#I will admit I’m more like you guys and I don’t particularly care for social norms

[maybankswhore]

mastermind , xavier thorpe.

pairings: xavier thorpe x reader

“what if i told you none of it was accidental and the first time you saw me , nothing was gonna stop me?”

“what if i told you i’m a mastermind? and now you’re all mine , it was all by design.”

summary: xavier knew he wanted you from the moment he saw you— and he always made sure to get the things he wanted.

Xavier remembered the first time he saw you.

You were wearing your favorite outfit , one he had seen you wear plenty of times now , and you were clutching a stuffed animal in one arm and holding cotton candy in the other. With a bubbly smile on your face , you followed around your friends , soaking in the scenery of the carnival and grinning ear to ear. ( You really loved carnivals. )

He hadn’t seen you before. You didn’t go to Nevermore , and he wasn’t too fond of Normies. But there was something about you that seemed so different. It sounded cliche , but something clicked inside of him when he first saw you. You were beautiful , and you looked so sweet and innocent. He wanted to know you , who you were , what you liked. He wanted you to think he was just as attractive as he saw you. God , did he want you.

With his hands stuffed in his pockets , he huffed when you strolled on out of sight. The carnival was packed and he knew he’d look weird just watching around for you the entire time. He also knew , he didn’t want to approach you in front of your friends. He wasn’t particularly fond of them— just you.

He tried getting the image of you out of his head. It was just one girl , he kept telling themself. There’s more out there , don’t bother.

He played a couple games with Ajax , chatted with Wednesday , and still nothing turned his head the way you did. Nothing interested him enough to want to stop thinking about you.

“Bro you’re hot.” Ajax scoffed. Xavier bashfully admitted to him what his problem was after looking so irritated that past thirty minutes. “You make art come to life. Literally.”

“Okay and what if she’s like a super cunt who only dates guys like Tyler Galpin?” He borderline whined , hating that he cared so much.

“Then she’s a cunt so why would you wanna be with her still?” Ajax pointed out.

Xavier nodded , knowing Ajax was right. Maybe he was scared of finding that out— having the already made image of you tainted by a scornful tongue or an upturned nose.

“She seems to like Enid.” Ajax cut in , nodding over towards the blonde talking excitedly to you. You talked to her grinning , showing her the piece of jewelry Enid complimented you on.

Xavier watched the two of you closely , his eyes lightening up as Enid handed you her phone. He silently prayed you were exchanging socials instead of numbers , so he’d be able to find you later.

When you turned your phone around , showing Enid you had followed her , Xavier grinned excitedly.

“Gotcha.”

“what if i told you none of it was accidental and the first night that you saw me , i knew i wanted your body? i laid down the groundwork and just like clockwork the dominos cascaded down the line.”

That night Xavier laid in his bed and searched up Enid’s Instagram. Social media wasn’t really his ‘thing’ but he had an account just to be nosey every now and again— and luckily , it came in handy.

He wasted no time in searching through Enid’s followers until he found you. It took him about twenty different people , but then , finally , your profile picture was a photo of you in the woods. A huge smile on your face as you stood there with your arms wide open , eyes screwed shut.

Shamelessly , Xavier stalked you as far as your Instagram would go. He was in awe at your photos , how artistic some of them were compared to the pretty selfie’s you’d take. There wasn’t any sign of another significant other in your life , which made a proud smirk appear on his face.

He followed you , and turned his phone , ignoring the excitement bubbling in his stomach.

Then the next morning , as soon as he woke up , he saw you had followed him back. And he smiled.

The next time he saw Enid , he grabbed her arm and pulled her off to the side , stuffing his hands in his pocket nervously. “So. . .”

“You wanna know about Y/N.” Enid cut to the chase. “Ajax ratted you out to me last night! He said you couldn’t stop talking about her. Xavier that is so cute! You guys would be the perfect couple.”

Xavier made a mental note to tell Ajax about his blabber mouth as he flushed , rolling his eyes. “Calm down. I just wanna know if , you know , she’d—”

“She’s not like the rest of them , I promise.” Enid cut him off excitedly again. “In fact! She’s sneaking in me and Wednesday’s dorm tonight.” She smiled proudly , “you and Ajax should come by.”

Xavier smirked. “You know , I’m surprised at how little work I’ve had to do to score this.” He admitted , thinking he’d have to go on the wild hunt to find you somewhere’s in town.

“Maybe you’re not the one trying to score.”

“you knew i was a mastermind and you’re mine , and all you did was smile. ’cause i’m a mastermind.”

Enid was finishing up your hair as you checked it subconsciously in the mirror. “And he asked me about you?” You already heard the story a million times , you just wanted to hear it again.

You were practically leaping with joy when Xavier had asked to follow you. You caught his attention. Finally. You wore your favorite outfit , ran around the entire carnival looking silly , just hoping he’d come up to you.

You were a bit disappointed when he didn’t , but when Enid texted you saying Xavier was asking her about you— you were ecstatic.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at the same question she’d been hearing for the past hour. “Do you suffer from short term memory loss?”

“I just don’t want to assume he’s into me but really I’m just being delusional.”

“Didn’t you say he followed you.” Enid tried easing your overthinking.

“Yeah but—”

“Which means he was looking for it because he didn’t know your name before!” Enid clapped excitedly. “I love love.”

“Love makes me want to operate on myself while I’m wide awake.”

Wednesday’s comment was left uncommented on because a knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

Your stomach was in knots and Enid gave you an encouraging smile as she went to open the door. You immediately felt shy , unsure of what to do or say.

“Y/N’s already here!” She almost squealed , moving away to let them walk in.

Xavier’s eyes immediately fell onto you. You sat on Enid’s bed , with your hands in your lap for comfort. The way you looked at him made him grin , nodding up at you. “Gonna introduce me , Enid?”

Enid giggled and you stood up , smoothing down your clothes and walking up to him.

“Don’t you know her already?” Wednesday’s monotonous voice spoke up. “You followed her Instagram.” She said simply , not looking up from her place on her own bed , reading.

Xavier’s cheeks went red with embarrassment as Enid giggled and Ajax laughed. You even chuckled a bit , finding his red cheeks and the way he scratched the back of his neck endearing.

“Well yeah but—”

“I’m Y/N.” You introduced.

“So it seems.” Xavier laughed. “In the flesh.”

You were two caught up in his big green eyes to answer. His face was definitely something to look at. Every feature just fit him perfectly , his voice and demeanor. You were smitten.

“I think me and Y/N are gonna go off on our own.” Xavier told the others without looking away from you , his heart beating so fast.

“Already?” Enid whined. “You just got here.”

Xavier looked at you questionably , cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

“Yeah–” you broke the stare to glance towards Enid briefly with a sympathetic smile. “We can all meet up later?”

“God , I hate teenagers.”

[beenbaanbuun]

ateez as sharks pt.2

too many sharks to choose from, to few members to assign them to. oh well! guess it just means i get to make a part two 👀

park seonghwa - epaulette shark

epaulette sharks are STUNNING!!! they are the epitome of sleek and genderless in shark form and i know seonghwa would adore them

epaulette sharks are incredibly unique (they can walk on land!!) and use that to their survival advantage. obviously seonghwa doesn’t use his beautiful uniqueness for survival, but it makes him stand out so beautifully just like the epaulette shark

kim hongjoong - portjackson shark

another cunty little shark for our cunty little guy. these guys are so gorgeous and cool and honestly remind me of hongjoong more than i care to admit

they’re known for being rather small, most of them not even growing to be one metre, and while they’re not particularly ferocious, they do have a generous spine protruding from their secondary dorsal fin. it’s like how hongjoong doesn’t look necessarily intimidating at first glance, but get him on stage and holy moly…

jeong yunho - bonnethead shark

i cant stop assigning silly looking sharks to jeong yunho and i will NOT apologise for that!! mr silly himself deserves to be represented by an animal just as silly as he is!!

they’re known to be pretty social sharks, often swimming in groups rather than by themselves. they’re not selfish or individualistic like a lot of other shark species and i think that represents yunho perfectly. he loves his team to death and you can clearly see that

kang yeosang - leopard shark

another cute little guy that i think represents yeosang so perfectly. whilst not as silly looking or as colourful as zebra sharks, they’re still sweet little guys with not a single bad bone in their body (well… cartilage i suppose)

they’re actually seen to display little to no fear of humans and are often viewed as being docile in nature. this doesn’t apply to their prey though since they’re pretty good hunters! it just reminds me of how yeosang is also seen as being ‘docile’ but behind it all there is an amazingly talented performer who isn’t afraid to be a little aggressive on stage when he needs to be

choi san - basking shark

now personally i hate basking sharks (which does NOT reflect on my views of choi san, i love that man so much!!) but i do have to say they’re the perfect choice for san…

they’re another species of shark that are viewed as being ‘gentle giants’, growing up to 8 metres in length yet only being filter feeders. i personally am afraid of them because of how scary they look despite just being big slow guys living their life peacefully; a sentiment i see reflected with san a lot (despite the fact that i don’t know how anyone can be scared of that big ball of fluff)

song mingi - hammerhead shark

listen guys, in the same way that saw sharks are just silly little men that are absolutely adorable, hammerhead sharks are also just fucked up little guys that most people agree are very sweet

these guys are literally physically incapable of hurting people, partly because of their sweet nature but also partly because of their tiny mouths. now i’m not saying mingi has a small mouth because that would be a lie, but i am saying that i don’t think that man could every intentionally hurt someone without feeling terrible for 4-5 business days

jung wooyoung - lemon shark

THIS IS THE COMPARISON IM MOST ENTHUSIASTIC ABOUT GUYS!!! lemon sharks are so sweet and also very pretty (just like wooyoung)

due to their large brains, lemon sharks are incredibly social animals and often crave the attention of divers, swimming up to them and letting the divers touch and interact with them. they’re also known to express negative emotions (similar to jealousy) when divers are giving other sharks more attention. i just think with how sociable and sweet wooyoung is, this is the perfect shark

choi jongho - blue shark

am i sorry for continuing to give jongho the sharks that look like they’ve never had a thought in their life? absolutely not! he has those big beautiful boba eyes, he has to face the consequences

these little guys are incredibly versatile. they’ll live almost anywhere in temperate or tropical water, they’ll eat pretty much anything (even krill, despite them not being filter feeders), and whilst not necessarily being dangerous to people, have been known to take a nibble every now and then. maybe it’s just me but whenever i think versatile i think of jongho, and this shark looking a little silly just makes it even better

[foxaftershocks]

Mine (Lars Pinfield x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You don't like the way some of Lars' fans talk about him.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, possessiveness, jealousy, marking, semi-public sex

AN: Another one for the Ghost Boy series. I'm taking a break after this one so I'll see you all when I'm back.

“Ohmigod, I can see him,”

You stood outside the fire station, waiting to get the moment the Ghostbusters emerged on camera. They were about to make a statement about the latest threat to New York City, one you’d written for Gary. It was always a toss up whether he would say what you wrote, but if you could live stream it, at least more people would see it.

“How is he hotter in person?”

There was a crowd around you, a group of young women standing close to you. You had to shift if the live was going to be worth it. But the crowd had packed itself pretty close and you didn’t think you were going to be able to find another spot. You sighed, lowering the phone.

“I know he’s a total nerd but I bet he’s a beast in the bedroom.”

Familiar eyes swept over the crowd from the side of the door. Lars was looking for you. That much was clear. You took the opportunity to watch him without him being aware of you. You did have to admit he was looking particularly handsome.

“No, he looks like he’d be really tender. Like it would be really emotional.”

His eyes snagged on you and you saw the way he brightened. He stood straighter and it almost looked as if he was going to take a step towards you. You smirked at him, a little wink making his cheeks flush, just enough for you to notice. He hated being in front of the camera and you knew he was only there today because you’d asked. The amount of power you wielded was intoxicating.

“I don’t care what he’s like. All I know is I want to climb that fine specimen of a man like a tree.”

Your teeth clenched. It would be stupid to complain about the comments from the women near you. You’d asked Lars to be there because of women like them, the kind who appreciated every time he was on the socials. That didn’t mean you liked hearing the way they spoke about your boyfriend.

You’d both agreed to keep it quiet at this point. Not that it was something to announce on the company’s social media. And Lars didn’t have social media of his own. But you knew you’d gained a few followers from the hopes of seeing Lars on there. They’d been disappointed, not wanting the speculation that was sometimes in the comment sections.

“I just want to run my fingers through his hair. It looks so soft.”

Gary stepped out of the door to a loud cheer. You raised the phone again, hoping the women would quieten down as he spoke. Lars straightened again, his eyes going to the other man, a barely contained curl of his upper lip just visible. Next lesson with him might be working on his poker face when in public.

“The first thing I want to say is that ghost got busted,” Gary said to wild cheers.

The women beside you were still whispering amongst themselves and you had to lower the phone. There was no chance you were going to be getting a clean shot. Rather than tune in to Gary reading from the speech you’d written, you turned your attention on Lars, standing in the background, hands clasped behind his back. With the sun shining down, he was so stupidly handsome.

“Do you think he’ll stick around when that guy is done talking?” one of the women asked, loud enough to interrupt your appreciation.

“If he does I’m definitely going to go shoot my shot,” another of them said.

You pressed your lips togethers. There was reading it on a screen and then there was listening to a group of women talk about hitting on your boyfriend. You weren’t usually a jealous person, but you’d never been with someone who got so much attention from other women. And looking at them, some of them were stupidly pretty.

He caught your eye again. You wrinkled your nose at him, watching the way a slow smile spread over his face. He could be so stoic sometimes it was gratifying to watch him with his heart on his sleeve when it came to you.

“Ohmigod, he’s totally smiling at me.”

“Duh, you’re like so pretty. I bet he wants you to come talk to him afterwards.”

“Ohmigod, no way, I can’t.”

“If you don’t I will.”

And there was the kicker. You rolled your eyes, looking down at your phone. The response online to the speech was going well, a few people live tweeting about it from fan accounts. When you looked up, the smile had slipped from Lars’ face, instead watching you with more interest than he should have. You pointed over to Gary, waiting for his attention to shift.

Good boy.

The tension kept ratcheting up the longer you listened to the women beside you. Giggling and laughing, they were obviously trying to get Lars’ attention. Flicking hair and batted eyelashes. Your jaw was clenching and you were just counting down the seconds that you could get Lars alone.

“Thanks guys,” Gary said, folding the paper you’d given him, shoving it in his pocket with an affable smile.

He turned, reentering the fire station. Lars lingered, his wandering back towards you. You flinched as the girl immediately to your right screamed his name. His attention shifted, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. The women surged forward, surrounding him before you could even take a step. With a small sigh, you waited long enough to see Lars shrug them off before entering the firehouse himself, almost scared of them. Their disappointment shouldn’t have made you feel better, and yet when you slipped inside there was a sense of smugness within you.

He was loitering in the entrance, watching for your return. You didn’t bother saying anything, grabbing his hand and dragging him away. He went with you willingly, not questioning you as you took the stairs down towards the containment unit.

“Are we filming something, love?” he asked.

“Not unless you’re looking for a scandal,” you replied.

You pushed him against the wall beside the stairs. The way he was looking at you was bemused, like he couldn’t figure out what you were doing but was more than willing to participate. Keeping him pinned there, you pushed up onto your tiptoes, lips grazing against his. You nipped at his lower lip before drawing back.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Proving a point,” you replied.

Not to those silly little girls. Mainly to yourself. And to him a little bit. But mostly to yourself.

Your hands slid up his body, fingers delving into his hair. You tugged him down, kissing him roughly. His hands were warm as they closed over your hips, holding on tight enough that he might be leaving bruises to be found later. He groaned into your mouth as you tugged on his hair, pulling it harder than you ever had before. You knew you were being a touch too rough with him but you wanted to leave your mark.

Your lips trailed down, finding that spot behind his jaw that was soft and vulnerable. You dragged your teeth over it, feeling the rumble in his chest as he moaned. Your tongue soothed over his skin. With the fingers still in his blond hair, you tugged his head to the side. Your lips took their time trailing down his neck until you came to his pulse point.

Your teeth sunk in. He yelped but didn’t push you away. You sucked at his skin, wanting to bruise him, to see your mark left on him. You wanted those girls to see he wasn’t available for their fantasies since he was too busy fulfilling yours.

“Fuck, love,” he groaned, but his hands were tight on you and you could feel his interest growing against your hip.

Your hands skimmed down his body, not bothering to take your time. You wanted him, no two ways about it. And you were going to have him.

Deft fingers found their way through buttons, seeking out warm skin to touch and taste. Your tongue was tasting the salt on his skin as he groaned, leaning back against the wall as if he needed it to hold him up. It was once your hands had slipped past the waistband of his trousers that he seemed to remember where he was.

“Love, they’re all just upstairs,” he said.

“So?” you asked, lips brushing over the beautifully developing bruise on his pale skin.

“Someone could walk in on us,” he said.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Your hand curled around his length, hot and heavy in your hand.

“No,” he hissed.

“Then be good and quiet and I’ll make sure it’s worth it,” you said.

He nodded his head, enthusiastic as you began to slowly drag your hand along his length. Pushing up, you kissed him again, wanting the taste of him on your tongue. He whined into your mouth as your hand continued to work him, feeling all the ways he was growing in your touch. Twisting your wrist, you massaged his tip, feeling his hips thrust into your hand.

“You like that, huh, ghost boy,” you said, drawing back so you could watch the way his face contorted in pleasure.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “fuck.”

You were being almost lazy about it, taking your time as you worked him over. The feeling of him in your hand, the weight of him, it was one you’d never grow tired of. His cheeks were flushing, a pretty pink colour, eyes blowing wide, the blue a thin ring surrounding his dark pupils. He was watching you from under hooded lids, lips parted as his breathing came heavier.

“Don’t want anyone else like this, do you?” you asked, increasing your pace.

“No,” he groaned, head falling forward, seeking you out.

His lips were desperate when they met yours, hands grasping you, holding on as you stroked him. Large hands on your ass, tugging you closer while your hand was on him, hips pressing into your touch.

“No one else makes you feel this good,” you told him, right as you did that thing that always made his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“No,” he agreed, “no one else.”

The weight of him in your hands, soft skin and hard length smeared with pre-cum, thumb swirling over the head. All of it was heady when mingled with the power you had over him in that moment. You paused a moment, listening to the sound of people moving upstairs. His tiny whine was addictive.

You were slow to start up again, hips rutting into your hand, your lips finding a place on his throat. He was doing so well, keeping quiet, the flush on his skin and his heavy breathing the only indication he was growing close. Your tongue licked a long strip up his throat, tasting the salt on his skin and your teeth nipped at him. His fingers were digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he tried to keep quiet.

You could tell when he began to get close, the small noises in your ear growing more desperate hips more insistent as he pumped into your hand. Pulling him into a kiss, you did that thing again, feeling his whole body shudder. Warmth spilled over your hand, hips stuttering, your name a soft groan in your ear.

Pulling your hand out of his trousers, you licked his cum from your skin. The way he watched your tongue was gratifying in its own way. You grinned up at him, feeling so much better.

“Fuck, darling,” he said when he caught his breath again, “I don’t know what came over you but I’m loving it.”

“Those girls…” You shook your head, “I know it’s silly but something about listening to them talk about you…”

“I thought you liked that women found me attractive. That it was good for the business,” he said, doing up his belt.

“Sure but this was in person and they were planning on shooting their shots and they kept talking about what you’re like in bed and I don’t know. It just hit different,” you said.

“Were you jealous?”

Large hands cupped your cheeks, pulling you back towards him. He looked down at you, quirking one eyebrow up but the satisfied look on his face ruining the entire effect.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, “but you’re mine. And I know no one knows but I guess I don’t like it when they hit on you.”

“They try and hit on me online,” he said.

“Yeah but you’re not the one reading the comments. I am. So it’s fine,” you said, “it just got to me today, I guess.”

He lent down, lips findings yours in a soft kiss. You could feel it, the way he loved you, just from how careful he was being with you. Drawing back, he pushed some hair behind your ear.

“You’re the only one for me, love,” he said.

“I know, ghost boy,” you replied, “I was just being silly.”

“Well, any time you decide to be silly, my body is willing and ready for you to work it out on,” he said.

You laughed, falling forward until your face was buried in his chest and his arms were around you. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his own puff of laughter warming you up from the inside out.

“We should probably get back to work,” you mumbled, muffled in the material of his shirt.

“Must we?” he asked.

“You don’t want to go run some tests on the latest ghost?” you asked.

You knew his answer before he said it. He’d been talking about getting his hands on the latest ghost the entire night before. He threaded his fingers through yours, tugging you towards the stairs.

“This might be the best day ever,” he said to you over his shoulder.

You laughed again, letting him drag you to the car so you could return to the lab. Your heart had returned to normal and it was easier to shrug off the comments from those girls. As if he would ever want them when you made him this happy.

[gemstarstarlight]

*butts into a conversation not happening with her*

First of all, I deeply hate this dynamic in friend groups and I’m so sorry your friends are being dinguses. Gossip and unhealthy power dynamics in friend groups are inauthentic and terrible. Leads to a lot of heartache and wounded trust. In high school I didn’t like people who seemed too put together and not authentic enough. I don’t think I even got to be around gossip because I could smell the fake from a mile away and chose to walk away.

At the same time…I would hesitate to call this a neurodivergent vs. neurotypical thing. Firstly, because neurodivergent people are capable of noticing and adhering to power structures. My dad is the most typical ADHD man I’ve ever met and he understands socializing and power dynamics better than I ever will. And he does care about it. He knows how to talk to “the right people” or how to talk to someone to make them feel more comfortable around him. And to him it’s not a morality/inauthentic thing. He does genuinely want the people to feel cared about and comfortable with him. He just also genuinely wants something from them, and because people feel comfortable around him they’re willing to give it to him. Meanwhile my mother, one of the most neurotypical woman I know, hates hanging out with people she doesn’t like and is a highly original thinker who will choose to do whatever is the “best” way regardless of what other people think or how popular it is. If she believes it’s right thing, she chooses to do that.

Secondly, I would hate to claim that people would choose an amoral way of living or call someone bad or good or deep or shallow because of their brain chemistry, a thing they can’t change about themselves.

So…if it’s not a neurodivergent thing, then what is it? I (obviously) have some ideas.

I think most people would agree that teenagers are starting to fend for themselves, make their own choices, figure out what is important and why. The whole point of this age is to figure out who you are, what matters to you, and how who you are matches up with the role you’ve been given. Parents are happy to give you a role, but most teenagers I know were or are interested in distancing themselves from their parents (how can I find out who I am if it’s just the role my parents have handed to me?)

So what does that leave to fill the void? One of the most powerful, especially in high schools, is social norms. I think it’s part of the reason people make cliques, or any organization that’s based on one personality trait or activity. Because people are searching for who they are and how they fit in the world, and social hierarchy is quick to put you in a category. Boom! Identity problem solved. You are good at sports, a theater kid, a fashion kid, a gay kid, a [fill in the blank]. And because you are a [fill in the blank] kid, and also because you are a high school kid, period, you like x things and want y things out of life. It’s easier to find simple quick answers to difficult problems rather than accept that those things may be difficult to get healthily or that you may not want them at all.

So maybe the problem is more that people are trying to create a friend group, interact with certain people, be friends with everyone, because that’s what culture tells them to do. If you make a friend group, you’ll be happy. If you are nice to everyone, you’ll be popular, and then you’ll be happy. If you are friends with the right people, you’ll be popular, and then you’ll be happy and have a great high school experience. Especially when they may be only handed their parent’s moral code or their culture’s social norms as a way to define what is the right way to respond to a situation, lots of people fall into this trap. Even if they know better theoretically, cultural norms are a powerful thing to unpack, especially for the first time.

One of my best friends is someone who has always “gone with the crowd”. Friendly, got along with others, did a lot of things her social circle said was acceptable, didn’t really start asserting herself and her opinion or even question her social norms until recently. She’s older than me.

My brother, who was deeply, annoyingly unemotional all of my growing up, picked fights with anyone and everyone, and who I was convinced was an absolute dick, moved out of our parent’s house and started becoming successful in his job. Now he’s quite a thoughtful person who shows that he cares about me and tries to love me the way I want to be loved (giving me hugs or telling me he cares about me or telling me my feelings are valid) in a way I am constantly surprised by. Sometimes I wonder if he just needed to get out of the house and surround himself in people who accepted him before he had the emotional bandwidth to be kind to other people who didn’t really understand him.

Something I have observed is that even though these people seem to be funky and weird and even downright amoral…they’re most likely just confused. Trying to balance the worldview of their parents with their growing own sense of self. Trying to navigate a world that often feels like survival, where everything matters immensely and your actions may feel like they have immense social consequences.

That kid who says sexism doesn’t exist? I didn’t even have someone tell me to my face that it existed until I was almost 17. He could be just regurgitating what he hears from his parents while secretly stewing in uncomfortable doubt. That kid who dates him? Maybe she’s not sure of what she believes and may not even take the relationship very seriously. Maybe she saw an opportunity to have a boyfriend and then took it, hoping to have a better high school experience. Or maybe she enjoys having attention or affection from someone. We all want people to spend time with us and make us feel cared for, even if we’re aro/acespec.

The point is, I think people are told what they are supposed to want (a large friend group, popular friends, a significant other) and what is normal (gossip, strife, competition, dating), right when they are asking the questions of what do they want and what is normal so they can figure out where they fit.

Neurodivergent people may have a leg up in seeing that these things can be unfulfilling. But I suspect it’s because we can’t really get these things because we don’t fit. So we don’t reap the reward of the social capital of getting these things, but we do spend time thinking about what we do want because we don’t fit. And because we don’t fit, we have to find out why and what we really need to fit.

Most people don’t have time for that. Most people are like us—they’re just trying to survive.

No because why do all my friends from my class who know that this guy is bullying them still sit at the same table with them and are gonna go to a party of his soon?

Is this a neurodivergent thing? Because like whyyyyyyyyyyy?? Why hang out with him? Why do you care??? Why don't you feel the physical urge to move away from him immediately? Like not to victim blame but maybe... consider just not.... interacting with him???

[t-swift-converter]

(part 8 of a blog following a wife’s adventure trying to convince her husband he’s a swiftie. follow my page for more!)

POST 8 - Celebrity Drama Rabbit Hole

Hi there! Today I am solo traveling on a quick trip to the East coast. I always feel like I should do something artsy like writing when I’m in an airport. Usually I end up just buying expensive snacks and rewatching Gilmore Girls. But there is something particularly dreamy about airports.

So, here’s a post to channel some creativity and keep my wallet from suffering. :)

One thing my hubby always falls for is celebrity drama. Hahaha I have a story. I hope by this point you have a general understanding for how this guy feels about modern pop music. So, normally I go to skip Justin Bieber when he comes on (except when I really don’t care what Dave thinks and I listen to what I want, which is most of the time haha) because he will probably make fun of it/him. Sometimes, the jokes are warranted – like when we listen to that rumble of a monologue at the end of “Purpose” (do you know the one?!) – but other times the jokes just hurt. Lol. Alright, this is so off topic, moving on with the story. So, SELENA GOMEZ comes on. “Lose You To Love Me.” A solid hit from a few years back. I casually mention that the fan theory is that this song is about Justin and he gets all intrigued – “they dated?”

“Ohhh yes they dated. And then stopped dating, then on again and off again. It’s a whole thing.” I build up some suspense. Then I hit him with a banger that I think slaps even harder than Selena’s original song. I YouTube what I feel like is the greatest mashup ever put together. “Sorry x Lose You to Love Me.” (A version is linked to the post so give it a listen).

I play the song and explain how they so perfectly fit together because it’s like they are actually singing to one another and it's magical and majestical and so riddled with emotion it’s crazy.

Dave loves it. I’m shook. But it’s not just the songs he likes. He starts asking questions about their dating history that I don’t even know. We start googling on this drive the whole timeline and different news articles and by the time we get home we have tracked every get-together and break-up and even whispers of rumors of them being seen together from like the start of 2009 to 2018. Then, I throw in the drama caused by Hailey Bieber and Dave eats it up. I have shoved him so far down this rabbit hole that I can’t even get him to come out. At home I start choppin stuff for lunch and he’s at the table finding Youtubers to explain to him how every move Hailey Bieber makes on social media is some kind of dis on Selena and how the Jenners are in on it. Apparently there’s some dance video and makeup tutorial video and… and soon I am asking him to give it a break! Like, woah, now I just wanna eat lunch in peace!! Hahaha. So, there’s one of Dave’s deep dark secrets that I just spilled on the internet, oops! but it gives such good insight into who he is.

Huge plus that you Swifties have probably already thought of. Selena and Taylor are like BFFs for life and I definitely told Dave that because it needs to be crystal clear who is on the “good” side of this drama. I’ll admit though I’m a little afraid to ever bring up JB x Selener again..

I’m thinking the next drama I should introduce to Dave should be the Taylor Swift x Jake Gyllenhaal drama as we’re listening to All Too Well (Ten Minute Version). Show him the music video too?? Or maybe to keep more current just throw Harry Styles in there. Ohhh yes. Endless potential.

*taps fingers together smiling cynically*

[storiesforallfandoms]

small world ~ corpse husband

word count: 2053

request?: yes!

“Can I get a Corpse x fem reader where reader an corpse are both streamers and they meet each other for the first time and realize they used to know each other as kids? I know Corpse has said that he didn’t have many friends when he was younger so maybe have it where reader was someone that was really nice to him? Sorry for the long request and thank you if you do it! 😊🖤”

description: he never would’ve thought that the new addition to their friend group would be someone from his past

pairing: corpse husband x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

“Hey Corpse,” Karl said. Corpse hummed in response, focused on the drawing he was doing for their Jackbox game. “(Y/N) is also from San Diego. Do you know her?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Karl, San Diego is pretty big. We’re not bound to know one another. Besides, just because he lives here doesn’t mean he grew up here.”

“I did grow up in San Diego actually,” Corpse said. “I don’t think we would’ve known each other though. Even if we happened to be in the same area, I didn’t talk to many people and I dropped out in the seventh grade.”

“I was, regrettably, popular in school,” (Y/N) added.

“Regrettably?” Karl asked.

“Yeah. Looking back, I hated being popular. I hated it when I was popular even. My friends were mega jerks and made fun of everyone, even me sometimes. I would try and make them be nice but they just let the popularity go to their heads. I haven’t spoken to any of them since we graduated. There was this sort of outcast in middle school I used to have a crush on. I tried to be friends with him, but he preferred to keep to himself. I always wished I had been friends with him because I feel like I would’ve been so much happier. I never saw him again either. I wonder whatever happened to him.”

Something about her story triggered a memory in Corpse. The year before he dropped out, there was a girl in is class who was always nice to him and tried to talk to him. He brushed it off as another way he was being made fun of. When it kept up, though, he realized she was likely being genuine. He still kept his distance, but he found himself gaining some feelings for her as well. When he dropped out, he never heard from her again.

I wonder where she is now, Corpse thought to himself. Man, what was her name?

Corpse accidentally gasped, drawing the attention of everyone in the Discord call.

“You good Corpse?” George asked.

“Y-Yeah,” Corpse responded. “Just uh...just realized I fucked up my idea a bit. No big deal, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The game started prompting for everyone to show what they had created. Taking the opportunity of not having to speak, Corpse went to Google (Y/N)’s YouTube channel. She had come into the game as a friend of Karl’s and Corpse hadn’t heard of her channel, but now somethings were starting to click together.

The first thing that popped up with the top Google Image for (Y/N)’s channel name. It was a beautiful girl laying in a garden of flowers with a wide smile on her face. Corpse sucked in a breath as he realized that the girl in the picture looked familiar.

“Corpse,” came Karl’s voice, snapping Corpse out of his trance. “It’s your turn.”

“Sorry,” Corpse said. “I was distracted.”

The rest of the stream Corpse felt like he was in a daze. He continued to play the games and forced out laughs when he realized someone was making a joke. Every time (Y/N) spoke, he felt his heart flutter with excitement. He couldn’t believe that after all these years he had finally been reunited with her. And what was better was that she had actually admitted to having feelings for him too!

Don’t get too excited, he thought to himself. She said she used to have a crush on you. That was a very long time ago.

He tried not to seem too eager when the stream finally ended. He waited for someone else to leave the call first before he exited out of it himself. He waited another few minutes before messaging (Y/N) directly on Discord.

hey. it was fun playing with you tonight. weird request, but can we voice call maybe? just the two of us?

Corpse didn’t expect her to respond any time soon. It was late in San Diego, like nearly 3am late. Most people were going to bed by now. She had mentioned once during the stream that she was starting to get sleepy. He figured she’d see it in the morning and either call, or just ignore the message.

To his surprise, near seconds later, she was calling him.

“Hey stranger,” she said when he answered. “Long time, no speak. You must’ve missed my voice a lot, huh?”

Corpse chuckled. “Exactly, I really did.”

“Makes sense. I do have the best voice on the internet.” She laughed this time. It sounded like such a perfect sound. “For real though, is everything alright? Why did you want to call?”

How did he even tell her? Hey, so you know that outcast you liked? It was me! Surprise!

No, he couldn’t say that. Maybe she wouldn’t even remember, or maybe she wouldn’t believe him. He had to figure out some way to bring it up.

“I kind of wanted to talk more about your popular school days,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and teasing. “It’s not every day I meet a streamer who’s in my own area code. It would be nice to get to know someone who isn’t like a five hour drive away.”

“Oh!” She seemed excited by this response. Her excitement was almost contagious. “Okay, where should I start? The shitty friends or the shallow popularity?”

Corpse chuckled. “You pick.”

She talked for nearly an hour about her high school experiences with her popular friend group. Despite how much she despised being popular, (Y/N) still spoke with a light tone in her voice. She tried to bypass a lot of the more negative details and speak only of the good experiences she went though, which was nice to hear.

Corpse nearly jumped with excitement when she began to talk about middle school unprompted.

“It really was the last good years I had in school,” she admitted. “All my friends, the ones who went on to be super popular with me, they were nice then. Annoying, but all middle schoolers are. We didn’t care about popularity or social rankings. We were just...we were just kids. We didn’t even really know the difference between ‘losers’ and ‘popular’, which was why it was so easy for me to talk to that guy that I liked at the time. My friends weren’t mocking me for having feelings for an outcast.”

“You said you never saw that guy again,” Corpse said. “Do you know what happened to him?”

She sighed heavily. “No, I don’t. He just stopped showing up before we hit high school. I thought he moved, but I knew his mom and I saw her around everywhere. I don’t even remember his name anymore to look him up. Wherever he is, though, I hope he’s doing better. Even if they weren’t sucked completely into their popularity at the time, my friends and the other kids were still awful to him.”

“I feel that,” he said. “I wasn’t exactly the most liked kid in school. Before I dropped out I didn’t even have any friends.”

“That’s awful.”

“It wasn’t too bad. I’m not really a friendly person I don’t think. I’ve worked on it since that time, but the thought of trying to maintain a social relationship still gives me anxiety from time to time. There was one girl who tried to be friends with me the year before I dropped out though. She was nice.”

“What happened to her?”

Corpse smiled to himself. She would figure it out soon, he knew she would.

“I just didn’t hear from her after I dropped out,” he responded. “I guess that’s mainly my fault. I never reached out to her or anything, but I barley knew her name. Just her first time, and she never gave me a number or anything. I couldn’t look her up online. Maybe we just weren’t destined to be together.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe you two were just right people, wrong time. Maybe you’ll cross paths again and finally have that opportunity to be friends with her again.”

“Maybe you’ll cross paths with that guy from your middle school, too.”

There was a prolonged silence. Corpse wondered if (Y/N) was starting to put the pieces together. He could barley even hear her breathe. The longer she went, the more worried he was becoming. He was about to say something when she finally spoke again.

“I made him a Valentine,” she said, her voice soft. “Special handmade one. He was the only one I gave it to. It had some really badly written, sappy poem in it. I watched him open it and...I really think he got emotional while reading it. Of course, he’d never tell anyone that.”

Corpse had gotten emotional over the Valentine (Y/N) had given him. It was the first real Valentine he had ever gotten. It wasn’t one of the generic ones that everyone gave out to every classmate so no one felt excluded. It was made from the heart, and that fact alone touched his. Like (Y/N) said, though, he didn’t let anyone know how emotional he had gotten. It would’ve just been more mental ammo for them to use to bully him.

He quickly got up from his chair, racing to his room where he had his box of memories shoved in his closet. It was little things from throughout his life that he kept in a shoebox. Whenever he felt particularly down or depressed, he would open the shoebox and look at all the things that made him smile.

At the very top of the box was (Y/N)’s Valentine.

He went back to his computer and took a picture of the Valentine using his phone.

“That sounds really nice,” he said as he went into the Discord app on his voice. “It must’ve meant a lot to him that you put so much time and effort into a handmade gift.”

“I don’t know if it did. I never got to ask him what his reaction was.”

“Oh, I’d bet anything he was happy.”

He sent the picture through Discord and waited for (Y/N) to open it. The silence between them felt deafening. The seconds felt like they had slowed to hours. He wondered what (Y/N)’s reaction would be. Maybe she’d be weirded out by the fact that Corpse kept the Valentine, or by the fact that Corpse was the middle school crush in general.

What if she’s upset that this is who I am now? he asked himself. What if her crush was just a middle school thing, and the moment you dropped out she moved on?

“I knew it.”

Corpse couldn’t help the smile on his face when he heard the slight excitement in (Y/N)’s voice.

“I knew it was you!” she continued. “Well, I didn’t know know, but when you asked me to call you I had a bit of a suspicion. I can’t believe it...it’s actually you!”

“It is me,” he confirmed. “And it’s you.”

“Small world we live in, huh?”

“Yeah, small world.” Do you still like me? Did you ever stop? Do you know that your kindness stuck with me for so long?

The silence returned. Corpse was starting to get sick of it, but he didn’t know how to fill the void between them. When he heard her yawn, he realized how late it had gotten. “I’ll let you go, you sound tired.”

“We just had this breakthrough and you’re asking me to sleep?!”

Corpse chuckled. “You have to sleep eventually, (Y/N). It’s like 3:30am, normal people sleep at this hour.”

“I am offended you would think I’m anywhere near normal.” She yawned again, cutting off her short lived rant. “But you’re right, I am tired. Listen...promise me you’ll answer when I call tomorrow. I...I’d really like to catch up. Maybe...to pick up where we left off.”

“Okay,” Corpse said, then realized that wasn’t really a response. “I promise. I’ll be waiting by the phone the moment I open my peepers.”

(Y/N) giggled. “I’ll be sure to call you the moment I open mine.”

“Goodnight (Y/N). Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight Corpse underscore Husband.”

kind of a bad ending, but i wasn’t really sure where else to go with it as i wrote it. sorry! :(

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it.  he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that.  so happy ❤️ 

View all 9,208 comments

caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story.  Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.  

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes?  Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him.  Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard.  ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’).  But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’  a source close to the couple reported.  

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.  

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’ 

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right.  To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar. 

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.  

Is this the best she thinks she can do?  So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer. 

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate.  From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship.  Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson??  I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea.  “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious.  “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second.  He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment.  “I haven’t talked to him in… years?  I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it.  And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other.  But he has his own problems.  I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl.  You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him.  “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first.  Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name.  And I’m not perfect.  Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly.  “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries.  When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away.  “Don’t read the comments, okay?  None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well.  In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care.  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously?  I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words.  “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing.  I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured.  “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it?  Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted.  "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

//

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head.  In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized.  What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker.  “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway.  BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door.  Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face.  “Are you—?’

“Hungry?  Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk.  “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified.  “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you!  Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl.  “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space.  “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked.  “And not just with random delivery drivers.  I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough 

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!”  You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained.  “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen?  By people?” 

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes.  “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened.  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked.  “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning.  “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed.  “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off.  “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought.  “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know.  Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.  

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do.  I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled.  “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky.  “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table.  “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already.  I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb.  I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you.  I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek.  “I think so, too.”

//

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress.  “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant?  You’re still paying me,” he reminded you.  “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff.  You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided.  “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard?  Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever.  As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress.  Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet.  It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

[itsclydebitches]

I am briefly pausing my normal RWBY content to talk about something completely different: Kang Soo-Jin. 

I binged True Beauty recently. As in, “I haven’t managed to watch anything new in half a year, discovered this drama, and promptly marathoned 14+ hours of content,” so to say I’m enjoying it is an understatement. I might do another post sometime about why I think the show works so well, but for now, like many (drama only) viewers, I’m specifically grappling with Soo-Jin’s descent into antagonist territory. At first I was just as shocked and disappointed as others seem to be, but upon reflection I don’t think this is badly written in the way many fans are claiming. To frame this as, “I can’t believe they would make wonderful Soo-Jin suddenly OOC and bully Ju-Kyung over a guy!” is ignoring core parts of her character. I’m as sick of the girl-hates-girl-over-guy plotline as the next viewer, but in the interest of acknowledging that there are exceptions to every rule, I think this is one of the times where that choice makes perfect sense. 

Soo-Jin has been abused throughout her life and I’m not simply talking about the fact that her father hits her. Though that’s obviously horrific, what I think is more pertinent to this conversation is the intense competitiveness her parents have instilled in her. The physical abuse comes about because Soo-Jin fails (in their eyes) to be the best, which is where Ju-Kyung comes in. The Soo-Jin we knew in earlier episodes wasn’t faking. She isn’t an inherently evil person who was just waiting for the right time to show her true colors. Rather, at the start of the story Ju-Kyung—crucially—was not in competition with Soo-Jin. Or rather, Soo-Jin did not perceive her as competition. She’s after the best grades in the school and Ju-Kyung is notoriously at the bottom of the class. All she has going for her are her (new) looks and her easy-going personality that makes her popular, two things that Soo-Jin isn’t interested in. Even if she were, those things already come naturally to her too. She’s already friends with Soo-A and, as is commented on multiple times, naturally beautiful without any makeup on. Soo-Jin has been taught—literally had it beaten into her—that she must be the best and in the beginning of the show she pretty much is: popular, mature, confident, smart… just not the smartest in her class. Ju-Kyung doesn’t threaten any of that, so friendship initially comes easily for Soo-Jin, the sort of friendship that allows her to chase perverts off busses or hide her friend’s real face. 

This changes once Soo-Jin’s “perfect” mask begins to slip. They’re heading towards college, she’s running out of time, and she still hasn’t managed to take the top spot in the class. Worse, she drops out of the top ten. This exacerbates the abuse to the point where, as we see, she’s constantly in the bathroom trying to cope by washing her hands. Any tiny deviation from that “perfection”  — like, say, leaving your tutoring session when you realize your lifelong friend just got devastating news — results in the sort of yelling/physical abuse she can only escape from via a locked door. While things get worse on her end, they get better on Ju-Jyung’s. Her grades go up some and she becomes even more popular, attracting not only school-wide attention, but the attention of the two hottest guys too, including Soo-Ho. For a while this is still fine from Soo-Jin’s perspective, but things really take a turn when Ju-Kyung changes Soo-Ho. Meaning, she helps him come out of his shell and teaches him how to be a kinder person… which includes being a better friend to Soo-Jin. The Soo-Ho who suddenly lies and announces that they have to go study just to get Soo-Jin away from her father’s insults, all of it stemming from a small tick he paid attention to, or comforting her while she sobs over the abuse… that Soo-Ho didn’t exist at the story’s start. He was too wrapped up in his own grief and has been that way for a long time. They may have known each other since childhood, but Soo-Jin and Soo-Ho don’t appear to be particularly close in the past—all Soo-Ho’s flashbacks are with Seo-Joon and Se-Yeon. But that starts to change once Soo-Ho himself changes. Soo-Jin’s ability to keep it together is unraveling, Soo-Ho is opening up and becoming more emotionally available (something Soo-Jin even comments on), then her whole class starts eagerly talking up how good they would be as a couple… so Soo-Jin sees a lifeline. Soo-Ho will care for her even when no one else will. Of course he will. She’s already seen him be that person multiple times. 

The problem is that Soo-Ho has his own life and his own problems to grapple with. Between grief over See-Yeon, panic over telling Ju-Kyung how he feels, and the initial rush of dating—what couple doesn’t want to spend all their time together at the start?—he doesn’t have much energy for Soo-Jin. Which from his perspective is fine. They don’t normally hang out together outside of study groups, so yeah, he can put off a conversation with her… not realizing that Soo-Jin is now putting all her emotional eggs in his basket. By the time her feelings are coming to light, Soo-Jin is actively sabotaging her own attempts to get attention and compassion from Soo-Jin. By manipulating them—here’s a new scrunchy to remind you that you’re my best friend and you can’t ever betray me, here I am showing up unannounced at your apartment and guilting you into not spending more time with me, etc.—Soo-Jin has put Soo-Ho (rightfully) on his guard. He’s wary of having a private conversation with her about something she won’t name when he knows Ju-Kyung has been a mess over losing her friendship. He has no desire to listen to her confession of love after she’s just tossed Ju-Kyung’s beloved necklace into the fire. In her efforts to ensure that Soo-Ho pays attention to her, she only succeeds in driving him away. 

All of which makes Ju-Kyung the enemy in her eyes. The new competition. To her mind, friendship and love cannot co-exist because Ju-Kyung stands in the way of that love, therefore one has got to go. (In contrast Seo-Joon, coming from a loving family, is in time better able to accept that he can be friends with Soo-Ho even though he likes Ju-Kyung. We can discuss the problems inherent in giving one plot to the girl and the other to the guy, but as they are, these characters have concrete, in-world reasons for their different reactions to what’s essentially the same situation.) And why does love (“love”) win out over friendship? Because Soo-Jin has latched onto Soo-Ho being her boyfriend as the way to finally “win” at life and fix all her problems. It’s fine if she’s not the best provided she’s dating the best, just look at how much Dad fawned over him. Second place academically is suddenly an option provided the top student is on her team, so to speak. The fact that Soo-Ho is also one of the most handsome, a great athlete, super rich, and one of the few people to provide her with feelings of safety certainly doesn’t hurt matters. And the only thing that stands in her way of securing this life-saving “win” is Ju-Kyung. Who is she? No one compared to Soo-Jin. Her grades are terrible. She’s not wealthy. She’s pretty… but oh, only with her makeup on. 

Soo-Jin doesn’t need makeup, so why not win this competition by showing the whole school—showing Soo-Ho—what a fraud Ju-Kyung is? 

From Soo-Jin’s perspective she’s done the math and come out on top. Everything that (supposedly) matters she either has equal to Ju-Kyung, or is superior, therefore it’s obvious that Soo-Ho would choose her in the end. She says at much: If I had confessed first you would have loved me first, so now that I have confessed you’ll break up with her. Hell, even Ju-Kyung believes this. She has the nightmare about Soo-Ho learning that Soo-Jin has feelings for him and immediately, publicly breaking up with her. After all, if he suddenly has both as an option the winner is obvious, right? It’s all about competition, what they’ve been taught to believe is a competition: Ju-Kyung through her bullying and Soo-Jin through her abuse. The difference is that Ju-Kyung has had the whole series with Soo-Ho (and others) helping her slowly unlearn this mentality. Soo-Jin had the rug pulled out from under her in an instant. 

Soo-Ho says no, I wouldn’t have loved you if you had confessed first and I’m not going to date you now. It’s important to realize that this shatters Soo-Jin’s entire world. It’s not about a girl being upset that she can’t get the guy — not even about Soo-Ho as an individual, really —  it’s about an abused girl not knowing how to grapple with the fact that she finally did everything “right” and still couldn’t “win,” coupled with losing the last bit of security she had. Soo-Ho broke the unspoken rules Soo-Jin’s father beat into her and she doesn’t know where to go from there. She literally has no one else to turn to. So she falls back on the only way she does know how to handle a situation like this: by still trying to win. If Soo-Ho won’t admit that she’s better, she’ll force him to realize that by plastering Ju-Kyung’s “ugly” face all over social media. Which, to be clear, isn’t an excuse. This isn’t meant to be a way of absolving Soo-Jin of her absolutely horrific actions, only a means of explaining them. Her descent, while shocking to those of us who loved her initial character, is well written because it’s a nuanced look at what can happen when you abuse a kid her whole life and teach her that competition is everything. Oddly enough, she’ll apply a competitive outlook to everything and deal with her stress in unhealthy ways. Ju-Kyung is a victim of Soo-Jin now, but Soo-Jin is a victim too. Her home life has ensured that she does not know how to accept failure—or what true failure even means—so it was inevitable that when things got bad, she’d  try to fix it in ways that hurt both her and those around her. It’s all she knows how to do. 

So far less “Perfect girl goes ooc and abandons her friend over a boy” and far more “Abused girl falls into a terrible, but predictable cycle that the other stressed high schoolers around her are not equipped to break.” Soo-Jin’s story isn’t bad writing, it’s tragic. Thanks for coming to my three page TED talk ✌️

***

2/4/21 FINALE UPDATE! 

[dienamights]

Ellipsism | K.Bakugou

Ellipsism: A sadness that you’ll never be able to know how history will turn out.

» Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

» Word count: 1.9K

» Genre: Angst 

» Summary: In a world where everyone is born with a unique tattoo on their ankle, and every time they fall in love with someone, their tattoo appears somewhere else on the body of the person they love. You come to the realization that it might not be as simple as that, and all your childhood dreams would come and bite you in the ass.

» Warning(s): ANGST, mentions of self-harm.

» Author’s notes: Listen, I don’t particularly like angst, but I love the way it hurts, y’know? Not sure if I want this to have a happy ending or not (in a second part) and honestly I’m leaning towards the latter, I love pain and I have no idea what would happen. Also, peep the “tattoo” in the header its relevant to the story ahaha

Thank you everyone for the support and love, it means the world to me that people enjoyed my Kacchan representation! Lemme give you smooches.

Big smooches to @tteokdoroki and @sightoru for making me feel good about hurting them🤧❤️

» Masterlist | Requests

The sun had awakened and was promptly emerging through the hazy sky. The cloudy layer created a gloomy blanket from the sun. You jolted awake, your neck aching from your sleeping position and you twisted your head side to side to relieve some of the pain, before reaching for your phone and holding the bright screen to your face to check the time. Alas, the screen was turned off without registering the time nor how long were you asleep for.

You lifted your eyes to see the grey out the window in front of you. With that fog, the trees and buildings never ended, they floated upwards, seemingly as endless as beanstalks. Reaching your head back, it met the wooden counter. You were in the kitchen, fell asleep on the floor and slumped against the counters, the empty bottle laying across from you a reminder of the event that transpired the previous night - maybe morning? You didn't really know.

You lazily extended your legs in front of you, eyeing your sock-clad feet and the tattoo that peaked from the clothing. Blooming lilacs that danced and branched out, the stem wrapping around your ankle oh so loosely, almost teasingly. Lilacs that represented happiness and tranquility, which you have never felt more far from. 

Remembering the old days, the better days, you with your poofy dress, so blindingly pink it demanded everyone's attention, giggling with your friends that adorned similar attire to yours, showing each other the tattoos that hugged your ankles, in endless shapes and sizes, dreaming about who the lucky person you’ll share your tattoo with would be, who was lucky enough to capture your heart and claim it as their own, and offering theirs in return.

Bedtime stories were your favorite quality time with your mother, where you’d both forget about the story cradled in her hands and you’d spend your night tracing the few tattoos that scattered across her arms. Asking her how could she love so many people and have them love her in return before loving her husband - your father - the only person she was meant to be with, only to wait with bated breath for an answer you already heard so many times you probably memorized it by now. You’d be entranced at the way her eyes always softened, a light gleaming in them as she would explain to you, again and again, with no sign of ever getting bored, how she have never and would never regret the people she loved, because in some twisted way of the universe, it led her to the father of her beautiful child, that snuggled her in her princess bed. 

Alas, asking her how you came to the world received a totally different reaction, and you refrained from asking her that again until later on in life.

Whenever your grandma visited, you’d run to hug her old and withered body, apologizing when she would howl about her aching back and dragging her to sit with the excuse to help her rest, but you both knew you wanted to hear stories, your teenage self was so ready to fall in love, so excited to have a piece of someone you adored with all your heart decorating your skin, inking it in the most beautiful forms of promise.

She always made her past lovers sound like prince charmings right out of a novel, the kind of guys with the power and confidence that seemed perfect in every way. The kind of guys schoolgirls woke up and went to school for in the morning. The kind of guys that hit women of all ages right between the eyes every time they were seen and stirred up their fantasies.

And by God, did you not realize that your grandmother wasn't spewing bullshit after all these years, because there he was, a storm in each step he took, fire in his knuckles erupting and seething with fierceness. He was an explosion of bare, raw, real mystery. A soft caress of the wind, warm sand, and pure silence. He was colors and textures and shapes and designs, all combined together in an artistic canvas that thrived for attention but wouldn't stoop to admitting it. 

You remembered the day your lilacs embellished his shoulder, shyly peeking through his hero suit, claiming everyone’s attention on their petals as they swayed on his skin, the attention of the media as the shoulder of the hero, Dynamight, was showcased on social media, people envying whoever was able to capture the exploding hero’s heart.

As if he wasn’t capable of love, they didn't see what you saw, they will never have the privilege, because when he dropped the façade of the hero, he’d come home to you, knock on your apartment door and you’d flee to open it to him to lay your eyes on him, a tired laugh, sore muscles, a teasing glint in crimson eyes, golden hair tasseled after a sleepless night. He was secure embraces oozing with warmth. He was toughness and hardness, perfectly mixed in with trust and care.

It was at that day it happened, in the middle of the living room while the newsman was talking nonsense about the hero, the warmth wrapped around your wrist, gripping it like a vice with no intention of letting go; yes it burned, you remembered the sting, it just paled in comparison to the warmth in your chest, the warmth of the tears escaping your eyes as you held your wrist close to your chest, happily whispering about how this was what love felt like. You also recalled that it was at that exact moment the hero, your hero, walked into your apartment, dropping everything and running the small distance to your hunched body to grab at your wrist to inspect the damage he thought was done to it.

Only for his eyes to meet that one wretched inking he loathed all his life, the - meaningless doodles, he’d call them - that blemished his skin, he remembered the remarks, how no one would be able to share that blotch of his with him because who could ever love him? Who could ever endure him, with all of that ego and all of that anger? And as time passed, he believed it, he believed them, that he wasn’t worthy to be loved, that he was only meant to save, not be saved as well, not even from himself.

But there you were, there you fucking were, crying and laughing and struggling to breath as you repeated the words you’ve been dying to confess, 

“I love you, Katsuki.”

Suddenly, that speckle that was always hidden under his socks brought him happiness, brought him love, and damn did he deserve it, because he fought for it, he endured hell for it, and there you were, wrapped around his arm and repeating those three words against his lips between heated kisses.

He was pleasure and lust. Rough groans and mutual needs. A burning touch. Your name hanging by his lips, breathless kisses and hair-tugging and hot flesh against hot flesh.

He was an illusion you thought it'll never materialize, and yet here he was. 

Here he was, all highs and lows, smiles and frowns, softness and roughness, carefulness and danger. Here he was, a tiny spark of thunder, sparkling with passion, loyalty and dedication, protection, satisfaction, confidence and love.

Here he was…

Where was he?

The inking you used to spend hours admiring now haunts you, the design that used to whirl and twirl across your wrist as you hummed while tracing it now felt like shackles, squeezing so tight against you as you tried to break free. The black almost shrouded by the coats of metallic red that spilled from your attempts of escape. The dark crimson that matches his eyes, the eyes you know you won't forget, you know you don't want to forget, no matter how you’ll feel better if you do.

The girl staring right at you through the distorted reflection created by the dishwasher judged you, all mangled and blurry, yet the tear stains and numb eyes are hard to ignore, easily cutting through the deformed reflection.

You and the girl in front of you envied your friend, the aromantic that was never interested to fall in love, only possessing their own tattoo that graced their ankle, with no one else's accompanying it, sure it looked lonely on some days, but who were you to judge?

You remembered what they always told you, that it wasn't always the fairy tales your family fed you. They told you about their mother, who had an affair and fell in love, spending almost a year hiding the tattoo of her fling from her husband before being caught, they told you how their father was broken beyond repair, he who also was so drunk on the idea of falling in love and being loved in return, just like you were for all those years. They told you of the heart break that you might have to face when your partner’s inking is embedded into you, but not the other way around, how you had to decide whether to wait for your own personal design to mark its location onto them or leave, always being haunted by the part of them that you can't get rid of, no matter what you do.

They never told you about this kind of heartbreak though, the one where you’re both so in love, so happy, destined to be together forever, because what could possibly go wrong?

You never got the answer to that, you remembered asking him as he dragged his suitcase out of the apartment, the tears cascading down his face never answered you as he apologized again and again, mumbled how you deserved to be loved by someone that wasn’t him, babbled about him not deserving you. About how he won’t ever love someone besides you when he caught your eye scanning whatever was visible of his arms, in fear of finding out a piece of someone that wasn't yourself.

You finally got up, legs numb and steps wobbly from sitting on the floor for so long, you eyed the door, still unlocked after his leave a couple of hours ago - maybe more it's still unclear - no urge of yours strong enough to get you up to lock it again. You moved slowly, as if the shuffle of your feet is causing you pain, and in a way, it did, because you know when you reach the living room couch, there won't be the warm arms that engulfed you, because what else did you have other than the warmth you surrounded yourself with when you told him to hold you close to him?

That's right, nothing. 

As you laid down on the couch and allowed yourself to be suffocated by the scent of caramel, you cursed at all the fantasies and dreams that clouded your mind day and night, you frowned and scrunched your nose at the scent that used to mean love and warmth, but now only burnt your nose and teared up your eyes.

A constant reminder, just like the defaced wrist you brought closer to inspect and hissing when the cold air bit at it. You recalled the lilacs and swore at them, the same lilacs that symbolized love and passion, but looking more withered and torn the more you looked at them.

Good, guess they know how I feel.

Borrowers (taglist):

if you want to be tagged with for any of my fics let me know ♡

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Farmer Ted

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Regardless of where the two of you have your first conversation, Ted probably knew of and had a crush on you before you were even aware of his existence.

- He’d probably seen you around school and thought that you were really pretty but just didn’t have the nerve to introduce himself while you were with your friends/around people. But now was his perfect chance. 

- You’d been sitting outside of the school, waiting for somebody, when he’d slinked up to you all dorkily suave. Considering you were somewhat distracted by a book, you probably didn’t realize someone was approaching you until they’d; or rather he’d, sat beside you. 

- Somewhat surprised and curious, you looked up and over at him, meeting his eyes as he gave you a smile. He greeted you, making small talk as you sat together before asking if you “wanted to go out Saturday night”. 

- You found him sort of endearing and cute in a wimpy sort of way so; much to his genuine surprise, you actually said yes. 

- For your first date, the two of you went to the movies. He kept sneaking glances at you throughout the night and held his hand open on the armrest like halfway through the movie, waiting to see if you’d take it; which you probably did. 

- He probably rushes to go tell Bryce and Cliff about everything that happened after the two of you say goodbye. 

- You have your first kiss about a week after your first date. You were sitting together in his bedroom and he’d mentioned how “it may come as a surprise …but you’re the first girl he’s ever gone out with.” before telling you how he really likes you and is wondering if you’ll be his girlfriend. 

- Obviously, you agree and after an almost instantaneous “really?!”, he all but smashes his lips to yours. When the two of you pull away, he shyly apologizes but you just laugh and tell him it’s fine. 

- And there you have it, the geek finally gets the girl. 

- Lots of pda. He wants to show off and flaunt your relationship; particularly because he knows that no one would automatically assume that the two of you are dating whenever you’re together. 

- His arm around your shoulder. It makes him feel like a stud. 

- Handholding. 

- Hugs from behind. He does occasionally give you an actual squeeze but, more often than not, he just wraps his arms loosely around you while the two of you stand together. 

- He loves kisses on the cheek. He always tries his best to play it cool but his heart skips a beat whenever you give him one. 

- Clumsy kisses. You’re probably going to be his first kiss so expect him to be a little bad at it for a while; and possibly scrape you with his braces. 

- Soft kisses. 

- Sitting in his lap. He likes wrapping his arms around you and  looking up at your face or whatever you’re doing in front of him whenever you do. 

- He loves cuddling and enjoys doing it in any way that you can. Spooning? Great! You laying your head on his chest? Even better! Him laying his head on you? Wowza!

- You’ll probably catch him staring at you a lot. He’s just amazed that such a wonderful girl like you is giving him the time of day. 

- He calls you pet names more than your actual name, particularly in front of people because; once again, he likes showing off that you’re a couple. He must have at least a dozen different terms of endearment that he calls you interchangeably. 

- Lame pick up lines. He still tries to flirt with you; even though he’s arguably bad at it. 

- He likes making you laugh at his absurdity, especially if you’re noticeably upset; either with him or at something else. 

- Singing along and lip syncing to the radio together. 

- Dancing with each other. 

- Giving all of his geeky interests a try. 

- Letting him explain floppy disks and computers and all that to you. He’s actually sort of brilliant if we’re being honest here. 

- Pizza dates. 

- Movie dates. I can’t tell you why but I feel like Ted would enjoy watching old movies, movies with like Frank Sinatra in them and all the other golden age of Hollywood stars. 

- Taking walks around the neighborhood together; maybe walking a dog together if you’re interested in that. 

- Going to the park. You usually sit on the swings together and talk whenever you do. 

- Arcade dates.

- County fairs, carnivals, and amusement parks. He likes taking you to those types of things, he thinks they’re really fun.

- Having “his dudes” interrupt and tag along with you guys a lot. He’s quick to tell them to scram but you usually feel kinda bad and just tell them they can stay if they’d like to.

- He definitely tries to get you a bit out of your comfort zone but never minds if you just don’t feel like doing something. The two of you could just be standing and doing nothing and he’d be completely fine with it purely because he’s with you.

- He said it himself: he’s a total pushover for pretty girls. You can convince him to do pretty much anything because he’s too twerked up to say no.

- Doing his makeup. Did you see his lid space? The clean close shave? He’d probably outright refuse at first but he’d give in easy enough and you’d get to make him gorgeous.

- He loves the smell of your perfume. He’ll never admit it but he sprays himself with it before he leaves your house so that he can smell like you for the rest of the night. It’s comforting to him.

- He definitely messes around with your stuffed animals whenever he’s bored, you’re not paying attention to him, or just to make you smile.

- Making you laugh is one of his main missions in life. He loves hearing the sound; even if it’s at his expense. 

- Helping him clean up the messes he makes when he’s a total klutz, or just silently helping him when he’s awkwardly and cluelessly fumbling with something. 

- Standing up for him; especially if you’re higher on the social hierarchy.  

- Walking to class together. 

- Sitting with him at lunch; even though it’s sort of social suicide. You get a lot of stares and weird interactions from the other geeks but Bryce and Cliff have gotten used to you and have become pretty good friends of yours. 

- Him carrying your things, or you; he’s surprisingly strong for such a little guy. 

- You’re like 90% of his impulse control and one of the only reasons he’s still alive. You keep him in check because he desperately needs it sometimes.

- Sharing secrets. 

- Having earnest conversations. Most of the time, he feels like he needs to put up a front to seem cool but the longer you're together, the more he realizes you like him for him and that he can just be himself. 

- He can act like a bit of a jerk sometimes but he does genuinely care about your feelings and is actually pretty good at making you feel better when you’re feeling down. 

- He’s definitely pretty jealous. You hang out with him and a bunch of geeks who are constantly ogling and trying to get close to you. Not to mention the fact that you’re really pretty and could bag a boy who’s much higher on the social ladder than he is. 

- He’s not overprotective of you but he does care enough about you to put his weeny ass on the line. He may not be the most helpful in a dangerous/scary situation but he’s fully ready to get his ass kicked to defend you; he’s gotten it bruised for less than that. 

- You don’t fight a lot but the two of you do get into a few good arguments and fights. You’ll argue for a while until you move to just leave, he’ll stop you and calm his tone down while trying to reason with you and explain his point of view. He has a habit of saying the wrong thing or doing things without thinking so that may be part of the reason you’re moving to leave. 

- He is genuinely sorry whenever he’s blatantly messed up but he’ll usually apologize for his attitude regardless of who’s in the wrong and say “but you have to admit x” and you will have to admit it no matter how stubborn you are. 

- He likes when you tell him that you love him but he’s a bit too shy to say it back in fear of messing up his “stud persona”. He’ll usually just give you a kiss and tell you he loves you when you’re alone. 

- You’re his first love so he has that naive, “we’re gonna last forever” mindset; even though he doesn’t talk about it all that much. That’s not to say that you won’t though, I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful life together. 

[theysayitscrazy]

Depression Bites

This one is for @rebelwrites She was feeling a little down today and reached out to friends for a little pick me up. Here you go darlin, I hope it helps. If even just a little bit.

Clay Spenser x Reader

You’re feeling a little down and overwhelmed and your man comes to cheer you up.

The walls feel like they’re closing in on you. It’s a perfectly beautiful sunny summer day out, but you feel like a rain cloud is hanging over your head. You feel like you’re drowning and barely managing to stay afloat. Nothing you seem to do can shake the feeling. Like you aren’t good enough. That overwhelming feeling of drowning rises up again and you fight the urge to scream.

You look around the house and see nothing but messes everywhere. Laundry piled up on couches, half folded, half dirty, you don’t even know at this point. There are stacks of dishes piled by the sink and you’re officially out of clean silverware.

Work was a whole other nightmare. The special project you were in charge of was behind. You spent the day trying to get that caught up, only for your inbox to be neglected. The forty unread emails at the end of the day really set you over the edge. The feeling of despair bubbling over.

You logged off your work PC feeling defeated and turn and face your mess of a living room. The small apartment walls were closing in and you didn’t understand why. You’d been so happy last weekend. You and Clay had gotten away, just the two of you for a full three days. He’d taken some leave time to ensure you wouldn’t be interrupted.

You had finally felt connected again. After years together, things sometimes got stagnant with any long-term relationship, but Clay always made sure to remind you just how much you meant to him. He had surprised you with your favorite flowers the morning of your get away. He’d been extra attentive all weekend. Catering to your every whim while away. Ice cream for breakfast? You got it.

He’d be so extra sweet all weekend, and then you’d come home and back to reality. Not that he wasn’t sweet at home, just life got in the way. He’d been spun up the day after you returned and had been in and out ever since.

While you tried to navigate the mess that had become your home and life. You had both been so exhausted from your weekend away that you had dumped the bags on the floor by the door when you walked in. Taking one day off of work, had set you back several DAYS, and while your boss was understanding, you felt like you were failing.

Work from home life was getting to you. The lack of human interaction was getting to you. You weren’t made to sit at home, you were meant to lead the pack and run the social circles.

You head into the bedroom of the small one-bedroom apartment and climbed into the unmade bed. More clothes littered the floor than you cared to admit. You can’t help the tears that run down your face as you pull the covers over your head.

You hate this feeling. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You don’t understand how you could go from so fricken happy while you were away, to feeling this low and shitty a week later.

You hear the front door open and sigh. You know what he sees when he walks in the house. A mess, everywhere. “Babe,” he calls out.

You don’t have the energy to respond.

You hear his feet pad across the hardwood floors and then the bed dips as he gets on it. “Hey, you a sleep?” his voice is soft as he slides across the bed and wraps his arms around you. He cradles you within his strong arms and hold on tight, pulling you back against his hard body.

Somewhere along the way, he’d lost the shirt and you can feel his smooth, hot skin slid against yours as his strong arms cradle you against him. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, when he finally gets a look of your tear streaked face.

You shake your head no, and it breaks your heart to see the pain in his eyes. His pain, for your pain. You reach out and run a hand over his scruffy beard. He’d been growing it out lately, knowing how much you enjoyed it.

You roll over, and he turns with you, so he’s lying flat on his back with you resting your head on his shoulder. His arms stay wrapped tightly around you and you shudder out a sigh of contentment as you relax into his body. You idly run a hand across his bare chest and just breathe in his scent.

You close your eyes and just feel the moment.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and says, “You know it’s going to be okay, right? Whatever it is.” He squeezes you tighter and you let the tears fall down your face.

That feeling overwhelming drowning threatens to rise up again, but Clay turns again and faces you. He pulls you into him, so your head is cradled against his chest and tangles your legs together. His powerful arms are wrapped tightly around you and you drape an arm over his side, running your hand across his bare back idly.

You love the feeling of his smooth skin, the way the muscles ripple and contract from your touch, and your touch alone.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers in your ear.

You smile faintly, but he can’t see it. Your head is buried in his chest.

“Your strong, and fierce, and brave,” he whispers, peppering your head with kisses in between each word. “You can take on the world and kick its ass with just a messy bun and a little bit of coffee,” you can feel his grin as he kisses your forehead.

You smile into his chest, feeling slightly better.

“Even if your toes smell like cottage cheese,” he adds.

“Hey!” you huff with a watery laugh and smack his chest.

His laughter sends you over the edge and you giggle. God, you love the sound of his laughter.

“You’re an ass,” you inform him, a smile on your face as you look up at him.

His beautiful baby blue eyes are twinkling down at you as he gives you one of his very best smiles. One of those charming, only reserved for you, grins. “But I’m your ass, though,” he reminds you.

“Yeaaah,” you murmur, rubbing his beard. “Yeah, you are.”

He tucks your hair behind your ear and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “How about some ice cream for dinner and shitty movie on Netflix?”

You laugh and then say, “I know you did not just try and turn this moment into a Netflix and Chill, Spenser,” you roll your eyes.

He presses another kiss to your lips and chuckles, “I wouldn’t dream of it babe.”

“Would too,” you huff, a smile on your lips.

“Can I blame a guy for tryin? My girl is damn beautiful with her messy bun and stinky toes,” he smirks up at you.

“Oh, hell no!” you huff and poke him a particularly ticklish spot on his side.

He jumps and giggles like a fricken school girl.

You have a wide grin on your face as you stare down at your man in bed. For the moment you feel better. You can let the outside noise drift away and focus on the handsome and dorky man in your bed. “Alright, ice cream and Netflix,” you agree.

He sits up and presses a kiss to you lips before he pulls you into another bear hug. “I love you. Everything is going to be okay. You’ll see. It’s just a shitty day. It’ll pass. You’ll kick this in the ass too.”

You breathe a watery sigh and hold on tight to his broad and muscular body. “God damn, I love you too,” you respond and kiss his shoulder. You close your eyes and get lost in the feeling of the safeness that was your man.

[carrotmakar]

The View From Both Sides of The Mirror

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 23.5k

Summary: Who would have thought that being stuck on a boat with your worst enemy would be a good thing?

Warning(s): Cursing, some mentions of yachtrry, Harry being a softie, Harry also being a dick, reader being down on herself

A/N: So this is my submission for @stylesharrys​ 10k follower celebration! I chose the picture above, the trope enemies to lovers, prompt “That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.”  I’ve been working on this for quite a while and I really debated deleting the entire thing a few times, but here she is, all finished and ready to be enjoyed!!

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*

Harry Styles is a lot of things. Annoying, over the top, self obsessed, judgmental, self indulgent, careless, overly flamboyant, rude, narcissistic. He’s a lot of things, but perfect is not one of them.

The media continuously had a lot of ridiculous ideas about him, most of which were laughable. You’d often scroll through your social media and snort at the things that people would post about him. You had seen some things that were quite funny, but nothing compared to the article that your best friend, Lexi, had shown you. You full body cackled after reading the title, and who could blame you? “The Perfect Man the World Didn’t Know It Was Missing” was top tier comedy.

There were a plethora of things wrong with the title that the up and coming news station had so foolishly chosen.

The most obvious of which being the fact that he was literally 26, and he’s been in the spotlight for over ten years. The world hadn’t been missing him at all. He’s been shoved in everyone’s face for over a decade and they find a new reason to act like he’s the best thing that ever happened to the universe. They over exaggerate everything, make it seem like he was either born an hour ago or just discovered yesterday. Which was definitely not the case, as you had been told numerous times by the man himself. 

The second being that they all acted like they knew him when really they had absolutely no idea who he is. The ones that covered the stories acted like they knew him as well as his childhood best friend when really they had taken a statement, at most. They had no clue who he actually was. They couldn’t tell you his favorite number, or how he fixes his toast. They don’t know the reason why he no longer wears skinny jeans. They don’t know why he’s so open with who he is and how he presents himself. None of them know anything about any of that, and it’s more bothersome than you’d like to admit. But it’s not just the people that praise him that rub you the wrong way. No, it’s even the ones that say bad things about him, that claim that he’s Satan's spawn. It was still exasperating to hear them say things about him. They acted like they knew him well enough to hate him, to paint him as the villain in their article.

Yeah, sure, you and Harry didn’t get along, but at least you had a reason. Most of the people that didn’t like him were just upset because basically everyone wanted something to do with him, and they were all mad because he was seemingly perfect. He never lost his temper (he definitely did, just not in public), he was nice to everyone (yeah, besides you), and he would never turn down a picture with a fan if it was safe to do so and he had time (that one was true. The one part of him that you don’t absolutely hate is the love that he has for his fans. He’d be nowhere without them, and he realizes that. And, although he’s not appreciative of a lot of things, he is of them).

And the final thing about the article, the one that irked your nerves the most, was that they were yet another news group to paint the picture that he was perfect, that he was the golden boy. That he had never once done something that could be seen as wrong. Which, yet again, goes to show that they don’t really know anything about him, at least not personally.

Sure, Harry Styles came off as perfect. He had to. He’s in the public eye, spotted everywhere that he goes by at least one person. He had been coached from the ripe old age of 16 to come across in that way. In his career, there has never been any room for error. One mistake could have brought down everything that the managers of One Direction were trying to accomplish.

He was conditioned into media perfection long ago. He had been told how to speak, how to act, what to wear, what to sing. Anything that could possibly cause an upset in the fandom was immediately changed, edited to make it look better. He was shaped into the boy that the world had come to love. 

But Harry, the guy that you spent the majority of your waking hours with, due to the numerous mutual friends that you had, was annoying at best. Most of the time, though, he was a complete prick.

There was nothing about the man he was behind closed doors that was perfect. He was utterly and completely himself. Most people would think that’s a good thing, him being comfortable enough to himself to the fullest extent. But you? You absolutely hated those times. He was much easier to deal with when you were out in public, when he was too worried about keeping up appearances to do anything particularly shitty. 

The two of you had never gotten along. From the very moment that the two of you had met, there was a tension. It was like there was an immediate distaste for one another. All of your friends could tell that the two of you would never get along, but they tried to force it anyway.

That night, he had seemed completely uninterested, like he’d rather be at some party that only had A-List celebrities on the guest list than there meeting you. At first, you had been hurt. But then you came to accept it. Came to accept the fact that you just weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t like the rest of your friends. All you did was work in photography, and you weren’t even one of the well off photographers. Sure, you didn’t struggle, but you weren’t on the same level as the rest of the people that you had formed friendships with.

Your mutual friends had tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you. They had done everything in their power to force the friendship. You had to give them props, they pulled all the stops, but there was nothing that anyone could do that would make you not loathe the mere thought of him. Maybe it was the fact that he made you doubt who you were. Maybe it was the fact that he gave off the asshole vibe. Or maybe, it was just because he seemed to not like you, but from that day forward, you weren’t on good terms with him.

Things had gotten so bad with Harry that you had even tried to find a new group of friends. You were tired of feeling like you were the odd man out, feeling like you had ruined every outing because you couldn’t just suck it up and get along with him. There had come a time when you didn’t even feel like you had belonged. All of the people that you had surrounded yourself with were extremely successful. Most of them were CEOs of something. But when Harry had met them, he had introduced the singers, writers, and musicians into the group. You weren’t any of those things. Sure, a lot of people saw you as an artist, but you could barely be seen as anything compared to the others, and that haunted you until you began to believe that your occupation as a photographer wasn’t valid.

So, you searched for new friends. You tried to find people that would make you feel like you belonged, like you were their equal. You just wanted some people that you could relate to. You hadn’t felt that in way too long, and being around Harry and his super successful, extremely famous friends wasn’t helping any.

You tried for a few weeks before realizing that it was pointless. He found a way to weasel himself into that aspect of your life as well. 

Every single time you met someone new, the same thing happened. You’d talk to them for a few minutes, get to know each other a little. But each time, without fail, they’d ask “Hey, aren’t you that chick that’s friends with Harry Styles?” And each time, you’d immediately walk away, never looking back.

Nobody cared about making friends with you, they just wanted to have a way to Harry. Every cell in your body was filled with regret. You had made the decision to openly be in the same friend group as him. You hadn’t taken into consideration that once you were spotted with him repeatedly, your life would never be the same.

It left you wanting to rip your hair out. Or at least go back in time so that you never had to meet him, never had to be in public with him. It sucked that no matter how hard you tried, he wouldn’t stay out of your life. He was present even when he physically wasn’t, and it was aggravating beyond belief.

It was safe to say that you hate Harry Styles.

It was also safe to say that Harry Styles hates you.

You were so uptight, always sticking up your nose at everything that he did. You had done it since the moment that you had met him and it seemed as if you had never stopped.

You had given him a look that could only be described as one filled with disdain the moment that you met him, and from that moment on he had tried his best to distance himself from you. With the both of you running in the same circle, though, that was pretty hard.

So, he had just tried his best to ignore you. That didn’t work very well either, seeing as you always had a reaction to everything that he did. And none of those reactions were ever positive.

You acted like there was something wrong with him spending the money that he earned. It got on his nerves more than just about anything. What was he supposed to do with it? Was he just supposed to let it sit in his bank account for the rest of his life? He donates a large chunk of everything that he earns every year, it wasn’t like he was just blowing his money on meaningless things. He had his priorities straight.

He had come to despise nights out, knowing that you would be there. You always had something to say. Or not say, rather. You’d never tell him that it was exactly that made you so upset with him. Every time you would send him a look, he’d ask why, but you’d simply turn on your heel or slip out of the booth, heading to the dance floor to be as far away from him as possible.

He was a simple man, really. He just wanted to go out with his friends, buy something strong off the top shelf, and drink until he was in the cuddly mood that his mind automatically switched into when there was enough alcohol running through his veins.

But with you there? Oh, he couldn’t do that. God forbid he buys something expensive like that. God forbid that he spend his money on what he wanted to. Every time he’d order his drink, you’d curl your nose up, as if you were completely disgusted by his choice. And every time that he would get overly touchy and want to cuddle someone, he would automatically seek you out. He didn’t know why, and he despised his brain for thinking of no one else but you. 

He knew that the fact that he never chose someone else to agitate probably made you hate him even more than you already did, and he went home every weekend feeling awful about it. He never meant to annoy you. Sure, he hated you, couldn’t stand the way you acted like you were better than him, like you were higher up than him even though he saw the two  of you as equals, but he never meant to purposefully get on your nerves. He never went out of his way to cause you to hate him even more. 

However, that didn’t stop you from thinking that he did. Didn’t stop you from thinking that he’d do anything in his power to pester you. It didn’t stop you from hating him more and more every day.

*

When your friends had called you and told you that they wanted to go on vacation, you were excited. You could use a break, a bit of time to forget about all the stress and just relax on a boat with your friends. Plus, you had never been to Brighton, so there was no way you were going to say no to that experience.

However, the initial glory of the idea wore off the moment that you realize Harry’s the only one with any kind of boat. Which means in order to have the relaxing getaway that you want, you'll have to deal with him for at least a few hours every day, if not every moment that the sun is up. If you’re completely honest, you don’t even understand how he’s going to get the yacht to Brighton when it’s kept in the States. You didn’t question it, though, because that’s the reason that Lexi gave you. Which means that has to be the reason that he has to go.

To top it off, it won’t even be like it normally is. If he gets you worked up enough, you can’t even just walk away and leave, you’ll be stuck on his boat in the middle of a body of water, with no way to swim to land without risking something bad happening.

You had already paid the deposit for the house, but you were fully willing to let someone else take your place on the trip. Were fully willing to give up the vacation because there’s no way in the world that you could spend an entire week with Harry without something terrible happening. Plus, there was only room for four people and there were many more than just that in your friend group. They could easily find a replacement.

When you had called back to tell Lexi and Sam that you weren’t going to be attending, they all but guilt tripped you into coming along, saying that they had invited you for a reason and that they would be really bummed out if you decided to stay behind and give someone your spot.They also gave you the look, the one they always hit you with when you back out of something just because of Harry. 

You felt bad, always ruining plans because you were in a constant argument with him, so you tried to put your pride to the side for a moment and at least listen to what they had to say.

Against your better judgement, you agree to go, but only because you would have your own room with a private bathroom attached, and your friends confirmed that they wouldn't say anything about you hiding away from Harry if he got to be too much. They also assured you that you and Harry would be separated for the majority of the trip. 

They knew that the both of you need a vacation, but neither of you can stand the other, so they promised that you would have an adequate amount of alone time to have the relaxation that vacations are supposed to bring.

After doing your shoot that night, you go home and pack the suitcases you'll need for the week that the four of you plan on staying there. You don’t pack much, just a single suitcase and a carry on. You check to make sure that you have your passport and that it’s valid, and that you have all the items from around the house that you’ll need.

Once everything is settled and put together, you flop down on your bed, switching on a random Netflix show that you’d been obsessed with lately and allowing yourself to drift off to sleep..

*

You’ll never know how your friends had let them talk you into letting them plan the entire trip. The only thing that you were told was how much your portion of the bills were and when they were due. It has annoyed you to no end, seeing that you are the type of person that likes to know every detail of what’s  going on. You had been on more than enough trips that had absolutely everything that could go wrong do exactly that, leading to ruined trip after ruined trip, that you’d rather know all the plans, maybe even make a list or two so that there are no missteps or slip ups when it comes to the actual vacation.

You texted Lexi a few hours before you had to leave to board the flight to ask if you could scan over the plans and the details of the trip, not to change anything, just to double check. Of course, she said no immediately, not understanding that you just wanted to look over it and make sure that everything was in order to calm your nerves. You didn’t want to explain this to her, though, knowing that she would begin to feel guilty for not letting you see it immediately, and that’s not what you wanted to happen.

If you had talked to her and she had actually allowed you to check literally anything for the trip, though, the first thing you would have ensured was that you wouldn’t be stuck on a plane right next to Harry for hours. You’ll never understand how she could put you in this situation, making you sit next to the most loathsome person in this world, who she knows that you can’t even be in the same room as for more than a few hours.

By the time the situation registers in your mind, however, he’s already loaded his carry on and sat down in the seat. Which means that it's definitely too late to do anything about it. Yeah, you’d rather not sit next to him for hours on end, but you’re definitely not going to cause a scene on an airplane full of people. Especially not when half of them already have their phones out, trying to discreetly take pictures of Harry.

Besides, the flight attendant is already coming around checking belts and the pilot is introducing himself and spouting out information that seemingly no one is paying attention to. This flight will be over in no time. At least that’s what you tell yourself to get through the next ten hours.

You groan, rolling your eyes at the irony of the situation. Of course something like this would happen. You had only agreed to a vacation because you needed relaxation. You needed a break from all the stress. But here you were, stuck right next to one of the biggest stress inducers in your life. Yeah, Lexi had promised you that you’d have plenty of time away from Harry at the rental house, but you were definitely making up for all the time that would be lost right now.

If you didn’t know better, you would think that Lexi and Sam were plotting against you. But that’s crazy, right? They wouldn’t do something like this on purpose, would they?

You lightly shake your head, pushing the thought from your mind. They wouldn’t do that.

You pull out your phone, queuing up the playlists you had downloaded prior to boarding. You knew that you’d want to shut yourself off from the world for the duration of the trip there, so you prepared accordingly.

You take one final glance around the cabin, seeing that everyone else has begun settling in and nobody else is announcing something important. You slip your headphones in your ears, ready to relax as much as possible throughout the flight. You know that the only way to completely avoid being pestered by Harry is to completely block him out.

The first song that comes on makes you want to laugh. You obviously don’t do such a thing, knowing that the outburst would cause every single person on the plane to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You couldn’t catch a break today. Of course one of his songs would be playing in your ears while your face was less than a foot from his. Of course it would actually be one of your favorites. You had never once in your life pressed the skip button on this song, but knowing that he’s as close to you as he is, you’re hesitant to even listen to the opening chords of the song.

“Carolina” blared through your headphones for a split second before you made up your mind and hit skip. You couldn’t risk being caught by him. There’s no way you would survive this if he found out that you listened to his music, especially since you have it saved to your playlist. There’s no way that you’d be able to play that off as you simply listening to it so that you could make fun of him for it later (which you wouldn’t do in general, you know how important his music is for him, and you’d never dampen the light that appears in his eyes when he talks about it. You’re not that cruel.).

It was quite frustrating, really. His music is fantastic, a perfect blend of the basic attributes that hook audiences that hear songs on the radio and a uniqueness that you can’t find anywhere else. His music was absolutely amazing, but the man that sang it… he was a different story.

You didn’t like to judge his tracks based on how fond of him you were when you first heard them. If you did that, you’d never listen to them in general. 

You’d never admit it to him, but every song of his, even the covers, was scattered throughout your playlists. And every once in a while, when nobody was around, you would listen to them and genuinely enjoy them. Sometimes you’d even dance along, and that’s a secret that you’ll take to the grave.

You wanted to drift off to sleep, but didn’t want to risk him hearing if one of his songs came on. Lord knows that he doesn’t need the ego boost. So, you turned the volume down until you were confident that nobody else could hear it. You lean your head back against the rest and let your eyes slip shut, finding sleep in seconds.

*

What seems like moments later, you’re being awoken by someone. You think that maybe it’s Lexi at first, but then you feel them, the rings that he never seems to take off. You jerk your body away from him, not wanting his hands to be on you. 

“Hey, it’s time to wake up. We’ve landed.” You open your eyes and glare at him, taking your headphones out. You can tell that he’s holding in a laugh and it makes you want to punch him right in the jaw. You choose not to do such a thing, however, because you’d rather not cause a scene on an airplane. So, you settle for flipping him off.

He chuckles before mimicking your action. You roll your eyes, standing up from the seat and grabbing your carry on. Harry steps back, letting you walk ahead of him. You think nothing of it until he pushes at the back of your knee, almost making you fall to the ground. What is he? A middle schooler? 

You can already tell that this is going to be a long trip, regardless of what Lexi and Sam had assured you. So far, what they had said had turned out to mean absolutely nothing to you. Not for the first time since you woke up this morning, you find yourself wishing that you hadn’t given in. That you had just said no and not let them talk you into it.

You walk with a bit more speed after you step off of the airplane, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You don’t want to have to add falling over in the middle of the airport to the list of reasons why you despise flying. You had only agreed to get on the plane this time because it was absolutely necessary in getting to Brighton.

You meet up with Sam and Lexi by the luggage pick up and all of you wait for your bags. You put all your effort into ignoring Harry, only looking in his direction or humming an approval when the conversation called for it.

“Alright, well. We need to get to the car rental service and then I have to go rent the yacht.” Harry says, making you snap your head up, looking straight at him. After a second, you turn to Lexi and Sam, looking between the two.

“Oh, no, no, no. Tell me you’re fucking joking.” You spit. “Harry just had to come, huh? And you wouldn’t let me back out? Harry’s the only one with a yacht? Yeah, he’s the only one with a yacht but he’s fucking renting one.” You can’t believe this. “Look, if I had known that me being stuck in a foreign country with him wasn’t completely necessary, I would have given someone else this vacation in a heartbeat.”

“Y/N come on…” Sam starts, but you cut him off.

“What, Sam? Want me to hold my tongue yet again so I don’t hurt Harry’s feelings?” You scoff. Why did they care about his feelings when he had never once taken yours into consideration? “Well, you know what? Fuck Harry’s feelings. He’s rude to me for absolutely no goddamn reason and I’m tired of it. I wanted to come on this god forsaken trip so that I could relax. Both of you,” you point back and forth between Sam and Lexi, “promised me that I would get to relax, that I would only be around Harry on the boat. But it seems like your word is bullshit, doesn’t it?”

Your luggage rolls around and you yank it off the conveyor. “Let’s go get the stupid ass cars. And Harry?” You turn to him, pointing your finger at him and tapping his chest. You ignore the way that the contact sends shivers up and down your spine. “Don’t you dare fucking say a word to me on the way there. Don’t touch me, for any reason. You know what? Just don’t even look at me. That should make everything a little more bearable, got that?” 

He nods, and with that, you walk towards the exit of the airport, knowing that there was no way you could continue that argument without bursting into tears. You weren’t upset in that way, you just had the habit to start crying when you were pissed off at someone to this point. They had really lied to your face. You know Lexi though, she’ll use the fact that she ‘technically didn’t lie because Harry is the only one with a yacht.’ 

You wait outside, knowing that they have the address to the car rental place, and there’s no way that you want to get lost here. You don’t look at any of them once they come out the doors, and they don’t make any effort to talk to you. 

The entire walk to the shop, you stay a few feet behind them, not wanting to be too close to any of them. It’s not even so much so that you were mad anymore, that had subsided. You were hurt. The fact that they lied to you? That was something that all of you had promised to never do to one another, even you and Harry. And what hurt even worse was the fact that the people that did lie to you weren’t who you expected to ever lie to you. If anyone was going to do something like that, you expected that it would have been Harry that did it, not them. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much if it had been Harry, but only because you had mentally prepared yourself for him to betray you, had kept your walls up against him since the moment that he showed you who he was around you.

The walk to the rental store was a short one, leaving you barely any time alone with your thoughts, which you were completely fine with. You didn’t really want to be in your head right now.

Lexi walks in, leaving the three of you outside. She comes out a moment later with two sets of keys. “Alright, who’s riding with who?”

“I’ll ride with Sam, give Y/N some time away from me.” If he hadn’t said it with the hint of sarcasm that he did, his words could have been mistaken for sweetness. But you know how he is. He makes everyone else think that he’s such a sweetheart when really he’s a prick.

*

The house is nice. Really nice, actually. The moment you walk in, you’re met with the high ceilings of the entryway. You must admit that Lexi and Sam did a great job on picking the house that you’d be staying in for the week. You walk through the entryway and see a kitchen off to the side, it’s really modern, looks like it was just redone. There’s a sitting room directly adjacent to where you’re standing. And you can see multiple doors and a hallway that leads to other rooms, which you assume are bedrooms and the half bath that would be used for guests.

You immediately go to pick a room, knowing that nobody else really plans on being in their rooms at all, so it’s not like they’ll mind. You venture down the hallway and see a few art pieces. You smile to yourself. The house is really cute. You wouldn’t mind living somewhere like this when you find someone and settle down.

You look through all the rooms before choosing the one at the very end of the hallway. There’s a large four poster bed sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a bookshelf to the right of the bed and a nightstand with a cute little lamp on it to the left. Upon walking further into the room and scanning the entirety of it, you see that there’s a dresser against the wall opposite the bed. There’s a tv sat upon the dresser. To the right of that, there’s a door that leads to the bathroom.

Even if Harry does get on your nerves during this trip, you can always come in here and escape from it all. You smile at the thought. That was truly the first thing that had been seen as a positive since you had left your house that morning. 

Since it was already pretty late, you decided to hop in the shower. Grabbing your clothes for the night and walking into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you begin peeling off your clothes. Just doing that puts you in a better mood, you had been wearing those clothes for far too long. They probably didn’t smell the best, having sat on your body for an entire plane ride.

You fiddle with the temperature settings on the shower for a moment before stepping in. The moment that the hot water hits your skin, you let out a sigh of relief. You can feel the muscles that had tensed up throughout the day start to relax.

After spending what feels like an adequate amount of time in the shower, you towel off and get dressed, making your way to the bed. You crawl under the plush comforter and immediately feel the exhaustion rack your body. You turn off the lamp and roll onto your stomach, letting sleep pull you into the blissful state where nothing bothers you

*

Lexi busted into your room early the next morning, shaking you awake until you turned to face her.

“Do you need Sam and me to get you anything from the store?” She chirped, far too giddy for any normal person to be this early in the morning.

That makes sense, though, because Lexi is far from normal. She has this electric personality, usually bringing out the absolute best in everybody.

She has been your best friend since high school. She took you under her wing during your sophomore year, her junior year.

Since then, you have been through a lot together. Crushes, relationships, heartbreaks, you and her yelling at the guy or girl that broke the other’s heart. You helped each other pick up the pieces when nobody else was there to help do so.

You had been through dozens of friendships since sophomore year, but the only one that has been a constant is her.

Sure, the both of you had changed. But you had changed together and supported one another through every decision.

You had seen her cycle through different haircuts - she had chopped off her brown curls during her senior year and instantly hated them, choosing to let them grow back out to their rightful place, right below her shoulders - and hair colors - when she cut her hair, she also dyed it a bright red, which you’re still convinced is the real reason she hated the length of it as well. You had also experienced her ever changing sense of style, which was actually a plus for you most times, because when she changed her taste and cleaned out her closet, she’d give you all of the clothes that no longer satisfied her, leaving you with a new wardrobe at least once a year.

And she had been there for you too, sticking with you through your ‘whore phase.’ Which really just consisted of you dating the ‘hottest guy in school’ - he wasn’t really that hot - and then rumors spread the next year that you were messing around with the ‘hottest girl in school’ - that one was the one that got you the label, all the guys being mad that they couldn’t get with her, seeing as she was strictly into girls. 

Lexi had also dealt with your late night calls, riddled with anxiety, not knowing what it is that you could possibly do with your future. She had calmed you down multiple times, talking through options with you. She was the reason that you came to realize that you wanted to be in the fashion industry in some way. 

She had already known what she wanted to do, had been aware of her dreams since before she even made it into high school. She used to tell you all the time, “Y/N, one of these days, I’m going to own a Fortune 500 company.” And that’s exactly what she had done. 

Which is the only reason that you got to be friends with all the people that you do. She’s also the one who introduced you to Harry, starting the rivalry between the two of you.

“No, I’m fine.” You groaned, rolling back over.

“Alright, sleepy head.” She chuckled, walking back out of your room and latching the door.

Once she’s gone, you reach over and grab your phone, checking the time. Seven A.M. You groan. Was she crazy? 

You’re definitely not pleased that you’re up this early. However, you decided to go ahead and stay up. Your alarm would be going off in two hours, and you know that you’ll be grumpy if you go back to sleep just to wake up then.

You pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. You run through all the steps of your morning routine and emerge from the bathroom, ready to take on the day.

Your way of taking on the day is going to be picking a book from the bookshelf and laying in bed until around ten, when you’re scheduled to go out to the water for the day.

*

It’s almost ten when you get the text from Sam.

We’re running late, you and H go ahead and get on the water, we’ll rent jet skis to get out there. X

You roll your eyes, of course they’d be late. And of course they’d leave you to fend for yourself with Harry.

You quickly get dressed in your dark blue bikini, the one that accentuates all your curves perfectly. You then throw an oversized band tee over your head, making sure that you’re covered enough before walking out and making sure that Harry's ready and has everything that he’ll need for the day. You’re really not in the mood to have him forget something and have to come all the way back to the house.

When you reach the living room, he’s already by the door, dressed in a pair of yellow swimming trunks and a cream colored tee. He has the yacht keys in hand, along with his phone. He already has the cooler and the bag Lexi had packed with supplies for the day (sunscreen, portable chargers, etc.). 

You just stand there for a moment, looking him over, trying to ignore the feeling that you got in your stomach. You couldn’t place exactly what it was, but it had to be one of disgust, right? You couldn’t stand being around him, he was unnecessarily rude to you and you can’t tolerate him. That feeling couldn’t be anything good, it had to be disgust, or maybe it was resentment. Either way, it stopped you in your tracks.

“You coming or what, loser? It’s enough that it’s just us, do I need to hold your hand too?” He smirks.

You push down the rising feeling in your chest, and push past him, walking over to the passenger side of the suv that he had rented for the week. 

He takes his sweet time strolling over, popping the trunk and placing the bag and cooler in before slamming it shut again. He unlocks the doors and you slide in, buckling your seat. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you make eye contact with him, he’ll be more inclined to say something dickish to you.

The ride to the water is mostly quiet, the only sound in the car being the music from the radio. Some top 40s song that you haven't heard yet was filling the air, causing the silence between you and Harry to be slightly less awkward. 

“What’re you gonna do when we get there?” He asks. You’re taken aback for a moment. Why was he even talking to you, let alone asking what your plans were for the day? Why was he being weird? “Because, honestly, you should probably tan, you look like a ghost.” There it is, the snide remark that was missing.

You scoff. “Harry, maybe don’t check me out every two seconds and you won’t notice.” You joke, knowing that he’s the last person on the planet that would ever check you out.

You expect him to hurl an insult back at you, tell you that he’d never check out someone as ugly as you, or tell you that he was only scanning to see what he could make fun of, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word, and when you turn to him, you see that the tips of his ears are red and there’s a blush creeping up his neck. Was it really that embarrassing to be accused of checking you out? 

You don’t push him, thankful for the returning silence. It only takes a few more moments to get to the docks anyway, so it’s not like the silence is stretched out for too long.

You grab the cooler and the bag this time, knowing that he’ll have to drive the yacht, and you don’t feel like hearing about how lazy you are because you didn’t do enough.

The walk to the boat is silent and filled with tension. It’s like both of you want to say something, are dying to talk to the other, but you won’t. You don’t want to talk to him, you just want to talk to someone. It’s not the same. 

Once Harry gets everything ready, you climb onto the boat, setting everything down and pulling out the sunglasses that you had decided to bring at the last moment.

“So, where do you think we should go?” You ask, knowing that he’s been here before. He’ll know how far out you can go while still being able to anchor the yacht.

“Out on the water, duh.” His words are laced with sarcasm and it makes you want to throw him overboard. Too bad he’s the only person on this vacation that’s ever had enough down time to actually learn how to handle one of these things.

“You know what the fuck I meant, stop being an idiot.” You spit, hating how easily he got a rise out of you.

He chuckles before waving you off with a, “I know what I’m doing, darling, don’t worry about it.” 

He seems to catch what he says as soon as it slips out of his mouth, his eyes widening and the blush coming back to his features. You choose to ignore it. You’d rather just go up to the deck and tan.

For a split second, you debate on whether or not you should lay out, knowing that he would think you were doing it because of the comment that he made. But then you realize that you don’t actually give a fuck about what he has to say or what he thinks with his final two brain cells. 

So, you head up to the upper deck, stripping yourself of your shirt and laying out a towel for you to rest on.

You stay in that position, only moving to flip over so that each side gets an even amount of sun, until you hear jet skis approaching.

You push yourself up, wandering down to where Harry has set up his towel. Apparently he decided to sunbathe as well. It’s not like he needed it though, he has a tan that any woman would absolutely die for. 

You quickly give him a once over, halting when you realize that he’s put a stupid hat on his head. And not even just that, he has it on backwards. What was he trying to do, absolutely kill you? 

Here’s the thing, you hate Harry, sure. But you aren’t blind. You can see how attractive he is, how his tattoos run over his tanned skin, making you want to trace each detail with the tip of your finger, or more honestly, your tongue. His muscles always accentuate everything that he wears, regardless of whether it’s one of the custom Gucci suits or a random Nike tank that he threw on to go on a run. His face is damn near perfect, so much so that it makes you want to throw up. His cheekbones are high, jawline sharp. He was blessed with the dimples, which are only made even better by his eye crinkles. And God, his hands. His hands that are constantly adorned with rings, all of which could probably pay your rent for at least a year.

It’s really not fair. In all honesty, him being as completely flawless his physical attributes seem to be is absolutely not fair. You used to scoff at the fact that people were blessed with good looks. It was all genes, right? Wrong. Sure, Anne’s gorgeous and you’re sure that Desmond had to have had something going for him when Anne met him, but Harry? He came out to be a whole lot more attractive than anyone you had ever seen. And just to add on to everything, he was the person that you hated the most in the world.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by Lexi pulling up to the side of the boat and climbing in. She doesn’t even look at you, just walks farther into the yacht. You don’t think to question her, she’s probably annoyed by something that Sam said. But then you notice that Sam isn’t getting off his jet ski, does he plan on just not taking his shirt off the entire time?

Lexi comes bounding back to where you and Harry are standing, but she again doesn’t stop. She just keeps walking, clambering back onto her abandoned vehicle. You’re confused for a second, what’s going on? But then you see them, the keys dangling in her fist. You’d know those keys anywhere. They were put on Harry’s keychain the moment that he had picked them up. She has the yacht keys.

Before you can say anything about it, she’s driving off, yelling, “Have fun!” into the wind.

“They did not just-” You start, only to be cut off by Harry. Usually, you’d be annoyed by him, but this time, you have another source of irritation.

“Yeah, they just pulled an Outer Banks on us.” He sighs, walking back to where he had originally been laying. 

“Are you not mad?” You try to stop your eyes from tracing the expanse of his back, but it seems to be impossible.  The way that his muscles are flexing under the expanse of skin drawing you in.

“No, are you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less, which is odd. Shouldn’t he be upset that he’s forced to spend an entire day alone with the person that he hates?

“Um, yeah.” You groan. Of course you’re mad, you don’t want to be here. How can he seem so calm?

“Why are you so fucking uptight all the time?” He blurts, catching you off guard. The words hit you like a train, knocking all the air out of your lungs. So this is why he hated you. You just thought that you gave him the wrong vibes or something, he seemed like the kind of person to judge based on that type of thing.

“What do you mean?” He looks over at you and rolls his eyes.

“I mean, why are you so uptight all the time?” For some reason, your chest tightens up and you feel like you’re going to cry. You’d known that he couldn’t stand you, that he’d rather not be around you, but hearing the real reason? Hearing what he really hates about you? That fucking hurts.

“Is that why you hate me?” At most, you had thought that maybe he just looked down on you, thought that you weren’t good enough to be part of the friend group because you didn’t own a fortune 500 company, or sell houses for the richest people in America, or sing to thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. But apparently not. Apparently he had an actual, legitimate reason, and for some reason, that stings.

“I don’t hate you.” You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Did he really think you’d believe that? “I just think that you’re uptight and you get on my last nerve.” 

“You hate me, Harry. Don’t try to lie about it.” He can say what he wants, but people that don’t hate you don’t act the way that he does.

“I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.” This makes you snicker. He’s such an idiot sometimes.

“That’s literally just you saying that you hate me with a different word choice.” He looks over at you, and you see the little tufts of curls sticking out from the side of his hat. The sight makes your chest ache, why does he have to be so fucking cute? Why couldn’t you be blessed with an ugly enemy?

“Whatever.” He sighs, brushing the conversation to the side.

You want to continue, but you’re almost scared to. You could just walk back up to the upper deck and continue tanning, or you could even go for a swim, but instead, you stay right where you are. You subconsciously start to play with a loose string on the shirt that you had slipped back on before coming down to Harry.

“I’m not uptight, by the way.” You say after a few moments of silence. 

He scoffs, “Yes you are.”

“How so?” You’d love to hear him explain this one, even though it’ll probably either hurt you even more or infuriate you. But you’d like to know why he thinks you’re so uptight,

“You think you’re better than everyone, especially your friends. You have the money to do what you want but you turn your nose up at the finer things in life and give all of us dirty looks when we drink from the top shelf or buy something super expensive.” You’re speechless for a moment, but he doesn’t seem to be done, so it doesn’t really matter. “You act like there’s something better about you getting cheap tequila and wearing the same clothes over and over again. Well, think about it this way, yeah, I buy from the top shelf and I wear a lot of new clothes, but most of those clothes, I get sent. Most of them I don’t even pay for. Which honestly, you’ll probably find to be worse. But yeah, you’re uptight.”

After a moment, the words ignite a fire in you. “First of all, that shows how little you know about me, Styles. I don’t have the money to do what I want. I have money, sure. But not that much. I have enough money from my job to pay for rent, bills, food, and then have a little bit to splurge on myself.” You really don’t want to have this conversation with him, you don’t like to talk about your financial situation with anyone, let alone him. “But nowhere near enough to spend excessive amounts on alcohol or drop almost a grand on a striped t-shirt with a pig on it that’s literally the size of my fingernail. Not all of us can be big shot CEO’s or superstars.”

He looks shocked by your words, which just further added to your point. He didn’t know you, not at all. He pretended to know you, made assumptions about you, all of which seemed to make him hate you more and more.

“Well you still give us dirty looks.” You almost snort at his feeble attempt to save his argument.

“I literally don’t but okay. I don’t really care what you think about me. Hate me if you want to. You’ll be annoying either way.” You turn on your heel to get as far away from his as possible, but he stops you with his words.

“I’m not annoying.” This time, you actually do let out a chuckle. Him thinking that he’s not an annoying little prick is honestly better comedy than the specials they try to run on TV.

“The fuck you aren’t, Harry. All you do is make snide comments.” Who did he think he was? A saint?

“I do not. Don’t start your shit, Y/N.” He glares at you, but his looks don’t have the effect that he wishes this time, they just add fuel to the fire still burning bright inside of you.

“Don’t start my shit?” You snicker. He has to be fucking kidding. “You tell me how trashy I look in outfits that I think I look great in. You tell me my makeup looks like shit and that if I was trying to impress someone, I failed, even though all I do is put it on for myself. You tell me to stop trying so hard to get attention when I’m literally trying to blend in as much as possible.” You’re trying to hold the emotion back, to not cry in front of him, because you’ve already spent enough time crying over the things that he’s said. “You call me a slut when I have a one night stand like you don’t literally bring a different girl hom every fucking night. So I don’t wanna hear it, Harry.”

If looks could kill, the one that he’s giving you at the moment would have you six feet under. “You don’t fucking know me. I don’t bring a new girl home every night, you make me sound like a fuckboy.” 

You roll your eyes. “I could make you sound a lot worse. And maybe there’s not one every night, but there’s at least one a week, and I have a one night stand what, maybe once every couple months? If even that?” You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, maybe I don’t know you, but that’s not my fault. I didn’t make the choice to not know you. You pushed me away the second you met me, even though I did nothing to you. You didn’t let me know you. But you don’t know me either.” The tears are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You look up towards the sky, trying to make them subside. Once you feel confident enough in the fact that they won’t drop, you look back at him. “You’re not just annoying, you’re a dick. The shit you say? God, if you knew how much that shit can hurt someone.”

“Don’t come at me and say that any of that hurts you. You fire right back and then go on with your day.” The smirk that he has plastered on his face makes you want to knock him into a new dimension, but you compose yourself. He isn’t worth it.

“Yeah, of course I just let it roll off my shoulders while I’m around you. Have you ever thought about why that is? About why I seem to not care?” Your voice has slowly but surely become louder. “It’s because I’m not going to cry my eyes out and let myself wonder if maybe you’re right, that maybe I do look like shit and should cover up as much of my body as possible, right in front of you!” By the end, you’re screaming, and you don’t even care. 

You take a deep breath and continue, “I can’t give you the fucking satisfaction. Because Lord knows that you’ll just hold that over my head too.”

That seems to have some sort of effect on him. His face falls almost immediately, that god awful smirk disappearing. His eyes seem to get softer, and a part of you wants to walk over and hug him. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. He’s the guy you hate the most.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” He mumbles as you’re getting ready to head back to the upper deck.

“I’m sorry.” He tries, but you’re not going to let him off the hook that easy.

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Harry. It’s not like you're even sorry anyway. You don’t care about me, so don’t start acting like you do now.” With that, you turn on your heel and make your way back up to continue tanning.

Once you get back to your towel, you let the few stray tears fall. You hate that he has the power to make you cry, but you can’t help it. He just gets to you, regardless of how hard you try to guard yourself from him.

He comes up after a few minutes and you look over at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m going for a swim. If you need anything, I’ll be in the water.” He states, and you turn back around.

“Have fun.” You spit, the words laced with sarcasm. 

He doesn’t reply. You hear his footsteps receding and then a splash signaling that he’s jumped off of the boat.

For some reason, you have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. At first, you ignore it, but then you stop hearing the sloshing of the water. You can’t help but let yourself get a little panicked. You may not be the biggest fan of the guy, but you can’t just let him drown.

You stand up from your spot on the towel and walk over to the side of the boat that you heard the initial splash come from.

You make your way back down to where you and Harry had fought. You grimace at the thought. Had that really been one of the last things he ever heard? No, you can’t think like that. 

You look to your right and notice that all four life jackets are still hooked on the railing. Of course he didn’t take a life jacket. Anything could have happened to him and now you wouldn’t even be able to float. He could be sinking to the bottom, never to be found again.

Yeah, he can swim. He’s actually a really good swimmer, but he could have hit his head on the boat when he jumped in. Or he could have dove down under the water and ended up getting caught on something. 

You rush over to slip one of the life jackets and grab an extra. The last thing that you needed was to find him and not be able to drag him back to the boat because he’s too heavy.

You jump in, the life jacket keeping you afloat. With there being no need to concentrate on not drowning, you focus all your efforts on finding Harry. You can’t see him anywhere in the general vicinity, so you start looking under the water as long as you’re able to.

You’re trying your hardest, but you can’t find him. 

You start to panic. Suddenly you find it hard to breathe and the tears are streaming down your face. You immediately blame yourself. You should have just stopped earlier, should’ve realized that there’s a better time to argue with him. Maybe if you had just been a little nicer, the two of you could have gotten along for the day. Why didn’t you just stop? Why didn’t you at least accept his apology?

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a strong pair of arms wrapping around you. You scream, not knowing who it could possibly be. You twist in their arm, realizing that it was only Harry.

You push away from him. “What the fuck, Harry? I thought you died!”

“Really? And you came out here to look for me?” He asks, and for a moment, you think he might be grateful, but you can already see the smirk forming on his lips. You choose to ignore it for the moment, though.

“Yeah, I couldn’t hear you swimming around anymore and I thought maybe you had hit your head on something or gotten pulled under or something like that. Where were you?” You’re trying to wipe the tears off of your face, but your hands are just as soaked as your face, so it does absolutely no use.

“The other side of the boat, why didn’t you just check over there?” His smirk is present in full force now.

“I don’t know, slipped my mind, I guess.” You mumble, knowing that this could have all been avoided if you had just looked on the other side of the boat.

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” He chuckles.

You push even further away from him, throwing the life jacket you had brought for him in his face. “You’re such a fucking dick! Sorry that I cared too fucking much about your life to check the entire perimeter of the boat before trying to save you!”

You can’t believe him. You didn’t think of one thing, in the heat of the moment, and now you’re stupid? Wow. Okay, next time you’ll just let him drown.

You start to swim back towards the boat. He’s following you, but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it.

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.” You don’t even turn back to him.

“Problem is, Styles, you really are that heartless.” You spit, climbing back onto the boat, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

He clambers up after you, trying to get your attention. You actively ignore him, though.

He grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the joint. You spin on your heel.

“Let me go, Harry.” you demand.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His eyes are pleading with you, but you genuinely can’t care any less. 

“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” You throw his words back at him.

His face immediately falls, not liking how the words hurt him. He deserves it though. All you were trying to do was help him and he was an absolute prick. 

You storm back up to your towel, laying down and trying to dry yourself off. 

Not too long after you head back up, he brings you a sandwich that he made with the supplies he had packed in the cooler.

“Thought you might be hungry.” He mumbles when he sits the plate down. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, just turns back and heads to where he came from.

You wait until he’s gone to eat, only doing so because it’s already made and you wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.

*

What seems like eons later, but was definitely only hours, Lexi and Sam get dropped off at the boat by a random couple you’ve never seen before.

You rush down to where they are.

“Did you guys get any closer?” Sam asks. 

You just roll your eyes and stick your hand out. “If you don’t hand the keys back this fucking instant, I will not hesitate to jump off this boat and swim back to the docks.”

Lexi looks at you with wide eyes and hands over the keys. The moment that you have them in your hands, you stomp over to Harry and chuck them at him.

“Drive this stupid ass boat back to the docks, and don’t you dare fuck around or you’ll get thrown overboard and I won’t bother to come looking for you.” He doesn’t argue with you, just picks up the keys and makes his way to the wheel.

“What happened?” Lexi questions, but you just brush her off.

“Ask him, he’ll tell you with a fucking smirk on his face.” You walk over to the bench and sit down, not wanting to talk to anyone else throughout the trip back.

*

It only registers with you that you’ll have to ride back to the house with Harry after you get to the docks.

“I’m walking home.” You announce, knowing that it’ll only take fifteen minutes tops to get back to the rental.

“What are you talking about?” Harry and Sam ask at the same time.

You ignore Harry, turning back to Sam. “I’m walking back to the house. It shouldn’t take me long, and there’s no way in hell I’m riding with him.”

With that, you turn and start walking. The road is secluded, lined by trees.

After a few minutes, they drive up to you. Harry rolls down his window. “Y/N, come on, I’ll walk if it’s that big of a deal.”

You raise your hand, flipping him off. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your Gucci shoes.”

He sighs, rolling the window back up and continuing to drive. He knows better than to argue with you right now. There’s no way that he’ll win.

You slow your stride, wanting to prolong the walk as long as possible. You only speed back up when the clouds start to turn into a viscous shade of gray.

The one thing that could bother you more than Harry is thunderstorms. And you can tell by the state of the sky that a bad one’s coming.

*

You sneak back into the house, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Thankfully, there’s nobody in the living room. Everyone seems to have retired to their rooms. 

As you’re creeping down the hallway, you hear Harry talking to Lexi. Her door is slightly ajar and you can’t help but stop and listen.

“No, no. Lexi, I know. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have called her stupid. All she was trying to do was help me. God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” You can hear his voice waiver and you think for a moment that he might be crying. You quickly push the thought from your mind. Why would Harry be crying over you?

“Yeah, you did fuck up. Harry, this isn’t how you treat people that you care about.” Every trace of air leaves your lungs at that. Since when does Harry care about you? You want to blame it on him lying, but why would he? It’s just Lexi. And they have no way of knowing that you’re here. He must be telling the truth. 

“I know, I know. We were arguing before then, She told me about how shitty I make her feel and it absolutely tore my heart into pieces. I don’t mean to make her feel that way.” You can’t deny that he’s crying, hearing the sob come less than a millisecond after he finishes.

“I know that, H. But she doesn’t, She thinks you get a kick out of hurting her. She really thinks you hate her.” You can visualize what she’s doing, knowing how she comforts like the back of your hand. She’s running her hand over Harry’s back, trying to soothe him. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll push his hair back and wipe the tears from his face, tell him that it’ll all be okay.

“I’m aware. But I don’t, I hate hurting her. That’s what I hate, not her.” If he doesn't hate you, then why does he act the way that he does?

“Then go show her.” You smile, Lexi knows you so well. She knows that you judge people off their actions. And that you don’t believe a word anyone says until they show you that their words actually mean something.

“Alright. I will when she gets home.” The determination in his voice makes your heart swell. 

You hear him get off of his bed and you scurry to your room, not wanting to face him, and really not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. You slip inside and close your door just in the nick of time. Half a second after you’re out of sight, you hear his feet padding along the hallway to his room.

You sigh, a million thoughts running through your head. 

Could he really care about you?

If he does, why is he so rude to you all the time?

How does he expect to make this up to you?

You decided to take a shower. Not only to get clean, but also to clear your head. The second the water hits your skin, you know that there’s no way this shower is going to be as quick as you had planned. For a long time, you just stand under the stream of water, letting your mind run rampant with the thoughts of Harry. 

Is it a good thing that he could care about you? Sure, you see how he is with everyone else, and you’ve always craved to have that with him. And hating him is absolutely exhausting, most of the time you’d rather just fall into the easy conversation that he’s able to have with the rest of his friends. 

But would it be that easy? Probably not. Nothing was ever that easy when it came to him.

Are you willing to work for it? If Harry takes the initiative and tries to show you that he does care, then yes.

Once you come to that conclusion, you realize just how long that you’ve been in the shower. Your body is starting to prune, and the water has gotten significantly cooler.

You step out and throw on the shirt that you slept in the night before, but not slipping on the shorts.

You open the bathroom door and trudge over to the bed, flopping down and switching the lamp off. 

Usually, you could never fall asleep comfortably during storms, but after the day that you’ve had, your eyes are shut and sleep is overtaking you in mere moments.

*

Far too soon, you’re being shaken awake. 

The first thing you notice is that it’s dark outside. Who in their right minds is waking you up before sunrise, you don’t know.

The second thing you notice is the chill of someone’s cold rings on your skin. The contact makes a shiver run down your spine. 

You immediately roll over and face him. The sight of him is not great. He’s soaked from head to toe, water dripping on the floor. You almost have the nerve to scold him for not drying off, but then you realize that he has no reason to be wet. What did he do? What happened to him?

“When did you get home?” He asks, voice sticking in his throat.

“Earlier. Why are you wet?” Your voice is hoarse from sleep and you pray that you don’t sound revolting.

“Went out in the storm.” He shrugs. “None of us heard you come home. I guess when I checked in here earlier you were in the shower or something.”

“Why did you guys go looking? You could’ve just called or texted.” You say, then realize that you may have seemed ungrateful. “Not that I’m complaining, thanks for worrying about me.”

“Well, you see, Sam and Lexi thought you’d be fine. You know the way home, after all. They just thought you had stopped somewhere to cool off and wait out the storm. I went looking though, I was really worried. And I didn’t text or call because I, um, don’t exactly have your phone number.” He lets out a dry chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

Your heart swells. Harry went looking for you. He walked right out into a thunderstorm because he was worried that you were stuck out there by yourself.

“Hey, um, so I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but I heard a snippet of your conversation with Lexi earlier while I was walking to my room.” You gulp, hoping he doesn’t think you’re creepy or anything. “Did you really mean what you said?”

“Which part did you hear?” His question is laced with anxiety and he looks like he’s seconds away from passing out.

“Um, from the part where you said you fucked up and didn’t really hate me.” You mumble.

“Yeah, I meant every word. I also meant it when I said I was gonna show you that I care about you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes. You can’t help the feeling you get in your chest. This man just went out into the pouring rain, lightning falling all around him, just to look for you.

“I think you already did, H.” Regardless of how he treated you in the past. Hell, how he treated you in the past twenty four hours, you can’t help but see tha the really does care about you. Lexi and Sam, the two people in the house who were supposed to not hate you in the slightest didn’t even go looking, but the one person who was supposed to not give a fuck about whether you’re breathing or not did.

“Did you- you just called me H?” He stumbles, and a smile comes to your face.

“Yeah? So?” He said it like it was a good thing, but you could never be too sure with him.

“So, you’ve never done that before.” His expression is unreadable. Usually you can tell exactly what he’s thinking, but right now you’re coming up blank.

“Do you not want me to? I can stop saying it.” You wouldn’t ever want to do something that he’s uncomfortable with, you just thought that’s what everyone called him.

“No!” he blurts. “No, please don’t stop. I like the way it sounds coming from you.”

“Alright.” you grin “H.”

The smile that breaks out over his face is the biggest that you’ve ever seen. “Wait, what did you mean I already did?” He wonders. 

 “You just risked getting sick to go out in the pouring rain to try to find me.” Which reminds you, if he doesn’t get in a warm shower and some dry clothes soon, he’s going to catch something.

“It’s the least I could do.” His cheeks are turning a light shade of pink, and you really hope that it’s a blush and not him being cold.

“Yeah, but that shows me that you care, H.” You say, getting up from the bed and checking to see if you had brought the extra sweatpants and sweatshirt. Unfortunately, you hadn’t. 

“I’m sorry, by the way. Like really sorry. I hate myself for what I said. I’m so stupid. You were just trying to save me and I was a dick.” You appreciate the sentiment, you really do, but right now, that’s not your concern.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, because, really, it is.

“No, it’s not.” He doesn’t want to believe it, but it really is. You wouldn’t be letting him drip excessive amounts of water on the floor if you were still mad at him. 

“Yes, H, it is. Now come on, let me go get you some clean clothes. Go get in the shower, there are towels in the bathroom.” You’ve come to the realization that you’d have to retrieve his clothes, seeing as you hadn’t exactly planned for something like this.

“Y/n, it’s fine. I can just go take a shower in my room.” He tries, but you immediately refuse.

“No. You can take one in here so I know that you take one and don’t just change into dry clothes.” The look he gives you lets you know that was exactly what he was planning to do.

“I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckle, pleased that he knows well enough to not argue with you any further on this.

“Not a chance, now get your ass in there.” You put your hands on his shoulders and nudge him towards the bathroom. You try your hardest to not think about the way his muscles ripple underneath your digits.

“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He concedes, trodding into the bathroom.

You wait until you hear the water running before you exit the room to find his clothes. You make the journey to his room, grabbing boxers and a pair of sweatpants from his bag. You don’t bother trying to find a shirt, knowing from the countless times that he’s stripped out of one to take a nap at a friends house that he never wears them to bed.

You make your way back to your room, sitting the clothes down on the small table sat outside the bathroom door.

His vast collection of rings is placed on the table as well. He must have taken them off and sat them there after you left. 

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and picks up the rose ring that adorns his hand more often than not. It’s gorgeous, and you can’t stop your fingertips from running across the designs. The band is etched with leaves and vines, and upon further inspection, you feel that there’s a little caterpillar seemingly hidden on the inner part of the ring.

It’s heavy in your hand and you can't help but wonder just how much metal was used to make this ring. It’s obvious that it was hand etched, so your mind tries to picture how big the piece was before the carving started.

After a few moments, you place it back on the table, picking up his Cartier ring. You wonder for a moment how something so simple could cost the ridiculous price that it did. Sure, it’s absolutely gorgeous, but the price tag that you know it carries is enough to make the appeal fade. You don’t have the luxury of dropping thousands on a ring.

He opens the door and you immediately drop the ring, cheeks burning from being caught. You know how much he adores his rings, and you’re scared for a split second that you’ve overstepped, crossed a boundary that he wouldn’t be comfortable with.

All your worries are washed away, though, when he says, “Wear it.” He reaches over for his clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist.

You gawk at him. Was he serious? “H, I can’t do that.” You go to scramble away, before your eyes get caught on the way that the water droplets from the shower cling to him, the sheen making his tattoos even more vivid. God, what you would do to trace every line and seemingly miniscule detail.

He gives you a soft smile, and your heart speeds up to a rate that has to be unhealthy, especially since you’re sitting still, your back rimrod straight. “Yes you can. Go ahead, put it on.” He urges.

You sigh, picking up the Cartier ring that you had been admiring moments prior and slip it on your ring finger, that being the one you wear all rings on. You glance up at him through your lashes and you can see the way that his eyes seem to have lit up. You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters, the butterflies going absolutely wild.

He chuckles, looking down at your finger, where the ring sits, looking about five sizes too small. You join along, letting a lighthearted laugh slip through your lips. It truly was ginormous on you, but you expected no less. He does have large hands, after all.

“I’ve got a chain around here somewhere, keep the ring.” He says nonchalantly, like he’s not gifting you a fucking Cartier ring.

“Harry, no, it’s too expensive.” You can’t possibly accept this ring, so you really hope that he doesn’t fight you on it. You’re pretty sure you’d say yes to just about anything if he keeps looking at you like he’s just seen the most precious thing in the world.

“If you don’t keep it and wear it, I’ll never wear it again, so it might as well be worn by you.” He argues, giving you the stern look that you know well. It’s always the one that says not to argue back, that he’ll just continue pestering you if you do.

Knowing that the argument would go on for hours on end if you didn’t, you reluctantly agree.

He gives a triumphant smile before returning to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

A moment later, he comes back out into your room and your ability to breathe is gone. You swear he’s the most perfect person you’ve ever seen. Sure, you’ve seen how pretty he is before, but you’ve never let yourself truly see how perfect he is. Maybe you prematurely judged that article. Maybe they had a point. 

The muscles in his upper body ripple under his tan skin, making your mouth damn near water. You avert your eyes from his shoulders to his chest, admiring the butterfly inked onto his abdomen. You had always adored that tattoo, at times you even wished that you had thought of the idea before he had. You see the way that the ferns underneath trace his lower stomach, the endings leading a trail right to the band of his sweatpants. 

God, why would you get him gray sweatpants? At this view, your mouth actually does water, wondering how good he would look with even less on.

Him shuffling over to pick up his rings is what breaks you out of your trance, your cheeks heating up from the thoughts that had been running through your mind.

He places each of the rings carefully back on his hands, sans the Cartier ring. He left that one on the table, looking up at you with a smirk.

He begins to make his way out the door, but you stop him.

“H,” you give him your best puppy eyes when he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, “Will you stay with me? I’m scared of thunderstorms.”

“Are you really?” He doesn’t say it in a mocking way, it’s more in a perplexed way. You’re not confused by this in the slightest, as far as he used to be concerned, you’re not scared of anything.

“Yeah,” you admit, “but I also want to get to know you. Feel like we’ve missed a lot while hating each other.”

He sighs, “Never hated you.”

You smile, “I know, I know, but I thought you did. Made me not able to get to know you very well.”

“Alright.” He agrees. “Let me go put my rings up and get that chain for you and then I’ll stay.”

You wait patiently as he does just that, wondering why you had never just taken the time to talk to him before. Would it really have been that simple? 

“Here you are.” He speaks when he reenters the room, walking over to the stand and placing the ring on the chain. Once he’s done, he gently sets it back down, ensuring that the chain doesn’t get tangled, and then trudges over to you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, probably just intending to stay until you fall asleep, and at first you’re fine with that. But then you start to get progressively more tired, and your clinginess starts kicking in, that fact that you’re touch starved not helping.

“H.” you groan, making his ears perk up and his eyes snap to yours.

“Hmm?” he wonders.

You make grabby hands at him. “Come cuddle with me.”

A smile breaks out on his face and your stomach does the flippy thing that makes your heart race.

He slowly crawls towards you, as if he’s giving you enough time to take back your words, to give him any sign that you regret ever asking him to come up to you. Once he’s right beside you and you’ve made no move to stop him, he slips under the covers and pulls you close.

You immediately sigh in content and place your head on his chest, the sleepiness taking over more and more as you listen to his heartbeat against your ear.

RIght before you completely drift off, you mumble, “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” You hope he hears you, but you don’t have the time to check, sleep overtaking your body and pulling you under.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you let your eyes stay shut, not wanting to be greeted with the sunlight just yet.

You shift slightly and realize that you’re still laying with Harry. You can feel his solid chest under your head, your legs are tangled with his. 

After a moment, you can feel him looking at you, “It’s rude to stare, H.” You joke, expecting him to laugh.

He doesn’t, though, instead he just whispers, “Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.” 

You immediately blush, burning under the compliment. You’re still not used to being this close to Harry in general, but receiving compliments from him is even weirder.

“Can I tell you something?” You look up at him, waiting for him to accept your question.

“Yeah, anything.” He holds eye contact with you, your faces mere inches apart. You could very easily push yourself up and attach your lips to his, but you refrain, not wanting to push too far. You had just started really talking to each other last night.

“I never hated you either.” You say, the words barely audible. You’re ashamed of it, of the fact that you pretended to hate him, probably making everything worse than it had to be.

“Really?” He looks hopeful, like he’s praying that you’re not joking with him. 

“Really. I just thought that you hated me. Figured that we should at least balance each other out.” You let out a humorless laugh, trying to make light of the situation, but you still can’t shake the guilt. You probably could have been lying in bed with him a long time ago had you just made it clear that you didn’t hate him.

“So all this time, neither one of us hated the other, but we both thought we did?” He has a smirk etched on his face, and a very large part of you wants to close the space between the two of you. You can’t handle the smirk right now, not when his chestnut curls are framing his face the way that they are. Not when his bare chest is still pressed against you, warming you up in the most delightful way.

“Basically.” You can’t help but giggle. The situation really is quite ridiculous.

You move to get up and he pouts, holding onto you and trying to get you to stay in his arms, he’s enjoying the warmth that you’re radiating. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, making your throat constrict. He sounds so pretty when he whines.

“I’ve gotta pee, I’ll be right back.” You promise, knowing that the words will soothe him.

“Don’t go…” He tries giving you puppy dog eyes, but they won’t work this time, not when you can feel the urge to use the bathroom growing.

“I have to pee, but I promise I’ll come back to exactly where I was when I’m done.” You reach over to him and push a stray curl behind his ears, reveling in how soft that his hair is.

“Good, I wanna keep cuddling.” He mumbles, and you can’t help but feel the butterflies return yet again. You can’t believe that Harry was just begging you to stay curled up in bed with him.

It all seems a little off, having him in your bed, cuddling with you. Less than twenty four hours prior, you were screaming at each other on a boat about how much you can’t stand each other, and now neither of you do? You come to find out that the both of you were faking it this entire time? The entire situation is a little confusing, but you’re a lot happier with it than you were with being at each other's throats all the time.

Now that the two of you are being more honest with each other, you figure it’s probably time to start being more honest with yourself. And that starts with admitting the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for him. 

You had seen how attractive he was the moment that you had even laid eyes on one of the numerous articles about him. You aren’t shallow though, that’s not what made you have the feelings that you had developed for him. You could also see just how nice he was to everyone else, how he lit up every room that he walked into. How everyone was always put into a better mood just by his presence. You began to fall for that version of himself, the one that he was with everyone else. You had caught feelings before he even said a word to you. There were times when you had been at the same party or event, and you’d be able to feel the effect he had on everyone else. And at first, that was intimidating, but then you felt a pull to him. Like the two of you were magnets and were destined to be together.

But then you actually talked to him, and everything went south.

Now, though, you’ve realized that he’s only like he is with you because he thought that you hated him. Which is absurd to you, but you were quite distant that night. You had been overwhelmed, thinking that you were inferior to him in every way that night. Maybe that’s why he thought that you hated him, because you didn’t show that much interest, because you seemed like you didn’t want to get to know him.

You don’t really know how to process that information. This entire thing had initially been your fault, had you just gotten over yourself and realized that you’re good enough to talk to him, all of this could have been avoided.

As you wash your hands and get ready to exit the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what everything’s going to be like. How are you going to act around each other? Is it gonna change? Are you still going to bicker or are you going to act like everything’s perfectly fine? 

You scoff at yourself, of course you’re still going to bicker, that’s who you are. Plus, nobody’s perfect, all friends argue about something at points.

When you come out of the bathroom he’s sitting on the end of the bed. You raise your eyebrows in question. “Thought we were gonna keep cuddling?” 

He quickly rises when he sees you. “Had a slightly better idea.” He holds out his hand and waits for you to take it.

“I’m more of a touchy kind of person.” He starts after you take his hand. “I show that I care about people by physical touches.” He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If we’re gonna tell them that we don’t hate each other, we’ve got to at least make it believable.”

“Stop making it sound like we’re pretending.” You laugh. “You just cuddled with me throughout the night. There’s no way in hell we hate each other. But yeah, I’m that way too, so I don't mind the touches.” You assure, pulling back and reconnecting your hands.

He gives you a reassuring look as you walk out of your room and into the sitting room. Sam and Lexi stop the conversation they were having immediately and look over at the two of you. Their jaws are on the floor within moments, obviously not believing what they're seeing. 

“Why are you holding hands?” Sam blurts, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room.

“H, you only do that with girls you’re dating or girls that you’re friends with. What’s happening?” Lexi adds, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

“Wanna explain?” Harry asks, squeezing your hand.

“Sure.” You say.

You begin to explain it to them, making sure to get all the details. Harry’s mostly quiet beside you, only inputting anything when you forget something.

For a moment after you finish, the silence is back. Lexi and Sam look at you like you’re absolutely insane. After a minute of letting their brains process the information, they finally let smiles break out on their faces, jumping up from the couch to hug the both of you, excited that you guys can finally get along.

*

After a little while of the four of you sitting around and talking, it’s decided that everyone should go out on the yacht. This time, though, nobody will be stealing any keys.

Once you get out to the desired spot on the water and anchor the boat, you turn to Harry. “Hey, H?” 

“Yeah, love?” He used the term like it’s no big deal, but it makes your stomach churn in the best way possible.

“Wanna go swimming? Promise not to think you’ve drowned again.” You chuckle.

Harry doesn’t seem as amused though, still feeling guilty about how he treated you. “Sure, promise not to be a dick again.”

You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your head into his chest. “I told you it was alright, H. Stop beating yourself up over it.”

He sighs, nodding his head. You grab his hand, pulling him along the deck to the edge of the boat.

“Wanna jump together?” You look over at him and see the smile break out across his face, the dimples and eye crinkles out in full force.

“Yeah, love, let’s do it.” Before you can think too much about the second use of the word, he’s counting down from three and then you’re jumping, body submerging into the crystal water.

If you had been paying more attention to anyone besides Harry, you would have seen the way that Lexi and Sam were caught up in watching you, wondering how in the world the two of you had done a full one eighty in less that twenty four hours. Sure, they wanted the two of you to get along, but they never expected you to get this close as fast as you did.

After a while of swimming around with Harry, you decide to get out and try to tan, seeing as not everyone can be actors that get paid to go swimming and get tans.

As you do so, you can feel Harry’s eyes on your body, but you choose not to acknowledge it. For a moment, you want to invite him to come tan with you, but you don’t want to make your feelings too obvious to him.

*

When it starts to get dark, Lexi proposes that everyone head back to the deck. You agree, ready to go home and get out of your bikini. 

Harry tries to get you to drive the yacht, even trying to teach you, but to no avail, you have absolutely no skill when it comes to driving boats.

Once you get to the docks and clamber off the yacht, the group splits up, Lexi and Sam going towards their car while you and Harry head towards his.

“Are you hungry, darling?” He ponders once you’re settled in the car.

“I mean a little bit, why?” You reach over to turn on the radio, letting the soft sounds of music play through the car.

“I saw this cute little diner when I was looking for you last night.” He says, handing you his phone. “Plug up the aux cord and play something from Spotify.”

You scroll through his spotify, seeing that his work out playlist is just One Direction songs. You almost snort, but don’t want to give away the song you’re going to choose.

After another moment of scrolling, you turn the volume on the speakers all the way up, clicking on “What Makes You Beautiful” and letting the opening chords play through the car.

He smirks, looking over at you. “I hope you know that you’re expected to scream this with me.”

Your features mirror his, “Oh, trust me, I planned on it.”

*

When you reach the diner, you see just how cute it really is. But then you realize that the two of you had been in the car for almost twenty minutes, which arguably isn’t a long time, but to walk this far it would have taken forever.

“H, you walked this far looking for me?” You ask, although you already know the answer.

“Yeah. Well, technically, I walked further.” He blushes at his words and your heart melts in your chest. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, though. It had been storming, full on thunder and lightning every few seconds. He could have gotten hurt, yet he put his safety to the side because he thought that you hadn’t come home yet. If only you had put aside your pettiness and just let everyone know that you had arrived home safely, he wouldn’t have had to walk out in the storm at all.

You walk into the diner, shaking the thoughts from your head. Harry leads you to a booth near the back, one that’s placed right next to a window with a wonderful view.

Moments after you’re settled into your seat, a waiter comes up to you and takes your order. You notice that he’s paying special attention to you, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable, so you turn to Harry after reciting your order. “What do you want, baby?”

He gives you a questioning look but ultimately goes along with it, not even missing a beat. He gives his order to the waiter and waits until he walks away to turn back to you. “What was that about?”

“He was staring at me, looking me up and down, it made me really uncomfortable.” You say, looking down at your hands. “Thought if he believed we were together that he’d stop, which he didn’t.” You scoff at the audacity of the waiter. “Sorry if I ended up just making you uncomfortable too.”

He reaches over the table, taking your hands in his. “Hey, it’s alright. I wasn’t uncomfortable, just took me by surprise, is all.” He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “If he comes back over and makes eyes at you, I’ll put him in his place, okay?”

You chuckle, nodding at him. Hopefully, the waiter would get caught up with other customers or would learn some manners so that he didn’t say anything, but either way, you knew you’d be okay.

“So, anyways, how can you be so bad at driving the yacht? It’s just a boat.” Harry asks, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

“It’s really not that hard to be bad at it.” You defend. “I know plenty of people that can’t drive a boat.”

“Have they ever tried?” His eyebrows raise.

“No.” You mumble, flicking your eyes from his gaze.

“Well that explains that.” He pauses until you meet his gaze again. “No, but seriously, it’s way easier to drive than a car.”

You clear your throat. “I’m not that good at that either, H.” 

“Really?” He looks embarrassed, sorry to have pushed you, like he was worried that he had gone too far. 

You really didn’t mind, though, it’s not something you’re ashamed of, you just don’t really like driving. “Really. Ever noticed how I don’t drive anywhere?”

His eyes widen in realization. “Yeah, actually. If nobody else is available, I used to drive you places.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s because I suck at driving.” You say, looking down at your hands, which you realize are still being held by his. “I just feel more comfortable with other people driving me around.”

You feel him squeeze your hands again, the rings biting into your skin slightly. “I thought maybe you just didn’t have a car.”

Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. You flash him a dirty look and go to pull your hands from his. Before you can, though, he squeezes tighter, making you stop for a moment.

“Not like that! It’s just that everything you do is in close proximity to your house.” Your hateful look subsides. You had seemed to forget for a moment that you weren’t enemies anymore. You were… friends? “There’s not really a need for you to have a car unless you were to drive somewhere far away, but usually that’s only for work and you fly.” He continues.

“Well, yeah, that’s true. But I do have a car, I just prefer not to drive it myself.” He nods his head, seeming to understand enough to let it slide.

You fall into a comfortable silence, his hands still clutching yours. You let your eyes scan over his face before wandering back to his seafoam green eyes. God, his eyes are beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful, honestly.

You’re broken out of your examination of him by the waiter coming back with your food and beverage choices. He sits Harry’s down first, and then places yours down. He doesn’t look at Harry again, just looking at you as he asks if there’s anything else that’s needed. You see his eyes trail downwards, and you give Harry’s hand a squeeze, causing him to clear his throat at the manager.

“Excuse me, sir?” This catches the waiter’s attention, making him turn back to Harry. “Could you maybe not eye fuck my girlfriend right in front of me?”

The waiter balks at him, and then tries to deny it. “I- I wasn’t!”

“Let’s not lie about it, you definitely were.” His voice is raspy and it makes your heart rate pick up. “And you were making her uncomfortable, so how about you explain to one of your coworkers why you need to switch them tables, yeah?”

The waiter just nods, walking away without so much as a glance back.

“Thank you, H.” He doesn’t reply, just squeezes your hands to let you know you’re alright. He lets go to eat, but you can see the way that his jaw is clenched.

“Hey, what’s up, you’re tense.” You try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at you.

“I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He mumbles. 

You make the split second decision to walk over to his side of the booth and slide in next to him. He immediately makes room for you, lifting up his arm so you can crawl into his side.

“I’m alright, you know. I just don’t like being looked at like an object.” You whisper into his side.

“I know, love. I know you’re alright, you’re strong.” He squeezes you closer to him and you feel a smile come to your face. “And I don’t like it either. I’ll punch him next time he looks at you like that.”

You reach up and run your hand through his hair, smiling at him. He leans into your touch, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. He’s got you pulled into his side, one of your thighs is slung over his, and your faces are what seems to be only a few millimeters apart.

Every part of you wants to close the difference, to press your lips to his. Every fiber of your being wants to know what his lips feel like, wants to know how they taste. You don’t lean in, though, not wanting to ruin what the two of you have going on.

You look back down, pulling your food over to you and finishing your meal.

After the check is paid, he drives you home, the only sounds in the car being the radio and the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. 

*

The next day flows by smoothly, everyone just chilling on the yacht and going for a swim.

When you get back to the house that night, though, Sam and Lexi come to your room to tell you that they’ll be leaving early, babbling on about some really good sale on jeans or something. They ask if you want to go with them but you politely decline, having absolutely no interest in jeans that, even when on sale, probably cost thousands of dollars.

They bid you a goodnight and let you know that they’ll be leaving early in the morning, most likely before you get up.

You wish them a safe trip and then roll over in bed, thinking about what this would mean. It would just be you and Harry for a few days. Would you spend a bunch of time together? Would you even talk that much? 

You don’t know how to spend that much alone time with Harry, mostly because you’ve only been close enough to spend any amount of time with him for a few days.

You’re anxious, probably more than you have been in a while. You can feel your hands sweating and your breath getting caught in your throat.

Suddenly, a knock comes at your door and you immediately yell, “Come in!”

You expect it to be Lexi or Sam, but it’s Harry.

“Hey, don't you mind if I hang with you?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m kinda bored, plus the other night I saw that mini puzzle you brought so I was thinking maybe we could do that?”

You smile at his observational skills. “Yeah, it’s no problem. Come on, I’ll get the puzzle.”

You walk over to the carry on that you had packed and grabbed the puzzle. It’s only a hundred pieces, but each one is so small and oddly shaped that you had never been able to get the placement right. You had figured you’d try to do so on this trip, but you hadn’t seemed to have the time.

You trudge back over to the bed, sitting down a piece of cardboard that you had found in a storage closet when exploring the closet a few days prior, and spread out the pieces.

You immediately get to work, him doing the same. Every time he would reach to grab a piece, his rings clack together, and you can’t help but gaze at them. You love the way that the rings look on him.

He looks over at you, catching you staring at his hands. He chuckles, before hopping off the bed, seeming to remember something.

“I’ll be right back.” He promises, not waiting for your response before coming back with one hand behind his back.

“Hold out your hand.” He demands, and you do so, holding out your right hand. “No, no, palm side down.” You flip your hand over and then he slides a ring onto your right hand. 

After it’s placed on your hand, you look down, realizing that it’s a replica of his rose ring, but this one actually fits you, which means that he would have to have bought it specifically for you.

You can feel your chest tightening and your eyes begin to get a little blurry. His gesture is so cute and all you want to do is wrap him up in your arms.

“H, when did you even get this?” You say, gesturing to the ring.

“The other day after everyone went to bed, I drove to London and got it.” He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I saw you looking at it the other day, figured I’d get one that would fit you so that we could match.”

“Thank you, H. That’s so sweet of you.” You wrap your arms around him, and without thinking, you crawl into his lap, straddling him. “How do you even think of things like this?”

He doesn’t say anything about the way that you're sitting, just wraps his arms around your back and pulls you impossibly closer.

“When I’m not pretending to hate people, I’m actually pretty smart.” he chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of the action throughout your body.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Styles.” You mumble into his neck. “You’re still an idiot.”

“Hey!” He whines, pushing you off of him only to tackle you into the mattress, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

Subconsciously, you raise your hand up, digging into his hair and beginning to play with it. Neither of you say anything, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, you start to feel Harry getting heavier and heavier, his breathing getting more even. 

You try to stay in that position, loving the feeling of him wrapped up on you, but he’s a lot bigger than you and all the muscle he’s put on makes him a lot heavier than you can handle, the weight being too much on your chest and making you feel like you can’t breathe.

You roll him off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible so that you don’t wake him up, but you fail epicly. The second that you’ve got him completely off of you, he grabs your waist, pulling you over to lay on him like he was on you moments prior. Your legs are tucked between his, your face pressed into his neck. His warmth is radiating into your skin and his scent is swirling around you.

“Night, love.” He mumbles, angling his face down to kiss the top of your head.

“Night, H.” You murmur back, pulling the blanket over the two of you.

You focus on the way that his chest feels rising and falling underneath yours. You can feel his heartbeat, the way that it seems to be slightly faster than usual. You don’t think too much of it, though, he’s probably just hot.

Slowly, your thoughts begin to slow down, the prospect of a good night’s sleep pulling you further and further under until you’re dreaming about Harry.

*

When you wake up the next morning, you’re sweating. At first, you don’t think much of it, you were sandwiched between Harry and a wool blanket, after all. But then you realize that there’s something off with the way that Harry feels.

He’s radiating more heat than he normally does, which is already more than most people do.

You’re worried that he could be sick, so you scurry to the bathroom to find the thermometer that you saw when you first started staying in the house.

You make quick work of cleaning it off with an alcohol wipe, not wanting to risk him getting anything worse than he possibly already could have.

You shake him awake, ignoring his groans of protest, and make him put the thermometer under his tongue. You press the button and wait for it to beep, signifying that it’s done. 

You feel like you’re going to be sick when you look at the digital number that’s being presented to you. 102 degrees. That’s not ideal. 

“Hospital, H. Now.” You demand, not giving any room to argue on this. There’s no way that you’re going to let him lay in bed with a fever when you don’t even know what’s causing it. Maybe some people would, but you refuse. There are countless reasons why he could have this high of a fever, and each of them had different recommended treatments. You weren’t going to risk it and treat him for the wrong thing, only to make something worse.

He grumbles a “no” and you shake your head. Of course he would fight you on this.

“I’m not risking your life, H. Get the fuck up.” You wait for a moment, watching him shake his head no again. Once you know he won’t get up, you wrap your forearms underneath his arms and lift, dragging his lanky figure out of bed. 

Once he’s completely off the bed and standing next to you, you lift his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders so that you can support his weight. You grunt from the added stress on your shoulders.

You begin to make your way out to the car, making sure to stop on the way out the door to grab the keys from the hook and a water bottle from the fridge for him.

You unlock his car and all but shove him into the passenger seat, leaning across him and buckling his seatbelt for him.

Once that’s completed, you rush around the car and slip into the driver’s side, buckling your own seatbelt before inserting the key in the ignition and turning the car on.

“You hate driving, you can’t get me there.” He tries to argue, and you just laugh.

“You couldn’t drive even if you wanted to. Plus, I can get you there. I’ll be fine.” There’s no way that you were going to chicken out of this. Sure, you hated driving, but you hated the idea of something happening to him even more.

“No, y/n, it’s fine, if you don’t like driving you shouldn’t have to drive me.” The fact that he’s thinking of you right now, of all times, makes your heart rate quicken. How was he always so sweet? “I’ll be alright. I’ll just sweat it out.”

“No, Harry, you will not just sweat it out.” You say, rubbing a hand over your face. “You could die if it gets too much worse. There could be something seriously wrong. And you’re probably like this because you went out in the rain looking for me.” Sure, it’s been a few days, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t from that. The symptoms could have just not been showing up until now. “And trust me when I say that I am most definitely not letting you die.” You give him a look when he starts to protest again.

The drive to the hospital is shaky. There’s a few times where you think you’re going to freak out, but each time, Harry reaches his hand over and squeezes your knee in reassurance and you instantly feel your breathing even out again. 

Thankfully, you make it there safely. Throughout the trip he had drank the entire water bottle and he seemed to be more alert than he was when you woke him up. You still come over to his side of the car and help him hobble into the hospital, though, not wanting him to accidentally fall and break anything.

You sit him down in one of the chairs and walk to the counter to check him in. You come back with the paperwork that the lady handed you, and you’re surprised to know that you know the majority of the answers. You only have to pester him when you get to the section about his family’s medical history and when you need him to sign the paperwork.

You quickly go back to the counter to give her the pages back. She smiles and assures you that she’ll get everything entered and that the doctor will be right with him.

The doctor comes out and calls his name. He takes one glance in her direction and then grabs your hand. “Y/N, can you come back with me?” He gives you the best puppy dog eyes that he can manage.

You chuckle, agreeing immediately. How could you ever say no to that face?

Once you get to the room that the doctor led you too, she begins to ask a few questions. After answering them, she takes Harry’s temperature, the thermometer that she uses reading the same as the one at the house did. She decided to do a few tests, some of which nearly make Harry throw up, and then comes back with the results a little while later.

“It seems like he has the flu. Nothing too serious as of right now, though. I’ll give you a prescription to get filled for him since it doesn’t seem like he’ll be doing much for himself until his fever goes down, at least.

You smile, thanking her for letting you know, and gather Harry and the prescription paper. On the way back to the house, you drop off the prescription and wait for it to be filled. 

“Can I go in and get some candy?” He asks as you get out of the car to go pick up the medicine.

“No, H,” You see him pout at you, so you quickly continue, “but I can go in and get it for you.”

The smile that he gives you makes your world slow. All you want to do for the remainder of time is just make him smile and bask in the light that it gives off. But you can’t focus on that right now, you have to go in and get his candy and his medicine and then get him back home.

He tells you what he wants, whining about how it’s his absolute favorite candy. You go buy it for him, deciding to get a few of them so that he’ll have some for later, hopefully for when after he feels better. You also get him another water bottle, knowing that he’ll have to take his medicine once you get back to the car.

You quickly go to the counter, giving them his information and then walking back out to the car. 

After paying for everything, you rush back to the car and give him his medicine. After he’s taken it, he begins to munch on his candy as you drive the both of you back to the rental.

Once you reach the rental, the ride back goes much smoother than the one there, you take him back to your room and lay him on the bed.

“I can’t sleep in here.” You frown, wondering why he’s had the sudden change of heart. “You’ll get the flu too.”

You roll your eyes at him. “I’ve slept in the same bed as you already.” You sit on the bed next to him, reaching up and combing your hair through the sweaty tendrils. “I literally woke up on top of you, if I’m going to get it, I’ll get it whether you sleep in here tonight or not.”

He grumbles, but ultimately doesn’t put up that big of a fight, knowing that if he doesn, he’ll lose. 

“Do you wanna take a shower?” You mumble, still letting your digits card through his hair.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He tries to laugh but it comes out more as a cough and you can’t help but want to wrap him up in your arms and take any and all of the pain that he could be feeling away.

“No, you actually smell really good for being sick, but you have a lot of dried sweat on you from your fever.” You smile down at him, seeing him give you a lazy, lopsided grin in return.

“Can I take a bath?” He asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being able to sit down but still get the sweat off of him.

“Yeah, that’ll work, bubs.” You don’t even think about the pet name until it slips out of your mouth. You want to take it back, scared that he’ll hate it.

All your worries, along with any trace of regret, washes away when you see his smile grow, the dimples popping deep into his cheeks.

“If I put bubbles in the water so that you can’t see anything, will you wash my hair?” He questions, and there’s no way that you’re going to say no to him. And you realize that it’s not just because he’s sick. It’s because it’s just so easy to give into him, to want to give him everything that he asks for, just about no matter what it is.

You’re not going to let him know just how easily that you want to agree with him, though, so you drag it out just a little longer. :You’re really milking this for all it’s worth aren’t you?”

“I mean, I guess. I don’t know.” He sighs, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. You stay quiet, waiting for him to find the ones that he’s searching for. “I just really like it when you play with my hair, and I’m assuming that it’ll feel even better if you were to wash my hair.” His cheeks flush crimson. “Just really like having your hands in my hair, I guess.”

You feel like you’re going to explode with the overflow of emotions that you’re currently experiencing, so you decide not to drag it out any more than you already have, knowing that you’ll regret it if you do. “Fine, yeah, H. I’ll wash your hair for you.”

The way that his eyes light up makes it all the more worth it. You’d do anything to see him have that look on his face more often. You used to see a lot more of that, before things started happening that scared him. You found yourself wishing, more often than not, that he had never had someone find his address, and that he had never had people hold him at knife point. He had been slightly less open after that, kind of like he didn’t trust that many people anymore. And, even though you hadn’t admitted it since you were pretending to hate everything about him, you had missed the way that his eyes would sparkle at the simplest things, and how he would be the first to jump at the idea of a night out.

“Thank you!” He lunges up from his spot on the bed to hug you, wrapping you in his arms and not letting go for a moment.

After letting him keep you in his embrace for what you deem is long enough, you push him towards the bathroom.

“Go get the bath ready, I’ll go get you some clothes.” You nudge him, but then realize something. Before you walk out, you take his hands in yours, sliding his rings off this nimble fingers one by one until they’re all in your palms. “I’ll take these to your room and put them up, alright?”

“Yeah, do you still have yours?” You nod, pointing to the rose ring on the dresser, sitting right next to his Cartier ring on the chain. He smiles, then waddles into the bathroom.

You make your way to his room and rifle through his suitcase, trying to find something that isn’t another pair of sweatpants or swimming trunks. You want him to be comfortable but not too hot, and you don’t know if he’d be comfortable in just boxers. 

You end up finding a pair of shorts at the very bottom. You grab those and some boxers, along with a hoodie of his for yourself, before heading back to your room.

You don’t hear the water running when you enter/ “Are you ready, H?” 

“Yeah, you’re good!” You slip on the hoodie before entering the bathroom. You place his clothes on the counter, out of the way from everything, and come sit on the floor next to the tub. 

The water and the bubbles come up to the bottom of his butterfly tattoo. You trace it with your eyes, and before you can even think about what in the world you’re doing, your hand is reaching out to trace it. You stop yourself halfway there and look up at him, your cheeks aflame.

“Go ahead.” He urges. “You can touch.”

You let your hand travel the distance to his abdomen. You begin to trace the lines of the butterfly. The wings, the patterns, the antenna. You can feel the muscles in his stomach clench as you venture towards the bottom of the wings, so you travel back upwards with your hand. 

After you finish tracing what seems to be every line in the tattoo, you look up at him, slowly moving your hand north, but stopping slightly above the butterfly. Once he gives his nod of approval, you move up to the swallows, loving how they look on him. 

Before you’re even done with those, he nods again, urging you to continue. So, you do just that, tracing the lettering on his body and moving down his arm to run over the ship, the rose, the hands. You trace everything that you can, ending at the little cross tattooed on his hand. 

“You missed a few.” He rasps, and you quirk your brow in confusion. The only ones that you know of that could have been missed are the ones submerged under the water. 

He doesn’t say anything, just lifts up his arm to show you the tattoos. You immediately reach back out, tracing over the bird cage and the masks, along with the lettering there. You can feel his body shiver at your touch, and you can’t help but mimic the action. The feeling of his skin under your own is electrifying.

“They’re all so beautiful, H.” You whisper, not completely trusting your voice yet.

“Thank you.” His voice isn’t much higher than yours.

You shake your head, trying to rid your head of the thoughts of him. You clear your throat and reach for the shampoo bottle. You pour a generous amount into your hand and begin to lather it into his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingers as you do so.

He lets out a sound that’s a mix between a pleased sigh and a moan and you almost choke on the air that you’re filling your lungs with.

“Feels so good.” He mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut. You can’t help but smile at him, the way that he looks so peaceful, so relaxed and utterly himself that all you can do is grin at him.

“Does it?” You inquire, knowing for a fact that it does, just wanting to keep the conversation going for a little longer. There’s something about the raspiness in his voice that makes you never want to stop hearing it.

“Yeah, feels better than just about anything else I’ve ever experienced.” This time, he lets out a groan that’s so close to a growl that you have to take a moment to breathe.

“I’m glad.” You all but squeak.

After you rinse his hair out and begin to apply the conditioner to his hair, he looks up at you. “Hey, mind if I tell you something?”

“Yeah, go ahead, bubs. You can tell me anything.”

He seems to mull it over in his head for a moment and then speaks up again. “Promise not to get weird or anything?”

You’re beginning to get slightly worried. Part of you is scared that he’s going to tell you that he killed someone and now he needs help hiding the body or something extreme like that. Although, if he asked, you definitely would help him, that’s just the kind of friend that you are. “Yeah, I promise.”

He looks up at you through his lashes, making sure that he’s holding eye contact with you. “I kinda, um, like you.”

You smile, he’s so dramatic for no reason. “I kinda like you, too. You’re not as awful as I thought you were.”

“Thank you, but that’s not really what I meant by that.” He has a slight grimace on his face, like he’s scared that what comes out of his mouth next will hurt him in some way.

“What did you mean then?” He still seems hesitant, scared even. “You can tell me, bubs. I don’t bite.”

He takes a deep breath, settling himself. “I meant, I have feelings. For you.” You feel like your heart stops. All the breath is sucked from your lungs. Harry Styles? Likes you? “I don’t know for sure when they turned from ‘oh, she’s pretty and seems sweet’ to ‘I Wish that she didn’t hate me so maybe I’d have a chance’, but they did.” You feel him reach out and take your hand in yours, and all the emotions running through your body threaten to spill out. “And, trust me, I know that I treated you like shit and I don’t deserve you or your love but I just had to tell you.”

“Are you telling me that Harry Styles has a crush on me?” You ask, slightly chuckling.

“If that’s what you wanna call it, yeah.” He says, cheeks getting more and more red by the second.

You shake your head, not wanting to get too excited. He had a fever. Fevers can cause confusion and can make people think things that they don’t mean. “You don’t mean that. You have a fever, you'll feel different when you wake up in the morning.”

His face falls, and you immediately want to take back what you said. “I promise you that I won’t.”

“How do you know that?” You don’t think you could just forget the words that he’s saying to you.

“Because I didn’t just start feeling this way.” Relief surges through your body, and you can feel the tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Really?” You really won’t be able to handle it if this is all a side effect of the fever.

“Really.” He assures, brushing his thumb in soothing circles on your hand.

“Well, lucky for you, I happen to understand why you acted like you did and I think that you deserve me. I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.” You had never thought that Harry would like you as any more than a friend, even before you actually met. All your friends had told you that you guys would be great together, you just had to meet him. You always had your doubts, though.

He scoffs, “Yeah, alright, we can pretend that’s true. You’re literally perfect.”

Your heart expands at his words, how does he always seem to know exactly what to say? “So are you, H. I’ve seen it for a long time, just didn’t wanna be the girl that loved you even though you hated me.”

HIs eyes widen and a smile covers his face. “You love me?”

“I’m getting there.” You admit.

“Come here.” He gestures for you to get closer.

You scramble towards him, getting as close as possible without physically climbing into the tub.

He leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, letting his lips ghost over yours for a moment before you pull back.

“Let’s rinse out your hair and then finish up and I’ll kiss you for real, alright?” There’s no way that you’ll be able to kiss him the way that you want to while he’s still sitting in the bathtub.

He nods and lets you continue. You rinse the conditioner out of his hair, then get up to leave the bathroom so that he can get dressed. Before you can walk away though, he grabs your hand and pulls you back. He makes a kissy face and you lean down to peck his lips, knowing that he’ll just pout until you give in.

Moments after you exit the bathroom, he walks out looking completely perfect. You can see the tiger tattoo on his thigh, and you make the mental note to kiss over it later.

“Kissy?” He asks, coming towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You sling your arms around his neck, slotting your hands into your hair. You nod, leaning in to kiss him, for real this time.

He wastes no time in kissing you back, this one holding a lot more passion than you ever thought a kiss could hold.

Your lips are molding with his, fitting together like they’re the missing piece that you needed to complete your puzzle.

His tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking permission, which you gladly give, opening your mouth and letting his tongue explore.

You pull away after a moment to catch your breath. Looking up at him, you see everything that you had been missing. “Promise me this doesn’t change when we go back to our real lives.”

He brings his hand up, cupping your cheek. You lean into your touch. “I promise you that, as long as you’ll have me,” he kisses your forehead,  “I’ll always be right here to tell you that you’re beautiful,” your temples, “that you’re all I can think about.” your cheeks. “And, as long as you’ll let me, I’ll kiss you over and over again.” He finally lets his lips glide over yours again.

After he pulls away, you breathe, “Good, because I don;t think I’d be able to go back to normal after that.”

“Neither could I.” He assures you. “Come on, love, let’s go lay down.”

With that, you crawl into bed next to Harry, cuddling into his side. After a moment, he decides you're not close enough, pulling you in until your head is on his chest and your leg is thrown over his thighs. 

You smile in content as he kisses your forehead. Who would have thought that you’d be in this place, with him? Never in a million years could you have dreamed this up for yourself. And honestly, if someone had told you a mere weeks ago that you would be kissing Harry and falling asleep next to him, you would have laughed in their face, probably even asked them if they had gone mental.

But now, here you were, laying cuddled up with the man that makes your entire world seem to light up, and you couldn’t be happier. It had been a rocky road getting here, but you would go through that day on the yacht a million times as long as you ended up back here, held tightly in his arms.

Listening to the beat of his heart, to the way that his breaths are evening out die to the comfort that having you near him brings, you drift off to sleep

*

You’re being shaken awake much too earlier, and you turn to gripe at whoever chose to wake you up. But then you realize that it’s Harry, and your face immediately softens.

“Hey, you.” He says, pecking your nose.

“Hey, why are we up so early?” You grumble.

He chuckles. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” You audibly groan, probably a lot more dramatic than it has to be. “Come on, it’s time to get out stuff together. Gotta go back to the real world.”

You sigh, not wanting to go, but you know that you have to, so you stumble out of bed and get all your stuff together. 

You scramble to ensure that everything’s ready, even making sure that you clasp your new necklace on your neck and slide the new ring on your finger.

Once you zip up your bag and stand up, wracking your brain to make sure that everything is in order, Harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You immediately lean into his embrace.

“You look really fucking cute in my clothes.” He mumbles, pressing his face into your hair.

“Why thank you, never got your tour hoodie, thought I’d see how it looked.” You smirk, knowing that you had, in fact, received a tour hoodie, you just hadn’t worn it yet.

He says nothing about that, though, just groaning, “It looks fantastic.” before pushing away from your body.

“Are you ready?” He asks, looking over all the packed bags, and then over to you. HIs eyes stop at the ring around your neck, heart swelling in pride that you’re wearing his ring.

“Yeah, don’t wanna go, but I know I have to. I’ve gotta go back to work.” You groan.

“I meant what I said last night, you know?” He blurts, and you can’t help but feel relieved. He had been acting like he meant it, but the verbal confirmation made you feel even better.

“Which part?” You say, playing coy.

“All of it.” He promises. “Every single word.”

You hum in content, walking back into his arms and pressing into his chest. “I mean what I said too.”

You pull away after a moment, walking to pack your stuff into the car.

After dropping off the rental car and going through the motions of getting ready and boarding the plane, you finally sit down, right next to Harry. This time, though, you aren’t dreading the plane ride.

*

After the plane lands, Harry throws you his keys, telling you that Sam and Lexi were supposed to have dropped the car off with his extra set an hour prior. He assures you that he’ll get your luggage.

“I can tell you’re tired, sweets, go on to the car, okay?” You nod in agreement before heading out to the parking lot to find his car.

On the ride back to your apartment, you doze off in the passenger seat, his hand on your knee and fingers tracing random patterns lulling you to sleep.

He wakes you up by kissing all over your face, and you must admit that it’s probably the best way for someone to wake you up. Well, not just anyone, just him.

He gets your bags from the trunk, walking you to the door. As you’re about to go inside, he kisses your cheek, letting his mouth linger there for a moment. “Can I come over later? Gotta put up my stuff and check the mail, but I wanna see you again.”

You smile. You’d like to see him again, too. “Yeah, sure. Just come over whenever.” 

He leans down and gives you a quick peck on the corner of your mouth before heading home.

In the time that you’re alone, you put everything away that you ended up not wearing and throw the dirty clothes in the wash.

As you’re fixing yourself dinner (which is arguably enough for two, but that’s just a coincidence...maybe), you hear a knock on your door. 

You rush over, checking through the hole to make sure that it’s Harry. When you open the door, he immediately sweeps you up into a hug. “God, I missed you.”

“You were gone for less that three hours, H.” You breathe.

“I know, but I still missed you.” He pulls back from you slightly, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. “Am I not allowed to miss my girl?”

Your heart skips a beat. “Your girl?”

“Um, fuck, I- you don’t have to- don’t feel pressured.” You cut him off by placing your lips on his.

“Calm down, H.” You urge.

“It’s just, I don’t know, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks, eyes looking down between the two of you at his shoes. 

“God, yes.” You clear your throat, realizing how desperate you probably sounded. “I mean, yeah. But I’m not gonna be able to be like all your other girlfriends were.”

“What do you mean by that?” He wonders.

“I can’t just drop everything and come with you while you’re on tour.” You give him an apologetic look. You know how much he loves having his girl with him while he’s performing. “I can’t go on excessive vacations with you, and by excessive I mean for months at a time. I don’t get paid to stand around and look pretty like the rest of them did.”

“I don’t want you to be like the rest of them were. I want you to be you.” He says, stroking your cheek with his hand. “Plus, I mean, you could technically come on tour with me as part of my crew if you wanted.” He suggests. “Be one of the photographers, or help me get everything ready. That could be your new job if you were interested.”

“Harry, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You argue. “That’s just another person that’ll have to be paid. I didn’t do anything to get those positions anyway.” You know that all of the people on his crew were exceptionally talented, and that just wasn’t you.

“You let me see how wonderful you are at photography, that’s what you did.” You’re surprised that he remembers that. You had only shown him your work once. And it was the only time when the two of you were enemies that he didn’t have anything rude to say.

“H…” You’re still not sure about the idea. Of course, it would be fun, but you really have no business being there.

“Please? I don’t think I can go months on end without seeing you.” He whines. “I could barely go three hours.”

“Fine.” You give in. “But only if I get to stand in the audience and watch the show at least a couple times.” You had always wanted to see one of his shows from the audience, to see how well he interacted with everyone.

“Deal.” He says without hesitation.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” You concede. He does a mini celebration, shimmying his body slightly.

“You wanna go tell our friends after dinner, baby?” You suggest.

“Baby? I like it.” He says, blushing because of the pet name.

“I mean, you are my boyfriend now.” You reason, but also just liking the way that it sounds coming out of your mouth.

“That’s true, love. And yeah, let’s go tell our friends after dinner.” He leads you to the kitchen, fixing the both of you a plate and sitting down with you to eat.

*

After you clean up from dinner, you head out to the bar that your friends told you to meet them at.

You walk into the bar hand in hand with Harry. He sits in the booth first, dragging you in after him. 

“Do you wanna tell them?” You lean in and whisper into Harry’s ear.

He just nods, turning to Lexi and Sam. “Um, guys, we’re kinda, um, dating.” 

“Okay.” Sam says. Lexi nods, looking completely unfazed.

“What?” How are they being so calm about this?

“We figured it would happen. The chemistry between the two of you is impeccable. You had more passion towards each other when being dickheads than either of you have for anything else. It was just a matter of time.” Lexi explains, as if it’s completely obvious.

How they knew it was going to happen, you have no clue. You couldn’t even see yourself ending up with him. But maybe it was because you didn’t have the outside perspective. 

*

A few months later, you’re on a tour bus to the first venue, and you can already feel the adrenaline running through your veins. 

The very first show, you watch from the audience, taking in the scene. Seeing how his fans react, how he works the audience.It was good to study the subject before photographing them. 

Also, though, getting to watch your man live his dream is pretty exhilarating. And getting to go along for the ride with him is even better.

*

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[a-pretty-nerd]

Self Indulgent Shigaraki Nonsense Part 5

Tomura Shigaraki x pregnant!reader

A/N: Oh wow part 5 and I'm still not done with this.

Warnings: Emotions? Cursing?

You tossed and turned in your sleep, groaning and moaning in frustration. Your joint ached, and fatigue plagued your body. You tried everything you could to get to sleep but nothing was working and on top of your aching body, the nearly fully developed fetus in you thought now was the perfect time for exercise.

Tomura laid beside you, having fallen asleep hours ago. But your movement and sounds of anguish gently woke him up. Groggy and a little frustrated he looked over his shoulder to see your upset form shift back and forth.

"Is it the baby?" He asked in a low, hoarse voice. You huffed.

"Everything hurts and they keep moving around and I'm exhausted but I can't fall asleep!" You cried. You felt silly crying like this to Tomura, you felt like a little kid throwing a tantrum. Weren't you supposed to be the mild mannered, mature and wise mother?

Tomura turned over to face you, his gloved hand reaching out and planting firmly on your enlarged belly. He gently ran circles around it, trying to sooth the mysterious being inside. He had grown used to this routine, grown used to the idea of you being pregnant. But the idea of being father and actually having a baby was still out of his reach. For now, he was content to have you tucked away and all to himself where he knew you would be safe.

"My fucking BONES hurt." You complained as you rubbed circles into your eyes. He chuckled at your declaration for a moment before wrenching himself from the bed and shuffling into the kitchen where you could hear him rustling about. You laid there and closed your eyes, trying to emulate the soothing sensation of rubbing circles across your belly. They clearly liked it better when Tomura did it. You didn't even know how they knew the difference.

"Here." Tomura entered the room with a hot cup of tea in hand. He sat it down on your bedside table as you struggled to sit up properly. You laid against the head board and slowly took the mug. "Careful. It's still hot." He noted, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Thank you."

"Mhm." He watched you blow and sip on the tea, running his gloved hand up and down your calf.

"This is new." You scoffed.

"What?"

"You taking care of me." You smiled.

"What are you talking about? I've taken care of you before. Remember Jaku?"

"Ugh, I don't want to." You cringed. A particularly rough battle had left you broken and beaten black and blue. If it wasn't for Tomura, you would have been dead. But that was before you knew he loved you. Before you knew you loved him. "You're right you have taken care of me. But not like this before." Your smiled made him blush.

"This is a different situation." He explained. You chuckled.

"I know." You finished your tea and he took it from you to put the mug in the kitchen sink. But before he left the room you called to him. "Hey...Tomura?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"Sure."

"No. Really. Thank you. For everything." He watched you for a moment, engraving that sweet smile of yours into his brain forever. Before nodding and walking back to the kitchen. You adjusted yourself, laying back down and watching him come back in and lay in bed. You watched him, your hand reaching up to gently scratch down his bare back. A comforting gesture he loves but will never out right ask for. It put him to sleep quick, and soon you followed him.

When you woke up the next morning, you found yourself alone in bed. You struggled to get up to use the bathroom and wash your face before waddling into the kitchen. A note had been placed over wads of cash on the kitchen counter. The note read:

I'm sorry there was an emergency and I had to leave early this morning. I left money on the counter for breakfast. Take it easy. I'll see you soon. I love you.

- Tomura

Money for breakfast? You looked down at the wads of 20 dollar bills and giggled. Tomura still had very little grasp when it came to money. He just never had to really worry about it. It's not that he wasn't good at budgeting or math, but, this was enough to pay the mortgage and groceries for the rest of the month. Some breakfast you'd be having. You took the cash and put it away where the rest of it went. You were to pay for everything in cash. The mortgage, the car payments, groceries, furniture, absolutely everything. As if that didn't make you look suspicious enough. But Tomura insisted on it because it wouldn't leave a paper trail to your name.

Your new name would have no debt no credit, nothing. It had to be perfect and unremarkable.

You fed, washed, and clothed yourself which took all morning now but finally you made up your mind to take a short walk to the local grocery store and do some shopping. Normal house wife shit, right?

So you waddled your fat ass out the door to take a leisurely stroll all the way to the super market. You looked up and watched grey clouds gently float above, bringing a cool breeze and the faint smell of rain in the air. You made it to the store before it started to sprinkle. The bright and fresh atmosphere of the store made you uneasy. Public spaces still made you feel out of place. Suspicious. Like you still had to hide.

You paused in the middle of an aisle, sudden movement stopping you dead in your tracks. The baby had been moving less, and the false contractions had started. Your midwife had taught you that this was normal, you still weren't due for a while longer, there was no need to worry. But they were a big pain in the ass.

You held your belly and took a deep breath. It soon passed and you went back to searching for your grocery list.

"First one?" A voice asked. You turned and found a young woman standing there pushing a stroller. She gave a friendly smile.

"Oh, yes."

"How exciting. I had a lot of false contractions with my first too. How far along are you?"

"I guess about, eight months. Give or take a week or two."

"You sure look it. I'm kim by the way, nice to meet you." She held out a hand and you shook it. Her bright smile and relaxed attitude bring comfort and warmth. You looked down to the stroller, an infant cradled towards Kim, and an absent-minded toddler glaring at the floor sat in the front. He angrily pouted at the ground, before his gaze slowly came up to you.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/-...." fuck! What was your new name again? You almost blew your cover. "Ota." You remembered. Thank God.

"Your the new family down the road aren't you?" Kim nodded in recognition.

"Yeah, yeah. How long have you lived here?" You tried to make conversation.

"Oh I've lived here all my life."

"Wow."

"Yeah my husband and I met in high school here and been together ever since. He travels for work now though, so,"

"My husband travels too." You told her. Shit. Was that the right thing to say? Could you really call Shigaraki your, husband? What would he think about that? He'd probably be irritated you even bothered to socialize at all.

"Oh really? What does he do?" You paused.

"Uh, he works closely with heroes." You croaked.

"Oh like management er' whatever?" She was so nonchalant.

"Yeah, yeah. Real boring stuff." You agreed. 'Er' whatever' what a great way to put it.

"Yeah mine's a lawyer for cities suffering from 'big hero blow-outs' they call em'. He works with cities about destruction of public property and what not. I don't really know the details or anything but hey, maybe our guys have crossed paths a couple times! What did you say his name was?" Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Uh, Ota. Ota Kurai." You lied.

"Kurai...huh..." Kim thought for a moment, taking in a deep breath and sighing. "Well, that doesn't ring any bells. How long have you been together." Was this something you were supposed to lie about?

"Five years now, I think." You pondered.

"You think?" She chuckled at you.

"Yeah, it's hard to remember sometimes. All of a sudden we went from friends to more. Its difficult to explain." She smiled.

"Yeah, I understand. Well, I better be off. The boys need a nap before lunch. It was lovely meeting you, Ota."

"Likewise!" You smiled back.

"See you around."

"See ya." And with you that you went on shopping, a successful venture. You were lucky you were able to purchase an umbrella in the store, it was really coming down now. You waddled along the sidewalk, making your way back to the stretch of suburbs you occupied. As you walked the final stretch to your home, the wind began to pick up. Violently wrenching the umbrella out of your hand and throwing it behind you. You turned, panicked and now vulnerable to the heavy rain. It came down fast and hard, the droplets almost painful on your skin.

You turned around to find your umbrella flying through the air, tumbling over to a distant figure. A young man, no, a teenager. The kid snapped to attention, jogging for the object from under his own umbrella and quickly making his way back to you. You tensed up, the weight of your groceries, the rain, your condition. Clearly you were in distress. You cursed yourself. You were once a feared villain. You fought the greatest heroes Japan had to offer and lived to tell the tale. You were an activist, pioneer, warrior, leader. You had the scars to prove it. And now look at you. A helpless, pregnant house wife.

"Here miss!" The boy called. You sniffed and reached for it as he handed it to you.

"Thanks!" You barked, trying to shuffled off without anymore talk.

"Let me help you with that!" He insisted, taking your groceries from you and shielding you from anymore rain. You were soaked by now. You couldn't argue, he insisted and you had to admit that the help was nice. He walked you home, standing and waiting at your house's gate as you took back your bags from him.

"Thank you for your help." You tried to be polite.

"Sure thing miss. No trouble. Are you sure you got it?"

"Yes. Thank you." You insisted, turning back to disappear into your home. Only to find the front door open. You let out a startled gasp. A familiar figure stood in the doorway, dark eyes glaring at the boy behind you. Your eyes shuffled back and forth between him and the boy. Shigaraki wore a painfully mediocre disguise. A face mask, and a black wig. From far away he easily blended into a crowd. He was always good at hiding himself in a strange way. He was an oddly good actor.

"Sara. You should be more careful." He barked your fake name in a fake tone. Like he was a concerned husband.

"Sorry Kurai, I didn't think the storm would get this bad." You chuckled in a panic. He approached you, averting his gaze from the boy. Hiding his face and taking the bags from you. You turned back to the boy who's eye shifted from Shigaraki then back to you. "Thank you for your help. Here." You shuffled around in your purse before handing him a few hundred yen.

"Oh no Mrs, really it's fine."

"No. I insist." You huffed with a smile.

"Thank you. My names Sato by the way, I live just down the road."

"Nice meeting you Sato." You smiled and closed the gate before waddling back inside. You closed the door behind you, panting as you recovered from your adventure.

You watched Tomura remove his disguise in a frustrated huff before putting the groceries away. You leaned against the wall after shuffling into the kitchen, leaving water to fall from you and pool on the wood floor. Soon he turned to look back at you.

"I thought there was an emergency."

"False alarm." He muttered.

"Are you mad at me?" You asked. He paused and gave a frustrated huff.

"...I told you not to get friendly with people. That puts you in danger." You scoffed. "You're soaking wet, you better shower off before you catch a cold."

"I didn't have a choice, okay? It's not like I sought out his help! He was just there, he insisted he help! And yknow what, I can't say I didn't need it. Because I'm incapable of doing anything apparently!" You shouted. Oh shit. He angered you. You could see it in his eyes. He hates it when you get angry, it makes him uneasy. "And I'm a walking beacon of chit chat too! Everyone wants to talk to the new pregnant lady. Last week, I had fend off like four old ladies from touching my belly. And the week before that, the clerk at the bookstore kept trying to sell me these weirdly religious parenting books. And- And today even! Today some other mom stopped me to talk about my false contractions at the store and I almost forgot our names and I- I-" You're crying now. He hates seeing you crying more than he hates seeing you angry. He slowly approached you, watching as you sniffled and sobbed and wipped away your tears.

"Come on, let's get you comfortable." He guided you to the bathroom to help bathe you in a warm bath to calm your nerves and ease your aching body. You shuffled out into the living room, the warmth of your pajamas easing your tense feelings.

"She wasn't that bad." You mumbled.

"Hm?"

"The other mom at the grocery store today. She was actually nice. She has two boys. She was really chill."

"Mh."

"I told her you worked in management with heroes and you travel a lot." You chuckled to yourself. "Her husband works as a lawyer for cities regarding damage from heroes. She said you might have crossed paths." Tomura pause and flashed a goofy smile.

"You never know. Maybe we have." He joked. You laughed for a moment before finishing your bath and getting changed.

"How come you came back?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well usually you stay away. But you've been here so long I figured you'd have left by now so you don't take any chances getting caught. Why'd you come back?" Tomura starred at your stomach and placed his gloved hand over it before looking up at you.

"I'm just finishing a few preparations. But I've made plans so that I'll be able to stay longer than I usually do." He didn't answer your question.

"Plans? Like what?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Don't tell me you put Dabi in charge." He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Toga? No!... Spinner!?"

"Y/N. Please." He begged.

"Sorry. But you never leave someone else in charge."

"Well now I have a reason. I'm...I'm taking a few months."

"What? But what about your work?"

"I'm not quiting. I'm still the true ruler. It's just a small...vacation. I can go back at any time if an emergency occurs. But for now, I'm staying here."

"You really miss me, don't you?" He pulled his hand away and rolled his eyes one more time before strolling away.

"Of course I miss you." He said it like it was a well known fact. "I miss you every second. I miss working with you. It's so frustrating without you. You understand, you got it. You always knew what needed to be done, what I was trying to do. Now it's like herding cats to get the simplest of tasks done sometimes. I mean you- you were always one step ahead. Half the time I didn't even need to ask you to do something you were already there. You were so smart and cunning and strong."

"And now I'm just a housewife..." He slowly turned to look at you. "I'm just the knocked up mistress you gotta hide."

"No. You know that's not what I meant."

"It's how you make me feel."

"Y/N..."

"I miss it too, y'know. Working with you, with everyone. I miss doing something that actually matters. I miss the planning, and the training, and the fighting. I miss it all. And now look at me. I couldn't even fucking walk home from the grocery store without needing to be rescued. It sucks, it really sucks. I know I chose this life. I know I chose...." Your hand hovered over you belly. "But I just...I just..." You're crying again.

Tomura places a hand on your back and hold you close and the other to stroke your hair in an attempt to calm you again. You clung to him, rocking the two of you back and forth.

"I know. I know." He whispered.

"I just wanted...wanted to be happy. Like how- normal people are happy." You cried.

"I know."

"And I am- I am happy I just... I miss working so much. And I miss seeing everyone and seeing you and fighting heroes and just...I even miss negotiations!" You sobbed. Tomura couldn't help but flash a smile.

"I know. I'm sorry." Your crying started to subside for a moment. Giving him the opportunity to plant a kiss on your cheek.

"Tomura?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you." He nodded and placed his hand on your belly once more.

"So you'll be here for it?"

"Yes I'll be here." You smiled.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. It's the bare minimum."

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

A Royal Love Story || K.NJ

Pairing : Kim Namjoon X Reader Genre : Fluff, a sprinkle of angst somewhere too Summary : Namjoon has often imagined being the prince in Cinderella, yet he never imagined that his version would have horses in it too. Wordcount: 9.3k [ A/N: Sorry for the shitty summary lol. Anyw, Enjoy!]

You're a royal staff member of your country and you're head of the royal horse care.

Namjoon is the second born prince of South Korea. 

You two aren't really meant to meet, but accidentally do when Namjoon and his family come over for the coronation of the princess of your country, Jisoo.

Unlike the rest of the royal staff members who come to greet him and his family, you aren't there.

Not because you're sick or anything, but simply because you forgot and were busy with the horses.

Namjoon meets you when he walks off into the fields of the palace, where you let the horses graze.

The first thing that catches his eye is how good the horses look.

They look a lot more healthy than the horses in his palace, he realizes.

"Hello sir, are you lost?" 

It’s the first thing you say to him.

It takes Namjoon a moment to realize that you're talking to him and a moment longer to realize that you don't know that he's a royal.

" Ah, no. I went to take a walk around the palace for a bit of fresh air." Is what he finally answers.

He sees you nod and turn back to your own business, which appears to be cleaning up horse tack in the small building near the grazing fields.

He looks at you for a moment before one of the horses in the back of the graze field spots you, and starts neighing.

At first he thinks that the horse is about to charge at him as the animal heads his way in a calm gallop.

But then he's left perplexed as he watches the horse stop near where you are standing, dragging one of his legs over the ground to get your attention.

You complain in your own native language to the horse after a moment as you come out from the tack building, tough Namjoon doesn't know what you say.

He watches in admiration as he sees how you pet the horse and how the horse reacts to you, unlike the horses in his palace, this horse looks a lot happier.

" That's a lively horse." Namjoon comments, trying to start a conversation.

" Yes, he certainly is. His name is Winter." You smile at him.

" I assume you work here?" He smiles.

You nod.

" Yes, I'm the head caretaker of the stables. I assume that you work for one of the royal families who have arrived?" 

Namjoon's breath stutters for a moment, you really didn't know.

" Yes, I'm one of the prince's advisors." He ends up telling you.

" Cool. What country are you from? I don't think I've seen you before." 

" I'm from Korea." 

He watches as you nod along to his words before your expression looks like something akeen to having forgotten something.

" That's what I forgot this morning! The royals from Korea were arriving today! Wait, that means it's the 24th! Excuse me sir, I have to go. There's a new delivery of horse tack waiting and the delivery guy can't get in without a signed paper of mine. Bye!"

And then you're sprinting away.

Namjoon blinks as he looks after your form, that was quite a meeting.

You obviously didn't recognize him, and he's happy with how relaxed you are because you think that he's also part of the staff.

He ends up going to the stables a lot more often in his time off.

He ends up learning a lot about you, and unintentionally about your horse too.

For instance, your horse is a picky horse, and only lets you ride him with little to no trouble.

The black and gray arabian horse is happy to be pet by everyone, but doesn't allow everyone in his stable and certainly not everyone on his back.

He also almost loses his sanity when he gets chased by one of the chickens of the stables and you laugh as he comes running to you while being chased by a chicken, yelling that it wants to kill him.

You laugh and pick the chicken up as she tries to run past you.

" What did you do wrong to Nugget?"

" You named it?" Is Namjoon's only response as he turns to you when he realizes the chicken is now just complaining in your arms.

You smile and nod.

He smiles back evilly.

" The name suits her, she should become a few chicken nuggets."

Namjoon's social skills with women were never really good, but this was particularly terrible, he realizes as he doesn't see you laugh at his joke.

Instead you look at him with a deadpanned expression before putting the chicken down and letting it resume it's hunt.

He does miss the tiny smile that grows on your face as Namjoon is out of sight.

The time after that when Namjoon goes to visit you, he's surprised that Chaeyoung is there too, Jisoo's younger sister.

The both of you are just smiling and talking like normal teenage girls.

You both look like typical horse girls right now while you're both brushing your own horses.

Chaeyoung spots Namjoon before he can turn away.

" Prince Namjoon? Are you looking for something?"

And you look surprised, while Namjoon starts feeling nervous.

" Ah, no. Ehm, I'm just walking by and-"

" Prince?"  You ask, obviously confused.

" Oh, right. Y/N, this is prince Kim Namjoon the second born prince from South Korea, Prince Namjoon, this is L/N Y/N. She's our head caretaker of the stables. He's one of the princes you've missed the arrival of." Chaeyoung whispers the last part to you.

" Wait- you're a prince? You told me you're the prince's advisor." You say, now very confused.

Chaeyoung gulps and starts to feel awkward, so she decides to let her horse out in the meadow to give you two space.

" Why did you lie?" You ask, you don't sound hurt, just confused.

Cause' why would he lie over something like that? It's something you're bound to find out.

" I was planning on telling you at some point, but I like the way you treat me. I don't want that to change. I feel like a normal 25 year old. I knew you didn't know who I was as soon as you spotted me that day, so I decided to just lie." Namjoon gulps, feeling like a little kid caught stealing candy.

You nod before turning your back to him, carrying on with brushing your horse.

" So, am I still allowed to call you Namjoon or do you rather have me call you your majesty?" You ask him, and he can feel the teasing edge in your voice.

He smiles and relaxes.

" So, are you going to the ball?" Namjoon asks you a few days later while the two of you are sitting in the stables at night.

You shake your head.

" No, I'm not invited." 

" Oh, and if I'd manage to get you in, would you come?" He asks hopefully.

" Probably not, sorry. I have nothing to wear to an occasion like that and that's really outside of my comfort zone." You smile a little embarrassed.

Namjoon nods, unaffected.

" And if I get you a dress? A real pretty one. And I'll stay by your side the whole night, would you then come?" He tries.

You chuckle and shake your head.

" Nope. Why are you so set on getting me there anyway?"

He bites his lip, pondering if he should tell you the truth or tell you that it's a suprise and that you could only know if you show up.

He decides to go with the truth.

" All royals are attending the first dance during the ball for the coronation. I wanted you to be my dance partner." 

He doesn't look at you while he's telling you, instead staring at the mare who's just eating hay.

You blush, touched by his answer.

" I'm sorry, and although that does sound nice. I'll just end up feeling uncomfortable at the ball anyway. But we can have your first dance of the night right here if you want?" You smile at him as you get up, holding out your hand.

Namjoon usually isn't a dancer, but he doesn't see why not, and so he takes it.

That night he really feels like a guy his age, as he dances the most random and awkward dance moves with you.

One thing was sure, you both suck at dancing.

And even tough th both of you did, the moment was still very precious for Namjoon, and though you're not aware of it, the moment is precious for you too.

The day of the ball is boring for Namjoon.

His dad, the king, tries convincing him into dancing with the Italian princess who will be present tonight, but Namjoon really doesn't want to.

He goes to visit you in the early afternoon, but you're very busy, because there will be even more people than there already were, so you were supposed to have all your chores done by the time the first guests arrive.

He decides that he'll look for you later.

The main part of the afternoon is spend with dance practice, and him trying not to step on his dance partner's toes. 

Which he does several times, but he doesn't really find it in himself to care, she was getting paid to put up with him after all.

By the end of dance practice, his instructor Hoseok is thinking about just breaking one of his legs and using that as excuse to not dance at all.

When Namjoon looks in the mirror that evening, he realizes that he's not really happy.

He's not depressed either, just not happy. 

He doesn't want to be put under all these social standards of looking good and acting good and just being perfect.

He takes a deep breath before entering the ballroom.

He ends up dancing with a random princess from China.

She is pretty, he admits. And nice too, but she's not...... You.

His breath stops for a moment when he realizes he's got a crush on you.

After the dance he excuses himself saying that he isn't feeling too well.

That's all a lie however, and he's really just going to you.

He hopes that you're still at the stables, but he's feeling disappointed when he sees all the lights turned off.

At first he thinks you're already off to bed, but then he hears hooves and he knows that you never leave the horses outside at night.

He goes to the meadow meant for riding and he's surprised to see you riding your horse without any tack.

He ends up watching you ride for a while.

Until the moment the moment is ruined and someone else approaches the meadow.

In the most chaotic way possible.

Yelling while sipping wine and barely walking on his two legs.

Namjoon feels his heart stop for a moment as Winter raises his front hooves in the air, leaning heavily on his behind legs, the horse spooked by this new stranger

He calms down when Winter's front hooves touch the ground again, and you're still seated.

" Prince James, why are you here instead of enjoying the party?" You ask, not dismounting your horse.

" Realized the pretty girl wasn't there. Decides to come look for her. Aren't I cute?~" James, one of the two princes of England, must know you to talk to you like that.

Namjoon doesn't like it.

You cannot disrespect a woman like that, that's just, wrong.

" No, you're disgusting, honestly. Please go back to the ball." You ask him, and Namjoon sees that look in your eyes and knows the meaning, you're afraid of the prince.

" I don't think I want to-"

He spots a rope halter lying on one of the fences and decides to try and help you out.

" Hello, fancy seeing you here. I assume that there are no troubles?" Namjoon rolls in smoothly, wordlessly handing you the halter.

You seem relieved at his arrival and slip off your horse, gently putting the halter on Winter.

James seems a little less pleased with Namjoon's arrival.

He mumbles out an excuse before leaving, almost falling in the bushes as he walks off.

" I thought you went to the ball?" You asked once James was out of sight.

Namjoon shrugged with a dimpled smile.

" I was, but it was boring there. Decided to come here instead." 

You smiled at his answer.

The both of you went to lead Winter back in his box and walked a little bit around the stables, just talking.

" You know, it seemed as if you knew James. Have you met him before?" He asked at some point.

You shrugged and nodded.

" Sort of. My parents used to work for his stables until I was born, the court here was impressed by how good the horses look and promised my parents a finer stay on the royal grounds, they agreed to go here instead." 

" So, you're born in England?" Namjoon asked.

" Yeah. And I used to be friends with James, but he became too spoilt." You answered.

Namjoon nodded in understanding, he knew more royals like that.

" So, are you coming to the coronation?" Namjoon asked.

You nodded with a smile.

" Of course I am, everyone is invited." 

" That's great! Than I'll probably see you there tomorrow, right?" He asked with a shy smile.

You nodded.

" Definitely."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Namjoon cared about his outfit.

He wanted to look good in front of you.

He knew he had a bad taste when it came to clothing, but luckily his younger brother Taehyung didn't, and so he decided to bother him.

" Oh, what do I owe this pleasure too, your dear royal highness." Taehyung dramatically bowed as his older brother stood in front of his door opening. 

" Stop being so dramatic, drama queen. And I need your help with something." The elder rubbed his neck and looked at the ground, feeling shy.

" Let me guess, you found out that stable girl of yours is coming to the coronation and you want to look good?" Taehyung teased with a smile.

Namjoon looked at him in suprise.

" How do you know that?"

" Know what? Your little crush on her or the reason why you're here?" Taehyung smirked.

" Both."

" Well, I'm pretty sure everyone knows about your little crush because you spent more time with her than you ever did with me or anyone else, and I knew she was coming to the coronation too and my genius brain managed to get that all together and came to a conclusion." Taehyung said proudly.

" Wow, I didn't think your two brain cells could manage." Namjoon teased him.

Taehyung let out an offended 'hey' before getting to work and going to Namjoon's closet.

Because they weren't at home, they had a limited amount to choose from, but Taehyung was determined to let his brother look handsome.

He was supposed to look good after all, especially since he wanted to impress a woman.

Meanwhile you were in your little house trying to decide on what to wear.

You too wanted to look good, your crush was also coming to the coronation and last time you checked, you were kind of unofficial dating.

You two haven't spoken in a while as other royal families had stayed over and you were busy, but you hoped he didn't forget about you just yet. ( He also works in the palace, but he's a butler.)

For some reason, you also found yourself hoping to look good in front of Namjoon.

Whenever you thought of him, you felt shy and warm.

The gentleman has certainly charmed you for sure, but you did not know him well enough to consider him as a romantic interest.

You shook your head and focused back at the task at hand.

You decided to go with a simple red dress, with thin straps and off shoulder ruffles. 

It was innocent, but sexy.

The coronation was beautiful, and you couldn't believe how your best friend was now a real queen.

" Your majesty." You curtsy with a teasing smile as she approached you.

" Aish, stop it you." She smiled as you giggled in response and hugged.

" I can't believe you're a queen now." You told her proudly.

" I know, I can't either. I'm really afraid I'll mess something up." She said honestly.

" That's understandable. I don't know the feeling of standing in your shoes, but I'm sure you'll do great. Besides, even the greatest people make mistakes sometimes. They'll just have to learn to not stand still by it." You reassured her.

" Thank you for being my best friend." She smiled.

" Also, pretty butler at 5 o' clock." She winked before slipping away.

You bit your lip nervously and turned around, happy to see him after so long.

You smiled as you spotted him and approached him.

" Hey, long time no see, huh?" You greeted him.

" Yeah, hey. Certainly a long time yeah." He smiled awkwardly back.

Was something wrong?

" I assume it's been busy in the palace?" You try to start a conversation.

" Yeah, indeed. Not like you understand." He muttered the last part.

You raised your eyebrow at his attitude.

" Is something the matter?" You asked him.

" Yeah, no.- Look, I should apologize. I know we had something, but I have a girlfriend now. And I honestly don't want to deal with you." He huffed bluntly.

Ouch. Now that's a pang in your heart.

" Oh. I'll be go-"

" Hey baby, who's this?" A woman approached the two of you, most likely his girlfriend.

" Just a horse girl." He said it as if it's a bad thing.

You couldn't believe him right now, you felt the need to cry, but refused to cry in front of him.

" You're pathetic." You chuckled while shaking your head with glossy eyes before walking off.

" Spotted her yet?" Jin whispered in his younger brother's ear as he was still searching.

" Yah! Don't scare me like that." Namjoon huffed.

" Isn't that her?" Jin asked, ignoring his complaint, while pointing to a direction.

Namjoon followed his hyung's finger to see where he was pointing, and indeed there you were.

He watched as you chuckled while shaking your head before walking away from a couple.

You looked beautiful, he didn't know just how good you looked in a dress, and coincidentally, the dress was his style too.

" Y/N!" He called, hoping to catch up with you.

" Yah! No thank you for your hyung?" Jin complaint from behind him.

" Thanks hyung!" Namjoon yelled back over his shoulder.

Jin shook his head smiling, his brother was whipped.

" Y/N, wait up!" Namjoon yelled, hoping that you heard him, but you kept walking.

" Y/N?" He asked as he finally reached you, and put a hand on your shoulder.

You jumped at the contact and turned around, only now he noticed your glossy eyes.

" Oh, Namjoon. Hey. Sorry, my head was elsewhere." You  showed his a forced smile.

" Hey, are you okay? Your eyes are glossy." Namjoon asked.

" Sorry, it's not everyday you find out that your crush turns out to be a dick." You smile bitterly.

Namjoon didn't know how to feel when hearing that.

He was obviously not the person you were talking about, because he didn't ( and would never) break your heart, but now you were sad and he didn't like that. 

On the other side of it, he now knew that there would be a free spot in your heart, and he's willing to fight for it.

" Let's take a walk. I'm here for you." He said as he wiped a tear that fell from your eye, moved a lock of your hair behind your ear before eventually taking your hand and leading you through the market whitin the palace grounds.

You told him everything.

From the part where you started gaining feelings for him, to where you two kind of had something, to where he turned out to be a dick. 

And Namjoon listened patiently to all of it.

" Honestly, I just wish that I could leave this place but I have no guarantee that I will ever get a job half this good ever again." You groaned at the end of it.

An idea clicked in his mind.

" But what if you can?" He whispered, stopping with walking.

" What?" You asked confused.

" Come with me. We have stables too, and the horses back at home don't look as happy as they are here. So I'm sure my parents will be fine with it." He suggests.

" I don't know." You think.

" Just think it through for a few days, the pay won't be as great as here and instead of a house on the castle grounds, we've got an apartment building for staff, but if you really want to leave, just come with me. I know my stables need improvement anyway."  He smiles.

" I will." You smile back at him.

After another moment of walking peacefully in silence, the two of you resume walking in the market.

You spent the next few days without Namjoon, and end up thinking a lot about what he said.

By the end of the third day, you made up your mind.

You will go with him.

Not because you're not on good terms with your ex crush anymore, but because you want to.

You want to work somewhere different, somewhere with a challenge.

And you want to stay with Namjoon.

Going with him is easier than you had expected, sure you'll have to learn the language, but finding a replacement was pretty easy as you had all the routines written down for when you were on a day off. One of your most trusted employees will take over your work, while you'll take the same position in Korea.

Your goodbyes were a little teary, but you knew that this wasn't the last time when you'd see your friends.

Your ex-crush's face was incredibly amusing to see too.

According to Namjoon, you were just as important as he is, and so you ended up in a seat on his private jet to Korea.

Winter was on another plane, but will arrive as the same time as you. ( You had to admit that you were a little unhappy with having your horse on a plane, but the drive to Korea was much longer and would be likely less comfortable for the animal anyway.)

During the plane ride, you were sat beside Namjoon in a luxe plane chair, treated as if you were royalty yourself.

Namjoon was all too happy with how you easily got along with his parents and brothers.

Once you're there, you're instantly out exploring, for the first few hours with Namjoon, and a few hours without.

You note on how bad the horses look. They look a little underfed, and unhappy too.

You're happy to know that you'll be properly taking care of them now.

The next day is directly off to work.

Where you talk with the head caretaker who's apparently very inexperienced in taking care of horses.

You're surprised that he even managed to land a job here, this high up.

Namjoon doesn't manage to talk with you for the next two weeks, as you're both pretty busy.

He's busy with classes and formal stuff, while you're busy with creating a different diets for all horses in the stables.

Some horses had too little power food, and some too much.

You have to replace a lot of horse tack too, and some horses actually need some medical treatment.

For instance, the crown prince's horse, RJ, needed quite some medical assistance. ( Which is obviously scandalous, considering it's a royal horse.)

Some of the horses the King and Queen have for guests are already too old to be riding, yet they're very high spirited, and so you choose to send them off to a horse pension.

After the second week, Namjoon tries to visit you in some of his breaks and free time, but you're still very busy.

It's around another two weeks later when things have finally calmed down for you and you visit him in his office.

The stables aren't too far off, and so you manage to locate yourself in the castle.

Though you don't really know how to go from there.

After 20 minutes of walking around aimlessly, you turn around to find someone who's able to lead the way.

" Y/N dear? Is that you?" The voice of the queen sounds from behind you.

You turn around in surprise, quickly bowing in respect before properly greeting her.

" Your majesty, how good to see you." You smile at her, talking to her as if she's an aunt of you.

" My dear, it's good to see you too. I haven't seen you in a while. Is there too much work on your shoulders to be able to breath?" She asks as she starts to stride alongside of you.

" No your majesty, things were just a bit messy but now that everything's sorted out, I can breathe again." You tell her calmly.

" Ah, I see." She smiles gently.

" How are you your majesty?  Had it busy yourself too?" You ask her.

She glances at you before answering.

" Ah, it's been a little stressful. But nothing I can't handle." She tells you honestly.

You nod along to her words.

" I can only imagine." You tell her.

" Are you busy right now?" She asks you as the two of you stop in front of a door.

" No your majesty, is there something I can do for you?" You ask her.

" Would you fancy talking to me over tea? You don't have to of course." She asks, obviously curious.

You smile and nod.

" Sure your majesty."

And so the two of you chat for another 30 minutes. Sure, you were originally going to Namjoon, but talking with his mother is certainly not bad either. Unlike the queen of your home country, Namjoon's mother is a high spirited and curious woman.

" Mother." Someone walks in and nods in greeting to the woman across from you.

"Y/N?" The same voice asks with a surprised, but gentle tone.

" Hey Joon, I was actually on my way to you before I bumped into your mother. " You smile at him.

Namjoon takes in the pleasant sight in front of him with a surprised smile. One that reaches all the way to his dimples.

It's the first time he has ever seen his mother so comfortable to be talking with another woman, not even a princess could bring her in this deep of a comfort zone.

" I assume you want to steal her away from me?" His mother smiles at him before he can actually think of a reply.

He nods.

" Yes, but I can wait if you're having fun together." He tells her.

She shakes her head with a happy smile and shoos the both of you out of the room.

" Nonsense. Have fun together."

You and Namjoon look at each other before the both of you start chuckling.

" I don't think I've ever seen my mother this comfortable around other people." He tells you with a smile.

" How so? She's a pretty fun woman." You tell him honestly.

Namjoon shrugs and holds his elbow out for you to take as he starts walking towards his office, not that you know what it means, as you are a non royal.

You walk alongside him, oblivious to the look he's giving you by not linking your arm in his.

" Not sure." He takes it upon himself to link your arm trough his.

You blush at the contact, and look puzzled at his action.

" It's a way royals usually walk together. You might've seen my parents do so before." He smiles nervously, hoping you get the hint.

He was already crushing on you, hard. But now that he sees how you get along with his family, he's sure of it. He doesn't need a princess to be happy, he needs you.

" Oh, so like this is how you'd walk with princesses and noble women?" You ask.

Namjoon wants to facepalm at your response.

" No, no- Royals walk like this with they're- You know what, nevermind, I just like to walk with you like this. Also, I don't walk like this with a lot of people." He ends up getting flustered at his own answer.

" So, how's the work at the stables going?" He asks, changing topic before you can say something about his behavior.

It works, and the two of you end up talking for the rest of the day in his office, snacking away at his secret snack stash and at some point actually having dinner there too.

" Damn, you're whipped." Are Hoseok's words the next evening.

Namjoon is currently sat with his friends ( his brothers Jin and Taehyung, the royal advisors Jimin, Yoongi and Jackson, dance teacher Hoseok and stable boy Jungkook who they grew up with)

" Yeah I know. But she only just got off an unofficial relationship, I think I need to wait before I can ask her out." Namjoon tells the rest.

" Woah, hold up, my last braincell can't understand this. Unofficial relationship?" Jungkook asks.

Namjoon nods.

" Yes, her crush turned put to be a dick-"

" Joon, I'm sorry to point it out but I get paid for it- don't cuss-" Jackson butts in.

" - they were her exact words tough." Namjoon mumbles.

" If those were her words than she'll move on pretty fast right? I mean girls cuss out their ex when they're officially done with them do they not?" Jimin wonders out loud.

" I think Joon's right, he should be patient-"

" Yoongi, do you actually know stuff about romance?-"

" Shut it brat." Yoongi cuts off Taehyung with a good natured glare.

" I can't wait to see if she stands out to the public." Jin says randomly.

All eyes turn to him, confused by his words.

" The parade is in a two weeks. Considering she's head of the stables, she'll probably be there too right. " Jin points out.

The parade which Jin was talking about is once a year every year, it's a parade in traditional style meant to not forget where the country's origin lies.

Usually Namjoon didn't really like the parade due to the old traditional music and having to sit still for hours, but if it meant that you were there too, it might be a little more bearable.

The rest of the week goes by in a wink. Everyone is mostly busy with preparations and stuff alike. You and Namjoon only have little moments in between to talk and meet up, despite living on a two minute distance. 

It isn't until two days before the parade that he has a free spot in his schedule to meet up with you. You don't have a spot free, but he's bothered you enough to know that you're usually able to talk while working.

" Hey Kook' seen Y/N around?" Namjoon asks Jungkook who's cleaning up one of the horses' their stable.

" I think we just had some stuff for the decorations on the tack in, so I think she's working with it in the tack room." He tells the elder with a smug smile before turning back to work.

And so Namjoon walks towards the tack room. While he walks by the stables, he can see the change of the horses. They look healthier, and his very own horse Koya was actually happy to see him for once ( the mare was usually in a bad mood). Winter recognized him too, and happily greeted him and both horses happily accepted the treat he had brought for them.

" Hey. Things look better here." Namjoon greets you as he walks into the tack room.

You look up from the mess you've made on the table, where an array of white, yellow, black, blue and red decorations are spread out. 

" Hey. Long time no see." You smile as you greet him with a hug.

He returns it all too easy, his nose greeted by your gentle body mist.

" So, what's this all about?" He asks, motioning to the huge amount of traditional styled tack decorations lying about.

" Decorations for the horse tack. I'm currently sorting everything out." You smile at him.

He blinks at the mess on the table.

" This is sorted out?" He asks.

" Some of it. There's the stuff for Koya by the way, the only thing missing is her norigae but I've heard that she's supposed to wear the same one as you. I was planning to go by your office to ask you for it later, but since you're here anyway...?" You tell him, pointing to the white and red tack.

" Yeah of course. Is this winter's tack?" He asks you, motioning to the yellow and black tack which is lying beside Koya's.

" Yes. I'm only missing a norigae, so I might go to the market later today." You tell him.

Namjoon's eyes shine with an idea as he hears that. Maybe he can sneakily get you to wear his custom norigae too? That way you'd both be matching in a way too.

" Hey, if you want, we can go and get the norigae right now?" He asks you, bringing his idea to life.

You look at your work in tough before nodded.

" Sure, that way Koya's tack is all complete." You smile at him as he holds out his arm to you.

This time you don't look confused, you take it.

You miss the way Jungkook's eyes widen when the two of you walk by him, you also miss the vibrant smile on Namjoon's face as he looks at Jungkook.

Instead of leading you to his office like usual, he leads you to a different part of the castle, where the royal' family's personal chambers are.

" Hey, um, are you sure that I'm allowed in here? I don't want to cause trouble." You tell him.

He nods, unlocking his door and stepping aside to let you in first.

" Yeah, it's me who you're with, so it's all cool. Also, you're allowed here always. I'll give the guards a heads up so they'll know it too. If I'm not at my office, you'll most probably find me here." He tells you as he lets go of you arm and instead laces his fingers with yours, leading the way with a gentle smile.

His quarters are bigger than your apartment in the staff building, there's a hallway, a door to the bedroom, a door to his walk in closet, a door to the bathroom and an opening to the livingroom.

" Quite a big apartment you have Joonie." You tell him as you look all over the place.

He doesn't even realize what you're saying, the only thing that reaches his ears is the nickname you've just called him by.

" Joonie?" He asks with pink ears.

You smile with a blush.

" Oh, I'm sorry, your royal highness." You tease him.

He laughs with you, and shakes his head.

" I think I like Joonie better." He winks at you before opening the door to the walk in closet, pulling you in with him.

In the room there are rows upon rows of clothing, each sectioned. There's casual, nightwear, outdoor activities, formal and traditional.

He opens one of the doors of ( what you geuss to be) a closet full with accessories.

You're not wrong, and he pulls out a wooden box with elegant carvings, putting it down on one of the dressers and opening it.

" Pick which one you think looks best by Koyas'." He tells you as he motions to the norigae in the box. Unlike the rest, there isn't a lot of it.

Koya's accessories are white and red themed, like all royal horses' are, and just to your luck, Namjoon owns one which would suit it, the design actually much the same as the Koya's actual tack.

" This one looks nice." You tell him as you point to the white and red one.

" You can take it with you, I know you're a neat person anyway." He smiles, nervous for his own question.

" Anything which you like?" He asks you, the tips of his ears turning pink once again.

You turn to look at him with wide eyes.

" What? I'm not allowed, you know?" You tell him, your eyes holding a sadness he can't explain and turning your head away from him.

" They don't need to know." He tells you softly, lifting your chin up gently.

You blush. Hard. At his actions.

You don't make a move to look at the norigae either, and so he takes it upon himself to do so.

He takes a yellow and black one and shows it to you, the decorative accessory more of an art work.

" What about this one?" He asks you.

You shake your head.

" It's too extravagant.... If you're really okay with it, can I borrow this one?" You ask him, motioning to a minimum decorated yellow one.

" Of course." He smiles as he takes that one off and the same one in black, handing both to you.

" One for your horse, and one for you." He smiles cheekily, not looking into you eyes, but instead putting both of them into your palm.

When he looks up at you again, there's a soft look in your eyes, filled with something he can't explain.

Suddenly the room's a little hot, and his hands start to feel clammy.

Were you two going to kiss?

However, he's left a little disappointed when you clear your throat, clearing the tension with it.

" I should get back to work." You say.

He snaps out of his trance and nods.

" Yeah. Same." He responds lamely.

You look at him again before making your next move.

" Thank you." You say softly as you kiss his cheek before walking away.

The small kiss on his cheek is all Namjoon can think about for the next few days, up until the day of the parade.

The day of the parade starts off hectic as per usual. 

There's Jimin and Taehyung being serious for once ( which makes them very suspicious.) There's Yoongi looking for Seokjin every five minutes, the royal advisor tired of chasing after the future king every day. And then there's Jackson who let Namjoon sleep in for a bit.

Jackson ( Namjoon's advisor) has always been able to balance everything perfectly. Today is no different. Though Namjoon wakes up fairly early, and therefore decides to start the day by himself, he does inform Jackson of where he is and what he's doing.

He knows in the back of his mind that he doesn't really need to, about everyone knows that he's at the stables if he's not in his office or private chambers.

The stables are a mess and very busy. In fact, it's so chaotic that Jungkook doesn't even realize that Namjoon's standing there, who's standing outside and readying the carriages.

It takes around 10 minutes before Jungkook actually notices the prince, who's leaning against a stable wall.

" Oh. Morning hyung. How long have you been standing there?" Jungkook greets him, bowing his head.

" Not too long. An-" 

" Y/N's at the main stables, she's was working on getting Mangs' mane braided last time I checked." Jungkook smiles at his hyung who's speechless.

" Thanks." He says puzzled.

A few minutes later he's at Mang's stable, and you appear to be working on Chimmy's braids now. There's a Bluetooth box in the corner of the stables, playing one of the many songs you've let him hear before.

In comparison to the rest of the stables, it's pretty chill here. It's just you, and a few of your coworkers, who're preparing the tack of the royal horses. Namjoon can spot the norigae you've picked out for Koya standing proud on his bearing strap.

" It seems you've got the situation under your control." Namjoon tells you, making you turn around.

At the sound of his voice, your coworkers immediately greet him with respect, and Namjoon nods his head back to each of them.

You smile and greet him with a hug.

" Yeah, we've been preparing for a week now so we didn't have to do everything last minute for a reason. How're things going in the castle?" You ask him as you move back to Chimmy, going back to braiding.

" Pretty good actually-" He's cut off by the vibrations of his own phone, and he barely excuses himself as he takes it.

" Namjoon, Where are you? I have called you six times already. Your stylist arrived ten minutes ago. Hurry up to your closet!" Jackson's voice screams trough the phone.

" Oh, um, it appears I have to go. I'll see you at the parade?" He asks.

You nod at him, and as he leaves, one of your coworkers turns to you with a silly smirk.

" So, you and prince Namjoon, huh?" He hears her teasing voice, which causes him to leave with pink ears.

The rest of the time passes by in a heartbeat, and before he knows it, he's standing in front of the castle, waving at the press and citizens.

Soon after he's with the rest of the royal family in the royal carriage, and he can see you on Winter on the side, ready to ride off with him.

He secretly wishes that you're seated right beside him, though he knows that that's for now a lot to ask.

Winter's norigae is also proudly displayed, as is yours. He's surprised at how neat Winter's posture is. The horse's head is usually held high with his ears forward, ready to explore the world. Right now his head is bent like the dressage horse he's supposed to be.

Then everyone is setting off as scheduled.

Taehyung's eyes catch someone looking rather suspicious to the side after about an hour or two.

The male was wearing all black, standing out from the colourful festive. He wasn't smiling or cheering, just stood completely still.

He looked at the figure more carefully, not wanting to create drama out of nothing.

He changed his mind as the suspicious male catches his eyes, and smirks at the prince.

He turns to Jin, who's sitting beside him, but before he's even fully turned, there's suddenly a loud bomb going off.

Everyone sets into panic, especially the horses.

Namjoon is worried about not only his people now, but especially his staff and more important to him, you.

He can only watch as the person who's driving the carriage sets the horses loose, and is left perplexed when you run after it with Winter.

And then he's demanding to get off the damn carriage because he wants to help you.

There's the distinct yelling of his title trough his mind, but he doesn't pay any mind to it. All he can focus on is helping you.

" Prince Kim Namjoon! Listen to your king and-" His father's sentence is cut off as he closes the carriage door behind him and walks off into the forest he's seen you disappear into.

He doesn't make it far into the forest before one of the guards is pulling him back to his family, who're now sitting in a bulletproof car.

"Namjoon, what are you thinking?! You've not only put yourself in danger by stepping out of the carriage but us too! Not to mention the citizens. What's wrong with you?!" His father screams at him in anger.

Seokjin and Taehyung are worried upon looking at the panicked look on their brother's face.

"She's out there."

His mother understands what's happening by hearing that sentence.

He's in love with you.

His father gets it too, and sighs before looking at his wife, both of them sharing worried glances.

His father panics, and decides that Namjoon is to stay in his chambers for the rest of the night.

Instead Namjoon sneaks out, making his way to the staff dorms. He halts at the door, not sure on which number to ring.

After all, he's never been at your place.

Luckily for him, one of the maids who just finished her shift spotted him, and asks him if she can help him.

" Any idea what Y/N L/N's house number is?" He asks her sheepishly.

She smiles and nods.

" Yes, but if you're looking for her, She's still at the stables, inspecting the horses." She tells him.

He blinks at her before thanking her and running off.

It's around 23' at night now, and the incident was around 17' in the afternoon.

Worry fills his eyes as he spots you in the stables.

You're now talking with the horses' vet, but your clothes have blood on them.

He's got no idea if it's yours or the horses, but he just hopes that it's neither.

He hears you and the vet greet each other a goodbye and rushes to your side.

" Hey, are you okay?" Is the first thing that he asks you.

You jump as you turn around, your tired eyes making contact with his.

" Woah, you scared me there. And yeah, I'm fine, just a few scratches." You wave him off, though the blood on your shirt tells him another story.

It's not seeping through dramatically, it's mostly dry, but Namjoon can't help but worry as your undershirt is matted with dirt and there's lines of blood on it too, as tough You've been cut.

" Are you sure that it doesn't hurt? We can take you to the doctor in the castle? I'm sure he won't mind-" 

" I'm fine Joon, honestly. The cuts aren't something I can't treat myself." You smile at him tiredly yet in a reassuring way, something that touches his heart.

" Thank god. Also, why're you still here? Are the horses injured?" He asks you.

You sigh and nod, walking over to Rj's stable.

" Some yeah. Especially Rj, he's always been a bad jumper, especially today when he ended up stuck on a fallen tree trunk. And it was about 19' when I had managed to get all the horses with the rest of the staff. I dismissed them all after that and decided to help the vet myself." You tell Joon as you look at the white horse who's leaning heavily on three of his legs, the fourth being stitched and bandaged.

" You didn't even eat dinner yet?" He asks, eyes wide.

You shrug and nod.

" Yeah, but it's fine, don't worry about it. Now if you don't mind, I really want to go home. So I'll be locking up the stables, if you still want to talk, feel free to come with me to my humble home." You tell him as you collect your stuff and turn towards the entrance.

He's quick to catch up to you, wordlessly taking your stuff for you.

Moments later he's stood in the kitchen, exploring your cabinets on what to make you while you're in the shower.

You've told him to make himself comfortable while you'd freshen up, but he wants to make you something so you didn't have to make yourself dinner.

However, Joon can't cook, as he has never been taught. From the three princes, only the eldest knows how to.

And so he ends up following a recipe, which doesn't turn out great either.

And so when you step out of the shower, you hurry to the kitchen due to the smell of fire.

You're very surprised to see the prince just standing there, in front of the stove, looking more confused than panicked.

He's scratching the back of his head and you hear him mumbling "Is it supposed to smell like this?"

His question is quickly answered by you hastily turning off the stove and turning on the extractor.

" You don't cook very often do you?" You ask him dryly, folding your arms over one another.

He's lowkey disappointed by his failure of being husband material, and it shows on his face.

" Sorry. I wanted to make you dinner so you wouldn't have to after such a long day." He tells you guiltily with a small pout, which turns you soft.

You smile at him due to his antics.

" That's real sweet, but I was planning on simple ramen." You tell him.

And so the two of you end up making ramen together ( as he's very set on letting you do as little as possible.)

About thirty minutes later, the two of you are seated on the sofa, each a bowl of ramen in your grasp as he's looking for a good movie, and a blanket thrown over your laps. 

The distance between you two is smaller than it's appropriate for a prince and his staff member, and you both love it.

Moments later, the two of you are done with dinner, and Namjoon watches worriedly as you sleepily blink at the screen and keep switching positions, unable to find a comfortable one.

" You know, if you're uncomfortable, you can lean on me, I don't mind."

The words leave his mouth before he can think about it twice.

No words leave your mouth before you're snuggling against him, legs thrown over the couch, folded sideways, blanket pulled up to your chin and your head resting on his shoulder.

He's only too happy with your reaction, and wraps an arm around you in response, pulling you even closer.

The two of you watch most of the unimportant movie in silence, until Namjoon hears your light snores.

The sight that greets him makes him just realize how deep in he is once again.

You're literally drooling on his shirt, yet he still finds your visuals pleasing to the eye.

He's whipped and he knows it.

He turns off the tv before moving you to the bedroom.

He really didn't plan to sleep over, but once he's dropped you off on your bed, ( literally, almost falling on top of you himself) you don't let go of him.

And so he just sleeps over, and he's happy he came in sweats and a sweater.

The next morning, you wake up without an alarm, you wake up in the prince's arms.

Which leaves you very flustered.

Because as far as you're concerned, you're supposed to take the morning shift at the stables today.

The first thing you do is check your phone, something you haven't done since you called the vet for the horses.

You're greeted by kind messages of the other staff from the stables, and they let you have a day off as you were working from 6 am to 11 pm yesterday.

And so you set on making breakfast.

Meanwhile Namjoon's slowly waking up in your room.

Luckily for him, he's off duty until around 15', and it's now about 10'.

Pleased with the time, he reaches out for you, only to realize that you're not there.

He's not really in the mood to stay lazy in bed, and so he comes to join you in the kitchen.

The sight that greets him there makes him feel fuzzy, again.

You're not even doing anything specific, just flipping pancakes while you're wearing this huge shirt and sweats, your hair pulled up in the most unorganized bun he's ever seen.

But he loves it. He really does.

" Morning." He murmurs lowly in your ear as he hugs you from behind in greeting.

You jump, but relax soon after.

" Morning sleepyhead. Slept well?" You ask him.

He smiles.

" I did but when I woke up you weren't there anymore." He pouts.

Meanwhile his parents were figuring out on what to do.

" Well, what do you suggest? Our boy is in love. And what's wrong with that? She's a nice woman." The queen tells her husband as they're talking in one of the yards, enjoying the weather.

"Of course there's nothing wrong with that, but she's a peasant. He'd be breaking tradition, and I don't want anyone using that against him, nor do I want someone to use the woman's former title against her." The king tells her.

His wife looks at him in surprise.

"You don't have anything against her?"

" Of course not honey, why would I?" The king asks her.

" You didn't really seem to like her in the carriage ride." She tells him pointedly.

"  I admit, I had to think about it, but she's indeed nice. and Namjoon's obviously in love with her." The king said with a small smile.

" Then I suggest we let it be up to him."

When Joon came back home, a fortunate surprise was waiting for him, the 'okay' of his parents.

When he heard so, he was shook, but happy out of his mind.

Soon his group of friends knew it, and not too long after, his staff too (though they lowkey were already).

Next up he started planning everything out, and with everything, I mean like too much.

He's starting to think about on how to ask you, and on what to wear, whenether to take you on a date or straight up ask you out.

It's not until a few days later that he admits his feelings.

The two of you are simply cuddled up together, doing absolutely nothing, simply talking about life and complaining about Yoongi's horse riding skills.

It's already late at night, and it only settles the mood.

It doesn't go according to plan though, instead of being cute and asking you out with a fancy sign and everything, the two are laid on the couch, you in his arms as the two of you lay saggedly against one another. And he literally goes;

" Did you know that I have the biggest crush on you?"

It's not planned, he didn't even mean to say it.

It just happened.

All you did was laugh at a really bad joke he made, and it just came out.

He blushed hard, as you now get up to face him.

" Wait, are you serious?" You ask him, eyes wide.

He swallows, and stays silent, not entirely sure on what to say. It takes him a moment before he answers.

" I, uhm, yeah. I do."

He says it so cutely you have to keep yourself from chuckling at him.

He adjusts his position, now sitting up too, except he's leaning his back against the couch.

You don't take too long to respond, instead being pretty quick.

" You mean, I could've asked you out a whole while earlier, and you would've said yes?" You ask him.

He nods, at first normally, softly, then suddenly vigorously.

" Of course I would! Have you seen yourself? You're one heck of a woman!" He exclaims.

Now it's your turn to blush.

" Okay, uhm, wait- I know this pick up line and- I think you got your pronouns wrong, instead of he/him it should be you're/mine." You pop suddenly adding to the moment.

Joon laughs at that, throwing his head back.

He bites his lip once he's calmed down again.

" I mean, I guess you're right. In a way.- Mind if I kiss you?" 

The two of you are suddenly moving fast, very fast, but neither of you are bothered.

The two of you have been good friends since a while back anyway, and this really didn't bother either of you.

You've simply waited way too long for each other either way, it appeared.

" Oh, yes. Please do-" 

You can barely finish, before he's pressing his lips to yours.

[writernotwaiting]

Unsolicited Loki Meta, Part 2  (with a side order of narrative theory)

I’ve been reading a lot of meta about the Loki series over the past few days, and the reactions on both ends of the spectrum are pretty strong. And let’s fact it, as fans of gender-fluid or queer characters—which includes Loki, but also several other franchises (*cough cough* looking squint-eyed at you, Sherlock)--we have been mightily abused over the past few years. Many of us are all viewing the series through the cynical lens of narrative betrayal, and are either desperate to see any Loki content as a blessing from above, or cynically waiting to be sucker punched by the evil Marvel overlords.

I admit, I cannot watch this show without both of those impulses in the back of my head. I really *want* the show to redeem itself, and so I may just be looking for ways to excuse their sloppy story telling, true.

The MCU, as a whole, sacrificed character development altogether in the second half of their movie series in favor of unnecessary battle scenes and plot twists. I would argue, in fact, that the last of the MCU movies to privilege character over spectacle were The Winter Soldier and The Black Panther. The sacrifice of character development came largely because the franchise made a deliberate decision to follow a specific narrative structure that depends heavily on the ideological foundation of traditional masculinity—physical strength, personal agency, an unwillingness to compromise, skill in combat, willingness to initiate aggression to solve problems, a world view that equates vengeance with justice and privileges open confrontation over “back-door dealing”--a formula that the franchise employs regardless of whether its hero is male or female. In service of this ideological foundation, the narrative subordinates all other social roles to support the development of the dominant masculine ideal.

{more under the cut}

The MCU (and the movie industry as a whole, really) has no idea what to do with a character that doesn’t fit the standard narrative pattern: “strong person who fits masculine ideal (even if the person is female—Natasha Romanov, Carol Danvers, Pepper Potts when she comes raging out of the fire to smash Kilian) is flawed and will reach his/her great potential when someone s/he loves dies a horrible death.”

If you look at the franchise, a sympathetic character dies (is fridged) in nearly every single one of the movies—Yinsen, Loki (functionally), Coulson (functionally), Pietro, Frigga, T’chaka, Odin and Heimdall, Loki (again), Everyone Who Gets Snapped, etc, etc, etc. And the deaths of those characters catalyze the epiphanies that enable the “heroes” to fully accept their proper place as Ideal Masculine Defender (again whether the character is male or female). 

This is not new. It’s a narrative device which, in fact, is true for a lot of Disney’s animated films (you might have noticed that there are a lot of dead mothers in Disney movies).

Gender-ambiguous and traditional female social roles do not fit this narrative pattern. You cannot squash negotiation and compromise into this structure. Neither will a character fit if s/he prefers subterfuge over explosions. It goes without saying that nurturance, healing, and support are right out. The MCU wants Achilles, not Odysseus, and Penelope is only useful if she dies, rather than outsmarts a banquet hall of suitors for ten years.

So what hope is there for Loki, whose characterization rests on his ambiguity? I really hope that the show doesn’t flatten him out in order to squash him into the current MCU narrative structure.

Some things signal hope for this.

Although it gets dressed up in a 1950s, cartoon vibe (which very much softens its threat), the TVA looks very much to me like the embodiment of the insidious kind of evil that comes from a fascist bureaucracy. Many of the people caught up in it (like the guy who wants a signature and has a cute cat, like the guy who asks whether Loki is a robot, and like Casey) are “just doing their jobs” and don’t think about the horribleness of what the end result of their jobs is. The is the “benign face of evil” that permits any fascist organization to thrive.

The not-so-benign face shows up with the hunter who, from the very start, delights in the ability to inflict pain--slowing down time so Loki feels the pain of the blow even longer than he would in real time, and snickering in his helplessness when he tries to use magic and fails. These are the dark underside of fascism--the SS enforcers that rough up the undesirables (in this case, the variants), and enjoys the power over those whom they see as less than fully human.

I hope that the show means to use this 1984-vibe to highlight Loki’s non-stereotypically-masculine strengths--his intellect, his love of mischief, his loyalty to those who are loyal to him, his ability to solve problems through the back channels rather than by Thor-like confrontation.

And yeah, some folks have complained that Loki’s breakdown in episode 1 comes pretty quickly, and through some fairly reprehensible gaslighting (and careful omission of details on Mobius’s part). I agree that his methods are cruel and manipulative. As for their effectiveness, well, I think it’s fair to point out that Loki has had a pretty shitty day--a pretty shitty couple of years, in fact, which makes him particularly susceptible to this sort of manipulation.

Again, I am hoping that this set up will lead to a more genuine self-awareness and acceptance as Loki re-learns his own strengths without Odin’s A+ parenting to undermine it. Loki needs to learn to live with himself. I’m hoping the series gives him the time and space (pun intended) to do this.

[criminalmutantsins]

Top 10 Favorite Young Justice Characters

10. Jaime Reyes/Blue Beetle

Starting off the list is Blue Beetle. Young Justice introduced me to him, and I was hooked. He’s probably the most mellow and calming voice. His arc and relationship with Bart (friendship or not) were my favorite aspects of S2. They bounced off each other in every scene. I was very disappointed when Jaime and Bart were sidelined so much, and hope S4 changes this (particularly with Bart).

Jaime in the number 10 spot since he doesn’t really have much of a memorable personality. Still love him to bits though.

        9. Will Harper/Red Arrow

Funny enough, I did not like Will. He was an asshole in S1; S2 kind of changed my mind about him but not enough since he didn’t appear as much. What really changed my mind was the episode “Private Security” (S3 Ep.4). I started looking back into Will’s storylines and, I have to admit, his is probably one of the best character development.

The first season had him unwillingly living a lie and betraying the people he cared for. In season 2 he was so consumed into finding the original Roy for five years, not even caring or focusing about his own life. I felt really bad for Will because he was probably going through an identity crisis and thought he couldn’t live his life without finding Arsenal. Probably felt guilty.

Seeing him living his own life and being happy with his daughter was so heartwarming. I smiled every time Will appeared in the latest season (totally ignoring the Will x Artemis fiasco), especially with Lian. I’m very proud of him.

I feel bad for putting him so low, yet I adore the next characters more.

 8. Garfield Logan/Beast Boy

I have been a massive Beast Boy fan since Teen Titans so you probably can imagine how excited to see him. His origin story was unique and his brother-sister bond with M’gann was very sweet. It was pretty weird seeing how much younger Gar was than Dick, but I got used to it. I was bummed that Gar wasn’t in S2 as much; however, S3 truly made up for it. 

After watching Beast Boy being a great leader in S5 of Teen Titans, I wanted a leader-like and more mature version of him. Young Justice truly delivered with Gar being the leader of the Outsiders. It’s nice to see him treated with respect rather than as a joke because that was my biggest gripe with Teen Titans. Though it was weird seeing him not crack a joke at all.

Gar’s story with his mom was heartbreaking to see. I literally cried seeing his reaction to revisiting his trauma in S2 and S3; I just wanted to hug and tell him how awesome he is. My only complaint with Gar in S3 was that the Outsiders weren’t established until near the end of the season.

His voice actor being Greg Cipes also gives him extra points (He’s a chill guy and radiates BB energy).

 7. Dick Grayson/Nightwing/ Robin I 

Sorry to all the hardcore Nightwing fans.

I love Dick (don’t get any ideas), but he doesn’t get enough development in the spotlight. One of the things I really wanted to see from him is his growth as a main leader, and his journey to becoming Nightwing. I was really bummed when these happened between the first two seasons.

To be honest, I don’t have as much to say about him other than straightforward qualities I enjoy about him.

1.His Voice (it’s so soothing)

2.His Personality (very charismatic)

3.Very Handsome (Probably in the top 3 my most handsome YJ Men list)

I put him higher than the others since he made a lot of contribution to the story and his new words (gotta love that aster!)

6. Megan Morse/M’gann M’orzz/Miss Martian 

If I made this list during S1, M’gann would have probably been in my top 3 (maybe even No. 1), but S2 didn’t give her any brownie points.

I really liked S1 Miss Martian because of her kind heart, awkward girl next door personality. Her trouble fitting in the beginning reminded me of when I was going through a time in high school; seeing her having trouble as well helped me feel not so lonely. M’gann powers were (still are) my favorite since I am a big fan of mind-like powers. I would feel so powerful. Watching her identity crisis(?) arc was great too. I’ve had trouble feeling comfortable in my own skin as well as my social anxiety (I’m a mess) and I could understand how scared Megan was of her friends’ thoughts on her true form. 

Oh boy. Season 2 basically ruined her. Learning what she would do to enemies was terrifying to see and left me wondering what happened to Miss Martian that made her step this far. What she almost did to Superboy was almost unforgivable. You do not try to manipulate with your boyfriend’s mind when you guys have an argument! Shame on you M’gann. If Superboy hadn’t forgiven you then I wouldn’t have either.

Good thing S3 somewhat redeemed her. Her kind heart was noticeable again and she refused to do that mind trick again (thank god). Very excited for the Superboy and Miss Martian wedding! Please creators, I beg of you to not skip over it. I want to cry my eyes out in happiness!

 5. Kaldur’ahm/Aquaman/Aqualad 

Now we’re in the top 5 with Aqualad (*ahem* Aquaman) starting it off.

Creating Kaldur was the best decision the creators ever did. I love him with all my heart!

He added diversity to the original team and was a great leader. S1 was not his breakout season, though the second season definitely was.

Kladur played the villain so well that he deserves an automatic Oscar. I never doubted that he was with the heroes, but he didn’t disappoint. My favorite part about Aqualad’s performance was when he rose from the ocean slowly like a cliché villain (he made it work), and the line he said right after he “killed” Artemis; it sent me chills. Love it! 

Pretty disappointed that he didn’t appear as much in S3. Very happy that he is a part of the LGBTQ+ community and is in a happy relationship. I’m a part of the community and loved that there was finally some representation in one of my favorite shows. Even so, I have to criticize how rushed and sidelined it was. I hope Kaldur and Wyynde’s relationship gets development.

 4. Kon-El/Conner Kent/Superboy

Like Will, I did not like Superboy at first. Mainly angry and volatile characters were never really my cup of tea. I do understand why he was upset and felt bad for him; I just handle anger the direct opposite as him. My love for Conner started growing around the end of S1. He was very sweet towards Miss Martian (bless him for not caring about her appearance) and his anger was in control.

Season 2 pretty much switched my opinions on him and M’gann. It was awful what M’gann almost did to him. That scene with him being so sad that what she did ruined that special bond they had almost made me cry. I wanted to give him a hug. He grew so much too since I don’t think he would have handled the whole M’gann drama as well in S1. A lot of furniture would’ve been broken.

I gotta admit something. I almost put Conner near the bottom (maybe no. 7). A comment in a poll in Amino changed my mind. I wrote a poll asking other fans who did they prefer SB or MM. At that point I said SB, though I didn’t think much of it. Someone (specifically yjfangirl) responded “Superboy has the best development in the show.” This had me thinking about how far SB has gone. In the beginning, Conner was an angry guy who felt alone and rejected by the person who he was meant to emulate. Now he is happier and living for himself rather than to be the next Superman. He’s getting married people! A little detail I noticed when rewatching S3 was Superboy mentioning to new characters that they weren’t obligated to be a hero because of their abilities. I adored this! The main reason why Superboy was created to be Superman if the original ever died, and another one of Luthor’s puppets. But he strayed from that pressuring path and is doing his own thing. Conner doesn’t want other people to feel like he did. What an absolute pure soul.

Also, yjfangirl, first I want to say Hi (*waves*)! Then say thanks for writing that comment. It made me really think about the bigger picture with SB and my love for him as grown exponentially. You probably didn’t mean to do that, but I still want to thank you. 😊

 3.Wally West/Kid Flash

We’re in the elites now.

I don’t know how to explain it, I just love Wally. He makes me laugh, and his character growth was great. At first, Wally was this cocky flirt who didn’t take the hero work as seriously. That changed in “Cold-hearted,” one of my favorite episodes in the series. This was when I really started seeing more of Wally than being this dumb flirt. It was great seeing him actually caring about helping people since I believed for a long time that he wanted to be a superhero to just have powers rather than actually protect others. The regret in his eyes when he thought his impulsive behavior killed Perdita helped me see who he really was- this somewhat arrogant speedster who had a kind heart. Episodes that can make me change my perspective on characters are truly special.

I was very upset that he wasn’t in S2 a lot. I understand why since he gave up the life, but I was still bummed. Seeing him being so loving and protective towards Artemis was amazing. Spitfire is my favorite ship and I will not give up on them. All I want is a happy ending! The penultimate episode of S3 was a hint that it will happen. Watching the S2 finale was heartbreaking, I cried watching him disappear, his love for Artemis being the last things he said. Artemis’ reaction did not(I just wanted to hug her). 

I have more to say, though I’m leaving it for another post. 😉

 2.Bart Allen/Kid Flash II/Impulse

Picking between Bart and Wally for second place was tough. Took me a while to decide; I’ll talk about it later on.

The moment Bart made his appearance, I absolutely adored him. He is amazing and I live for his hyper, fun attitude. His arc and relationship with Jaime were my favorite aspects of S2. What can I say, their chemistry is great to see.

That scene when he was meeting the Flash family was so adorable. His excitement was infectious and spoiling his dad and aunt’s births was hilarious! I watch it occasionally whenever I need a good laugh or reason to smile.

Unlike most time travelers- at least the ones I’ve seen- Bart was very involved with what was going on and befriended his biggest enemy- evil and weirdly huge future Blue Beetle. He was pretty careful about disclosing very important information and took things very seriously. You never know if disclosing everything was the thing that brought the world to chaos.

What I found interesting was his choice on how to interact with everyone. He seemed pretty gloomy in the future, but decided to portray this cheerful, devil-may-care attitude to be more likable. I understood (still kind of do). I had terrible mental health issues and I pretended to be happy in front of loved ones because I thought they wouldn’t care about me anymore. Bart got some brownie points for that.

I was dissatisfied when his role was greatly reduced. I wanted the creators to go further with Bart by revealing his past and how it affected him. He was pretty much comedy relief. You couldn’t imagine how disappointed I was, especially with it involving my second favorite character. Season 4 better change that.

I know that you shouldn’t assume a character’s sexuality, yet I really hope Bart is gay. There needs to be more clear representation and Bart can be one of them. I’m also a Bluepulse and Bartuado shipper (fine with either one as long as Bart’s bond with each of them stays strong).

Anyway, I mentioned that I would explain why I chose Bart for 2nd place over Wally. It mostly stems from wishful thinking. I really want S4 to have Bart as a main character since I believe the future will be strong plot point in the season. Development could surely happen such as Bart opening up more about what he went through. Let all those feelings go.

I’m going to write an article on my hopes for S4 when a release date is announced. Bart and Wally will most definitely be talked about.

 …..

We are finally near the end!

And my No. 1 favorite character is…

Drumroll please!

…

..

.

1.Artemis Crock/Tigress/Artemis

That’s right people!

Artemis Crock, original member of the Team and daughter of villains!

She is such an inspiration to anyone who wants to go their own past without their parents’ support.

It’s hard to describe how much I love Artemis. She’s brave, strong-willed, and a kind person. It’s crazy how great of a person she is after all the terrible things that happened to her. I look up to her because I don’t have a healthy relationship with my parents (verbal and mental abuse) and there are times I don’t feel strong enough to stand on my own. I want to carry the amount of strength Artemis has as my own.

After all that happened in S2, it was amazing to see Artemis come back to the team and train the new generation. It must have been hard to walk away from a safe, comfortable life for a chaotic, dangerous life. I admire that in everyone, but I hold more respect for Artemis since “the life” “killed” Wally. I wanted to hug her so bad.

She’s also one of the kindest people in the show, the events in S3 being the best example. When Zatanna was crying about her dad, Artemis was there to comfort her. It was so sweet! Roy and her also took in Halo and Terra like they were a part of the family; the archer treated them like the best big sister. That rainstorm scene was heartwarming to the core.

Wouldn’t Artemis be an amazing mother? Lian and her have a strong bond like a mother and daughter; I loved it, and Lian is in good hands with Roy and Artemis. Though Jade deserves a chance to be a mother. Artemis also seemed to enjoy taking care of those kids in that S1 episode. Wally too. You guys know what I’m guys insinuating. 😉

Get ready for some fanfics on that someday.

My favorite Artemis-centered episode was the second to last episode of S3. I was waiting for this episode centering around Artemis missing Wally and learning to move on. It was great yet heartbreaking. Nothing bad happened. That Will and Artemis kiss never happened. Everyone makes a mistake. No matter how terrible it was.

Anyway, seeing Artemis and Wally living their lives and having a baby gave me life, even if it was fake. It was a vision of the future. I will believe this until there is confirmation that Wally will not come back.

Did anyone else cry when Artemis was so desperate to, but Wally wouldn’t let that happen (the real Wally would do that)? They are a great example of a healthy relationship with all the love and support they have for each other. I want that.