#THIS IS A MEGA SLOW BURN IM SO SORRY

[jawllines]

But how could she voice this? Nobody else had made her request it explicitly, so she really wasn’t sure what to request. Any version of her saying it just sounds more and more pathetic, to speak the words aloud would be embarrassing. 

“You want me to stay?” Harry offered, after some time, and she was grateful for it as she nodded, “Just in the room?” 

Her face feels warm as her eyes glance over to the other side of her bed, “It’s. . .it’s a big bed,” she told him, swallowing thickly, “You can lay down if you're tired.” 

Harry’s lips quirk into a tiny, halfway smile, and Y/N had seen that look enough to know some form of a taunt typically follows it, “Oh I see,” he began, lifting himself up onto her bed and crawling over her body to get to the side she offered, “Was this a ploy to get me into your bed? You could have just asked, Sweetheart, but I would have asked for dinner first.” 

or

Y/N finds out a secret and Harry finds a rat 

part 1

part 2

iii.

Y/N has never been so embarrassed.

The hike was her idea; granted, she’s not a big hiker to begin with, and she hardly believes the sneakers she wore were meant for more than casual ambling in a park — but she thought it could be fun. After being cooped up in her flat for a little over a week, she was desperate just to breathe in the fresh air and feel the sun on her skin. It was one thing to be locked away when the weather was bitter and uninhabitable, but it was finally getting warmer, and whispers of Spring were carried in the wind. An open window could only preclude her feelings of claustrophobia for so long before she needed to go outside.  

Since Harry could typically get Thomas to agree to things she’d never thought he might agree to before, he was the one she asked. However, due to the recent attempted kidnapping, even he seemed reluctant to the proposal and Y/N had imagined her plans had fallen through before they’d even truly been constructed. At least she did until Harry sent her a message a little past midnight the following night, with a link that directed her to a trail’s website. Would this be okay? His message read, and Y/N grinned so hard her cheeks were sore as she replied with “Yes!” ten times. 

Y/N is not one who would find joy in exerting herself but she was filled to the brim and gushing with an eagerness she hasn’t felt since being a child, the night before visiting a zoo. She did not for a second consider how sore she’d probably be, especially from the number of hills this trail included along the side of what wasn’t big enough to be a mountain but was certainly large enough to give the illusion. All she could focus on was the thought of the wind kissing her face and the sound of morning birds singing. Aching muscles be damned, she could just take a hot bath when they got back, and maybe she could persuade Harry to massage her feet if it was that bad. 

By the time Y/N woke up Friday morning, Harry was already in her kitchen preparing breakfast but that was hardly shocking. It was her second time witnessing him outside of a pressed suit and she couldn’t say that she was disappointed; Harry looked awfully cute in his hiking clothes. A hoodie that swallowed him up, athletic shorts pulled over black leggings, and a pair of bright red shoes that she could not imagine him plucking out of a store. A beanie was nestled over his head, but he had a hair clip locked around the edge of it, almost like he had it on standby in case he got too warm. 

He turned to face her, smiling warmly as he flipped a pancake, “I didn’t know if you had a water bottle, so I brought an extra one,” he greeted her, “And I bought some of those warm packs you activate by shaking in case it’s chillier than we anticipated.” 

“We need to get a stroller for your kitties so they can come too,” Y/N told him, as she hiked herself up on the barstool beside the counter, Harry working on the side adjacent to her. She rested her face against her fist, watching him putter around putting together the meal. There was something imminently gratifying about putting a man to work in her kitchen while she swung her legs and waited patiently to be fed, so she reveled in that feeling while he answered. 

“I actually do have a stroller,” he told her, “But since this is our first time, I thought it would be better to see the trail before bringing them.” 

With a sigh, Y/N agreed. Harry has brought them over three times since the first and Y/N enjoyed every second of it – he’d explained to her that as long as she doesn’t mind, he’ll bring them over often. This way he gets to spend extra time with them while he’s working and Y/N gets her animal fill as they meander throughout her flat, making it their second home. He’s even left them there overnight once, when he would be returning the following morning but wasn’t necessarily going home (their schedules make no sense to her, not even a little, and she wondered when the hell they ever slept), and Y/N really liked that. She woke up to Gremlin at her feet and Goose nestled against her breast beneath the blankets (and if she hadn’t been so sure that moving would stir them both, she would have taken a picture to send to him). 

They ate breakfast and Y/N pulled on an outfit she hoped would be multifunctional no matter what weather they would face or how much exerting herself would make her sweat. Even the walk to the parking garage lifts her with excitement, happy to finally be leaving the flat. 

“You’re awful chipper,” Harry remarked, following close behind her, his fingers looped around his keys, “Normally for this early in the morning, you’ve grumbled about something by now.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Of course I’m chipper,” she walked around to the passenger seat of the car, “I’m free for a little while! You forget that I’m fucking stuck in there until someone breaks me out, while you can come and go as you see fit, really.” She smiled at the thought of the sun hitting her face, “It’s going to be so nice today too – I can’t wait.” 

“Mm, it is going to be nice,” he agreed mildly, “I’ll keep you out for as long as I can, yeah? But I’m sure Thomas will be blowing my phone up.” He smiled gently, “Things are still. . .fresh.” 

Y/N buckled herself in, brows dipped, “Hm? Did you guys not catch the guy? I thought you did and that’s the only reason I’m being uncaged.” 

“We did,” Harry’s lips straightened out, a dubious glint flickered past his gaze before he snuffs it out, “For the most part.” 

“For the most part?” She repeated with a small sigh – she wasn’t in the mood for twenty questions, she just wanted him to be straightforward.

Harry hummed, “Yes, they found the “mugger” –  it was his son,” Y/N’s brows raised, “Both have been dealt with appropriately for now but of course, everyone is still concerned that this wasn’t just an isolated incident. Things are going to be. . .a little tighter lately, so I was surprised Thomas agreed to this in the first place, but I did push pretty hard.” 

She smiled and nudged his shoulder, “That’s why I like you,” she told him, “Dunno’ what you’re doing to bewitch him but keep doing it, I like doing things.” 

The day had started out so well; Y/N isn’t sure how Harry had found this trail but it was pretty. It started out as a gravel patch of parking lot with a big wooden sign that read Green Haven Trail in big, bold letters, and to the left of it, a small brick building housing a restroom. It had rained last night, so the air smelled of moist earth and morning dew, and it’s a scent that she believes she normally takes for granted. Right now she isn’t though – right now she feels it slip through her nares, down to her lungs. She was more than pleased that it isn’t humid or else each breath would feel wet, and her skin would feel sticky, and she thinks that would have made her sad. Her first time out of the flat in how long, only to be accosted by unpleasant weather? Surely, she’d just lock herself in her room at that point. 

Most of the trail was paved but there were clear sections deeper in, where people had broken off from the designated path and wore down the grass and foliage to create a new route. If she couldn’t see where this off-path trail led, then she wouldn’t have suggested they go near it, but she could make out that it guided them to a mini waterfall from a creak. And after the rain, she knew it would be overflowing and beautiful, so she suggested they go toward it with the best pleading gaze she could give him (though it certainly wasn’t necessary – she believes Harry is a man of strong will typically, but if she asks him for something he typically gives in pretty easy). 

For a moment he seemed hesitant but eventually agreed, so they went toward it, and Y/N marveled at the rocks, the surfaces altering from smooth to rough and jagged, how the water toppled over them dropping down into the large well of the creek. If the weather was just a little warmer she would suggest sticking her feet in but it was still a little too brisk for it. So she made a mental note of this place for mid-June when the hike would undoubtedly be miserable in the summer heat, but the best part of it would be sinking their feet into this well of cold water and kicking them as they cooled down and ate a snack. Y/N assumed she would be with Harry again because. . .well, she usually is with him, isn’t she? 

They stayed there for a while for a short break, since they’d been walking for about thirty minutes uphill at that point. Y/N’s legs were already tired and she was in the middle of trying to find an excuse for them to turn around and start making their way back before she was really tired – but there was no need. No, why would she need a reason for them to turn around when she unwittingly gives them one? 

They had to trek down a small hill to get within closer visual distance of the waterfall and search the creek with their gazes for any potential fish or tadpoles swimming around in the greenish water. Going downhill to get there, meant going uphill to return, and while it wasn’t steep there was a decent-sized slope. Several jutted pieces of stone and rock and root should have made it a relatively easy way back up. Yet somehow, when Y/N tries to balance the sole of her shoe against the curve of a rock, she loses her footing. Her body rocks face first into the dirt, and she knocks her knee against a stone and cuts up her palm from the tree root she’d been gripping onto. Before she could tumble all the way down to the creek, Harry placed his hands on her to keep her steady, one at her hip and the other between her shoulder blades, “Holy shit!” He cried out, his voice echoing in the empty woods, “Are you alright?” 

So now, they definitely had to turn back, because Y/N had dirt smudged on her face, a few leaves in her hair (though Harry did pluck those out for her while they walked), her knee was sore, and her palm was cut up. Y/N doesn’t cry but she wants to, not just because her knee aches, or her hand throbs, or the dirt makes her face feel gross and grimy. All of that she could deal with well enough. 

What she couldn’t deal with, was the fact that she fell in the first place, in front of Harry of all people. How embarrassing – god, she couldn’t stop thinking about it but she wanted to wipe it from her brain entirely and pretend it never happened. But Harry is Harry, there is no way that he would ever let this go without making a sly comment about it every now and then. Especially once she’s all patched up and he knew for sure she was okay. 

She kept replaying the moment in her head: the squawky sound that left her mouth, how dumb she must have looked as she scrambled to stop herself only for Harry to be the one to halt her movement. He probably thought she looked like an idiot – no, she knows he did because why wouldn’t he? If it had happened to anyone but her, Y/N would have found some humor in it, and maybe she was just a bad person but there were compilations of people falling on the internet for a reason. 

Under different circumstances, Y/N would avoid the bathroom at all costs because it seemed like a staff infection waiting to happen but she tried to get into this one, only to find it locked. So not only did she embarrass herself in front of Harry, she had to sit in the car for forty minutes, uncomfortable, her knee aching and her face dirty. At the realization, she felt like she really could cry then, but the only thing that stopped her was the potential for further embarrassment.

“It could have been worse,” Harry tried to soothe her once they were back in the car, “Had I not been there to save your life, you could be in the creek right now.” 

“Shut up, or I’ll shove you in a creek,” she grumbled, brows furrowed at him, “Didn’t you promise to return me unscathed? This is coming out of your paycheck.” He only chuckles at her. 

The drive home was uneventful, and so was the walk up to her flat. As soon as they get through the doors, Harry directs her to the bathroom and says he’d be in there in a moment with a first aid kit, and Y/N has no fight left to argue. She went in, avoided looking at her face, and plopped down right on the toilet seat, waiting patiently for him. Harry appeared, looking a little too cute out of his leggings, now only in shorts that rode up pretty high on his thigh. He’s got nice legs – Y/N’s been thinking about them often lately. 

First, he tends to her palm, flipping it over and pouting at the sight of it, “Your poor hand,” he muttered sympathetically, caressing the flesh just below her thumb, “Does it hurt?” 

Y/N is unsure if he’s mocking her with how sweet his voice was, but she doesn’t fuss over it – honestly, she kind of likes it, “Yeah, a little.” She replied and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

“Poor thing,” he reached inside the kit, “We’ll get you sorted.” 

After he cleaned it, then slathered it in the antibiotic ointment, and wrapped it up with gauze and a bandage, he got a washcloth wet. It took her a second to realize what he was about to do, until he was suddenly closer to her face than she expected, tenderly swiping away at the dirt smudged over her face. Y/N has trouble keeping her breathing even then. 

This is the closest she and Harry had been since the night they kissed, and she couldn’t keep her brain from conjuring memories of it. Especially when his lips were looking particularly soft today, and slick from whatever chapstick he was using, almost like they were begging for another mouth to press against them. The gentle curve of his cupid’s bow and the pout of his mouth supplicates for her lips to trap it between them. To relive last week, how eagerly he’d kissed her, how his hands had slid to her waist, how he squeezed her –

Honestly, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about it. She was skilled at acting indifferent to things like this and she’s certain Harry didn’t notice it was dawdling within her thoughts because he would have brought it up – but that didn’t mean it wasn’t. Every day, a few times a day, Y/N is suddenly accosted with a slew of images, all of which involve Harry's puckered mouth. 

Because she’d like to do it again – she wanted to do it again, but there was no way to just ask for it, was there? Not without being weird about it. At least that night they had been drinking, and if they really wanted to they could blame it on liquid loosening prior inhibitions. If Y/N was asking for it completely sober, then there was no turning back from that – then it was something they had to talk about and that’s difficult. Not to mention, she shouldn’t be canoodling with her bodyguards anyway. The time with Niall was a one-off, and she’d never had the urge or desire to do it again (well, maybe once or twice, but that was neither here nor there) – but she wanted it again with Harry. Honestly, she thinks she wants more than just the kiss with Harry. 

And they hadn’t even really discussed the first one yet! Why would they tack on a second kiss? 

With Niall, it was much easier; she sucked him off, and he came in her mouth, they laughed about it and then tried to finish the movie they were watching before both of them promptly fell asleep. When they woke up there was no awkward tension lingering in the air, she swatted him with a pillow so that he would get off the couch and go with her to a new cookie place as he’d promised. Life settled back in as normal, Y/N barely remembered what his cum tasted like after eating an iced sugar cookie, and that was that. 

But with Harry, the whole night persists in her memories. How he admitted to being jealous thinking about her with Niall, and how he wants to be her favorite guard. The taste of his tongue and the impression of his mouth pushed against hers. How he pressed his thumb into her chin and pulled her lips open wider for himself, how heady the feeling was, the caress of his fingers on her hips, her wrists, her jaw. Her cheeks warm when she thinks about crawling into his lap, how she felt him hard beneath her before he pulled away – before he stopped it from going any further. 

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder just how far it would have gone had he not withdrawn from her. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Harry murmured, and only then does Y/N realize that she’d been staring directly at him as he still carefully wiped away the dirt, “I’m getting shy.” 

Brows pinching toward each other, Y/N frowns at him, “You’re like three centimeters from my face, where the hell else am I supposed to look?” She praises herself for willing the words so quickly from her mouth, instead of floundering how she wanted to when she’d been caught gawking (Harry always teased her that she reverted to her extreme “brat-ish tendencies” once cornered and she continuously proved him right). 

Harry has a knowing smile that Y/N wants to flick off his face like he could read her mind through each of her pores. He always kind of had that look on him though, that would suggest he knew what Y/N was thinking and feeling before maybe even she did. It annoyed her more than anything. 

“You’re being rather rude to someone who saved a clumsy little thing like you from drowning in a creek.” He murmured, standing up from the spot he’d been kneeling before her and tossing the wet cloth into the sink with a wet slap. He holds one finger out to her, a silent command to stay put, and Y/N finds herself listening to him until he returns with a bottle of water. With that in one hand, he pulled open her medicine cabinet and retrieved the paracetamol, popping the cap open and shaking two into his palm, “You need to take these or your knee is going to be sore. Say ahhh,” he held them in his fingers, hovering them over her mouth. 

She scoffed, “My knee is already sore. Give me that, you dick,” she clasps her hands around his, swiping the pills and pushing them past her lips before grabbing for the bottle of water. 

“There you go,” he ignored her insult, “That’s a good girl – y’know, you’re a brat, but you listen well when you want to. Kind of like a fussy cat.” 

A flush of warmth ran from her face, down her throat, and across her chest – the praise, no matter how backhanded, was still praise and Y/N felt her veins twinkle with it. Harry doesn’t seem to notice how it affects her, and if he does, then he is kind enough not to be a pest for once and keep it to himself. He held out his hand for her to take, helping her lift off the seat, “You aren’t limping, which is good, but we’ll still ice it. If you show up to your parent’s house with a bruised knee and scratched-up hand, I’m sure it wouldn’t be appreciated.” 

The reminder makes her grimace – she’d almost forgotten about that. Adam was the first to tell her about it weeks and weeks ago, and then her father reminded her just last week, yet she let it slip her mind again. Willfully she lets it slip from her mind, neglecting the thought – it was always a little awkward meeting with everyone. When she was little, they would coo over her and how cute she was which she had enjoyed at the time, but she had long since passed the age of being cooed at because she was in a pretty dress. And when she was little, she could fuck off and play pretend somewhere with her cousins or by herself and nobody questioned anything because she was like 7 years old and barely knew how to divide numbers. 

Y/N longs for the solace of being little and not needing to be socially present during family events; life was much easier when she could check out and nobody cared. 

“Are you going with me?” Y/N inquired as she followed him out of the bathroom, tugging down the zipper of her jacket and wiggling it off her arms. 

“Hm?” 

“To the family thing,” she dropped the jacket in her hamper, leaving her in a sports bra but she thinks nothing of it while she waits for his response, “Were you the one going with me?” 

Harry pauses, if only for a brief second, and Y/N sees a look she’s never seen before flicker through his face before he’s smiling again, “Aw, cute! You want me to be there with you?” 

She did, for some reason, she felt like it would be better with him there. Adam and Niall always get pulled off at things like this, but Y/N felt like Harry might stay by her side for it. She had nothing to base this feeling on beyond just knowing it in her gut. 

And when she doesn’t grumble or call him an asshole for teasing her, Harry must realize she’s serious, because the gleam in his eyes softens to one that is gentle and pitying, “It won’t be me accompanying you, though I would love to,” he told her, “I’m wanted elsewhere that day.” 

She frowned at him, already feeling the whine bubble in her chest before he could finish his sentence, “Just tell them that you don’t want to do that and you want to do this instead.” 

“As much as the princess’s word is considered –” 

“Eat shit.” 

“ – I believe that request would be denied. Thomas wants me for a more delicate and potentially violent matter, so that’s where I’ll be.” He sighed, thumbing over his eyebrow, “Though you do manage to be delicate and violent as well, maybe I could ask for a trade.” 

Y/N flipped him off before plopping down on the couch, watching as he began to kick off his shoes at the doorway now that they were settling inside. For a fleeting moment, she wondered if the reason Harry wasn’t going was more than him being needed elsewhere but she couldn’t come up with good enough logic to back the claim. Unless he was the Harry from her childhood, and he was desperately trying to avoid a situation where that fact may be found out, but even that doesn’t seem like his speed. He was much too casual and unconcerned for her to think he’d go to that level just to keep up some weird little secret. 

That doesn’t mean she’s a hundred percent convinced, but she just dwells on it a little less. 

“It’ll be okay, you know,” Harry says after a while, as he’s opening up her windows, pulling the curtains open to let sunlight pour into her room; it glitters off her coffee table and places a glare over her tv, and the sweet chirp of birds still singing early in the morning fills her flat (along with the sound of cars driving below them but the morning traffic had slowed considerably by that point), “Just a few hours of family shit, and then you’ll be done. Can come home and take a shower and relax afterward.” Y/N follows him around the room as he goes to her other window, “It won’t be so bad. Maybe you’ll even have a little fun.” 

She doesn’t have it in her to fight him, “Yeah, maybe,” she offered quietly in return, leaning her head back and letting her eyes flutter closed, trying to ignore the throbbing in her knee, “It just feels weird to see them is all, and having nothing to show for the years that have passed since I’ve seen them last. Like. . .I dunno, I have to sit and listen to everyone else and their successes and I’m happy for them but I can’t help but. . .wish that I had something too. But all I’ve got is attempted kidnappings and a hobby that I haven’t perfected when I’ve got nothing but time to perfect it.” Y/N puffs a mirthless laugh. 

“Self-depreciation doesn’t look good on you,” he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth and he sounds closer than he was before but she keeps her eyes shut, “Why don’t you start selling your art?” 

That does make her peek an eye at him, “Listen, I know I’m having a little pity party, but I don’t need you being mean and adding to it.” 

“I’m not being mean,” he retrieved a package of frozen vegetables from her freezer before he made his way to sit down beside her, body turned so he faced her directly, “I’m giving you an idea. Your art is good, and all the comments people have made on it in class tell you how cute the things you draw are. So yeah, maybe they wouldn’t sell in some smarmy art gallery, but they would definitely make a cute sticker on a water bottle or a laptop case. And what’d you get your degree in, wasn’t it business related? Marketing?” Y/N’s face pinches up. 

“So?” 

“So put two and two together, Darling, you’re smart,” he told her, “You make cute stickers and you have some understanding of marketing – start selling them online!” 

It. . .wasn’t the worst idea she’s ever heard. The people in the class had called her drawings cute, even the instructor had told her they were charming in a cutesy way. If other people liked them – if Harry really thought that other people would like them enough to stick them somewhere they had to look often – that would give her something to do, wouldn’t it? Something to focus on. . .something that could entirely be her own, and didn’t have to be a question of her safety, with no worry about getting her from point A to point B, and her name wouldn’t be out there. She could do it all under a different name! Loads of Etsy shops and the like don’t have the artist’s real name at all. 

It could just be her own little thing, and if it didn’t work, she could scrap the idea and pretend it never happened. But it was something. . .it could be hers. 

“Hm.” That is all she replied, despite the cogs clicking and turning in her brain. 

Harry sighed, plopping down in the space beside her, “I reckon you just like being difficult,” he told her, stretching one long leg out so it was sitting beneath the table, “Hm? I think you like trying to rile me up.” 

“Maybe.” 

                                                           .                                .                            .

Y/N has been having nightmares. 

As a child, she used to get them a lot. Sometimes they could be vivid; feel as real as a memory and Y/N would have trouble separating what was real and what was a dream. It was an unfortunate byproduct of a burdened subconscious, or at least that’s what the child psychologist told Thomas. And he then took a far more strict and tender approach to isolate her from the world of her parent’s work, which Y/N never really understood. Why wait until a child begins to show emotional distress before keeping them from something potentially emotionally distressing? 

They come and go, depending on the current state and status of her life. Times of stress brought them prolonged and heavy, bogging down her brain like waterlogged branches in a typically dry terrain. A monsoon of shadowy figures, hushed low voices, and crimson puddles. Trying to close her eyes but they’re being held open, trying to move through dense air with gelatinous limbs, trying to scream but her voice just barely leaves her throat. It’s nothing but frustration bubbling to her boil through her veins in the worst way, and when she finally does wake up, it lingers for a few minutes as she acclimates to being conscious.  

Once she has one, she’ll have them almost nightly until the problem is addressed or they eventually wither away. She doesn’t bring them up much – Niall and Adam know about them, but Thomas isn’t aware, though she doesn’t think he’d actually care. And she isn’t sure if her parents were even aware of her first round of them when they had concerned the nannies and guards enough to report them to Thomas. If they did know, they never brought it up. 

So she guesses it made sense that nobody alerted Harry to their existence if they were to ever occur while he was there.

They had started happening two weeks ago, shortly after the attempted kidnapping. It was scary, though it didn’t get very far, knowing that someone could find her location so easily was worrisome for future endeavors. And had this guy been more tactful and maybe a touch more forceful, then the situation could have gone horrendously bad – she could have been in a lot of trouble, and when her mind starts wandering to what could have been waiting for her. . .it’s awful. 

For the most part, they had been pretty tame. Y/N wakes up disoriented and groggy around 4 AM, she wanders out to the living room to find whoever was there that night, and if they were awake she’d make them both tea and stay up for a while. Niall was there the first night, and when she suddenly appeared in front of him with her hand stretched out, holding a mug to him, he gave her a knowing look, “Hm? Nightmare?” She nodded, and he made room for her on the couch, moving his computer, his iPad, or whatever he had brought over to keep himself busy for the night, “Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head, “Fine, then you’re g’na have to listen to me rant about this fucking series I’m watching because. . . .” 

Adam asks fewer questions and most of the time is asleep when she wanders out but when her door clicks open he’s pulled from his sleep with a snort, “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Mm,” he would hum, “Go back to bed then, I’m not ready to socialize.” 

“I’ll just be up for a little, you can stay asleep,” she’d assure him, but she didn’t want to be alone, so she would make her tea and then sit on her feather blue recliner (that she was surprised he isn’t inhabiting) with her phone. Adam would say he’d stay up with her but make no move to change his position, so he always ended up back to sleep anyway. 

Bill and Martha were usually asleep too when she wandered out, but they were never ones for much conversation anyway. They would open their eyes, see she is in no imminent danger, then go right back to bed and that was that (nothing and nobody could make her feel more like a little kid than those two, and Thomas when she does see him). She would putter around her kitchen quietly, but take her tea into her room, wrapped up in her blankets and clicking through Youtube videos on her telly, comforted by the knowledge she isn’t alone in the flat. 

Some days there is nobody there with her at night, maybe an extra guard lingering outside the building, but no one inhabits her living room. Those nights Y/N is suddenly confronted with the harsh reminder that she lives in a constant state of fear, gnawing at her lip, jumping at every creak or click that echoed against the walls. It makes her feel like an idiot so she doesn’t bring it up to anybody, that on a regular night being alone can be weird, but on a night she’s had a bad dream it could be weird and long. It was stupid and made her feel like a child.

Tonight, for whatever reason, the dream was a lot rougher than it had been. While the prior nightmares were more nondescript things and hazy situations that she could just tell were bad but did not have comprehensible images of – this was much more lucid. Every touch felt like a burn against her skin, the hand cupped over her mouth and squeezed her nose shut stealing her breath away, the heart racing panic struck her fast, and her fingertips felt numb. She was thrashing, her throat sore from screaming, she needed help – she needed it right then, but there was nobody there. She was alone, she’s always been alone, she’s never safe, never, never, never –

“Y/N!” 

Her eyes split open, the beat of her heart pounding through her chest and ringing through her ears, and her trembling hands stay still at her sides. It took her a few silent, panicked moments before she realized she’d been woken up from a dream, staring at the figure who slowly, but surely, becomes Harry through her bleary gaze. Almost instantaneously relief floods through her, and icy spikes that dotted her vessels are now replaced with warmth, melting them. Y/N isn’t sure if the comfort is brought by the fact that she knows she’s awake so much as it is brought by seeing Harry – he usually showed up in her dream, and dream her was always reassured by his presence. His face usually meant whatever was plaguing her was finished – whatever shadowy, dark figure digging their nails into her arm dissipated. 

It was not until Harry spoke her name again that Y/N finally realized she’d been dreaming but she was awake now. Her eyes burn and her cheeks are wet – she’d been crying? Her bones feel stiff and creaky as she pushes herself from the mattress, pressing her knuckles against her eyes to try and rub the sleep from them. “You were having a bad dream?” Harry’s voice is low, his tone gentle, like he was creeping up on a resting bear and was worried to startle it. 

Y/N nodded wordlessly. The most he gets from her is a small hum as she tries to organize herself and her thoughts; she isn’t used to someone being here as she wakes up, staring at her warily, so she tries to force herself to speed it up. She didn’t want to worry him. And now that she thinks about it, when was the last time he’d spent the night here? He probably didn’t even know she had dreams like this to begin with. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry pressed carefully, and there was a small thud of four feet landing on the bed. She looked over to see Goose pad over to her, rubbing up against her torso and finding a spot in her lap before a low rumble of purrs overcame her. 

“What time is it?” Y/N inquired. 

Harry looks at his watch, “2 AM.” 

“Too late to talk about it,” she murmured, though she still felt shaken up. Her hands tremble as she smoothes them down Goose’s back, searching for more comfort in the soft fur, a wobbly rise and fall of each breath from her chest, “Was I being loud?” 

Harry gave her a small, empathetic smile, “Just a little,” he told her, “We could hear you,” it took her a second to realize we meant him and the cats, “And Goose was sitting outside of your door. At first I thought maybe you were awake, talking on the phone or something but you started yelling for help.” 

Grimacing, she frowns, at the image of Harry clambering to get up and burst through her door, overwrought with worry and his adrenalin spiking. His job – the whole reason he is here – is to keep her safe. So how horrifying is it to hear that one objective may be compromised in the middle of the night, on a floor way too high for someone to have snuck through a window?  “I’m sorry, that was – that’s probably scary.” 

“Yeah, it definitely wasn’t my favorite experience,” he agreed, “But I’m glad I could wake you up from it.” She scratched between Goose’s ears, feeling warm that the cat was concerned enough to sit outside her door once she heard her. She’s sure Gremlin is still blissfully sleeping wherever he was originally. “Well, I’ll let you go back to sleep. Call me if you need anything.” 

Y/N had thought that she was feeling better – she was awake, and she knew she was awake, so there was no reason for the same rimy panic that had been suffocating her to return at the mention of Harry leaving. Nor was there a reason for her to reach out and grab his wrist before he could get too far, a pitiful refusal pulled from her lips that feel sore and dry, she’s sure from her own teeth. Harry was safe – he couldn’t leave this soon after she’d woken up, she still needed a little bit – still wanted to be near him, and to hear him talk or even just sit silently at his side. 

But how could she voice this? Nobody else had made her request it explicitly, so she really wasn’t sure what to request. Any version of her saying it just sounds more and more pathetic, to speak the words aloud would be embarrassing. 

“You want me to stay?” Harry offered, after some time, and she was grateful for it as she nodded, “Just in the room?” 

Her face feels warm as her eyes glance over to the other side of her bed, “It’s. . .it’s a big bed,” she told him, swallowing thickly, “You can lay down if you're tired.” 

Harry’s lips quirk into a tiny, halfway smile, and Y/N had seen that look enough to know some form of a taunt typically follows it, “Oh I see,” he began, lifting himself up onto her bed and crawling over her body to get to the side she offered, “Was this a ploy to get me into your bed? You could have just asked, Sweetheart, but I would have asked for dinner first.” 

“Fuck off,” she grumbled, but it held little spite to it. Y/N wiggles back down beneath her covers, and Goose – disturbed but never grouchy – walks to the side, waits for Y/N to find a position she’s content in, and then returns. Y/N lays on her side so Goose tucks herself along her belly as she likes to, curling her face into her paws. Gremlin, who must have finally roused from his own blissful slumber, appeared on the bed at Harry’s feet before taking a seat, his tail undulating behind himself, waiting patiently for Harry to snuggle beneath the blankets. 

“Had I known you slept on a cloud every night, I would have asked for this sooner,” Harry said quietly, breaking through the silence of the room, only previously broken by the whirring of her fan above them, “It smells good in here too.”

Y/N watches him closely, as his head is against her pillow. Nobody else has ever laid in her bed before, and Y/N only ever sleeps on the left side of it, so she’s sure the right feels just as it did when she bought it. It’s weird to see someone there – but it only feels natural that it would be Harry, for whatever reason. Among the cotton, rosy pink duvet cover, in a long sleeve undershirt, his body having disappeared up to his shoulders snuggled beneath the comforter. He looks cute, especially when he turns to face her, and gives her a big closed-mouth smile that she told him in the past made him look like a pleased frog.

“You’re comfortable?” Y/N inquired and once Harry nodded, she finally closed her eyes again, “That’s good.” 

Some time passes. Y/N is unsure how long, but she’s almost certain that she’s fallen asleep until Harry's voice, syrupy and smooth as it always is, slithers into her ear, “I know you don’t want to talk about it and that’s fine,” he murmured, “But I just want you to know, I would never let anything or anyone hurt you. Never.” . 

She falls asleep easily then. 

                                                               .                           .                       .

Y/N used to have nightmares when she was younger, Harry had vague memories of that.

“I had a nightmare that a bad guy tried to kill me again,” she told him casually one day when they were on the swings, like it was the most normal conversation in the world, “It really sucked. They were super mean.” 

“Did you get away?” Harry remembered being concerned, even as a child. Y/N was younger than him, not by much, but enough that he’d felt a sense of responsibility for her. Harry hated his bad dreams, so he empathized with her plight. Whenever he had a bad dream, his mum usually came into his room and comforted him, but Y/N told him once that her mum didn’t like being woken up in the middle of the night for something not urgent. If she had a bad dream and woke up scared but the sun wasn’t out, she would hug her teddy tight and will herself back to sleep – that’s what she had told him, at least. 

With a shrug of her small shoulders, she kicked her legs back and forth in smooth glides, “Dunno’, I woke up before he could.” 

He was concerned then and he was concerned now. 

When Y/N offered him the spot next to her, Harry didn’t hesitate for even a moment. If she was scared enough to stuff away that prideful, bratty side of her to request it, then Harry wouldn’t make her second guess herself. Instead, he tried to make it as normal as possible, with a small tease as he crawled in beside her. He’d resigned himself to the idea of staying awake until he knew for sure she was fast asleep. It took ten minutes or so, but eventually, her measured, even breaths and sleepy sighs lull him into his own slumber. 

Harry wakes two or three hours later, warm. Warmer than he had been when he fell asleep, which he wouldn’t have questioned if not for how icy cold Y/N typically kept her room. For a brief moment, he thinks that maybe her fan shut off and he made the conscious decision to get up and turn it back on for her, but when he moves, he feels a weight on his arm that stopped him. A weight that is different from that of Goose or Gremlin. 

Once he opened his eyes, Harry found that Y/N was snuggled up against him. 

It wasn’t in a sweet, movie-like way as things like this typically went in stories and movies. It was in a very Y/N-like way though – her left leg thrown across his hip, her body flush against him, her face halfway jammed in his chest and her arm stretched over his neck; she’s about one sleepy shuffle away from smothering him with her bicep if she moved just right. Harry thinks it’s very telling that she does not sleep with someone often because she had somehow rolled herself all the way over to his side when there had been a good distance between them to start. 

Carefully, he began to reshape her, moving her arm from over his throat. Harry had been making a conscious effort to be gentle so she stayed asleep, but a small grumble lifted into the air around them that sounds close to “Stop it.” but when Harry says her name, there is no response. Instead, she wiggles her shoulders, her arm finding a place around his waist instead, and scooted closer.

Tch, he rolled his eyes but he could feel a fond smile pulling at his cheeks, She’s even a brat in her sleep. 

Harry lets himself enjoy it for a little while. The warmth of Y/N pressed to his side, the peach-scented lotion still permeating from her skin, the feel of each rise and fall from her chest as she took a breath. His insides feel cotton-soft and melty, he traces circles in the center of her back and waits patiently for her to fall deeper into her head. Once she does, he tries again to carefully remove her from the glued position she’d been in, because while he likes being cuddled close to her, he knew she would be mortified if she woke up. 

This time she goes easily, letting him lie her arm at her side before sliding his hand beneath her thigh, attentively guiding it off of his hip. Y/N stretches, and turned away from him, her arms sliding around a pillow and hugging her face against it. What a cuddly little thing, Harry thinks, she’s probably searching for something (or someone) to put her arms around the whole night. It makes his heart twist in his chest, a weird mix between an ache and a yearning for her. He wondered if these bad dreams would disappear if she always had someone there to cuddle to her body, like an oversized stuffy. 

The idea of it has a pout forming on his lips. Y/N, in the time he’s known her, is driven heavily by physical affection that she is not receiving often. She may grouse when Adam touches her shoulder when he reaches over her head to get in the cabinet, but she leans into his hand. If Niall is around, chances are Y/N is touching him in some way, either with her legs across his lap, or their hips side by side (which. . .Harry has no right to feel an ugly twinge in his chest any time he sees it but that doesn’t stop it from happening). Martha wasn’t the soft type, but Harry had walked in on Y/N leaning against the pillow Martha held to her body while they watched the telly. When Harry had come to her room in a panic, just to see for himself that she was okay (after Otto’s botched kidnapping attempt), she melted against his knuckles that he couldn’t help but stroke against her cheeks. 

Harry had met her parents several times – they were. . .kind as they could be, with what they do, but they were not the nurturing type. They were cool and distant, and even though Harry knows they love their daughter, and talk sweetly, they just didn’t seem like the type to cuddle and coddle. And instead of growing an aversion to touch, she grew too long for it, even in small doses, even from her bodyguards. Where else could she get it? Harry is certain if she went out with her friends she would be touchy and clingy, flopped over them in some way, shape, or form. 

Gremlin moves relatively little with the change in positions, and Goose lets out an annoyed huff before following Y/N’s body, snuggling up against her back. It was almost disgustingly cute how much Goose enjoyed her girl time with Y/N; even though she was the less fickle of the two, she really didn’t warm up that easily to people but with Y/N, it only took a couple of days before she was sleeping in her lap. Harry thinks that not only are cats a good judge of character, but they seek out people who need healing, like little furry psychotherapists that say nothing but do plenty. Where he would normally be a bit jealous, he was glad that Goose had chosen Y/N to snuggle with and love on her. 

Harry sighs to himself. It’s only a matter of time before Y/N realizes that she’s been right all along about knowing him, he was just holding his breath and waiting for it. In his head, when he’d started this, the idea of keeping it all a secret from her seemed easier. There would be no need to go into the details of why he left, to relive any of it, to divulge what he had done, or to break his promise to Thomas, to his father, to her father. He could go on with her like they were two strangers and his past didn’t matter. And Harry doesn’t know why it is so important to him that she didn’t think the sweet boy he was turned into the man he is today; it felt as though it broke the mirage of normalcy his childhood had there for a little while. If the image Y/N held in her head of him was altered, it would pull at his stomach and tug around his heart. The boy she knew was good, not a drop of blood on his hands – the man she knew now had hands covered in the murk and filth of gang politics, rivalries and wars, drugs and guns. 

To keep the two mutually exclusive brought him more comfort. 

But Y/N is perceptive and she recognized him almost immediately. As smart as she was, and as sneaky as she could be, he had a feeling deep in his gut that she would be seeking answers at her parent’s house. It would be easier if Harry wasn’t there too, so she wouldn’t have to sneak around him to do it. And if she finds out. . .well, Harry has accepted that it might happen and he could only hope that she isn’t too angry with him. In the grand scheme, it has changed very little of their dynamic. Harry is a completely different person than he was when he left this place – when he left her. 

His biggest regret, looking back at it, was leaving her alone. Even before this title, when they were just kids playing, he always kind of felt like her unofficial bodyguard. Or even just a companion for her – she didn’t have many other friends, and for whatever reason, both of their parents (or more so his parents and Thomas) thought it was a fine idea to just have them play with one another. Harry thinks it would have been a one-time thing when his father was first getting heavily involved with them, however from what he had heard at the time, Y/N had requested him. 

Or maybe requested was a strong word. He supposes the better way of phrasing it was when Harry's father told him that the little friend he made the week prior asked, “Where is Harry? Is he coming to play?” Which was a request enough for Thomas to invite him to a park that day. They saw each other pretty much weekly after that, depending on what was happening or the state of affairs the organization was in. Actually, Harry doesn’t even think Y/N remembers that much – he had a slightly bigger involvement in her life than he thinks she realizes. But when he speaks to Y/N about her childhood (or more, when she brings up a random anecdote), he finds that she doesn’t recall quite a few things about it. Like her brain had packed it away in storage boxes and stuffed it up in the attic – he’d once read that memory loss was an intrinsic, almost instinctual survival skill. Anything she deemed emotionally traumatic, she may have just conveniently booted from her head, and that. . .well, that might have been most of her years as a kid. 

If he knows anything about her, he knew that she would be upset with him initially but he could only hope she moved past it. Harry would have loved to go with her to her family event, even if she found out with him there, then they could at least discuss it immediately or on the car ride home instead of her stewing over it. But Thomas and Garrison had pulled him aside for different matters – the ones he had described as much more violent than a dinner with a ton of members in a gang, surprisingly. 

There might be a mole. That’s what Garrison had told him privately, that he didn’t trust Otto was in this alone; that nobody just knows where Y/N’s location is, barely anyone knows where she lives and this was an outlet mall 40-ish minutes away. It was just too convenient that Otto would know where she was without there being someone to tell him or some way of knowing. So everyone was under a microscope: Adam, Niall, Martha, Bill, and even some of the new people – Kai, Charlie, Betty, Rebecca. Harry understood why all of these people were on the list, but – 

“Why not me?” He inquired, brows dipped, “I appreciate that I’m not, but I don’t understand why exactly.” 

“You’ve been around since she was a kid,” he’d reminded Harry like he didn’t know, “There will always be a little more trust between us with you than the others. We know you wouldn’t let anything happen to her and you wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your family.” 

So while Y/N was with her family, he would be preoccupied snooping in places he probably doesn’t belong. It feels wrong to spy on the other bodyguards like this, and even the newbies; he feels guilt trickle through his chest when he is flicking through files of them. But he knew it had to be done. . .that Y/N’s safety was the top priority, even if it meant potentially betraying the trust of his colleagues. 

He’s worried about what he might find. He’s worried about how Y/N would react if it was anyone close to her. 

Worry soaks his brain, weighs it heavy, and drags his eyelids closed so he would stop watching the back of her sleeping head. He needed to sleep – maybe he should have kept her tucked against his side, cozy and warm because he’s sure he could have fallen right back to sleep then. He already knew he would spend at least ten more minutes contemplating what the next few weeks could bring them. The last time he’d had a little bit of trouble falling back asleep in her flat was after they kissed. 

That kiss. . .Harry’s cheeks feel hot thinking about it. He could still feel her against his mouth if he focused hard enough; the taste of her tongue, how soft her lips were, the way she felt in his lap. He could also remember how embarrassing he’d been coming into her room saying he was jealous, which is the only part of the night he wants to forget. They probably needed to talk about it – when he’s speaking, and Y/N’s staring at his mouth, he feels like he should bring it up, but the words always stick to the back of his throat like honey. 

It was inappropriate, Harry shouldn’t have agreed to do it but Y/N was so cute asking him and he’s human, after all. She wanted to kiss and Harry loved kisses and how could he deny her of such a simple pleasure in life? Especially when she said she didn’t get to do it often? It would have been criminal for him to refuse her! And Harry may participate heavily in unlawful, corrupt things, but he was no bloody monster – his job (in part) was to make Y/N happy, and if a kiss was what did that then so be it. 

(At least this is what he convinces himself.) 

Thinking about it either does two things for him: makes him hard, or gives him soft, twinkling feelings in his stomach. Thankfully, tonight it was the latter, so he revels in the sentiment and finds himself drowsy once again (he’d worked himself up enough that he felt wide awake which would not do – they still had a few hours to sleep and he wanted to make use of it). There is comfort in knowing that if Y/N starts to have her nightmares again, he’s right beside her – he wondered if he’d ever be able to be at her flat without wanting to be next to her.

What he said before she fell asleep, he meant – he wouldn’t let anyone or anything hurt her, and that includes a shitty dream. 

                                                              .                          .                          .

The gathering comes quicker than Y/N would have liked, but she figured it was better than the worry of it lingering like a gloomy cloud over her. Y/N had woken up that morning with a sort of weird relief tied into her anxiety; a premature peace was brought on by the fact the day was here and she was one step closer to getting it over with. No matter how unpleasant she would find it, most of these people were family, and if not family, then held a deep-seated, often fear-induced respect for her parents. It wasn’t like anyone would be blatantly mean to her or quiz her too hard on what she was doing, why she was doing it, where she was doing it, because. . .well, wouldn’t that make them look a touch suspicious? These sorts of questions would only be acceptable from her grandparents and that’s if they could talk about something other than how hard it is to use the bathroom the older they get. 

Y/N kept reminding herself of this in the hours leading up to the party and it made her feel much better. They were doing this because her grandparents were coming in from Dublin, where they had settled after passing the torch to her parents (neither was from Ireland, but both were drawn to the lush green hills and a seemingly endless supply of Guinness which is all they could wish for in their old age). Everyone would be much more intrigued by them than they would be by her – she felt silly for getting so worked up over going. Was it not a little self-absorbed to think everyone would want to know what she was doing?  Who gave a shit about what was going on with her besides a handful of other people? 

She had told this line of thinking to Niall who would be accompanying her to the party. “That’s awfully pessimistic but if that’s what makes you feel better then yeah, they’ll probably be focused on what your grandparents are chatting about. They’ve got some brutal fucking stories, but your Nan is so cute, you don’t expect her to be telling them.” 

It’s true; her Nan wears bright-colored cardigans and keeps her hair styled neatly in feather white curls. She knits, sews, and bakes cookies. When she was in town while Y/N was a child, she would take her (bodyguard-less, because “If something goes wrong, I’ll take care of it,”) to feed ducks in the park, or to pick out yarn for a blanket. Very normal, Nan-like things, so you really wouldn’t have guessed that she used to shoot people’s feet if they betrayed the family. 

The weather was much warmer today so Y/N wore a dress – her mum and Nan liked her in dresses, and though Y/N had a love-hate relationship with the garment, she’d like to make them both happy. A light blue, patchwork material that came just above her knees, with loose puffy short sleeves and a square neckline. Niall gave her a mocking gasp when she walked out in it, “I was half expecting to see you in sweats and a tank top, I never see you all dressed up.” 

“Because I’ve been on house arrest, dick,” she retorted, pulling her socks over her feet. 

With a snort, he pulled his phone out, “Harry’s g’na be so fucking jealous he didn’t see you in a dress.” 

“Huh?” Y/N slid her left foot into her shoe (the mary jane like shoe but was lacking the buckle that really made it a mary jane), “Why would he care?” 

“Because you look cute and he’s a sucker for you looking cute,” Niall says it like it’s obvious, confusion reworking his face into a confused frown, “He coos over like every cute thing you do.” 

“He’s just teasing.” 

A scoff leaves him, “Whatever you say – now smile for the camera.”  

Y/N smiled nice, big, and pretty, her head tilted dramatically and her middle finger stuck out toward him. It is the opposite of a deterrent for the blonde, who chortles as he takes rapid-fire pictures from varying angles, muttering something about, “See how you like it when this one goes to your Nan.” After the pictures are taken, she stands and smacks his arm lightheartedly. She wondered if Niall had actually sent it to Harry and her suspicions were confirmed just as soon as they got in the car to leave.

I can’t believe you’ve had such a cute dress and never told me or Goose, you know how much she loves dresses. She’s going to be so hurt.

The memory of Goose rolling around in a few of her dresses (and other various items of clothing but mostly her dresses) when Y/N was going through her closet (in a fit of pure boredom), plants itself into her brain. It makes her smile, even though she knew she’d be removing remnants of tortoiseshell fur off the fabric; she just wanted to scent her and all of her things. Harry told her Goose was in the midst of trying to adopt her but the paperwork is hard for a cat so it’d been taking some time. 

Rolling her eyes, she let her thumbs dart around the keyboard. 

Don’t use the cat as an excuse, pervert

The drive isn’t as awful and damning as she thought it might feel; it’s about 30 or so minutes out from where she stays depending on what traffic is like and Niall is on some soapbox about a drama he’s currently watching. She watches as the cityscape changes to suburbia, and from suburbia closer to the countryside. Not the house on stilts beside a river and a boat beside the car countryside, but the smarmy, affluent kind – where it wasn’t really countryside, but there were acres upon acres of land to own. The trees they pass are a blur of brown branches speckling with green as they shift to Spring, and bushes that never lost their green, to begin with.  

Anxiety still bubbles in her belly but more from the prospect of seeing people she hasn’t seen in a while, than it was from being worried they’d ask how she was doing. Because she realized she could A. Always lie, and B. Harry did give her a good idea the other week about opening some form of online shop. She’d started laying the groundwork for it down, so she could at the very least talk out of her ass about what she was doing. That was if anybody asked – she wouldn’t just bring it up on her own. 

Y/N finds that she just needs to tap into that part of herself she uses with her friends when she is able to go out with them. The part of her that completely erases any possibility that she has a life outside of what they were doing at that moment; narrowly avoiding questions that probe too deeply into her day-to-day, steering the conversations toward the person she was talking to and their life. Everyone likes to talk about themselves if you show you’re willing to listen, Y/N found that out relatively quickly. 

Her parents’ house, much like them, is gaudy and extravagant and too big. It’s a pretty place, but she just doesn’t necessarily see the need for columns lining the stairs leading up to the house, or the large brass lion knocker on the front door. The chandelier in the foyer when you first enter is about a thousand crystals that cast glittering shadows along the slate grey walls. From the foyer, directly in front of the door is a bifurcated staircase, and beneath either set of stairs splitting off from the main row, there was an entryway to the kitchen and a sitting area, both just on the side of too big. She could already see people moving around in the kitchen and could tell that most people were in the backyard where the majority of this would be taking place. 

This wasn’t the house she grew up in so there was no personal attachment to the walls, the floors, or the doorways. She doesn’t stop to linger around a spot on the wall she remembered being measured against when she was little, nor does she see little mirages of a small her running around the halls in a moment of nostalgia. Y/N walks through the foyer, her shoes clicking against the hardwood as she makes her way to the backyard. 

There were a lot of people to greet and she was feeling overwhelmed, but nobody noticed (nor seemed to care) about her arrival. It made it easy to slink around, seeking out her grandma who she knew would be sitting beneath one of the tarps they had set up shielding away the blinding son. She was in the middle of speaking to a group of people, so Y/N was going to stand and wait patiently off to the side, but her eyes flickered over, a smile broke out over her face, and she waved her closer, “Is that who I think it is?” Y/N lowered to hug her, “God, you’re looking like an adult! Where the hell is your grandfather, someone call the lazy sod over.” 

It was easy with her like it always was. Y/N spoke to her for a while, and hugged her granddad when he made his way over, (“Is your hair longer? Looks longer – you know, your mother had long hair when she first met your dad, like down to her bum, it was ridiculous! We used to beg her to get it cut, we thought it’d get trapped in a door.”). She spoke to them both briefly, and they told her they wanted to plan a trip where she came to Ireland for a visit, and she agreed immediately. Her Nan cooed and doted over her for a moment, pinching her cheek and murmuring something about her needing to sleep more, “I can tell you’re tired, you get that same look your dad gets. Why aren’t you sleeping? Is your mattress comfortable?” 

Y/N thinks, if her life was slightly different, these questions might annoy her but she revels in them. No matter how old you get, it’s nice to have someone worry over you a bit; to not see Y/N often but to know when she looks tired, to want to know why she isn’t sleeping, to wonder if it is her mattress. This is the kind of normal worry, about her sleeping habits, or how she’s eating, or if she’s happy – not about rivals and strangers to her that feel contempt for her parents but somehow translate that to hurting her. 

“We’ll talk later,” her Nan promised her, swatting her bum and giving her a small push, “Go mingle with your family, they’re missing you. And find your parents, tell them to stop working and come pamper me, I haven’t seen either of them for more than ten minutes.” 

She listens (her grandma is not someone you ignore orders from) and mingles. Y/N feels increasingly stupider for being so worried because really, nobody cares what she’s doing now, they mostly want to chat and reminisce over memories from years ago. She’s happy to listen, to laugh, to avoid any segues that might lead to delving into her life or opening a door where that might be a topic. Even if it was, she wondered if everyone just knew not to interrogate her – everyone is too worried about upsetting her parents to dig too deep into her shit. For all they know she could be doing under-the-cuff shit for them that nobody but she knew about (she isn’t but she could definitely could be – they aren’t above doing shifty things like that). 

Eventually, she did find her parents and it was. . .as it always was. They almost seemed like they were mid-meeting, which she hadn’t known, but all talked among themselves and the several people sitting beneath the stone gazebo (besides the pond they had built, with fish swimming around in it and a small waterfall because of course they had that) once she appeared, “Hi,” she greets unceremoniously, “Nan says stop working and go dote over her.” 

“Of course she did,” her mom smiled brightly, “Come here and hug me – where’d you get this dress? I love it, I’d be wearing that if I was just a few years younger.” 

“Try a decade,” her father teased, reaching over to squeeze her arm, “How’s my girl, huh? You all,” he turned to the others, “Go ahead and socialize, we’ll spend some time with our daughter.” 

They talk for a while, they’re the only ones inquiring about her life, and what she’s doing, and as she speaks it only then settles in her brain that they’ve got no clue. Y/N always imagines Thomas being puppeteer’d by her parents, doing as they say, but she forgets that for the most part, they do give him a fair amount of autonomy. Only relatively big notions (like her going to university) are discussed as a group. They do know that she’s being confined to her flat and they at least have the decency to  appear like they feel bad. 

“Once things settle,” her mum had patted her knee, “Things will be better, and you’ll be able to go out more. There’s. . .something going on right now, it’s better to air on the side of caution. Especially after what happened.” 

“Yeah, I get it,” she doesn’t. . .she tries her best to though, from their perspective, “Figure it out quick though, I want to go loiter at a mall or something soon.” 

She did end up telling them about her plan with art – after she told them about the art classes, which they seemed only vaguely aware of. Y/N went into it, about the cutesy drawings, about an online store, and they nod and say things like, “That sounds nice, Honey,” which is precisely what she expected. Something gentle, slightly dismissive, like they’re listening to a 12-year-old get overly enthused about her hobby. It was nice to talk about it with someone other than Harry though, even if she was certain they were only half listening. 

Her mother is the one to bring Harry up, sipping from her glass of wine, “Hm? He’s your newest guard is he not? How’s it going?” 

“It’s good,” she shrugged her shoulders, “He’s nice,” I kissed him the other week, “And he’s got two really cute cats that he brings over,” he slept in my bed the other night because I’m having horrible nightmares – do I look tired to you? Nan says I look tired, that’s probably why, “Yeah, it’s fine. Has he said anything?” 

Her father cleared his throat, “From what Thomas has said, he does well at all aspects of his job,” he gave a tight-lipped smile, and there’s. . .a look there, in his face, that caught Y/N’s attention, “Which is always good to hear, when we’re trusting someone with you.” 

“He does kind of remind me of someone,” her lips move before she can really think it through, bringing it up, but her dad’s disposition had changed ever so slightly – something that Y/N wouldn’t have noticed had she not been trying to read them the entire conversation, “I used to spend time with someone when I was little, who was named Harry. He just disappeared one day though.” 

As soon as her mother opened her mouth to respond, her father cut her off, with a smooth, almost immediate precision, “Hm, I think I remember him,” he reached for his drink from the table, “But he and his family moved quite a while ago, I believe. There was a company in Australia I believe, that wanted to hire him. That is if I’m remembering correctly.” 

Y/N thinks if her father had answered any other way, or even just slightly differently, she wouldn’t have questioned it. Maybe she would have finally given up, and let it go because even if she did know Harry from when she was younger he clearly didn’t want her to remember him for a reason. If she had anything else to do with her time, she probably wouldn’t have even cared that much to bring it up past asking Harry if she knew him from somewhere. 

But it was weird how he’d answered her. It was too fast – and how do you think you remember somebody, but go on to explain they moved to Australia? Plus, from what Y/N has gathered through bits and pieces she hears from her guards and from what she remembered when she was little, people don’t just stop working for her parents. They don’t just go on their merry way unless they are exiled, and even then, the offense would have to be pretty minor to come out unscathed. 

Once you’re in this world, you’re in it. There’s no dipping a toe in and deciding it’s too cold; the only option is to sink into it, down to the shoulders, and embrace it when the water lapping at your neck is finally warmer than the air blowing around above it. 

“Ohh, okay,” she plays nice and dumb, smiling gently, “Well that settles that then. I was just wondering.” 

The tension that had risen in his shoulders loosened, and he relaxed back in his chair, “Tell us more about this business you’d like to start – I know someone who specializes in marketing for start-ups and. . .” 

It’s brushed under the rug because of course it is, and Y/N keeps chatting with them a healthy amount before excusing herself to the restroom. This is when her parents make their move to visit with her Nan (“What a joy it is to dote on your mother-in-law,” her mother sighed, grabbing her wine), so they split ways. Y/N does have to piss, that much is true, but she’ll also be taking a detour to the library, where the photo albums were kept. Nobody questions where she’s going or why she’s going there, but she does manage to narrowly avoid Thomas who would have definitely not trusted her when she told him she wasn’t doing anything to rouse suspicion. 

The library, in comparison to the rest of the house, is actually one of the smaller rooms. She wondered if it was actually small or if the towering bookcases made it appear more compact than it was. On either side of the room, the walls were bookshelf-beside-bookshelf, filled to the brim with different novels, titles, hardbacks, and paperbacks (she doesn’t even think her parents are that into reading). Adjacent to the door, the wall is a window that reminded her of Edward’s room in Twilight, only this one was composed of bulletproof, thick glass and had large curtains that could be drawn if it was night. In the center of the room was a small couch, a coffee table, and a lamp (which has a very limited purpose when there’s a huge light fixture hanging from the ceiling that lights up the entire room as soon as it’s flicked on). 

It takes her a moment to skim over different bindings until she finds the odd, large bindings of the photobooks. They aren’t labeled but she remembered that her mother, in all her perfectionist glory, had them color coded by years. Y/N knew that vibrant purples, blues, and greens were from a period starting with her birth so that’s where she starts. She pulled out all of them, bundled them in her arms, and went to the couch. Vaguely does Y/N remember a time when she was always posing for pictures whether she wanted to or not, and while it wasn’t necessarily either of her parents taking the picture – someone was. Thomas, any bodyguard, her Nan, uncles, aunts, and cousins if they were all together. So there are plenty of pictures to sift through, almost an annoying amount. She thinks she’ll be in here for hours. 

Three photo albums in, she begins to lose hope. What was she even looking for? Some proof that Harry existed when she was little? Who was to say anyone had even taken a picture of them together in the first place? And for her parents to keep it, when one of them at the very least, was not interested in her knowing that he had existed in her life before a few months ago when he’d entered her flat, following close behind Niall? It was unlikely. 

She nibbles at her thumbnail, heaving a sigh and almost irately flipping through pages now when she sees it. 

When she sees him. 

If Y/N had looked through it any quicker she would have missed it. A picture at the park, two children stood beside the obnoxiously bright blue tunnel slides: one of them was her, in a frilly pink sundress that had large yellow flowers printed all over the front, and jelly shoes she has a vague memory of regretting because the mulch from the ground kept scratching her. She had a big, front toothless grin, her head over-exaggerated in its tilt and one of her hands were held up like she was waving. Her arm was wrapped around a boy, just a little taller than her, who had awful cargo shorts you could only get away with wearing at 9 and a green shirt with a FIFA logo. His hair was brown, cut short, his eyes were light, she could tell, and he had two dimples just as she remembered. Looking at this photo, she knew for sure. 

It was him. 

That fucking liar. 

She carefully slides the delicate paper from the plastic sheet and presses it off to the side, before continuing to flip through. One picture would be enough, she knew, but she wanted to build an arsenal of proof. He could try to explain away one picture, but not several. Not when she could tell the structure of his face, the way one side of his mouth has always pulled up higher when he smiled, the crinkles beside his eye when he grins. 

Y/N is conflicted, about whether to be happy or upset or whatever she was feeling. She was happy that she had been right this whole time. She was irritated because he’d been lying to her and her dad just lied straight to her face, but she wondered for what reason it was important that she didn’t know. And she was confused, because. . .well, where the fuck had he gone? From at least four of the photo albums, she finds around five photos from each of them, up until she was around 10. 

She’d worried a sore into the inside of her bottom lip biting at it with fretted teeth, and her forehead ached from the deep furrow she’d had the entire time she flicked through the albums. Y/N was ready to go home, but she knew she’d have to stay for a while longer. 

Just as she was sliding the pictures into her purse, zipping it closed, the door of the library opened. She tenses until she realizes it’s Niall, who squints his eyes, “What are you doing in here?” 

“Hiding and going down memory lane.” She dismisses him quickly, collecting the albums and walking them back to where she’d found them, “Have they started serving food yet? I’m fucking starving.” 

“Watch your mouth, your Nan could be around any corner. She’s quiet on her feet,” he playfully scolded her, not probing any further into her reasonings for being in here, “That’s why I came to get you, the caterers finally have everything set up and I knew you’d fuss if I ate without you.” 

She scoffed, “Thanks, and for the record, I don’t fuss, I hit.” 

He pouted his mouth, rubbing his arm where she’d swatted him earlier, “Don’t I know it.” 

                                                                    .                     .                   .

Y/N loses her nerve. 

For a while, she was riled up and ready for an argument (though she doubts Harry would actually argue with her); Harry was supposed to come to see her that night, so she had very little time to mentally prepare. But from that little time she did get, she’d prepared to let him walk in, sit down, then slam the pictures down on the table in front of him and demand answers. Like why he lied before, why her father lied today, and why he left in the first place. Does it matter? No, not necessarily, and she doesn’t think it would change how anything is right now, but at the end of the day, Y/N is nosy and confused and wants to know why everyone else is in on this and not her. Just like everything else in her life, she is kept in the dark, and she’d just been praising Harry for being the only one who ever kept her in the know, telling her more than anyone else. 

And she thinks if it had been anyone else, she probably would have. If she had looked through those albums and seen a photo of Niall with her, she would have immediately thrown it at him and asked him what the fuck it was about. 

Yet as soon as she saw Harry, who smiled brightly at her as he walked in, holding two strawberry shakes with a big grin on his face. . .she just couldn’t. 

“I brought you a treat,” he told her, kicking the door shut with his foot, “It’s a celebration shake. Do you feel relieved having done it and gotten it over with?” 

It almost felt silly, to think about doing it how she had planned. To show him the photos, like an I told you so! I’m right, you’re wrong, I did know you – it felt like a petulant way to approach the subject. And if there was a good reason that they didn’t want her to know. . .if there was any reason at all, really, why should she have to force his hand in telling her? To shove proof in his face, catch him off guard, guilt him into telling her. . .it just didn’t feel right. She wanted to know, and part of her felt she deserved to know, but maybe not like this. 

She cleared her throat, and smiled gently, “Yeah,” she told him, “It wasn’t too bad.” 

“See! I told you it’d be just fine,” he handed her the shake, “I’ll admit, I am jealous Niall got to go with you in that dress. It was adorable – you look so pretty when you’re all dressed up. Well, you’re pretty always, actually, but I do love dresses.” 

Y/N feels her face warm, mouth pulled into a frown, “Don’t tease me,” she grumbled, pulling the straw of the shake between her lips, but she moves her legs out of the way for him to sit with her on the couch. 

“I’m not teasing,” he defended himself, “Really, I think you’re pretty in whatever you feel comfortable in.” 

Y/N nudged him with her foot, and let the words, I knew you when I was little, I have pictures – fizzle out in her throat. She wants to know – so badly does she want to know, but she just can’t give a reason why she would need to know. And she guesses part of her is a little scared that it might change things between them. There were a lot of things Y/N wanted but that wasn’t one of them; she’d like to keep getting closer to him, to keep looking at him and feeling safe, for that bubble of warmth and comfort to arise in her belly every time he stepped through the door. 

She liked how things were now, so maybe she was okay not knowing. Not yet, at least. . .for a little while. 

“Where’s your head at, hm?” Harry hums low, sweet, and soft; he’s in the usual attire, though the white button-up was loosened by a few buttons and the cuff links were undone. His suit pants were navy blue today, and he treated them with little care, his foot pulled up onto the couch, rolling the leg of the trousers up. He is turned to face her, the hand on his phone lowering so she had his full attention, “You seem far away.” 

“Nowhere,” she lies easily, “I’m just sleepy.” 

Harry gives her a smile – it’s gentle but still big, and she’s suddenly acutely aware of how her heart races when she witnesses it, dimples and all, “Liarrr,” he sing-songs, but uses his free hand to squeeze her calf over the pajama pants she’s wearing, “You can tell me when you’re ready if you want to talk about it,” his voice sinks into her muscles, melts them, “I’ll wait for you. Until then, I reckon we should watch that show. . .the new one with the zombies everyone is talking about?” He would have a good reason, right? Harry wouldn’t just lie to her. . .Harry doesn’t just lie. 

Y/N nodded, her lips twitching up, “So you finally admit you want to see it,” she puffed a laugh from her chest, “After so vehemently denying that you’re interested in zombie shows at all!” 

“To be fair, a lot of them can be shit!” He whined, “But I’ve seen a lot of good reviews, and I heard it’s about some mind-controlling fungus which is a slight deviation from other versions of the story. And legally, you can’t be mean to me because I’m so sweet and brought you a shake.”  

She grabbed the remote, “You’re whiny.” 

“I reckon I deserve to be the whiny one sometimes, you get to be 24/7.” He retorted and Y/N gasped, mouth falling open. 

“I am not whiny!” 

“Oh? Was that a whine I just heard?” When she huffs at him and starts turning her body away from him, he chuckles low, stopping her from twisting her body completely by laying a hand on her bicep, “C’mon, c’mon, I’m kidding.” He scoots to the other end of the couch, “Here, do you want to stretch out? I’m sure your feet must hurt after being in those shoes all day.” 

Her response is to kick her feet up without hesitation, but she wiggles down so that they lay in his lap, “Will you rub them?” Because if he’s going to lie to her about knowing her and then suddenly return to her life as her bodyguard, she thinks she deserves a foot rub out of it at the very, absolute least. 

“Ah,” he places one of her throw pillows in his lap, before delicately laying her foot on top of it, “You just want me here to dote on you.” 

She nodded her head, “Correct.” 

“Brat,” he digs his thumb into the sole of her foot anyway, just above her heel, “Get the show started or I’ll start tickling.” 

Because it’s easy with Harry – it’s always been easy with Harry and that’s what she liked. 

Why make it difficult? 

Why bring it up? 

                                                                 .                             .                           .

The days go on as normal; eventually, they lessen their stringent rules on where she can and cannot go. It’s only a little bit, but she and Harry can finally return to their art classes, where Y/N found the excuse for their absence was they had taken a trip to Spain (she lies about how amazing the rooftop tour of Santiago de Compostela Cathedral is beautiful knowing full well she didn’t even know you could get tours on the rooftop).  They returned just in time for a color theory lesson that goes from a fun grade school color wheel to something that melted her brain. By the end of it, it had turned into something so complex, even Harry seemed genuinely astonished by how deep into it they went. 

“We’ll have to practice later,” he promised, “‘cos I’m going to forget everything she said after the first hour.” 

Y/N goes to a brunch with her Nan, who – albeit reluctantly – lets Harry attend. Thomas was still hyper-aware of any possible danger (as he always is) and thought it would be dangerous for not only Y/N but her Nan (who has made plenty of enemies in her day) to be alone out and about together. Harry offered to sit at a separate table once he noticed her Nan’s displeasure but she waved the idea away, “Why should you be punished because I disagree with how they’re doing things? You’ll sit with us.” 

If Y/N looked back on it, she thinks that Grandma always had a problem with how they raised Y/N. Very, very, very vaguely she has an indistinct and fuzzy memory of her scolding Y/N’s father, “This is no life to live,” she told him, “To force her in this house! To not even let her attend school? She needs friends outside of her cousins and a life. I didn’t raise you to be so stupid.” And Y/N thinks, relatively close to that, she’d been enrolled in a private school (though she moved around quite a bit following that). 

It was nice to spend time with her, and she thinks – even without trying – Harry had managed to woo her Nan in about five minutes. If she let herself indulge, even just for a second, it was like having her boyfriend meet her family but she wipes the thought away as soon as it arises. 

Because she’s been having a lot of thoughts like that; she’d begun labeling them her “senseless, delusional” moments where she even for a second considered having feelings for Harry. They started out infrequently, only every so often (especially when he did something particularly sweet) but with time they grew more recurrent. It seemed, like some sort of sick twist, that they came on stronger once she realized that she knew him from when they were little. 

Which, Y/N thinks if she were more emotionally sound, the opposite would have occurred. She should be put off and repelled, but instead, she finds herself feeling more and more fond. 

Now she notices things that she hadn’t before. All the little idiosyncrasies of hers that he remembered from childhood: how she liked jelly candies and her favorite flavors, the board games she used to play, the stuffies she always liked, the way she hated the sound of nails on a holographic picture, how she thinks the sandwich just tastes better when it’s cut diagonally. They were things that, for whatever reason, she never questioned why he knew before but now that she thought about it, it would be incredibly odd had he known them without knowing her. 

And over time she just realizes that he brings the kind of comfort that only a childhood friend could bring. Familiarity, a tender warmth, the idea that someone still likes you even as you’ve grown and changed into the person you are today. Fundamentally, their relationship was always somewhat forced she guesses – their parents (or his parents and Thomas) probably arranged the first play date. And Thomas definitely arranged for him to be her bodyguard. They were compelled to be in the same space together, but enjoying their time with each other. . .that was them. Harry laughing at her jokes, the feeling that fizzles in her veins when his cheeks get pink, how excited she is to see him when it’s his night with her, the borderline domestic relationship she’s developed with his cats – all of that wasn’t arranged. 

They were friends, Y/N truly believed that. They had been forever now, she guesses, if the decade-long gap in between was dissolved. 

Y/N thumbs through the photos when she’s in her room at night, gnawing at her bottom lip, a zoetrope of memories flickering through her brain. Some things she recalls, some things she doesn’t, and she recalls feelings more than she does conversations or scenarios. She was always happy, she knew that, and she always felt like a normal kid with him. She could tell him things and they could play and things were good and normal.

She found herself wanting to kiss him more every day, which is a bit of a problem. They still hadn’t spoken about the first, logically they should do that before having a second, but the want for it itches beneath her skin. Y/N’s certain he had caught her staring at his mouth several times, probably more than she would like to admit, but he had never really brought it up before. 

Until a random Thursday, at least, when she’d spent most of the day drawing and perfecting different sketches for the first round of stickers (she does a lot of random original cutesy drawings, then some that involve different tv shows and movies – people like to buy cute versions of characters they like, Y/N knows that because she does it all the time). Harry started talking about. . .something, Y/N couldn’t remember, but what she did remember was how his mouth went from forming around the word “apples” to smirking. 

“You stare at my mouth an awful lot,” he taunted her, and Y/N. . .she was feeling more sensitive that day; less fiery than she usually was, so she tilted her head down and murmured an apology, “No, wait,” he clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I was only kidding, Sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize for anything.” 

When she hummed and made no move to look back at him, she felt careful fingers on her chin, guiding her face toward him, “C’mon, Darling, don’t hide. It’s okay! You can look at my mouth all you want, lord knows I’m always looking at yours.” 

Her face feels hot and she swallows thickly, “You’re looking at mine?” 

“Mhm,” he hesitated for a moment, before the pad of his thumb grazed over her bottom lip, “More than I’d like to admit.” 

“We could always,” she spoke against his petting thumb, “We could kiss again then if you want.” 

He leaned in, moments from smearing his mouth against hers, but there was a knock at the door. 

The pizza they ordered had come. 

That was the closest they’d been to kissing again, but once Harry went to answer the door and sign for the food the moment had left them. Y/N is flustered, warm in her face, and has zero nerve to return where they had left off so she nudges him with her foot when he sits back beside her and calls him a wimp when he fusses over it. Things go back to normal – the same as they usually were.

(It was only later that night when she was alone in her bed when she felt inconceivably horny, did she remember that her period was coming. The weeks leading up to it always left her insatiable, sensitive in both her feelings and touch, and if she snuck her hand between her thighs to the thought of kissing him again, well that’s her own problem.) 

The nightmares start to fade too, which is nice, though that means Harry spends less time in her room. He’d made a habit of sleeping beside her, or at least laying down near her until she fell asleep, and she’d always wake up the next morning alone. Though without fail, as soon as a dream seemed to sour, Harry was there at her side to wake her from it, always attentive, squeezing the shoulder he’d just been shaking, “S’just a dream, baby, you’re okay.” He’d calm her down, “Go back to bed.” 

“Thank you, nightmare killer,” she would murmur, tongue feeling heavy in her mouth, and Harry would laugh, and she’d fall back asleep. 

Things were nice, starting to feel a little normal again with the additive closeness she felt with Harry despite knowing what she did. She was starting to feel comfortable again, and not stuck inside all of the time, and she felt like she was getting somewhere with her drawings, growing closer and closer to being able to open her shop. 

And then, one night, Harry is waking her up frantically. 

Harry is not a frantic person – he is usually calm, collected, and measured. Y/N has never truly seen him in action but she’s sure he makes decisions with precision and tact that typically comes from years of experience, though she doesn’t think he’s been at this that long. He’s levelheaded and respectful and acts well under pressure – that makes him deadly. 

So to see him urging her awake, moving quickly, telling her to, “Get up, we need to leave.” Makes her adrenalin spike and panic drip from her ears. 

“What?” She was still foggy, disoriented – what time was it? Her clock says it’s three in the morning. 

“We need to go,” he is reaching beneath her bed, dragging out a bag – her “Go” bag, is what she always called it, something Thomas had instructed her to make even when she was little. It was a duffel of clothes, toiletries, and things that would take too long to grab in the event she needed to leave an area quickly. She’d only ever had to grab it once before when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember why. Though now that she thinks about it, it seemed like it might have been close to the time that Harry had disappeared.

She doesn’t check her go bag often, beyond replacing the toiletries that may have lived past their shelf date, so she was also surprised to see Harry pull a gun from it. A gasp leaves her mouth, she’s still moving too slowly, trying to catch up with what’s happening as he’s fitting it into the holster, “Wait, what? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” 

He’s zipping the bag up, “Bill was fired –” 

“What?” 

“- and it got ugly, he shot at Martha. There’s reason to believe he’s on his way here.” 

“But why –” 

“There’s no time to explain everything,” he threw the duffle over his shoulder, “We need to leave.” 

Her head is spinning, she knows she’s probably annoying him, but she can’t help but search for something to say, for a question to ask, to try and understand what was happening, if she was dreaming or not, if this was another nightmare, “What –” 

This time Harry cuts her off by taking her face in his hands – he was still gentle, but she could sense the urgency, “I will explain as soon as we’re safe, I promise you, baby, but right now we need to leave okay? Get your phone but turn off the location. We’ll go down the back stairwell to the parking garage.” She still seems hesitant, confused, but Harry runs a thumb over her cheek, “Do you trust me?” 

And she does. . .she trusts him implicity, more than she should, probably.   

“Yes.” 

“Good,” he replied quickly, “Come on.” 

[maxlarens]

(idk how concepts work) would love your thoughts on Oscar trying to flirt especially when Logan/Lando/Alex/George are around

under the cut because i went ON and ON

aaooh so first of all i think oscar is a terrible flirter. or at least the typical idea of flirting. he cannot say a pick up line with any level of seriousness. he blushes too much. just can’t do the suave smooth thing at all on purpose.

i think his idea of flirting is sarcastic jokes, teasing sorry so like exactly how he talks to lando and being near you— like sitting so your arms are touching, or randomly playing with strands of ur hair, that kind of thing! and occasionally pulling out a veering-on-suggestive comment or complimenting you, but that would come after being friends i think.

anyway. i think the pressure of other people would make it soo much worse for him. he can flirt with u enough when it’s just the two of you, push boundaries and get closer and all that stuff. but when his friends are around ohmygod it would be bad.

lando and logan would be THE WORST culprits. i can see oscar trying something that just doesn’t land super well and logan snorts into his drink or lando starts giggling😭 i think they’d be paying attention to you two Always, trying to manufacture situations where oscar can shoot his shot or just keeping an eye on how it’s going. and they’re soo well meaning about it because they want oscar to be happy but it doesn’t really help because oscar is SUCHH a slow burn kinda guy. idk i just see it taking a while, lots of subtle things building up into something u eventually can’t ignore. i think he’s very happy to meet the relationship where it’s at.

lando would absolutely try to push oscars buttons by making flirty comments at u and when oscar is like BRO? lando just tells him to make a move if it bothers him so much. logan would not do that but he’d be very content to take the absolute piss out of you and oscar. publicly and privately. and he would not stifle his instinct to laugh at you two whatsoever. you spend the whole time thinking that logan’s got something wrong with him😭

and okay on george and alex. i think they’d be less ~in tune~ with the whole thing because lando and logan probably know oscar better. but im torn between whether i think george or alex would catch on immediately. mm yeah actually i think george might clock it right away— like take one look at the two of you and go oh okay they’ve got mega crushes on each other and neither of them quite know it. BUTTT i think alex would be the only one brave enough to say something to your faces. you’d be having dinner or lunch or something with them all and you and oscar would be sitting next to each other giggling, playing ur usual game of chicken 😭 and alex just point blank goes: “so are you guys dating yet or what”

and you would both go TOTALLY red and lando and logan would spend the rest of the meal laughing their heads off. and i think after that you’d have to finally acknowledge it lol.

but anyway, i kinda didn’t get into this, but i think oscar would just be a stuttering mess while trying to flirt with u when others are around. stumbling over his words, making awkward jokes that reveal a little too much, staring at u too long, weird lingering touches, LAUGHING TOO LOUD. he’d be fine if the conversation were about something entirely normal, but if it starts veering into anything about relationships in general/you/dating/etc… mm yeah poor boy would not survive.

[ghost-proofbaby]

hi this is talking to a guy bc of 24 hours anon again (can I call myself 🎸 anon it's easier lol) sorry for the twice in one day update but things happened! So I get to see him now on both Thursday AND Friday next week. And we also told each other we kinda liked each other. And a big thing lmao was he asked if I "had a spicy side" and me, knowing full well the kinda shit I read, said no. 🤦🏻‍♀️ I might be a horny whore but I am a mega virgin shy horny whore. So he does not know that. But I genuinely spiraled so hard when he asked me if he could ask me a question cause I didn't have a good experience the last time a guy asked me that out of nowhere. And the spicy question was not as bad as I was expecting. But I told him that I'm very nervous about this and he was okay with it so that's good prepare for this to be the slowest burn to ever slow burn.

im so sorry im seeing this so so late!! but if you’re still out there nonnie, you absolutely can claim 🎸 <3 i think if i’m getting my days correct, this means you’re seeing him today AND tomorrow, so i’m wishing you the best of luck!!! this definitely sounds like the slowest burn in the making and i’m just gonna live so vicariously through you

[kumaonna]

hakuouki kyoto winds and edo blossoms thoughts no one asked for:

(spoilers; in order of play)

full disclosure, it’s been a few months since i played this but i can’t get them off my mind so… :) sorry it’s messy. the first few i just did as the choices led me, but later i planned out who i was going to do in order so i couldn’t just skip all the people i wasn’t looking forward to 😩

heisuke

no okay hear me out i love him but i did NOT want his route first in Kyoto winds initially solely bc of his hair😭 with those bangs!!! no sir!!!

but of course he’s the first route i ended up on and he grew on me immediately

also didn’t realize there were actual routes in Kyoto winds bc all the reviews said it story-heavy, so i thought it was just one big story

very much incorrect

anyway his route is so 😔💔

i cried a Lot because it’s just so sad seeing him go through the fury stuff </3 and he tries to stay happy for chizuru but he’s so clearly in PAIN and ugh

anyway as u can see i got extremely attached and would now protect him with my silly little life (even with the bad bangs💀 plus now i have bad bangs too so we’re twins✨)

sanosuke and nagakura are so fun in this route too!! rlly a good time when they’re around despite how much they clown my boy🧍‍♂️

it’s just an innocent and lovely pairing in which they get to grow with one another

his design in the second game is so cute

and i just LOVED seeing him in all the routes i did after, it was like he was there watching after you 😭

solid 9/10, very glad he was my introduction to the series ^^

saito

alright okay everybody make way, the king has arrived🤲👑

look. i know he’s a little dry BUT. that’s honestly exactly what i was expecting so i wasn’t disappointed

it’s very much a slow burn with you gradually earning his trust and worming your way into his heart

but even from the start he’s just… always there for chizuru. mans shows up for you every route anytime you need him and without reservation

he’s down bad idc idc

he’s also just. genuinely very kind in his own way, which is quiet but there nonetheless

also mega badass

cute how much he loves swords. sad he feels useless with the dawn of a new era of fighting :/

but chizuru helps him through it :)

and his ENDING SCENE where he’s just out in the snow unresponsive because you aren’t calling his first name💀 mf you’re going to die out there pls get inside

also the snowbunny 💔♥️

AND HIM LEAVING >:(

definitely hurt my feelings in like every route it happened, but was always happy to see him again

(im just randomly remembering bits of story this is so chaotic srry😭)

anyway. i love him

also a solid 8/10

yamazaki

liked how active chizuru is in this route!! the medic angle was refreshing

similar to saito, wasn’t expecting much in terms of romantic gestures, but he surprised me! it was an unexpectedly emotional ride

cute seeing him flustered. also seems down bad in most routes he’s heavily in💀

don’t have much to say about his, but i enjoyed it! it was nice watching his relationship with chizuru develop

he was very sweet. 7/10

iba

this mf 😐

i was SO excited for his route

he seemed so nice and sweet

and then he goes and gets a demon hand and is SO MF MEAN

like i get that it’s bc he cares about chizuru and feels like he won’t be able to control himself otherwise but Damn 😭

:/

i did like how unique his route was. you don’t really get his story in any of the others

even so, he remains a lil on my shit list. but he gets a pass ig

5/10

sanosuke

was also really excited for his route!! he’s just so considerate in all the other routes towards chizuru and his route was no exception

his scene when chikage comes to steal you and he protects you and checks on you afterward….. one of my fav in the whole game

very grateful for the tiddy window

still loved being around nagakura and heisuke! my boys

the way he f*cks you on the floor on a whim 😭 mans did not hold back

his route was a little uneventful tbh, but that’s mainly because of the role he had to play in the other routes i think

anyway. 7/10

nagakura

nagakura bby where did it go wrong………

sigh

i kinda read some stuff about his route going in so i knew people weren’t crazy about it

but i was like “c’mon, it’s nagakura! how bad could it possibly be??”

😐

there’s just like zero character development and very little romance

and bc of that it feels like there’s nothing learned at all in terms of an overarching theme

the difficulties he faces are either ignored or solved almost immediately with zero opportunity for reflection

the little sister relationship with chizuru is cute and funny for like the first three hours and then im like OKAY CAN WE PLEASE GET ON WITH IT

idk makes me sad bc his route could have been so good >:( i love him in everyone else’s route but his own

sigh. 4/10

sanan

was really not looking forward to his route tbh but it wasn’t half bad

it was nice getting a view of everything from the other side of things after him being a villain in the story for so long up to this point in my playthrough

was still kind of off-putting for most of his route though

which i think is intentional

but instead of making me more interested in sanan’s story, i was like can i please go back to heisuke 😭😭💔 he’s like right there with you for parts of it c’mon

anyway you do get some good insight into him and why he turns out the way he does, his tragic fear of uselessness and all

on the whole didn’t hate it but wasn’t in love with it either

5/10

sakamoto

absolutely not 😭

i am so sorry i feel like the last few have been so negative but this one just was not for me

i didn’t like him the first time he came around in saito’s route for me, didn’t like him in his own route💀

i think he’s just supposed to be like this dashing, morally-grey rogue but i was just like 😐 yes yes guns and trading and the rise of western technology, now are you going to pull me into a pyramid scheme or something?🤨

just. not a fan of his opportunistic nature and general disregard for others

4/10

souma

FINALLY back to the good stuff

i really loved souma’s route for so many reasons

first his relationship with chizuru as a subordinate is so cute and the way he protects her is just . sweet. naïve, but sweet 

but god DAMN did this route destroy me

probably the saddest one out of all of them

this was also the first route i really saw what was happening to okita…. or like one of the first times it really hit me ☹️

you watch everyone die. like. EVERYONE

for several characters, this was my first time seeing them actually die or hearing about it officially i think, and it was just so much

it’s extremely heavy and hard to watch sometimes seeing how much souma is suffering because of it

like when he messed up and told okita to punch him and okita hardly left a mark? then souma is sent reeling?

yeah. i was weeping

and hijikata……. also absolutely wrecked me

the pressure put on souma just grows and grows and all chizuru can do is watch and try to support him, which is heartbreaking

the romance was obviously kind of stilted in some parts because of the heavy subject material, which is expected and appropriate, i think

in my mind, the lack of romance and emphasis on just being by his side really cemented the bond between the two of them so i think it served it’s purpose

my only actual complaint about his route was the ending? the whole tongue biting thing… just felt really anticlimactic and i was like? that’s all it took to get chikage to finally go tf away?

but in a way i think it’s kind of emblematic of the story itself

souma’s story isn’t some great romantic saga for the ages

it’s a story of pain and grief, in which the ending isn’t something grand and picturesque

rather, a woman patiently awaiting the return of her lover from the other side of these terrible tragedies

anyway. not to get too deep, i just really liked his route

9/10 :)

okita

his route probably stuck with me the most, tbh

i put off doing it for so long out of fear i wouldn’t like him lol

because from everyone else’s routes, i saw glimpses of him, but it was never enough to pin him down

so when i finally got to his route and saw his story firsthand, i was kind of blown away by how much i liked him

a big part of it comes from uncovering his past, which was devastating because, as cute as he was in childhood, i couldn’t forget what would soon happen to kondou

seeing that relationship play out finally was also pretty eye-opening in my understanding of him in other routes

and suddenly okita’s childishness and spitfire temperament began to come together for me

because in a way, okita is still just a kid

he was forced to fend for himself from so young and clung on desperately to the one adult willing to give him the time of day

and he told himself that as long as he had kondou, everything would be okay. as long as he could prove his worth to a man he respected as a father, it was okay to be alive

so when his usefulness was slowly stripped away, it became more than a fight for his life against an illness. it became a fight for his right to be alive in the first place

it explains his extreme denial and anger at facing the truth of his illness, because to him, if he was truly sick, he was as good as dead

i think some of that was alleviated at becoming a fury, if only slightly. but being confronted with kondou’s death took any semblance of normalcy away entirely

now not only was he useless, the man he devoted his life to was gone. in a way, he was right back where he started all those years ago before he met kondou

and it’s this very vulnerability that accelerates the attachment he feels to chizuru significantly

and basically overnight the entire dynamic switches

and he clings to the one thing he has left: chizuru

which isn’t to cheapen his love for her; in my mind, it just explains why all of a sudden everything felt different, why he was suddenly willing to pull her close and bare his heart

regardless of the reason why, i found his childishness is very endearing given his usually sharp tongue, even with his pouting and reluctant acceptance at being cared for in any capacity

could not BELIEVE this mf still had tuberculosis after becoming a fury. 😭 i was like okay surely the regenerative powers of the potion can fix that. but evidently not :(

and when he lets you dry his hair….:: yeah

also in love with the way that he just like Shows up in some routes out of nowhere to save the day. like hell yes 👏

always enjoyed the scene when you’re on rounds in the city and run off and he has to come after you

well. idk if enjoyed is the word bc he was like hacking up a lung and whatnot. but his concern was genuine, which i appreciated

his ending was also very sweet. it’s so nice getting to see him happy. he deserves good things, damnit

anywayyyy there is much more i could say but overall, 9/10

chikage

alright was also kinda dreading this mf, but ended up decently enjoying the route

main takeaway was that i want a route for shiranui 😭

but really didn’t mind chikage in the end

his willingness to accompany chizuru and arrange things on her behalf in the latter part of the story was really nice to see

also his eventual respect for her own agency and her choices

not sure if it was this route or the previous, but i had somehow ENTIRELY MISSED the route where your twin brother and fake dad kidnap you up to now

don’t know how i didn’t see that even once until so late in the game, and it’s such a big part of the story??? anyway

the ending on his was melancholy, but fitting

overall not bad and even kinda romantic sometimes, 7/10

hijikata

i wanted to go for this man IMMEDIATELY but i made myself wait because i KNEW if i did I would lose motivation to play all the routes

so i saved him for very last

it’s like a reward 😀 (90 hours later)

y’all….. i just. he’s so FINE like COME ON

idk maybe my daddy issues are just actin up but the immediate attachment i felt to this man lasted the entire mf game

the RASPINESS IN HIS VOICE⁉️

not to be h-word on the timeline but god damn

AND IM JUST GONNA SAY

IN THE FLASHBACKS AT THE OLD DOJO????? WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER????????? yeah

i don’t even wanna KNOW how fine he was in his early 20s 😭🤚(how old is he in game again?? idk)

that man… haunts my dreams

it felt so dirty going with chikage bc i felt like i was betraying hijikata😭

but being able to be his lil page was so fun

like you could tell he was just trying to make you feel useful so you didn’t feel bad (though he’d never admit it)

and i think that is very sweet

the fear of disappointing him was real 💀 (come to think of it it was def my daddy issues acting up💀💀)

lowkey like how mean he is sometimes😳 so long as chizuru isn’t on the receiving end

always got SO jealous when he was flirting with kimigiku in the hotel or whatever

like YES you’re both beautiful YES you’re perfect for each other, stop rubbing it in

love how every argument with him starts with him super mad at first and then in the next sentence justifying whatever you did or didn’t do

like “You mean to tell me you ran into a fight without a weapon?! What the hell were you thinking?!……. Well, I guess you couldn’t help it. There are only so many weapons to go around, after all.” (an exaggeration, but im too tired to find real examples rn)

like he’s just so soft on chizuru and some of the boys, especially ones from the original dojo

it was so hard seeing all the pain he had to endure as the leader of everyone. and he just takes it and moves forward :(

with this situation especially, being on the losing side and constantly at a disadvantage, abandoned by supposed allies

having played through so much of the game, i feel like i was fr mad when shit like that happened to the shinsengumi😭 like you mean to say our backup retreated AGAIN?? the cowards!!!

very strong leader and pretty badass ngl

his ending….

many tears were shed

i just really liked his route

romance was pretty eh given how emotionally constipated this mf is, but there were still some really good moments

story was great, development between the two was nice to see. and when he insisted he go alone to the final battle but chizuru shows up at the last minute and everyone was saying how sad he was…… yeah:/

anyway, i think for the amount of story that had be told, the writers did a great job

9/10

on the whole i just really enjoyed playing this game, and i can’t wait until i get the urge to replay my favorite routes so i can experience it all over again :)

[pirate-kwazii]

Watching Ring Of Fire now so here’s more of my thoughts

Is that a fence in the water

Is everyone groaning about the sea urchin and crab or yawning? I can’t tell

Okay I’ve had the Vegimals song stuck in my head for awhile now

Kwazii’s alarm clock shoots tennis balls at him- same

And Dashi starts the day with yoga

Tweaks fell asleep playing video games mood

Shellington what the fUCK

Tf is that- is that lava?!?

Oh ring of fire like the volcanoes- I feel stupid now

They’re doing their role call out of order

What the fuck Kwazii why did you eat 17 kelp cakes

Is the only thing you eat is seaweed

VIDEO TRAINING VIDEO TRAINING

*terrible accordion playing* *everyone winces*

How many cousins do you have peso?!?!

Kwazii: I’m going out and FAST!!!!

Captain: *eyebrow raise*

Kwazii: I mean I’m checking the engine

MORE GUPS?!?!

“Don’t push the Z button” Kwazii is definitely going to press it I bet all 3 of my dollars

Wait why did Peso and Barnacles need a Gup if they were taking the octopod?!

How much time does Tweak have to keep making all these gups?!

Aw Kwazii loves that Gup so much

WHAT IS BARNACLES WEARING WHAT THE HELL NO

Kwazii’s copying it omg-

Shellington and Dashi are such nerd friends it’s actually adorable

Tremors those are probably important

Ring-shape? Like the ring of fire-

Oh no comms are down

A TSUNAMI?!?!

Mateys you should’ve stayed at the Octopod

Kwazii saved Tweak’s life and now it’s flooding

Why don’t they know about the Ring of Fire if they LIVE in the ocean

Oh no the comms are down they can’t reach them!!!!

Damn at least no one is alone...

Of course the Chinstrap Penguins live on a volcano

Well at least Shellington and Dashi are alright and above water so there’s a lower chance of drowning

“How does he know I’m an octonaut?” Maybe it’s because you’re wearing the octonauts colors and the logo all over it

Wow itd be faster to push the stupid thing

Last time you guys followed the screaming sound there was a tsunami

Well at least you found the whales you wanted to find

“I’ve always wanted to see a whale but not like this!” I’d sure hope so Shellington

Of course the volcano erupts

Tweak Kwazii are ya okay?!

THEY DONT HAVE AIR TANKS ON THEM OH NO

TWEAK!!!

Now is not the time to copy Barnacles- holy shit it worked

She just noticed that?!

Shit you guys are stuck

Kwazii beggars can’t be choosers

Why is that the only way to get across Tweak

No Tweak pay attention

ITS ON FIRE

I really hope you guys can hold your breath

She’s pulling a Ladybug and the things she looks at glow now

Improvised fire extinguisher

WHY IS EVERYTHING ON FIRE ARENT YOU UNDERWATER

Eww they landed in seaweed and a banana peel

Why does everyone end in the garbage disposal- sorry compost

Oh he almost fell in-

*opens door and floods room* Guess we’re swimming after all

Tunip leave him it’s natural selection

Grouber just sits and eats during a panic- same

“Lesson Nine- dealing with disasters” what

Why is the background of those videos so bad

I mean it’s rad but also bad

Tunip: *hands the Vegimals a bunch of shovels* good luck

Mateys how did that dirt pile work-

*quickly unplants all the seaweed*

*vacuums the animals*

LEAVE THE SEAWEED YOU HAVE ENOUGH

“You gotta save us!” Why didn’t you get their attention sooner?

Why do none of them notice the volcanoes that they live on/near

We’ve seen the rafts it won’t work

How the hell did you think of that

Is that even possible

They only leave Inkling in charge when legit no one else is there

Kwazii and Tweak: *mimic pirates, rabbits and Barnacles*

Peso and Barnacles: *mimic penguins*

How was the lava that aLMOST COOKED YOUR EGGS NOT A WARNING SIGN

Wow Inkling is not good at this I see why he’s never in charge

Even Kwazii and the Vegimals have managed the octopod better than that

Why is there is Disco Ball

Why does it always switch to the training videos

“Dashi’s so good at this” yeah it’s almost like it’s her JOB

There was a BUTTON FOR THAT EXACT REASON AND YOU DIDNT THINK TO PRESS IT FIRST?!?!?!

Took you long enough jeez

What is they fall off of the “slide”

“Mothers and babies first” anyone else can perish

Well that egg is dead

Oh never mind he got it

WHY DIDNT YOU TWO GET ON THE SIDE TOO TWEAK WOULD UNDERSTAND

I mean she and Kwazii are trying not to be set on fire so I’m sure she’d get it

“I just hope everyone else is okay” well shellington and Dashi are stuck on a volcano that’s exploding trying to get a beached whale out on a very slow Gup, the Vegimals are trying to evacuate the garden, and Tweak and Kwazii are trying to get out of the burning and flooding repair area so no I don’t think anyone else is okay

“This isn’t working” no really Dashi

Oh the crabs know Kwazii that explains so much

Another Training Video?!

The crew all look so nervous when they appear in a training videos

Oh now Dashi and Shellington are mimicking Tweak

Poor Shellington he’s clumsy

“I have to say I.. really like that plan” yea cuz it’s the one that doesn’t involve you burning in the lava

Shellingtons getting a workout in oof

He’s about to fall into the lava

Now the crabs about to fall into the water

Oh god he’s screwed

Crab jump on the whale- now he’s flying

Shellington get out of the lava!!!

Alright some people are safe

Oh never mind the other volcanoes are erupting too

That water level is dangerously high are they gonna be okay

Kwazii don’t phrase it like that it sounds like you’ll die

KWAZII!!!!!

Oh god oh no his tail

Mimicking Barnacles saved the day

TWEAK!!! KWAZII!!!

Oh they are alright thank god

They’re gonna be traumatized from this- *angst time*

“And how will we get up there” Kwazii making good points again

Kwazii with a grappling hook is a terrifying idea please get one

And now they find out the comms are down

Kwazii trying to be helpful

WHY DOES SHE HAVE AN EMERGENCY CARROT STASH

KWAZII GOT ONE TOO

Another video but this ones useless-

TWEAK YOU TURNED OFF THE POWER

They sounded the octo alert together!!!

Babies

EVERYONES OKAY!!!!

OF COURSE THERES ANOTHER ONE

Kwazii and Tweak: ya we’re good

Also them: *trying to not to drown or burn*

They are all gonna connect to each other like Voltron aren’t they

KWAZII DID PRESS IT IM NOT LOSING MY $3 TODAY!!!

Tweak: I got a plan

*crashes through the hatch*

Kwazii: *excited cat sounds*

Yeah they’re going together naturally

“Mega Gup Z” epic naming skills Tweak

“Seat swap” “wait a minute- WHOA”

“It’s completely covered in sea creatures” there’s no way you get all of them

Oh good some are swimming away

“Sit tight” they can’t really do anything else Captain

Do we know where they go after being S U C C E D into the mega Gup z?

And now rocks are everywhere

Kwazii’s excited cat noises are giving me life

Couldn’t the crabs walk away?

Oh no they’re getting stuck in the volcano-

Oh they’re good thank Neptune

Dashi: yea it’s bout to erupt we gotta go

Peso: I saw something inside there we gotta go look

Does Peso want them to die

Of course the animals sound snobby

“Why ever would we do that” CUZ ITS ERUPTING i swear all the creatures have the IQ of a walnut

“I didn’t even make a button for it” bruh

Yeah just like Voltron

Kwazii: *even more excited cat noises cuz he gets to destroy things*

Why do you all name the moves with the word “mantis” in front of them?

They all share one braincell and Barnacles and Peso have it 90% of the time

Tweak gets the other 10%

Everyone else runs on pure chaotic energy

“Tweak Status Report!” Tweak: WE ARE FUCKED

Let Tweak say “Fuck” 2k21

Kwazii: *e x c i t e d c a t n o i s e s*

*throws sea creatures at whale*

*blows up into five gups in massive explosion in front of erupting volcano*

Is all that sea urchin thinks about is food

“You know what I’d like? Dinner” “you know what pal, that sounds great”

“Have the eruptions stopped” “yea but that’s not what I called about”

Is Inkling trying to be more than that guy who sits in his library all day?

Yea it’s not hatching because of the bandage all around it

Please say the egg doesn’t die

Oh it’s alive good

Octonauts: remember that island that got destroyed by a volcano? Would you like to live on an island that volcano created?

Penguins: not really

Octonauts: too bad

Vegitoa? Wow

ITS THAT STUPID SONG AGAIN LAST TIME IT WAS IT MY HEAD FOR TWO WEEKS

“It still felt like we were working as a team” maybe cuz you were all copying each other the whole time

“You really, really need to update those training videos” yeah fair enough

Of course the Vegimals still remember the dance

I see what the hype was about that was a fantastic movie mateys... though everyone’s probably gonna have some problems after that

[wonderlustlucas]

jack pot ; part 3 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader ⇢ word count 6.4k ⇢ genre fluff & angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way) ⇢ warnings (18+) drug use, a suggestive make out & the mention of a boner twice maybe ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n AAAAAAAA omg im so excited to post this, this by far is my fav part of jack pot & i cant wait to hear what u all think!!! sorry its a bit shorter than the other parts, & technically this is the *last* part, but there will be an epilogue where you will see how everything comes to be!!!! have fun reading!!! <3

⇠ part 2

five.

“Oh, fuck, he’s good,” Yeji gasps, shoving her phone into Maddie’s hands before faceplanting into the table.

“Are you H-T-T-P because I’m colon-slash-slash without you,” Maddie reads with a chuckle, thumbs hesitating over the keyboard. “Quick, YN, look up some pick-up lines.”

Closing the tab on the article you should be reading but has been long forgotten, you promptly do as you are told and open the first link from your search, Minho and Jisung leaning in to help. “There,” Jisung stops you, pointing to one, “’Are you a parking ticket? Because you have fine written all over you.’”

The table can’t help but burst into laughter at such a sentence. It’s stupid, but ever since Yeji and Kim Sunwoo began texting, their conversations have been full of tacky puns and emoji-filled compliments.

“Damn,” Maddie whistles, setting the phone back into Yeji’s limp hand, “he’s already typing back.”

“Gross,” Ryujin teases, busy typing away on her laptop. How she manages to multitask so well is a skill you certainly lack. “Why don’t you just like, I don’t know, ask him out?” Jisung asks and when you glance up, he’s looking at you. “Because that’s the guy’s job,” Maddie quickly saves the day, winking to you when you send her a grateful smile.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin scoffs. Everyone, even Ryujin, stops to look at him.

Did he just curse?

“I mean, like,” he stammers, cheeks turning rosy at all the attention, “it’s 2020. Guys have insecurities, too.”

“I agree,” Minho hums, looking to Maddie with hearts in his eyes, “that kind of confidence is enough to make any boy fall in love.”

“Yeah, but—”

Lia rebuts, but your attention quickly falls elsewhere when a text message first appears on your laptop, then your phone.

hwang hyunjin🦔🕺🏻💞🧻 [now] Where r u rn?

Unable to fight your smile, you quickly type back.

[3:39 PM] YN: outside hollin st café [3:39 PM] YN: why? :)

“Have you seen their new house, YN?” Minho asks, prompting you to click your phone off and set it back on the table. “Whose house?”

“Changbin’s parents.”

“Oh,” shaking your head, you distantly curse Chan for keeping your friend busy today. Unlike Jisung, Changbin likes to write lyrics and do whatever other music stuff during the day at a normal time instead of the middle of the fucking night while stoned and trying to finish his computer science assignments at the same time. “No, he forgot to send me pictures.”

“Dude,” Jisung sighs dreamily, “it’s huge. So nice. I think the front door alone could cover tuition.”

“Is it really that nice?” Maddie asks in awe.

“He started to show me pics the other day but couldn’t finish but the kitchen… unnecessary,” Ryujin quips, pausing her work to check her phone. “Yeah, it’s insane. The whole place is unnecessary but the kitchen is like, a house in itself,” Jeongin hums, head shaking in disbelief.

“Damn, now I really want to see it,” you sigh, making a mental note to hunt Changbin down so he can show you. “It’s like Hyunjin and his rings,” Minho snickers, “he has so many. Whenever we’re out, if he sees a ring, boom. It’s his.”

Well, he’s not wrong but… You bite your tongue no matter how badly you wish to defend Hyunjin and his affinity for rings and jewelry in general. The boy has taste, what can you say? You certainly are not complaining about Hyunjin’s long fingers and the way he chooses to decorate them.

“I never thought I’d hear Changbin’s parent’s kitchen be analogous to Hyunjin’s jewelry collection, yet here we are,” Maddie chuckles, leaning over Yeji to peek at her conversation with Sunwoo.

“Wow, speak of the devil,” Jisung pipes up of course as soon as you have reopened the tab to your assignment. Changbin or Hyunjin, you don’t know, head whipping up to find out and a peculiar mix of relief and panic settling over you once you spot the latter. “Uh oh, YN’s gonna go into cardiac arrest.”

As subtly as you can, you elbow Jisung in the stomach and smile at Hyunjin as he nears. “Hey,” keeping his eyes on you, Hyunjin approaches your table and stops behind Maddie opposite from you, “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you were busy.” His cheeks, already flushed, burn pinker once he looks away to smile weakly at everyone else.

“I’m not busy!” You squeak, scrambling to close your laptop and shove it in your bag. “Are you sure? I can come back later?” He offers, tilting his head and this is when you realize he is holding a bubble tea in each hand. And from the looks of it, one seems to be your usual order. “No, she’s not,” Jeongin answers for you, recognizing your stupefied expression.

“I was just – yeah. No,” rushing to stand and swing your legs out around the bench, you nearly fall flat on your face, “I wasn’t doing anything, actually.” Steadying yourself with a hand on Minho’s shoulder, you heave a labored breath before carefully walking to meet Hyunjin.

“Okay,” he beams, either oblivious to how flustered you are or simply choosing to ignore it. Turning to wave to your friends, he hands you one of the cups and you realize it is, in fact, your favorite boba. Oh boy. “See ya later,” you wave to them as well, nose wrinkling when both Jisung and Maddie wink in return.

Following after Hyunjin, you finally allow yourself to take notice of his attire and can’t help but feel confused. He looks good. And not in the good attractive way—he always looks good. But good as in formal. It’s four o’clock on a Tuesday in October and he’s out here looking as if he just got out of a business meeting. White button-down tucked into fitted black slacks, dress shoes, black tie, and he even has a black suit jacket draped over his arm. His hair is styled, too; ever since he dyed it back to black, he’s been growing it out long enough for his bangs to cover his eyes. Now, however, it’s parted down the middle and seems as if he’s ever so slightly curled it away from his face.

Suddenly, you feel ridiculous walking beside him in mom jeans and a baggy sweatshirt from high school.

“Thanks for the boba,” you mumble around your straw, brain still preoccupied trying to get over how utterly handsome he is. “Why do you look so fancy?”

The side of his mouth twitches up at your words, but his eyes stay glued to the sidewalk as you continue to your unknown destination. “I had an audition,” Hyunjin admits, voice devoid of emotion as if it’s not important at all. “An audition?” You echo. “Why do you sound so not super mega excited? How did it go? What was it for?”

“Well—”

“Wait!” You interrupt, stopping your walk once you realize he had an audition and you didn’t know. “You had an audition? What – why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyunjin frowns, avoiding your gaze and dragging his bottom teeth over his top lip. “I didn’t tell anyone,” he finally says before reaching for your hand and tugging you away from the walkway and into your campus’ main courtyard. “Why? Is it some sort of secret or something, Hyunjin?” You scoff, sounding way more annoyed than you intended. But you are annoyed; why didn’t he want to tell anyone?

“No,” he sighs, finding an empty area in the grass and lowering himself to sit, “I just… didn’t want anyone to know. Didn’t want to make it a big deal.”

“Hyunjin,” you sigh, visibly softening for him and settling down next to him, crisscrossing your legs, “it is a big deal. I don’t know what it’s for, but if it’s important enough for you to audition, then it’s important to us, too. You don’t need to be humble twenty-four-seven, you know. I’m sure you could have used our support.”

“I didn’t get it, though,” Hyunjin whispers, “they just – I didn’t get in. I wasn’t good enough.” Sensing the sadness in his voice, you find a lump forming in your throat when you notice the way his bottom lip trembles. “Hey,” panicking, you set your boba down and sit up on your knees to wrap your arms around him, cradling his head into your chest once tears start falling, “no. Don’t ever say you’re not good enough, Hyunjin.”

“But if I did better, practiced more, than I would—"

“Stop,” you hush, combing your fingers through his hair and brushing strands away from his eyes, “I’ve never met someone who works as hard as you do. You can’t beat yourself up over this. Everything happens for a reason. You don’t know what could have happened if you got in. You could have hurt yourself eventually, or maybe met someone who’s a real asshole.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, quiet and muffled when he turns to press his forehead into your sternum, body still trembling as he lets out all his tears. You stay like that for a while, holding him against you and soothing a hand up and down his back until his sniffling falls quiet. “Listen,” you finally sigh, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him back. Your heart sinks once you take in the wet trails down his cheeks and the puffiness of his eyes. “Forget about it. Was it something for dance?”

When he nods subtly, you cup his face in your hands and swipe his cheeks with your thumbs. “You are an amazing dancer, Hyunjin. You can’t let this get to your head. And I don’t want you working your ass off more than you do already. Practice makes perfect, sure, but you need to rest. What about the idea Changbin came up with?���

“The YouTube thing?”

“Yes! Filming dance tutorials or just posting your routines is a really good idea,” you remind him, wiping your hands on your jeans once he falls back onto the grass with a gentle thud, hair flaying around him like a halo. Your limbs twitch with the urge to lie beside him, maybe throw an arm around him and rest your cheek on his chest, fingers tracing the soft features of his face, stroking through his hair and reminding him just how innately perfect he is, inside and out. You, of course, resist such a temptation, flopping down beside him and staring up at the clouds with a heavy heart.

“I could do that. Maybe,” Hyunjin huffs. Tilting your head to look at him, you find yourself knee-deep in that familiar longing feeling, pausing simply to appreciate how pretty he is in the evening sun, cheeks rosy from crying and hair begging to be touched. Shaking your head to rid such daydreams, you remind yourself how fragile his emotions are right now. Now is no time to get caught up on a fantasy. Reaching for your tea, you lean up on an elbow and redirect your gaze to the trees, the promise of winter having turned what was green burnt sienna and butterscotch, leaving trees barren and branches swaying gently in the crisp breeze that leaves you curling into yourself. “You should,” you hum, distant, mind clawing to come up with the words you want to say.

“Come here,” Hyunjin says now, voice stronger than before and when his hand wraps gently around your wrist, you can’t find it in yourself to resist. Allowing him to pull you back down beside him, you curl into his side, resting your head a safe distance away from his own and onto the curve of his arm. “Thank you for being so good to me,” he expresses. You squeeze your eyes shut when the arm you lie on wraps around your shoulders and pulls you substantially closer. “I need to tell you something.”

A long stretch of silence falls upon you and for a moment, you are unsure the words even left your mouth. What are you thinking?

“Wait! I have something first,” Hyunjin sighs, missing the way your breath hitches. “Okay,” you whisper, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt and focusing all your attention there.

“I just – I think… I owe you an apology,” he finally says, “I need to apologize for something that I did a while ago that I know probably hurt.” Your chest tightens. There’s a lot that has hurt you when it comes to Hyunjin, but none that he’s done purposely. None that are his fault. None that he should be apologizing for.

“I feel like we came to some mutual understanding to not mention what happened when we were freshmen, but it kills me to know that – that something happened, and we never talked about it,” Hyunjin starts, grip tightening on your shoulder and suddenly, you think you are dreaming. This cannot possibly be real. “I know it was awkward but, I also know me and Yiren dating was… ah. I don’t know.”

When he falls silent, you are unsure of what to say or do. You have no idea what the end goal of this conversation is. Hardly a minute ago, your heart and your brain decided it was time to tell him. Now, you’re not so sure you can do that until he finishes, and you are not about to give him your two cents if his reasoning for bringing it up is not the same as yours.

“I just want to apologize for not being brave enough to talk to you about it. I know I was confused, but I’m sure it was worse for you when they told you about her,” Hyunjin continues, sensing your rendered silence, “and it’s been so long since that happened, and now, you’re one of my closest friends.” Ouch.

“But I’ve been thinking,” when he picks up again, your eyes fly open in a panic. He’s been thinking. Hyunjinhas been thinking. You think you are going to pass out. “And I just feel like we… me and you, I mean—"

The standard iPhone alarm blares from beside you, promptly cutting him off and you think it is the biggest cockblock known to man. “Shit,” he hisses, leaning up to tug his phone from his pocket and in the process nudging you from your comfortable position. Sitting back up, nerves aflame and heart racing, your brows shoot up in confusion when all he does is stare at the number calling him. “What are you doing?”

“It’s the studio I was just at,” he scoffs in disbelief, barely glancing at you before looking back to his phone. You have never wanted to shrivel up and die as much as you want to right now. “Well? Aren’t you going to answer?”

Hyunjin makes a noise of acknowledgement before tapping the green icon and bringing the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Sitting quietly beside him, you watch with a forced smile as his hummed responses and subtle nods morph into enthusiastic laughs and wide, beaming smiles. Hyunjin notices your confusion when you tilt your head, mouthing a ‘What?’ to him.

“They made a mistake,” he whispers, covering the speaker of his phone, “read off the wrong Hwang. I’m in.” When he grins excitedly at you, your response isn’t as cheerful as it could be. As it should be. “Yay!” You whisper, clapping gently but quickly turning to your boba when the other line begins speaking again. Looking away, you take a hefty sip, nearly choke on a tapioca ball, and build the walls around your heart up all over again in a matter of seconds.

“I’ve gotta go,” whispering, you manage one more pained smile before getting to your feet and wiping your butt of any possible grass stains, “good luck!” When he shines you one more breathtaking smile and waves excitedly, you hastily head in the other direction, wrapping your arms around yourself and swallowing past the lump that threatens to form the farther you walk.

It must be nice, you think, frantically wiping at your waterline. Must be nice to put yourself out there and have things work out the way you want them to. Must be nice being told you’re ‘in,’ you’re wanted, you’re desired.

It must be nice.

six.

Pick up food, you said. Ask Jisung, you said.

Your conscience is a big fat oompa loompa ass bitch. You would have never called Jisung to ask him if he wanted anything from Taco Bell if you knew he was with Changbin. And not just Changbin, you realized four minutes into your call; Seungmin and Hyunjin, too. Apparently he went over their place to record, or something, and didn’t care to let you know. Not that you’re his mom and he has too—but it would have been nice, and would have saved you from spending almost fifty dollars at Taco Bell.

“I tried calling Jisung but he didn’t answer,” you snap once Seungmin answers your call with a muffled hello. “Can one of you please come out and help me carry this in?” You glance at the five large sodas and two bags full of food in your passenger seat with a grimace. “Sure,” he agrees and you make a mental note for the umpteenth time just how much you love Seungmin, “I’ll be out in a sec.”

True to his word, you spot him making his way out of their apartment and across the small courtyard to meet you by your car not even a minute later, hauling each bag under his arms. “Thank you,” left only with the cupholder, you hurriedly lock your car and follow after him. “No problem. Thanks for being our Uber Eats,” then, pursing his lips, “how much was this?”

“Forty-seven something,” you grumble unhappily, knowing this was a big hit to your debit. “We’ll pay you back, don’t worry,” Seungmin smiles, leading you up the final flight of stairs and kicking open the ajar door.

Immediately, you’re hit with the smell.

“Dear, fucking hell,” making a face, you rub your nose to keep from sneezing, “it reeks in here. How have you guys not been kicked out yet?”

The stench of weed generally does not bother you anymore, but still—they could light a candle, or something. Seungmin shrugs, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter. “Luck, I guess.”

“IS THAT YN?” From another room, you hear Changbin shout, followed by an excited shriek from Jisung. “They’re high. Very high. You’ve been warned,” Seungmin whispers just as tweedle dee and tweedle dum themselves come flying around the corner. “YN!” Jisung grins, engulfing you in a dramatic hug. “Watch,” you hiss, regarding the blunt held between his fingers that comes dangerously close to your hair.

“Sorry,” he smiles, then, without warning, sticks the thing right between your lips. “I didn’t even offer.” Well, when life gives you lemons…

You hesitantly take the hit and blow the smoke away from him. You weren’t planning on getting high today, but here you are. “Thanks,” shaking your head as if that will clear it, you turn to Changbin and snugly wrap your arms around him. Every day you thank the heavens that he is a chill, calm high, unlike your maniac of a roommate.

“Thanks for the food,” fishing into his pockets and pulling out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, he slaps it into your palm. You only hum in reply, shoving it into your own pocket and praying you don’t lose it before you remember to put it in your wallet. “Where’s Hyunjin?” You ask, no longer caring about being slick.

“In his room,” Seungmin answers, rummaging through the bags to find what he ordered. Then, “HYUNJIN!” You jump, reaching for your soda and standing away from the other three until they have claimed whatever belongs to them. No sooner than Seungmin calls for him, you hear a door being cracked open and out comes Hyunjin.

He looks extremely disheveled. Like, just woke up from a two-month hibernation, disheveled. In the blink of an eye, however, he rakes a hand through long blonde hair and promptly sets a baseball cap backwards to keep the strands away and suddenly, he doesn’t look so disheveled anymore. You force yourself to look away, cursing the way your gut twists.

“Gimme my crunchwrap,” you say around your straw, snatching the blunt from Jisung’s fingers and moving around him to fetch your dinner. He doesn’t even protest.

He knows you need it more than he does.

“That’s a lot of food,” Hyunjin says once he has finally entered the kitchen, voice groggy and eyes puffy from sleep. Or from being high, you can’t tell. Pressing his chest to your back, he wraps one arm around you to keep you against him while the other reaches into a bag to take what’s his. Swallowing past the desert dryness of your throat, you manage a thick inhale from the blunt before tilting your head to look at him and mentally thanking the other three for taking it as their cue to head out.

“Not my fault you guys eat like animals,” you chuckle shakily, trying to ignore the firmness of his body against yours, veins prominent on the arm that holds you against him and the ripple of muscle along his abdomen noticeable even through his shirt and yours. Dear god, it is too early for this. Not even seven o’clock and you are already drooling in more places than one.

Hyunjin pouts as if it is not true. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, finally moving away to grab his drink and you can’t help your disappointment, quickly finishing the blunt before tapping it out into one of the many ashtrays. “Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, digging through their drawers for a paper plate.

“YN,” Hyunjin deadpans, regarding you with a raised brow once you come up and begin unwrapping your food. You refuse to look him in the eye. “What do I owe you?” He repeats, firmer this time and it sends a chill down your spine when it most certainly should not. Sighing, you retrieve the receipt from your pocket and count everything he got. “Thirteen.”

Humming in content, Hyunjin reaches for his wallet on the counter and pulls a ten and five out. “There,” he beams, tucking the bills into your pocket himself. Rolling your eyes, you pray he does not notice how you flush and hurry out of the kitchen to join Seungmin on the sofa.

“House Hunters?” You ask with a laugh, looking at the TV once you have settled next to him. “I told you HGTV is the best.”

Seungmin hums in agreement. “I thought it was stupid at first, but Hyunjin was watching Fixer Upper and I got addicted,” he says, nodding to the older boy doing a little dance in the kitchen as he eats one of his tacos. Your heart does somersaults at the sight. “They’re all so good,” you agree after taking a few bites of your own food, eyes trained on the television, “House Hunters is a classic, though.”

“I like the international one,” Hyunjin adds on his way over, crashing unceremoniously next to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Seungmin wrinkle his nose when Hyunjin sets his free hand casually on your thigh. “Shh,” he grumbles, vaguely gesturing to the screen and chewing a mouthful of food, “I wanna hear what the house has.”

One episode turns to two, which turns to three, which turns to four, and suddenly you have been watching House Hunters with Seungmin and Hyunjin for almost three hours. It definitely is the weed, always making time perpetually slower, and it did not help when Jisung and Changbin reappeared sometime during your binge with one of Felix’s bongs. Not necessarily how you intended to spend your precious Friday night, but there is no sense in complaining when you are with your buddies and Hyunjin, of course.

Taco Bell long gone, you watch with blurry eyes when Hyunjin gets up from his slumped position against you to head into the kitchen and open the freezer. This, as well as the realization that House Hunters has ended and gone to some other, not-as-cool show, brings both you and Seungmin somewhat back to reality.

“It’s almost ten,” Seungmin announces, staring dazedly at the time on his phone. You hum in acknowledgment, certainly sober enough to reply but simply too lazy to. “I think I’m going to bed. Or play something. Don’t wreck the place,” he sighs, dragging a hand down his face before standing up. “G’night, Minnie,” you smile, watching with a furrowed brow as he continues down the hall and into his room. It isn’t until you hear his door click shut does the weight of being alone with Hyunjin settle on your chest.

It’s not like you haven’t spent time alone with Hyunjin before. In fact, that usually is the way it’s been in the past three years; whether the two of you decided to do your own thing or the rest of your friends eventually left or went to bed, you are used to this feeling. Used to ignoring the butterflies in your gut when he does something particularly cute and used to tampering down the mental images you conjure up knowing it’s just you and him.

But that doesn’t make things any easier. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t help but feel this way around Hyunjin, especially when you’re alone. That’s just the way the cookie crumbles.

“Whatcha wanna watch?” Hyunjin asks around one last spoonful of ice cream before setting the pint back into the freezer. “Uhh…” You drone, blinking heavily at the TV and back to him as he makes his way back over. “I dunno, I’m sure you’ve been watching some drama. You can put that on.”

“You sure?” He asks with a raised brow, collapsing next to you and slumping dramatically halfway down the cushions. “Yes,” laughing, you find yourself reaching out to tuck messy strands of hair back behind his ear without hesitation, “also, why are you wearing a hat inside?”

Hyunjin pauses, straining to look up as if he will be able to see the back of his cap against his forehead. “I’m wearing a hat?”

“Yes, you idiot,” in comes the endless weed giggles and you find yourself unable to stop laughing, watching with teary eyes as he sits up and takes his hat off. “I don’t remember putting this on,” he chuckles airily, flipping the cap back and forth in his hands before tossing it onto the coffee table. “Should I cut it?”

“No!” You shout a little too quickly and a little too loudly. Shrinking against the arm of the couch, you ignore his amused smile and look to his long hair, freshly bleached strands falling down to his neck and shorter pieces brushing against his cheeks. Fuck, it should be illegal to look this good. “I like it long. It really suits you.”

“It’s annoying,” Hyunjin grins despite his complaint, lifting his legs onto the couch and flopping onto his side, head now resting on your lap. “I don’t know what to do with it.”

Now that he’s offered playing with his hair on a silver platter, you don’t hesitate combing your fingers through it, tugging out pieces stuck under his head and brushing it out completely. “You could pull the sides back,” you hum distantly, separating a section of hair near his temple to pull back, “or make a bun with what you can. You just have to play around with it.”

Humming in agreement, Hyunjin resituates himself after reaching for the remote and switching to Netflix. When you go back to simply raking your fingers from root to tip in irregular directions, you don’t miss the way his eyelids flutter at the motion and make sure to pay extra attention to his scalp. When this turned into a head massage, you’re not entirely sure.

The drama Hyunjin puts on is unbearable. You stopped paying attention a while ago, focusing more on him and how he seems to enjoy it, fingers busy braiding random sections of hair, taking them out, and then braiding them again. With two finally done the way you want them to, you are midway through the third when your fingers begin to cramp up.

“Why’d you stop?” Hyunjin asks seconds after you drop the braid and stretch your fingers out. “Fingers are cramping,” chuckling at the disappointed pout of his lips, you crack what knuckles you can before going back and undoing the unfinished braid. “Oh,” he mutters, cheek still pressed against your leg, “feels good.”

Humming in response, you ignore the way his words make your heart swell and begin gathering all his hair into a ponytail, pressing the braids to lay flat and finally tying it with a hair tie once you have combed up all that you can. Immediately, his bangs and hairs closer to the nape of his neck fall out, leaving the ponytail spikey and messy. At least the braids look good. You can’t help but giggle.

“What?” Hyunjin asks, pausing his show and leaning up. “What’d you do?”

“Go see for yourself,” pointing to the bathroom, you comb out a looped piece of hair before he stands to do just that. His ponytail bobs the entire walk there.

When he reaches the door and flips the light on, you watch from your position as he checks himself out, brushing away his bangs and flicking the pony. You frown when he accidentally yanks at a braid.

“Come here,” you say, sitting up, “you messed up the braid.”

“Honestly,” Hyunjin considers his reflection one last time before skipping his way over, “it doesn’t look half bad.” Expecting him to sit back next to you, your pulse quickens when he anchors a hand to the armrest and leans in front you, only inches away from your face. “No, definitely,” you say once you have gotten over the shock of him being so close so suddenly, “I like it in the ponytail. You’d really impress the girls if you braided your hair yourself.” Reaching up to tuck hair back into the braid and press it down flat once more, you don’t miss the way his brows draw together and lips twitch down. “What?”

Time ceases to exist as Hyunjin begins to come closer. In reality, you know it simply is a matter of seconds, but all of space and time seems to still once he leans forward. It feels as if an eternity goes by, allowing you to count each individual eyelash, memorize the details of his skin, take note of the smoothed lines on his plump lips. The way time slows is cruel; it allows panic to set in, the realization that he most certainly is looming over you with his eyes on your lips sending a spark of excitement and anxiety through your veins.

And then, just as this realization and this panic has set your nerves aflame, a gentle hand comes to cradle your jaw before Hyunjin’s lips press against yours.

It is so easy to surrender to the taste and touch of him. Instantly, an eruption of emotions and thoughts spiraling out of control fills you, yet your brain focuses only on Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. This is not the first time you have kissed him, nor the first time simply having him so close, but the feeling that radiates from your heart outward is unlike anything you have felt before. This is uncalled for. This is not like two years ago. You were not expecting this.

Hyunjin sighs into the kiss when you lean up to loop your arms around his neck. No sooner have you done this, he breaks away to sit beside you once more, hands reaching for your waist and guiding you to sit over his lap.

You could kiss him all day, you think, palms lying flat by his collarbones before fisting the material of his shirt when his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. Blood seemingly coming to a boil and nerves sparking dangerously, you find yourself quickly sobering up as the minutes tick by, completely and utterly addicted to him and this feeling, this feeling you have craved but never crossed the line for. And now, it’s yours to keep.

Forgetting the braids, you seize the opportunity to rake your fingers through his hair. Different, than how you did earlier. Desperate. Combing it away from his face once, twice, swallowing his groans when you tug at the roots, you realize with a whine that his hands have left your face in favor of dragging down your sides, circling back to squeeze at your breasts, rubbing at your thighs and finally sliding back to your ass, situating you more comfortably on his thighs.

When Hyunjin finally breaks the kiss to journey elsewhere, littering chaste kisses across your jaw, below your ear, down your neck, the weight of your actions finally hits you. It is overwhelming, the way you come spiraling back to reality, and you are not sure if the quiet moan that leaves you is due to the press of something else against your thigh or simply the realization that you are making out with Hyunjin.

You have to stop before you get hurt again.

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, shuddering when his soft lips brush against your jaw, “wait. We need to talk.”

He pauses at this, fingers digging into your sides and you feel his frown against your neck. “What’s there to talk about?” He murmurs, arms sliding around you and tugging you closer, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him close and pretend like his boner isn’t digging into you.

It’s your turn to frown. “About us,” whispering, you lift one hand to stroke through his hair, “we need to talk about us.”

“I thought my feelings were very clear,” Hyunjin scoffs, all tenderness in his voice gone. Instinctively, you lean back, blinking at him in surprise. “Unless this is just another one of your games? Does this not mean anything to you, YN? I don’t think I could stomach you running off to Changbin or fucking Chan again.”

His words pierce your heart before you have even fully processed them, hurt flashing across your features and your body goes numb. “What?” Is all you can manage, scrambling to get away from him, chest heaving and eyes suddenly burning with the brine of tears. “What are you talking about, Hyunjin?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” He shouts. You flinch, not from the way he raises his voice, but from the genuine sadness in his eyes. “The past three years have been a constant battle with you. We’re best friends, for fucks sake, I figured out a long time ago that you have feelings for me. Feelings more than best friends. Yet every fucking time we started moving in the right direction, you turned your back on me.”

You can do nothing but stand there and let the tears fall. All the words and bottled emotions you wish to say are right there on the tip of your tongue, but you simply cannot bring yourself to voice them. Not when he’s right. Not when you have turned your back on him time and time again.

And then, he hisses more to himself than you, “Is this just sloppy seconds? You never once thought about my feelings in all of this?”

The anger brewing within you suddenly bursts from the dam and hisses through your body like deadly poison. “Sloppy seconds?” You snarl, fists clenching. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Your feelings? You just said you know how I feel about you, so why didn’t you ever do anything about it? How was I supposed to know you felt the same?”

“I thought it was pretty fucking obvious,” Hyunjin spits back, gaze narrowing, “didn’t think I had to spell out the fact that I like you, YN. You’re a smart girl.”

“Do not treat me like a child,” clenching your jaw, you have to look away for a moment, pacing one, two, three steps, hands raking through your hair and wiping away the stream of tears from your cheeks. You have never been filled with such rage. Having finally reached its boiling point, it now consumes you whole, sweeping off in waves and destroying all boundaries. “Confessing is not an easy thing, as you apparentlyknow, so don’t make me seem like the only idiot here. But maybe I was wrong about you if you think of me as just sloppy seconds.”

“I never said that!” Hyunjin barks, standing up to grasp your wrist when you turn away to grab your keys. “Don’t put words in my mouth! I would never, never think of you that way. I just don’t understand why you never spoke up after all this time. I’ve been dying, YN, you have no clue how badly I have been—”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” you snap, yanking your arm away from him, “I told you, Hyunjin. Telling someone you love them isn’t as easy as learning to ride a bike. You’re right, I have turned my back on you. But not intentionally. I’ve been scared, I’m a pussy, whatever.” Biting your top lip as if it will stop the tears that continue to fall freely, you avoid looking at him and glance back to find not only Seungmin, but Jisung and Changbin, too, peeking out from their doors with eyes blown wide with shock. Once you have noticed them, however, they panic and scramble to get out of sight.

Sighing shakily, you look back to Hyunjin and cannot ignore the way your heart sinks at the sight of him. Even upset, he is beautiful. You wonder how much you will see him after this.

“You don’t have to tell me you like me back to make me feel better, Hyunjin,” bouncing on your heels, you suddenly feel exhausted, body and soul heavy with the words you not only spoke, but heard, too. “We can figure this out another day, but for now, I need to go home. I’ll see you.”

Turning away once more, you do not make it very close to the front door before he stops you once more. “Wait, YN,” Hyunjin huffs, smiling softly when he reaches for your hand and you do not pull away. Running his tongue over his lip, he seems to hesitate for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

⇢ epilogue

[thenightau]

Endangered

((TW: Generalized gore, vomit))

The deity sighed within its castle of destruction. The walls were rotting and covered with vines and moss and mold. In the distance was screams of those who hadn’t lived such peaceful lives. The wind picked up the scent of blood, rot, and desestation. It lounged in a chair made of human bones, legs thrown over the arm of the chair, and its blue hair falling behind them as they stared up at the ceiling. 

“Uuugggh. Im bored.” It muttered, turning onto its stomach and puffing its cheeks out in a pout. “I should check on that SMP. I wonder what they’re up t-”

“Your dastardly-ness!” Came a small, squeaky voice of a man. And it turned its head. The man was mortal, a spirt enslaved in this hellish place. “Words come in from Builder. He needs your help-”

“What?” It asked, sitting up with a wide grin. “You’re telling me. Alexios. Needs my help?” It leaned forward, and the mortal coward back at the gleam in its eyes. 

“Yes Endanger.” He said, “Builder wrote that he needed your help containing Night before-”

“Oh.” It deflated, relaxing back in its chair. “Bo-ring. Go get him to have Protector fight his battles.” It waved its had dismissively. 

“But your dastardly-ness. Protector… can’t.”

“...What?” It asked, eyes narrowing in on the mortal like a lion’s on its prey. 

“Protector… is dead. Night killed her.”

“HE WHAT?!” 

The mortal coward under the shaking roar that was Endanger’s voice. Endanger stood, extending it’s hand as a battle axe, caked red with blood, flew into its hand. It stormed towards the door as the human stammered to explain. But Endanger didn’t hear an ounce of it. It slammed the door shut, yelling behind it to make sure nothing got better in its absence. 

___

Builder paced within the night, pulling his hair as most of the hermits slept. Save for Xisuma, who was watching over Grian and Wels like a hawk. He stared uselessly at a large map plastered to the wall, his brain trying to come up with something, anything that might help him defeat his sibling. But no matter what thought crossed his mind, it was always met with;

‘Protector wouldn’t think thats a smart idea.’ 

‘Protector wouldn’t like that.’

The thoughts made him want to scream out of frustration. He kicked at the wall holding the map, watching as the item frames crumbled to the ground. He let out a slow sigh, leaning down to gather the papers and put them back up before anyone saw his stress induced anger. 

No. He had to stay calm. Collected. For the sake of his son. 

He heard a loud, shrill battle cry. One that came from the heavens and made the hermits jolt to attention. Builder looked up, seeing a blur of blue in the sky before it landed in a ball of smoke. 

Endanger as joined the server

“Endanger! You came! Oh thank void-” Builder smiled, but that smile faltered as the war god stood slowly, skin still steaming. 

“Oh-” muttered Cub

“My-” gulped Bdubs, sweating nervously. 

“Void.” Xisuma cured, eyes wide at the god in front of them. 

Endanger was tall, as was the rest of them. With longer blue hair parted heavily to the left with the right side shaven. In its hands held a battle axe, one still oozing with blood. Covering its chest was a pale dark purple colored chest plate, wearing skin tight clothing underneath it that was tan in nature. 

But that wasn’t what horrified the hermits, no. 

It was the multiple gashes on the deity. The burned, charred hands and feet. Its face was horridly mauled, and Xisuma briefly wondered how the hell that thing saw anything. It was glaring heavily, but not towards the hermits. 

Its anger was directed at Builder. 

“L-Listen, Endanger-” Builder stuttered, waving his hands around and taking a step back from the clearly angry god. 

“You mean to tell me. I had to find out. My sister was dead. From a servent?” The god, known to mortals as Endanger, or the god of brutal war, snarled, its axe pointed at Builder. 

“I’m sorry! I was just busy with trying to get the other hermits back and-”

“Wait wait wait. Hermits?” Endanger looked at the mortals, who all inched back at its gaze. Its eyes locked onto Iskall’s, who was still mostly in his own daze and not paying attention. “You.” It pointed to the other, “You’re Iskall, right?” It asked, and Iskall looked over, nodding a little. 

“Yes. Why?”

“You’re Doc’s friend. Right?”

“I mean we’re all friends-?” Iskall looked at Builder, confused by this gods questions. 

“Then where is he? I don’t see him in your ranks.” Endanger asked once more. Iskall paused, afraid to tell this deity the truth. “Answer me.” 

“Hes… with Night.” Iskall said, eyes glued to the axe in the others hand. Endanger went quiet at that. It seemed to ponder something, only for a few mere moments before it’s angered expression turned into a large grin. 

“Well then. Lets go get my disciple back.”

___

Xisuma was crouched beside the god, and had to breath through his mouth as to not smell the heavy scent of rotting flesh that came with it. Endanger was grinning, completely hidden by the brush of the jungle. Nearby was Iskall’s half burned Omega tree, the start of Grian’s mansion, and the start of Mumbo’s…. Mega base? 

He slowly looked at the god, whose eyes were narrowed in front of it, peering through the bushes and looking about ready to pounce. Its clawed and charred fingers were curled tight around its battle axe’s handle, the sharp blade shining in the dim light. Endanger glanced down at him, only flicking its eyes over at him. 

“Do you want to know how to scare a god shitless?” It asked. 

Endangers voice was… odd. To say the least. It sounded like at least two people talking at once, it sounded sharp and cold, hissing like a snake. And yet it sounded joyful and mischievous. 

“Uh… Sure?” Xisuma asked more than said, but Endanger nodded anyways. They only waited a few more minutes in the jungles humidity, before Endanger’s body tensed, clawed feet digging into the ground as it got ready to pounce. 

“Follow my lead.” 

Was all Endanger said before an ear splitting war cry left its lips, well. It seemed like a war cry. To anyone else it sounded like a banshee screech. It leaped out from the bushes, catching Night fully off guard as it slammed its battle axe into the ground, Night barely missing. 

“SHIT-!” Night hissed, Beside them was Doc and Stress. Well… Doc and Princess. 

Xisuma rushed forward, and used his sword to try and knock Doc down, but was simply met with a sword rivaling his own. 

Endanger laughed, pulling its axe from the ground as its milky white eyes bore into Night’s through the mask. “Did you really think I wouldn’t show?” It taunted, swinging its axe brutally fast. It heard a yelp as Princess ducked down to dodge the swing, creating wither roses to hopefully still the god. The blackened thorns tore into Endangers skin, infecting the god with the withering effect. 

But it did nothing. Endanger ripped the vines from it, lunging once more for Night. The other drew their sword, barely blocking the axe in time. 

“I was counting on it actually. Just wanted to get to you first.” Night grunted, sending a punch to the other god, even if just to make them back away. Their fist collided with Endanger’s nose, and a loud crack followed by blood flow indicated they broke its nose. 

Endanger stumbled back, before glancing over to Princess, who had instead focused on trying to subdue Xisuma. It grinned lowly. 

“You hurt my disciple. You killed my sister. And you think I’d join you?” Endanger asked, its axe hooking around Princess’s waist and drawing her close. 

“Fuck. No.” 

Princess drove its clawed hand through Princess’s chest, the mortal gagging on her own blood as she shakily looked up at Night, fear flashing through her face before Endanger ripped out the mortals heart. Princess’s body collapsed onto the floor, before it vanished. 

Stressmonster101 was mauled by Endanger 

Endanger grinned at the look of horror Night was inevitably giving it. Endanger tilted its head back, mouth opening at it raising the still beating heart above its mouth. Its long tongue wrapped around the organ. Before swallowing it whole. 

“Thanks for the snack, Night. Now. HOW ABOUT THE MAIN COURSE?!” Endanger’s axe drove into Night’s arm, nearly cutting the limb in two. Night just straight up fled with their wound, vanishing into the dark of the jungle. Endanger laughed, blood dripping from its hand as it turned to face Xisuma and Experiment. 

Xisuma had ran into the jungle a small ways, vomiting onto the ground. Experiment stood in horror as the deity came closer. It rested its bloodied hands on his shoulders, falling to its knees. 

“Doc? Can you hear me?” It asked, and Experiment dared to growl at it. 

“I am not Doc.” It said, and Endanger laughed. 

“Always so feisty.” It sighed, before lifting Doc onto its shoulder. “Well. I have what I want. Hey wimp! Come on! Lets go back to the other wimps! Wait till they hear bout this!”

Xisuma groaned, slowly standing on shaking legs as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. 

“How about we don’t horrify the others to the point of throwing up?”

“Awwww-”

~~~~~

AAAAnnnd!!! I’m back and able to post one shots on this account again!! :DD 

Happy New years everyone! Take this as my present to you all! ~Ollie

[taehyungsgrowl]

remember how we talked about cocky bisexual (but more experienced with boys) Hawthorne Michael guiding reader during her first blowjob? how about that same Michael going down on reader and even though he’s usually confident about sex she can tell he’s nervous bc he’s not used to do /that/ and he doesn’t want to fuck up

bicon anon!!  (i know its you lmao ily so much) i’ve missed this concept so much and always think about bi michael langdon and the other blurb i wrote for him. it is time we revisit him. thank you. 

also im sorry its not letting me add read more but i’ll edit it later?

warnings: smut (oral: female receiving)

Y/N sat on his lap with her legs wrapped securely around his waist -  they couldn’t be any closer if they tried. His lips trailed along her exposed collarbones, large hands toying with the back of her bra, caressing up and down her back. 

Michael nibbled on her skin and allowed his plush pink lips to explore her chest. He was in love with her softness and femininity; He was used to the jagged roughness of some boys. But being with her was different. He wanted to explore every inch of her and take his time devouring her. 

Not that he didn’t love the rough or disorderly boys who would pull on his pretty hair when he had their cocks in his mouth. He loved it. 

But he also loved the delicacy of Y/N. The quiet gasps that escaped her lips with the even the slightest buck of his hips made him yearn for her. 

“I want you, Michael,” she pleaded, her head thrown back allowing him all the access he silently asked for. 

He smirked into her skin and she could feel his lips turning up. Of the two, Michael was the more.. experienced one. He lifted his head to look at her. Her pretty eyes were running wild with desire. Y/N felt a fire in her tummy that only Michael put out. 

He chuckled softly, stroking her hair back. “I know you do, angel.” he teased her by lifting his hips off the bed to rut against her. 

“I wanna try something,” he mumbled and Y/N swore she saw a hint of pink wash over his cheeks. In the moment, Michael’s thoughts were hazy with her. He wanted to feel her, hear her, taste her. His mouth watered, imagining what the sweet nectar would taste like on his tongue. 

Michael flipped her over so her head hit his pillow while he pressed his body over hers. She hissed at his black jeans rubbing roughly against her lacy white panties. 

Michael’s mouth was once again, licking and kissing her chest. “I want you to cum on my tongue, Y/N” he said softly into her skin. 

Sponging kisses down her torso and tummy, he took his time. He could practically feel the anticipation bouncing off of her by the way her shallow breaths filled the dorm. 

Michael could admit he was nervous; not of eating her pussy - no, he couldn’t be more eager to have her wetness dripping down his chin. He was anxious of not be able to do it right. Of not being able to give her the pleasure he wanted to give her. This was all so new to him, but he didn’t want to mess up. Memories of his first time on his knees for a boy came flushing back; red faced and scared to do the wrong thing. He only hoped his sweet creature would help guide him. 

“I’ve.. never done this.” he looked up at her, his fingers idly playing with the waistband of her panties. “Tell me what you want from me, angel. Let me please you, please.” 

A smile spread across her face; it was endearing to see him like this. Blushy and nervous. She swears she had never seen Boy Wonder this apprehensive. She combed through his golden locks in an attempt to ease him; something he had done during her first time going down on him. The soft gesture helped her relax and would hopefully do that same to Michael. 

She nodded her head, “I want you, Michael. I want your tongue on me, please.” she took her bottom lip in between her teeth and Michael felt his heart jump out of his chest.

Michael’s fluent hands and delicate fingers stripped her of the now damp panties. He brushed his hands down her legs as he slid them off of her. He was going to take his time with her. Eat her like his last meal. 

He inhaled her scent moving his face closer to her center. She was dripping like honey for him. He stared at her pussy like if it was the first time he’d seen it. His finger dipped at her core, collecting her arousal on it - he brought it up to his lips, testing the waters. 

A soft whimper came from him as he tasted her off his finger. He needed more. Michael was known to have a sweet tooth and he thinks he may have found his favorite dessert. 

Attaching his full lips to hers he tasted her from the source. His tongue slowly parted her entrance, letting the tip savor her. His blue eyes peeked up at her from his dark lashes. Such a pretty sight for Y/N. He looked angelic with a halo top of blonde curls kissing her inner thighs and sharp nose pressed against her flesh. 

Michael lapped up her juices with long slow strokes of his tongue. He would hum at the praises falling from her lips;

“Feel so good, Michael. Michael. Michael..” she chanted out his name in desperation. 

Her walls clenched around his fleshy tongue; arousal and saliva from his mouth mixing in a filthy cocktail. He probed and sucked on her clit - tentatively at first delving into the way she reacted to it. He giggled lightly seeing convulse on his bed, gripping his bed sheets. 

Michael was rock hard in his pants, the head of his cock leaking into his underwear as he ground his hips on the bed.  

Y/N’s tummy tied in knots, the fire burning loudly - she knew the familiar feeling of release would soon wash over her. She was high on his tongue and he was drunk off her taste. 

She came undone; her orgasm ripping through her body. She didn’t even become aware of the tight pull she had on Michael’s hair until she heard him groaning. That didn’t stop him from continuing to lick up every drop of her essence. 

Michael’s smugness returned to him seeing the way she crumbled for him. His lips trailed up her hips and tummy, all the way up to her mouth. He slipped his tongue insider her, again, and kissed her deeply. 

“How was that, honey?” he smirked at his own words; he was sure this would be a new name for her. 

Speechless. She was absolutely enraptured by him. Y/N grabbed his face and kissed him again. “Are you sure that was your first time?” she laughed against his kiss. 

His cheeks blushed pink again, and nodded. Michael’s eyes never left hers. He liked being close to her; his nose bumped against hers and he could feel their heavy breaths bouncing off one another.

“I loved it - I love you.” it was her turn to blush now.  

i kinda really liked this one so i hope u guys enjoy it (also i’ve been on this writing spree lately and sorry if im annoying bye): @langdonsdemon @lathraios @1-800-bitchcraft@wvntersldr@starwlkers @avesatanormalpeoplescareme@divinelangdon@venusxxlangdon @sammythankyou @mega-combusken @ticklish-leafy-plant @rocketgirl2410@missantichrist@ghostiesbedroom@daadddysprincesss@vampirefairyestelle @lovelylangdonx@flowersiren@americanhorrorstudies @ritualmichael @michael-langdon-appreciation @wroteclassicaly @lvngdvns @langdonsoceaneyes @syven-siren 

[shipsthatcouldshowyouthestars]

Chapters: 16/? Fandom: StarKid Productions RPF, Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins, Becky Barnes/Tom Houston, Lex Foster/Ethan Green, Bug/February (Starship), Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Charlotte/Sam (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Jemilla/Zazzalil (Firebringer), Alice/Deb (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Megagirl/Tootsie Noodles, Jack Bauer Dikrats/Slippery When Wet Dikrats Characters: Curt Mega, Wally the Green Monster, Hannah Foster, Commander Up, Taz, Howard Goodman Additional Tags: This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Cynthia Is A Bostonian, lots of swearing, Sorry New Yorkers, Alternate Universe, Canon Divergence, All The Teens Are Friendly, lots of fluff, this is my coping mechanism, Poor Lex Foster, tim is a frickin baby, strong women !!!!, quarantine vibes, slow burn paulkins, most of the characters are teens, co-authors hate cape cod, ethan said respecting women rights Summary:

“Alrighty, bye, Curt,” Cynthia picked up her box of stuff, and strolled out the door, brushing past her agent and the green doll that hovered in midair.

“Wait, wait, Cynthia, you just can’t do that-” Curt protested, not feeling like being left alone with a sentient doll.

“I sure as hell can, Mega.” Cynthia gave him one last cursory glance backward. “I’m moving back to Boston, where I belong, and you can clean up your mess!”

--

i, im out here showing off my fic because i !! love it. so much.

@thegalwhoreallylikesmusicals deserves all good things for writing with me this is now an appreciation post for her <3

[sunshinechii-scenarios]

Spin the bottle

✿ NCT’s Mark x Female!Reader ✿ College AU ✿ Fluff, making out ohoho, maybe slow burn? ✿ 4.7k words ✿ Not requested ✿ Written by Chii ✿ Masterlist! 

TW: Drinking, DONT UNDERAGE DRINK AND DRINK RESPONSIBLY NERDSSSS IS2G IM UR ONLINE MOTHER I WILL GIVE U AN EARFUL-

This is kinda my goodbye to Mark from Dream. He was the best Dream leader we could have asked for and a cherished member of OT7 //imsoemo - Chii

✿ Description: Mark Lee, one of the most sought after boys in your school. People saw him as this mega hot, overly cute, super smart person. You saw him as that little kid who cried when you accidentally spilled his milk in the 3rd grade. All throughout elementary school and most of middle school, you didn’t see the hype around him. That's because you’re his best friend. It wasn’t until the end of middle school, when you two had to go to different high schools was when you noticed your infatuation with him. When you two reunited in college, he was still the same person except that every week he had a girl in his arm. You let those old feelings fade or so you thought. You two still acted like best friends which meant a lot of playful touches, shared giggled and unspoken feelings. 

✿ Bonus excerpt: “Because I care for you like friends should, maybe a little bit more than I should,” you say the last part at a whisper, under your breath. Half of you hoping he would hear it and half of you hoping he wouldn’t. 

“Friends?” He barely croaks out, the alcohol must have dried out his throat for him to sound so hoarse.

“Yeah, Mark. Friends.” The word felt bitter on your tongues. Both yours and Marks but neither of you know that. 

“Right, friends. Is that all we are? All we’ll ever be?” 

         “Mark, do I have to go in? I can just drive you and pick you up after.” You try to negotiate with Mark. He wants you to go with him to this party, as in, go inside. You aren’t a party person. It’s not your scene.

“Come on!” he gets up off your bed and holds onto your arm, “you’ve never been to a party and all the testing is over. Take this chance to unwind!”

You look at his big eyes and pleading expression before sighing out, “fine.”

A smile is plastered on his face as he gets up and starts to go through your closet, “um, Mark Lee what are you doing?”

He doesn’t respond but continues to look around the hangers for something specific, a dress you bought out of sheer impulse one day. Mark was the enabler for the purchase. His hands came across the familiar fabric and took it out of the closet. Your eyes land on the dress and you gasp, “oh no. Mark I can’t wear that.”

He shrugs, throws the dress on you, takes your phone and slams your door shut, “the dress goes on or I tweet out every meme photo you have of yourself!”

“Mark Lee!” You scream out at him. You try to open the door but his hand was on it and preventing you from turning it. You eventually give up and walk to the dress. You bunched the fabric into your hands and slip it on. Once it was on, you look at yourself in the mirror, feeling more self-conscious than usual. You scurry away from the mirror to knock on the door to let Mark know that you were done.

“You look great,” Mark says almost breathless but you didn’t catch it as you went back to stare at yourself. The sound of springs meant that Mark sat back on your bed and the clack meant that your phone was back on your nightstand.

“Can I wear something over this? Like a cardigan?” You say as you start to walk over to your closet in hope of finding something that could cover up your entire body from the world.

“It ruins the vibe you have going on!” Mark exclaims as he stands up. You see him strip off his denim jacket and drape it over your figure. You sigh and put your arms through the holes before shuffling it on and bringing your hair out of the back.

“This looks much better,” you say into the mirror. The size difference made the jacket land at your lower hip area and it was a men's box cut which diverted away any attention from your waist. You noted the faint smell of Mark which wasn’t anything bad. You could pick up the apple shampoo you had to use at his house whenever you guys had a sleepover back in grade school. So many years and he still used the same one. The thought of how many other girls carried the scent as they walked by you in the halls caused a tinge in your chest.

“You look good!” he happily says as he stares at you while you look at the mirror. He sees the frown on your face grow into small smile on your lips, something he wishes he could keep on you forever. The look of confidence glowed on your skin.

“Should we go?” Mark says. You nod, still unsure but push through with it. Maybe you could find someone to make out with to forget about Mark for one night.

         You park your car outside of the house Mark gave you the directions to. You were careful enough to try to leave space between your vehicle and others but it didn’t look like anyone cared once you stepped out of the car. You pull the skirt of the dress down, Mark catches sight of this.

“You look fine, it’s not that short of a dress and you have my jacket.” He says as he pulls out his phone to call someone.

"Hey, we're here," Mark says into the phone. You hear the other side from your distance from Mark. It was loud and you could hear another voice screaming for you two to wait at the front door. Mark's eyes lit up and laughed as he agreed and hung up.

“It’s cold, aren’t you?” You ask him. He nods his head but you see the bumps on his arms forming.

“Liar, I see the goosebumps.” You took off the jacket and drape it over his shoulders. He complied to putting it back on until he overheard some whispers about your exposed back coming from some random guys on the lawn. He quickly put it back on you.

“I’ll be fine, promise.” You tore your eyes from Mark and to the front door, as you two wait, you felt an unsettling mood.

“Mark, I might stay back.” You announce, you start to turn and walk back to your car but Mark hold onto your hand before you could take one step away from the door. His hand feels warm and comforting against the cold night air.

"Sorry for dragging you here, I know you aren't a fan of parties," Mark apologizes to you with a guilty expression on his face. You melt under his apology.

"It’s okay, I’ll just stick by the walls in the back," you say as you check the time on your phone. 12:05 AM.

Mark was starting his sentence when the door flung open quickly. Someone happily greeted you two as you walked through the door. He and Mark did some handshake before Mark introduced you two.

“This is-,” Johnny cut Mark off by handing him his drink before going to hug you.

"This must be the best friend!" Johnny says as he went in for a hug. He was so tall that you needed to go on your toes to properly hug him.

"Yeah, that's me,” you weakly say.

“I’ll let you guys get acquainted. I’m gonna find the others.” With that and a shove of Johnny’s cup back to him, you could already see Mark walking off to find his other friends. You sigh and look at Johnny.

“Do you think you could lead me to any part of the house that isn’t too crowded? Parties aren’t my thing.” You pull on the hem of your skirt and look at the ground before looking back up at Johnny.

“My parties are great! Do you want a drink, maybe?” Johnny was being very friendly towards you, you know that he just wants you to have a good time but you just weren’t fond of parties in general.

“No, it’s fine.” Johnny nods and guides you to the area that leads to the backyard. You thanked that Johnny was so tall, there was such a crowd as you two walked through the house. Once you two reach the area, you scan it. There was only a few other people, all on their phones or chatting someone up.

“Thanks,” you say to Johnny as you lean against a wall.

“No problem. Find me if you need anything else okay? I don’t know what Mark would do to me if you anything happened to you.” Johnny says as he takes a sip out of his cup.

“Probably not much,” you scoff before pulling out your phone, ready to scroll endlessly until someone would ask who came with Mark and you’d have to drive him home.

Johnny felt a bad taste in his mouth at your words. He held back from edging you to explain yourself, “I’ll be around if you need me.”

        You had scrolled through every social media there was at this point. Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, even Facebook. You were getting bored and getting tempted to ask Johnny if you could knock out in someone’s room upstairs. Your eyes scanned the room, looking for Johnny’s head to be standing out above the rest but you didn’t see him. You let your feet start to guide you to push through the crowd and find a room. Your phone dings, it was a mass text to everyone at the party. ‘All rooms are locked! You’ll have to hook up somewhere else. #Sorrynotsorry’ You scoff and sigh. You find yourself a comfortable chair instead of finding a room. Lucky you, it was one of the sofas that was by the dance floor.

         You see girls grind up on Mark and bat their eyelashes at him. You can't blame them, if you had half the balls they did, you would do the same. You lean on the wall and tore your eyes from him to direct them towards your phone. You continue to endlessly scroll down your Instagram feed. You didn't like parties, didn't like drinking hard liquor. Hated the loud music and inability to see.

"Liquid courage?" You lift your head to see Johnny in front of  you with a red cup in his hand. It was halfway filled with something Yuta whipped up. He wasn't even entirely sure what was in it but he thought you might need something to calm your nerves. You were wall flowering hardcore.

"Sorry Johnny, I don't plan on drinking tonight," you point to Mark on the dance floor, "designated driver."

"You can crash at my place, one drink won't hurt. You look like you need it." Johnny moves the drink in his hand forward towards you. You sigh and take it. You take a sip before gritting your teeth at the burn down your throat. Johnny watched you react and laughs loudly.

He takes a while to calm down but when he did he took one last laugh and looked at you, "you like Mark don't you."

You choke on your drink and hit your chest before looking up at Johnny. He looks back down at you with a small smile, "I haven't known you for long but I can see the jealousy written all over your face."

You sigh and trace your thumb around the rim of the cup before looking out at Mark having fun and laughing. It’s been so long since you've realized your feelings towards him and it's hard to ever mention them, not with all the girls he talks about all the time. He's so sweet and kind. Sometimes he's like a prince charming, saving you from anything and everything. Johnny took another look at you and practically reads your mind.

"You've got it bad, huh?" Johnny takes another sip from his cup. He uses your shoulders as an armrest.

"Yeah, I know to keep my distance. I'm no good for him," you lowly say. You shake Johnny off and shove the cup back into his hands. You feel your mood sour. You want to leave.

"Thanks for the party, it was great. Tell Mark that I'll be in the car," you quickly say to Johnny. He looks at you in shock as you weave through the crowd and out the door. His face shifts with worry as he downs both drinks and walks up to Mark who was in the middle of the dance floor.

        "Alright, alright ladies back off Mark," Johnny says as all the girls around Mark whine before going off to find someone else to dance with. Johnny watched as the girls made their way to Lucas, Sicheng and Taeyong.

"What's up with that?" Mark asks as he stares back at the girls he was dancing with.

"You know you've got a perfectly good girl waiting for you," Mark's face shifts with Johnny's words. Everyone in their friend group knew well of his crush on you. It's almost painful to Johnny as he's stuck in the middle. He just found out that you two share the same feelings for each other and has no way to telling anyone in the group.

"She's not interested in me, told me I wasn't her type," Mark paused and looked at Johnny, "keep her company for me," Mark left Johnny in the middle of the dance floor as he went to get another drink. Johnny flings his arms up in defeat before rushing out the front door. Johnny needed to think of something quick. He quickly texted Lucas to ask for a party game. Once he responded, Johnny ran up the stairs and looked over at the crowd.

         "Let's play a game!" Johnny suddenly shouts from the top of the staircase. He walks down as people follow him onto the patio in the backyard of the house. People start to follow him. He walks up to you and slings an arm around you, forcing you to walk with him and the crowd. You look back and saw Mark with Yuta. Your eyes met, he smiles but you didn’t and instead look away. You look at Johnny, unsure but want to go along with it. He keeps you at his side as he grabs an empty bottle off the patio table and tells everyone to sit in a circle. You instantly know what was going on, you wanted to bolt out the door but Johnny held you down.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." His voice was hushed, lowered in attempts to calm you down. It did until he decided to open his mouth again.

"Spin the bottle, kiss the person it lands on or take a shot. Simple enough." You yank at Johnny's arm, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Mark was right, it was hard to say no to you. Johnny remembers one time when Mark let you win in Dance Dance Revolution because you used your pretty eyes to your advantage but he isn't Mark.

"Let's start with you!" He pats your back harshly. It was enough to send you forward and on all fours in front of the bottle. Thank god Mark wasn't in front of you and was luckily about six people to your right. You take a deep breath as you flick your wrist to spin the bottle. It spun and spun until it stopped. Multiple oh's came from the circle. The mouth of the bottle found itself face to face with a girl that you've had class with once. You didn't have anything against kissing girls but you didn't feel right, you didn't know her as well and she looked uncomfortable.

You look back at Johnny and spoke, "I'll take the shot."

Johnny's eyes widen and so did Mark's. One of the girls next to you pours a shot for you and hands it to you.

You look at it nervously before taking it, "bottoms up."

You tilt your head back and down it. The drink stung but people started to cheer and you felt on top of the world.

"Your turn," you motion towards the girl and sit back next to Johnny.

"Impressive," he lowly says. You roll your eyes and nudge him. You look up at the wrong time and find Mark staring at you in shock. His mouth started moving but no sound came out of it. Something along the lines of when did you drink hard stuff? You shrug and bought your attention back to the bottle.

         The bottle spun and spun, some people kissed and some took the shot. It didn't land on you more than a few times. You opted for the shot every time. Mark did the same. His eyes followed the bottle in hopes it would land on you but it never did. He took the shot every time. Mark was now leaning on Yuta next to him, obviously not okay. It was Johnny's turn. He had just been kissed by Taeil rather passionately and wanted someone to erase that feeling or something to forget it.

         You weren't paying attention when Johnny elbows your side. Before you know it, his hand is cupping your cheek and he pecks you quickly on the lips. Your cover your mouth in shock and look at him. He grins and eyes Mark in his peripheral view. Johnny lean into your ear and whisper for you to go. You slowly take the bottle into your hands until someone shouts loudly. Turns out that Mark took the bottle of tequila from someone's hands and chugged half of what was left of it.

"Let's go," he says as he looks at you. Johnny nods and tsks at him while waving his finger.

"No driving for either of you," Johnny says as he gets up. He walks over to Mark and picks him up.

"Keep playing guys. I'll be back," he looks at you, "come on."

You get up and stumble a little bit but catch yourself. You step out of the circle and follow Johnny up the stairs. Halfway up, you look back downstairs. They kept playing and drinking as you three left.

"Catch," Johnny suddenly slings Mark around your shoulders and gives you a key.

"You two can sober up in my room. It's the one with the knob on the left side of the door, just don't fuck in my bed." You hit Johnny's upper arm as hard as you could.

"I keep the rooms locked during parties," he says as he walks back down the stairs and waves to you. He could have at least helped you with Mark. You hold Mark up as best as you can while you unlock the door to his room. You turn the key and the door opens, you use your foot to keep the door from shutting on you while you lead Mark inside.

         You sit Mark down on the bed. The mattress shifts as your knees dig into it. After you sit Mark up against Johnny's headboard, you got on the bed and then you cross your legs. You were about to ask him how he was feeling until he started to say some dumb stuff. You giggle and throw your small side bag on the ground.

“Why did you drink that stuff Mark? You have the worst tolerance.” He didn't respond with any words, just incoherent babbling. His head falls forward and slowly lands on your shoulder. You want to record some of Mark being totally out of it to show him later but you weren’t in the mood to anymore when you see a purple mark on his neck. You let the hand holding your phone move towards your face to start endlessly scrolling until Mark was sober.

         It took him an hour to get up by himself. His head lifted off your shoulders, immediately threw himself at you and hugged you. You were now laying on the bed and it took all your strength to support your weight and Mark’s.

“You’re such a good friend,” his hands tangling themselves in your hair as he buries his head in between your neck and shoulder. You two stay quiet for a while. He starts to let go, he was sobering up finally but you did miss the warmth of his skin when he sat back.

“I’m sorry I made you come to this party with me. I’m sorry you always have to drive me and that you can’t have fun,” he says as he looks at you and frowns. You can hear the genuine guilt in his voice. You couldn’t count on two hands the number of times he’s asked you to go inside with him. You did it to save your own heart if you were being honest but you push it aside and knew that you would worry all night if Mark didn’t have a way get home safe.

“Mark,” you pat his shoulder and his eyebrows furrow even more, the warmth of your hand was all he could focus on, “it’s okay. I just want you to have fun and be safe.”

“Why would you want that for me but not yourself?” You hold your breath at his response, you aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol talking or not.

“Because I care for you like friends should, maybe a little bit more than I should,” you say the last part at a whisper, under your breath. Half of you hoping he would hear it and half of you hoping he wouldn’t.

“Friends?” He barely croaks out, the alcohol must have dried out his throat for him to sound so hoarse,

“Yeah, Mark. Friends.” The word felt bitter on your tongues. Both yours and Marks but neither of you know that.

“Right, friends. Is that all we are? All we’ll ever be?” Mark sounds desperate, he pleads for an answer that would either crush or lift the world on his shoulders. He was a little tipsy, you were a little tipsy. You figure that if you needed to say it, it would be now. All those held in feelings, daydreams of you confessing that you thought would stay daydreams, all had to get out somehow. Now was the chance, not exactly how you imagined it but maybe it was the low buzz and the slight bitterness of alcohol on your lips that pushed you.

“No, Mark. I was us to be so much more than that. Mark. I love you.” You regret saying that as soon as the words left your mouth. Your whole world stops and you freeze.

"I'm sorry?" His voice was low and unsure, a trait you rarely see in Mark. You look at the expression on his face, he’s shocked beyond belief. You couldn't tell if he was about to reject you or accept you. Right now, both of those seem like situations in which you would start crying.  The tears started to blur your vision and you quickly turn your head. You feel him move on the bed and hear his voice call your name.

"No wait, oh my gosh, hold on." You take a deep breath. Not wanting to look at him, you push him away but his hands find your wrists and hold onto them. His neck cranes down to try to meet your eyes that found sudden interest in Johnny’s bed sheets. You look up at him with teary eyes. His heart gets hit with guilt. Looking at him made you cry, hard. The tears stream down your face. Your eyes start to burn and your breathing is shaky.

"Just please be my best friend right now," you say in between weeps and hiccups, "not the guy I just confessed my love to."

Mark takes you back into his arms. He lungs himself forward, his knees digging into Johnny's bed. His arms take you into his comfort as he keeps you close. His face on your shoulder as one of his hands holds the back of your head. You hesitated to touch him, so you didn’t. He mentally sighs when you didn’t. He pulls away and looks at you.

“I never stopped loving you since elementary school,” he says loudly. You know for sure if someone was outside the door, they would have heard him. Your heart felt like it was being squeezed and you needed to be pinched. Was this happening because he's still under the influence? No. Mark was sober.

“But all the parties, the girls you would introduce me to?” You say while using the sleeves of Mark's jacket to wipe away your tears. The denim felt rough on your skin but Mark's hand didn't. It came up and cupped one side of your face, it was warm and a little bit wet feeling as the tears kept falling.

“Bad rebounds,” he sighs out, you could smell the alcohol from earlier but let it pass.

“You really never stopped?” Mark’s eyes could see your lips shake when you asked that question. He didn’t know what came over him but he used the pad of his thumb to trace over your lips, almost free of lipstick.

“I thought you did, back in middle school. You told me I wasn’t your type,” Mark says as his voice lowers. Mark thought hurt a lot more to say it out loud. He feels your body stiffen up. You quickly move his hands away from your face and look at him dead on. Mark’s breath got caught in his throat. The moonlight from the open window was the only light in the room. It cased a shadow on the left side of your face, your features out for Mark to admire.

"Oh my god,” you start to say. Mark knocks out of his bewitchment.

“You absolute idiot that was in middle school when I knew no better!" You smack his shoulder as you cried even harder. Mark panicked, you were crying the same way you cried back in middle school when you found out you two were going to different schools. Mark comforted you the same way he did back then. He let his forehead touch yours. He looks into your eyes and sends a mental message. You steady your breathing but still hiccuped every now and then.

“You really listened to me in middle school.” You say in between catching your breath. There was laugh at the end of your words. Mark was about to laugh with you until you looked up at him with those eyes that he fell so hard for. The laugh that bubbled at your lips died down and you were looking at Mark, if possible, with more adoration than you ever had before.

The question that formed in your head, came out without you thinking, "do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?"

Mark didn’t answer as his hand came forward to cup your cheek, the other on your waist, holding you close. He wipes away the last bit of tears from your face before moving loose strands of your hair away from your face.

       The world stopped when you and Mark locked eyes. There was a whole novel behind the meaning of the look in your eyes. He leaned forward, so did you. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips touch yours. You moved your head to mold them with his, the perfect fit. He doesn’t go beyond your lips. You only have imagined this moment before but to be living in it was a dream. You let your hands tangle in his hair as he pulls you into his lap. The kiss gets deeper and deeper. The two of you losing yourselves in each other. So much that you don’t realize Johnny opening the door. He stands at the door frame, watching you two like lost lovers for a second before coughing.

“We weren’t going to-” you start to explain.

“I know, now either come back to the party in each others arms or you can stay in here tonight and rest up,” Johnny paused, “but still don’t fuck.”

The three of you laughed. Mark asked if it was okay to stay in the room, he had a pounding headache that he didn’t realize he had before. You agree and bid Johnny a nice night before he closed the door.

       When the door closed, everyone of your friends were outside waiting for Johnny to give them news. Happily cheering in silence that you two finally said something.

       “I think I have an Advil somewhere in my bag.” You say when Johnny closes the door. You crawl off the bed and look for your bag on the floor. You feel the zipper and start to open it, looking for the small bottle you carried around with you because Mark was prone to headaches. Mark looks at your figure on the ground, looking for the Advil you carried for him. You didn’t see it as anything major but Mark did. He always did.

“I love you.” You smile but wipe it off your face before getting up and throwing the bottle at him.

“It’s just an Advil, Mark.” You say as he takes the necessary dosage and dry swallows it.

“You know what I mean, girlfriend.” You smile back at him before pouncing on him. He lands back on the bed with a low grunt that gets silenced by a quick peck on the lips.

“I know, boyfriend.”

THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC YET YO- THE JAEMIN HARRY POTTER AU WAS ONLY LIKE 3K IM SHAKING THIS IS SO MUCHBFDNSM, I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT! I’LL SEE YALL NEXT TIME UWU - Chii

[franeridart]

Hey! So sorry if you already answered this but what application and tablet do you use??

I use Easy Paint Tool SAI and a pretty old wacom intuos tablet! Both questions are answred in my faq, actually~

Anon said:You. You awesome person. You are my new fav artist. 💘💘💘

AW thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:I love your art and the style, it’s all so cute and it might give me a heart attack

He c k let’s hope not! Thank you so so much!!! ;^;

Anon said:hey, can ya do more tokage, pls

Sure, I mean to draw more 1B in the future anyway~

Anon said:nori is soo adorable!! I love your art and seromina so much and seeing them combined makes me mega happy!!! I gotta ask though, how are sero and mina as parents and how do they handle nori’s quirk?

They’re disasters as parents but they try their best and are always having fun - Nori adores them! In their house not a minutes goes by without someone laughing, they’re all super loud and cheerful always~ neither of them has any problem dealing with Nori’s quirk, Sero has spent a whole lifetime learning how to deal with sticky stuff and tape and glue so he knows all the tricks to save clothes and furniture from accidental quirk usage and so on, while Mina’s own quirk makes it easy to counter any glue that might end on her - the main thing actually is that the quirk itself was a surprise! Since Nori looks a lot like Mina, both she and Sero had expected her to have acid like Mina so when she started gluing herself around in places and walking along walls and stuff it was a surprise (they had expected to have to deal with the house being constantly half destroyed by acid though, so glue is nothing compared to that haha)

Anon said:Heyy I saw your twitter account and was wondering if you could link some of those “fics about them boys sharing a bed..“ I’ve been following you for a while now and absolutely love your work (: I hope you don’t mind lol. I need more kiribaku in my life gahaha ❤️ thanks !!

I didn’t really bookmark any and most were old things I had read in the past and spent time rereading lately, but the newest one I read is this one - honestly though at this point 99% of the fics set in the dorms have them sharing a bed, you just need to open ao3 and scroll down less than a page to find stuff lol

Anon said:If you’re not an Adventure Time fan this ask will make no sense to you (so skip it), but when I saw your drawing of Katsuki with a guitar, I immediately thought he was singing some edgy Marceline song, like the teasing-aggressive “I wanna bury you in the ground / I wanna bury you with my sound” (which he actually says at some point I think XD) or the romantic and melancholic “Slow Dance with You” and Eijirou M-E-L-T-S.

Not an AT fan, but the concept is adorable so I’m keeping the ask anyway

Anon said:Do you think you might draw more of your fantasy AU children while you’re playing with you’re new pencil tool? It would be neat if you did! Regardless, I’m grateful for anything you draw!

Yup! Can’t promise when it’ll happen but I love the fantasy AU and I love childhood friends AU, so the chances of me going back on it are pretty high!

Anon said:Are you going to draw Mako and Taiyou again? They are so wonderful.

YAH that’s definitely in the near future plans! Thank you for liking them!!

Anon said:I just…I love all your art. It’s so amazing you’re awesome

THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!! ;^;

Anon said:Stavo scorrendo il tuo blog e ho notato che hai risposto ad una domanda in italiano? Ho seriamente pensato fossi inglese tutto questo tempo! Amo seriamente i tuoi disegni, i tuoi oc sono meravigliosi e non vedo l'ora di scoprire più di loro.

AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH grazie infinite omfg ;^; specialmente per i miei oc, è sempre incredibile per me sapere che alla gente piacciono abbastanza da volerli vedere di più ;^;

Anon said:Hewwo! I’m a huge fan of your artwork!! I was wondering if you have any time could you draw some more of those dorm room scenarios?

Anon I’m sorry but I need you to be more specific, which dorm room scenarios are you talking about? Most of my comics at this point are set in the dorms hahaha

Anon said:I just noticed that on every artwork you sign “do not repost” and I hate it.I don’t hate that you do it, but the fact you NEED to do it. Artists all over the Internet say to not repost their art but people still do it…I hope this will stop someday Sorry for my english btw

Yeah well, I guess as long as people keep on following and giving notes to reposters that’s not really gonna change is it orz

Anon said:You should draw Present Mic x Aizawa *awkward finger guns*

Hell I really should, shouldn’t I

Anon said:my god im gay for your kiribaku like they’re so good aibdjsbsknwnx and i love the interactions between the bakusquad ahh keep being awesome :)

HECK THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!

Anon said:Honestly, this might be an odd question I don’t know, but would you ever consider putting your art together in a art book to sell? Cause to be honest, there’s not a piece by you that I don’t adore and I’ve seen some artist do things like that before so I didn’t know if that was something you’d consider. Maybe like all your BNHA pieces or something?

It’s not like I never considered it? It’s more like I dunno how worth all the work to figure out how to make it/where to print it and then to actually make it would be compared to the interest people would have in buying something they can have for free on my blog? It’s just doodles after all haha

Anon said:Would you be willing to draw a little lavi (dgm) doodle for me? Anything tiny, I just love him and your art!!!

I’m not doing requests right now, sorry, but soon enough the new chapter is coming out so I might draw him around then!!! I always fall in a serious dgm mood around the time of the chapter release haha

Anon said:More abuse of the ask function: 1- I love your art and have been for months. On top of that, it often feels cathartic, which is amazing to me. 2- I love how balanced you can make KiriBaku. You even manage to make me appreciate that overrated attention hogger that is Bakugou, you can handle him so much better than the author, because your character dynamics make so much more sense!! 3- I always, ALWAYS find myself reading through all your tags. They’re awesome. Thank you for everything.//Avevo finito lo spazio nell'ask precedente, so I’d only like to add that aside from cutie-smoochy (“It’s not about whether you break” and “I don’t need you” might be my favorite, and for what’s worth, I remember writing something exactly like the latter in the past), you also make mu burst into laughter. Like, the comic where Katsuki is about to out Eijirou on his red hair, I am still rolling. Kiri’s giant mouth is seriously hysterical XD

Thank you for the compliments!! I’m glad I can make you like a character and a relationship you’re not much of a fan of in the actual manga? ? ? Bakugou’s actually one of my favorite characters ever though so………. maybe……….don’t offend him and the way Horikoshi writes him while talking to me………….orz

Anon said:I am starved for Bakukamikiri stuff in this fandom……..But you got some good shit.

I’m!!! happy to be able to help there!!!! haha

Anon said:They mama Mitsuki art you drew 👏💯💖☺️💕👌 I love your art so much

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Yessssss you have Twitter! It is boring at the beginning but then you’ll love it! I can’t wait to see you here and there! Now all my Bakushima favorite artist have one I can die of happiness!!

I’m!!!!!!!!!! Still trying to figure it out but!!!!!!!! For now it’s not that bad? Just!!! Very different from tumblr so I’ll need to get used to it first!!!!

Anon said:Omg do u shade jirous hair like its a heartbeat line? Dhdisbdisb thats so fuckibg good

THANK she actually has it in canon too, tho, so I can’t take credit for this!!!

Anon said:Im crying on how you draw kirishima’s soft hair

S O B I’m glad you like it!! ;^;

Anon said:Can I ask what your stance is on bakugo’s mom being abusive and sorry if you’ve answered this before

I love Mitsuki with my whole heart and while I don’t think she’s perfect I do think she’s loving and caring and trying her best and always looking out for what’s best for Bakugou 👍 no abuse anywhere, for me

Anon said:OMG I LOVE SEROMINA LOVE CHILD NORI

Thank you for liking her???? heck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:I wish I could use your art for my phone’s background ;^; You’re amazing! I love youuuuuuuuuu

No one’s stopping you from doing that, anon!!! Unless you don’t have a phone that allows you backgrounds, in which case ;-; thank you for liking my stuff that much tho!!

Anon said:Hey! I followed you way back when your main output was haikyuu!! comics and once you started putting out more bnha, i had to unf because i had no idea who everyone was rip. but now that ive finally had the chance to watch it i’m glad to come back and see how much you’ve improved!

HECK THANK YOU???? I’m glad you decided to come back????? oh man that’s super flattering !!!

Anon said:Yolo bakusquad bakubowl ?

I don’t really like the whole concept of [character]bowl, sorry!

Anon said:I absolutely adore your art style😍 every time I see your art it makes me happy:)

THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said:Can you draw Hawks and Tokoyami together? You are rlly creative and amazing! So I believe you will produce sth. awesome!!!! (If you don’t want to draw Hawks, could you draw a Tokoyami fusion?)

I can draw that! I’m just waiting to know how tall Hawks is compared to him before doing that 👍 be patient pls relative heights are something I’m stupidly fussy about 

Anon said:Burn the whole world to ashes for you? R U serius?! You always killing me dude. I ascended to the heaven of soft things. I N C R E D I B L E. Im sorry for the break down, i was without tumblr 2 months and the firts thing i do is go to your profile. Keep doing this plis im trully love it 😭💖

mAN I’m so glad you liked that one this much, drawing the boys being unreasonably soft with each other is my fav thing to do tbh !!!

Anon said:Omg I can totally imagine Nori and bakushima’s daughter being friends!!!

THEY ARE !!!!!!!

Anon said:Your seromina is amazing!!! I love that ship I feel like it is so underrated! Thank you for this blessed image!! 😭

No prob!! thank you for liking it!!!!!!! I’ve been in such a seromina mood lately, I might actually draw more soon enough!!

Anon said:Omg imagine a Tetsuwase love child. Something tells me they’d be adorable and one rather angry child, considering who their fathers are

I can see them as being quiet and grumpy………. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Anon said:Hey just wanted to tell you I love your art. It’s so soft and beautiful. My dad doesn’t ship any characters from the series, but he does like the series and he thinks your art and style are really pleasing. We were talking about how nicely you shade and that the style is well developed and lovely to look at. Thanks for making such great art that makes me smile and giving me and my dad yet another thing to bond over.

YO THAT’S SUCH A COOL THING TO HEAR!!!! Thank you to both you and your dad for liking my stuff????? h e c k !!!!!

Anon said:Thanks to you I started reading haikyuu.

I hope you’re enjoying it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[macden]

[1/9] THIS IS SUPER LONG IM SO SORRY okay so like. hello haha i just read your post about how Something needs to happen and im here to rant if i may lol so like, im pretty new to the fandom so i wasnt here for when ddl came out but ive read enough posts and things to get where yall were at. i would see some of the sunny blogs while i was watching (so like i was already spoiled about brian jr lol but i got spoiled when i was watching like s4 so its whatever at this point) and i saw how everyone

[2/9] listed their reasons why dennis is not straight and stuff and i remember people mentioning dennis knowing about the rainbow. now, at first i was like. knowing about the existence of the rainbow doesnt sound like definite proof that he’s not straight lol like afterall, he owns a bar, so it’s not outside of the realm of possibility that he knows about other bars in philly lmao but then. BUT THEN i saw the episode lmao and like.

[3/9] similar to the “but he already knew you were gay, so it must be something else” in tends bar, we get a moment where mac assumes charlie knows what the rainbow is. but charlie doesn’t know what the rainbow is, which he makes pretty clear. it’s not a big deal at the time, but when dennis brings it up it raised a big red flag in my head lmao like. okay. you’re showing me there’s significance in mac knowing what the rainbow is but charlie doesn’t, then why does dennis know?

[4/9] like WHY does he know. i get yall now lol. there’s so many little things that are meant to distract the audience while also giving us information, which is one of the reasons i love this damn show kjnfks BUT ANYWAY (im sorry im ranting so much) im of the idea that dennis HAD to leave so that Something happens (just like you said!). ddl just proved it to me when i finally watched it lmao so. hear me out.

[5/9] we all know mac is delusional, no matter how much rejection he gets from his own parents he still believes they love him in their own way, so in his mind, it would make perfect sense for him and dennis to be a thing without having to acknowledge it per se. he gets him the rpg without any mention of it being non romantic (!!!), he makes their apartment the exact same and gets only bed (basically what u said lmao). so like. mac would be There.

[6/9] like he’s already there in the mindset of them being together for the rest of their lives. but this would just tank them. like dennis is going through a different process now with his meds and potential therapy. the fact he decided to try and be a good person by leaving for his son is a huge step for him. which also comes with him having to deal with his own reality, but thats another rant.

[7/9] for a storytelling standpoint, him leaving makes sense since he’s setting up something new for sunny: actual development. of course since it’s sunny it will most definitely blow up in his face and he won’t be able to be “a good man” by being “a good dad” because it’s just not in him. yet (maybe?). still, mac would never EVER date someone else if dennis was still in the picture. im like. 100% sure of this, which is what ddl showed me. sure, he’s ready to go at frank but it’s for money.

[8/9] mac wouldnt really *date* anyone else if dennis was still present in the gang. i dont think he would even feel the need to, which is why dennis had to leave. as a writer it makes sense so that they can explore out mac dating someone (!!) other than dennis. and also to possibly (maybe???) show dennis and how he’s re: mac as well. like, for us it’s easy to see that there’s something there, but your casual viewer won’t really see it unless it’s RIGHT THERE, which this situation also opens up. 

[9/9] listen. i can rant more LMAO but im scared at how long this became HAHA im so sorry. i got mega carried away lmao and i dont want to clog your inbox too much with my dumb thoughts rip my overall idea is just like yours: there IS something there, and Something will happen. i just stopped myself from going on another tangent about how rcg love to go off the typical tv tropes so like queerbaiting wouldnt really sound for them… plus the whole them being them thing… i should just leave…

first of all don’t apologize because you are SO fucking right this is excellent meta second of all fuck you i’m emo rcg have rlly written the best gay slow burn of all time….. they did That 

[klanceficatalogue]

Got any slow burn with lots of pining and mega angst? Bc I want to cry.

hnhjhhnng these probably arent as angsty as what you want but i just love fluff so mu c h im sorry - Karri

slow burn tag

never saw you coming by dimpleforyourthoughts (1/1 | 47,873 | Mature)

Three months in space on his own would have been fine. Three months in space with Lance McClain is a whole other fucking story.

//homophobia //violence 

Please Drink Responsibly by enjayas (13/13 | 42,069 | Mature)

The members of the Voltron crew are in their early twenties, and like many in their youth, they don’t drink responsibly…

Lance insists he never blacks out. Keith calls bullshit. Lance decides he’s going to prove it. Drinking ensues, they share a drunk bonding moment, but how much does Lance actually remember?

1.5 oz drunk Lance1.0 oz Keith’s unrequited crushShake vigorouslyAdd a dash of ambiguity and mixed signals then leave to slow burn…

I’d Tap That by VulpesVulpes713 (1/1 | 37,961 | Teen And Up)

Keith has never really been good with words. He says what he means, and more often than not, what he doesn’t mean, leading to several uncomfortable situations.One of said occasions happens on a planet during a mission, where Keith’s attempt at complimenting the blue paladin is entirely misinterpreted, but Keith isn’t able to properly apologize before the mission goes south, resulting in Lance being subjected to the ‘gifts’ the locals possess.So now Keith is at an impasse, with his communication skills severely lacking in the comforting department, and his growing feelings towards Lance making everything so much more difficult than it needs to be.If only there were a way to talk to the blue paladin without using words…

.. ..-. / — -. .-.. -.– / …. . / …. .- -.. / -.- -. — .– -. / .-.. .- -. -.-. . / -.- -…– / – — .-. … . / -.-. — -.. . / … — — -…-. .-.-.-

(minor shallura)