#also her shirt says very nice things dont worry about it

[l-ost-art]

Wanted to draw a northen-norwegian/finnmark miku just so i could put fish in her hair and then I had no idea what else she would wear... so she ended up being pretty casual, like what would I wear when going fishing with family up north kinda vibe???

I also just started school again the very week everyone was drawing miku so haven't had the time, but I still feel like it's worth posting you know? :')

[todayisafridaynight]

One of my fave jackets is this green jacket with a fur hood im wearin rn because 1.) its green 2.) my dad gave it to me 3.) it reminds me of saejima. Who also reminds me of my dad

[mydarlingclaudia]

taste like the fourth of july

note : dividers are from @/rookthornesartistry. I FUCKING LOVE LANA DEL REY AND I LOVE HER UNRELEASED SONGS GUESS WHAT THIS IS INSPIRED BY!!!!!! SUGAR DADDY CHRIS!!!!!!! OOC DONT WORRY ABOUT IT!!!!!! this is really short but I've had this in my drafts since 9/9 and I finally got it of motivation to write it so it was either getting written tonight or not at all and if you saw this as a wip in a wip tag game and you thought it was gonna be smut sorry lmao

wc : 1.2k

tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy @withonly-sweetheart @onlyasimp4nobody

desc : sugar daddy. established-ish relationship, fluff, a bit suggestive, age gap (mid twenties - late forties), fem!reader, re8!Chris, not proofread

You love him ‘cause he tastes like your favorite liquor, and also because of the fat wad of cash he’s willing to hand over if you just bat your eyelashes at him. Well, that might be the reason, anyway. Not one of the sweetest men you’ve ever been with, but definitely one of the best.

Chris will buy pretty much anything for you. Expensive shoes you’ve been staring at in magazines? Yours. A watch that’s way too expensive but you like the color? It’s on your wrist the next morning. A cute new swimsuit? It’s yours as long as he gets to watch you model it.

There seems to be only perks when it comes to continuing on with whatever is going on between you and Chris; the money, the gifts, the vacations, the sex. Only downside is him going away for work, but that’s only a small downside, it doesn’t scare you away. Chris isn’t leaving you uncared for, anyway. The $1,000 he gives you the night before he heads out is supposed to be an apology, that’s what he says, at least.

Chris isn’t totally sure why he’s still doing this, he always thought of himself as a more traditional guy, you know, get a girlfriend that would eventually become a fiancée and after that a wife. But when he met you at this nice little restaurant, sitting all alone at the bar, eyeing him the whole fucking night, what was he supposed to say to you when you tapped him on the shoulder and asked him for a cigarette? No? It was a lucky enough guess that you even assumed he had cigarettes on him, maybe the smell of the smoke clung to his clothes more than had thought.

You hadn’t even asked if he was married, you probably saw his ring finger that lacked a wedding ring and took that as a green light.

It’s probably better this way, Christ, you’re twenty-six and he’s forty-eight. Chris could waste a few thousand dollars on you, give you a few years of his time, there’s not much else that he does besides work.

And you’re pretty, you’re worth the money.

So who is he to deny you? It really is a win-win.

But it’s not like you and Chris are exclusive, you were both able to sleep with whoever you wanted, no hard feelings if you do or don’t. And you did, for a little bit, before you started questioning whether or not Chris did the same. You never noticed another woman's clothes in his apartment, no lipstick-stained shirts in his hamper, nothing. You stopped seeing other men maybe a week after Chris had found a few fading hickeys on your hips and left darker ones where they once stood.

Okay, saying you love him might actually be a bit of a lie, but you’re pretty sure he’s lying to you too when he says it back. You’re not one to look things over too much, even if he does truly love you, that just makes your situation better.

Another great thing is date night.

You love vacations just as much as the next person, but Chris' job doesn't guarantee any amount of time longer than a week off. So vacations are a treat, typically a birthday present for either you or Chris, go somewhere with a great beach and greater drinks.

Date night is at the very least once a month, Chris always calls you a few days before, tells you the time and place and you just stand there and nod before blowing him a kiss over the phone as a goodbye before hanging up.

He takes you out, buys you dinner, gets you a new dress or a new necklace depending on how you're feeling that night, then drives you through the city before heading back to either his or your place.

You will admit that you find it funny when he doesn't know how to react to what you do. If you want something, say it, okay? Don't send him nudes, he's told you time and time again that he prefers seeing you face-to-face and not on a tiny screen that doesn't capture the whole view. You think he prefers it that way because then at least he can reach out and touch you instead of trying to type things out on his phone only for them to end up being deleted seconds later.

The morning after date night is never awkward, at least not usually. You either spend the day at Chris' or he takes you out shopping again before dropping you back at your place. You still feel sore most mornings.

This is one of those mornings, you can still feel the burn between your legs and the sting of bites, scratches, and beard burn left behind. Chris isn't there when you grope around for him in bed, but he's quick to come to your rescue as you hear the sink in the bathroom turn on before the door opens and he steps out.

"You up?" He's straightening his shirt out when he asks you, not looking at you as you sit up in his bed.

You stretch and rub your eyes, "Mhm," You mumble, Chris finally looks at you.

"You usually sleep like a log."

"Can you blame me?" Another mumble and he smiles, walking over to you and placing both his hands on the side of your face so he can lean down and kiss the top of your head. "Goin' somewhere?"

"Got called in, something important, apparently." He sighs, you push forward and lean against his ribs as he brushes through your tangled hair with his fingers.

"It always is."

"Mm, don't pout."

"Don't want me to miss you?" As always, whenever you tease him, he only responds to you with a light scoff before he smiles. Chris pulls you away from his ribs so he can cup the back of your neck and get you to look at him, his thumbs trace over the edges of your jaw and you hum.

"You still want something from me?"

"A pony," Chris rolls his eyes this time, kneeling so he can wrap his arms around you once you giggle.

"We're going out again once I get back." You think you hear him murmur, "Not to get a fucking pony." under his breath even though you can feel his breath in your ear, but you know he's saying that more to himself than to you.

"Surprise me?"

"Sure," Chris pulls back and kisses your cheek before his lips meet yours, his kisses are as slow as they always are. Chris breaks the kiss for a second only yo mumble, "Do you feel alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go back to bed for a bit." You press a kiss to his closed mouth as you play with the ends of his short hair.

"I gotta go," You sigh and kiss him again before you pull away from him, he kisses the corner of your mouth before he stands up. "Go have fun today."

"I will."

"Good, I wanna see what you bought later." You lay back down again as Chris starts to pull his jacket on and head for the bedroom door.

"Don't be too late," Your back is already turned towards the door when you call out to him, you don't see the smile he shoots you over his shoulder before he leaves.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Sending this because I think Tumblr might’ve eaten it, but did you ever receive a request for the TADC crew with a small, but EXTREMELY feisty S/O? Tumblr has a bad habit of eating my asks when I’m on anon I’ve found. 😭

TADC crew w/ a short and feisty reader!

hello hello anon! im so so so sorry for not seeing this sooner :( i truly did not mean to take so long to answer this! rechecking through my inbox, i dont see the original request :( but ill be answering it here so not to worry! getting silly by hopping onto my laptop/computer since its in the dining room rn and this way i can keep an eye on my macarons (literally not baking them, drying them out before i do and i wanna make sure no one touches them)

CAINE:

honestly in the most blunt way possible i think he might actually be into it. he always liked him someone who has a little bite in them (and by always he means like, when he first met you because its highly likely youre his first partner)

if you get all riled up trying to defend him he might comically tug on the collar of his shirt, of which steam will stream out of... doesnt have much of a preference for height, but with you being on the shorter side it makes carrying you around a little less awkward!

POMNI:

absolutely taken aback when you just let it rip one day and you go off on someone (most likely jax lets all be real here for a minute), just stands there appalled before you eventually calm yourself down and turn your attention to her

not to yell at her, she hasnt done anything wrong

honestly... nervous anxious ball x angry defender is probably another trope of mine that i think about every so often, but honestly i love it so so much. thats literally just the embodiment of you and pomni's dynamic

not much to say here unfortunately </3 just that you tend to defend her when things get ugly and you dont tend to stop until the issue is resolved

RAGATHA:

honestly maybe im biased for ragatha because ive grown on her since ive opened requests, but i think that she would be the queen of getting you to chill out when something has you all riled up! is so so kind and doesnt make fun of your height, i mean its not like you or anyone can change it. very good at not making you feel less than for being shorter than nearly everyone else

holds

if you get angry on her behalf and attempt to defend her she would be so so touched, but really most things probably roll right off her back, so she just takes you and walks you away from the scene

JAX:

honestly he thinks its a little funny that you get so worked up over things! probably calls you an ankle biter as a joke, which might make you a little mad. definitely picks you up by the scruff or the back of your shirt or whatever! really any equivalent of that works! jax has an entire arsenal of nicknames for you, all based on your height and energy. he loves seeing the way your face scrunches up a little in disdain when he calls you one of those names. all in good fun, for the most part, but he might let up if its something that makes you genuinely upset...

KINGER:

okokokokok so we dont know anything about queenie (i think, i must admit i dont keep up with gooseworx at all and am only relying off of the pilot) but i hc her to also be more on the feisty side

is this relevant? really it depends, because i think kinger would be comforted by the familiarity of your attitude, but also this could be a gateway for angst because it makes him think and dwell on the loss of queenie.... up to you!

subconsciously kneels down to your height to talk to you; he doesnt mean to be rude! it just sort of happens! thinks your fierceness is endearing in its own silly way!

ZOOBLE:

probably thinks that you can get a little overwhelming sometimes. i mean yeah sure its nice to have someone in your corner whos ready to help you out but zooble seems to be the type to not seek that help out; and in fact i can easily see them getting annoyed by someone constantly speaking for them. so you guys are going to need to communicate and work on this together lest there be a build of resentment

remember guys resentment is a real thing and it can ruin so much !! communicate!!!

that aside, i dont think they would comment much on your height, they really could not give less of a flying fuck

GANGLE:

torn between having her be intimidated by you or having her also find it endearing (and perhaps even attractive? shy person liking the one who always speaks their mind, you know?) while im not writing these to be explicitly romantic, i dont quite totally comfy with the idea of intimidation in a relationship.. though this can be applied to platonic relationships too... hmm... mayhaps a mix of it all? not quite sure! probably goes to you for tips to be more bold, love the idea of someone teaching gangle to grow a backbone

similar to zooble, no comments on your height!

[dullgecko]

Heyo so u wanted to come if on anon for a while now but also wanted to have another headcanon or idea to share when I do, but I think I’m pretty taped out for new ideas.

Anyway here I am surprise 🎉

I still regularly check out your page and I always enjoy seeing the new posts and responses plus any updates to the chaos horde au.

Also I know I said I’m out of things to share at this moment but I did have one small thing for my new favourite of Tiktik;

I remember a post about goblins having very strong opinions on fashion and the idea that once they find a look they like they stick with it and go full force with it.

So Tiktik decides to stay in elmville for a while just to visit the gang, particular her pretty cleric and see how they just generally live their lives etc.

Part of this is going to a mall or clothing store to get her solace appropriate clothing. My initial thought was to Tiktik was going full goth mode since she’s used to wearing dark clothing anyway like most goblins do to blend in with shadows and night and I imagine her loving the intricate shiny jewellery, studs and spikes she can add.

But then I thought hang on, for the first time in her life she doesn’t have to worry about camouflage or standing out to much or she’ll possibly be eaten, and now has access unlimited to all these new and exciting clothes (Fabian offered to buy her anything she wanted and get it tailored to her size later, he claims it’s just a welcome gift but secretly it’s more of a thank you for helping get me and Riz together gift).

So she goes for the brightest most gaudy clothes she can find, I’m talking rainbow leggings, several different kinds of bright plastic bracelets on each arm and necklaces along with the loudest patterned shirts and skirt/shorts anyone’s ever seen.

She comes out of the dressing room and while everyone saw the clothes she picked out it’s still a shock to actually see it all together and before anyone can say anything to try and talk her out of her fashion choices, Kristen does her best impression of a suggestive/impressed goblin growl genuinely finding the outfit she’s wearing to be HOT (she wears tie dye and a yellow tracksuit, her fashion sense aren’t the best).

Also thing honestly was only meant to be a small thing but it kinda got away from me 😅

Xx

God i love it so much but also AHHH HI <3

The goblins up in the mountains actually have fairly nice clothing. They might not have cotton, but they have a kind of silk harvested from creatures they farm in the darkness of their caves. Very strong and rip-proof so it can withstand their claws and it feels wonderful against your skin. Adventurers used to find bolts of the silk in goblin caves and attributed it to them stealing it from elven settlements.

The stereotype of a goblin wearing threadbare rags is only because adventurers were constantly encountering them after destroying their homes and trying to exterminate them. Textile arts take time and if you're constantly running for your life and moving you dont have time to make any new outfits. It gets put on the backburner even more so if your species doesnt have much of a taboo about nudity.

Its almost always dyed mostly greens and dark browns so their camoflage doesnt get disrupted too badly but it's all tailored to fit well, and tight, so it doesnt get snagged on anything.

Other than the silks they'll usually also have leather clothing. There's plenty of it to go around since they hunt for 99% of their food so its usually what smaller kits wear since they'll grow out of it fast.

Tiktik comes to Solace and there's just SO MANY different fabrics and colours, so she spends hours just wandering around a store running her hands over things to test how they feel (some of the textures are repulsive and Riz agrees). She finds some stuff she likes and goes a little wild on the colour choices ands up stepping out of the changing room and its just like

Riz is kindof glad he's wearing light-filtering glasses.

[cheatingexploitation]

would love to hear abt your made up strident crisis lore! especially anything pertaining to hellbreaker

not the hugest stridenthead any more but i will say what i have because why not.. lets a go

REMEMBER! IF YOU MIDDLE CLICK, YOU CAN SCROLL REALLY FAST!

in other words im not putting a read more thing on this post cz i dont feel like it... however! if theres an issue with this i havent anticipated lmk and ill edit the post. i might be trying to be funny in a slightly obnoxious manner but i do not mean to create a real nuisance...

so while witnessing the mod for. technically the second time but the first time after figuring out what was going on with those daves and bambis i was a bit surprised to see that the mod where the wiki says "it actually has a story" had 0 dialogue or anything so i was like. ok. ill make one up in my head

the gist: classic dave bambi lore Except bambi is not a nice wisdom god he's actually a mean war god. hence why everything surrounding him is much more.. aggressive

when pissed off he doesnt just throw his stupid phone at you. his body contorts and shakes and catches fire like some freak of nature. scary

here i have decided bambi is just a vessel of sorts to contain a dormant god and boyfriend hopping into his farm specifically to piss him off somehow wakes up the god Just a little (probably not entirely though? not enough trolling)

lord bambi being a fucked up tyrant here is also inspired by the title of the song "thearchy", which is a word meaning like. you know a monarchy. imagine that but with a god. rule of god. badass word actually. also i think it's funny to interpret mods where expunged is probably supposed to be a god as them like... not being one (im evil)

i did make some kind of design for him based on that opposition form... never really finalized it (i think it looks Too modern blah blah) but here

anyway expunged is actually not the worst guy ever they're just taking bambis form because (???i forgot) anyway they figure out that Hey actually lord bambi was pretty cringe (horrific and bad and scary) and so phonophobia is them having a Strident Crisis about this ROLL CREDITS THEY SAID THE NAME OF THE MOD

also! heebie. hellbreakie. minesweeper. probably the reason you sent this ask it's ok shes cute and fun i get it. i thought it would be funny if shes madden here so she's madden here. specifically she was an executioner for lord bambi because even though he could do it himself it would be worse if he made someone else do it and for some reason this is his goal i forgot why sorry but this is actually where the name hellbreaker comes from here. that's her title... the hellbreaker. after lord bambi dips no one likes her so for one reason or another (i don't think i decided?) she goes to the void and goes funny 3d mode and Actually i think i made her and expungie friends because that would give expunged a reason to freak out during phonophobia because wow how could i be so mean to this guy i respect. or something. yeah

heres stident maddis Which i have certainly put here before probably but for the big post. yeah

dave also had some part in this whole thing, mainly for the sake of justifying Why the Expunged Is Different, but also i have 0 recollection of what that part Was exactly. i just remember saying something like "wouldnt it be funny if strident crisis dave was emo" (which i said meaning he wears like a darker blue shirt as i think it's very funny when people call any dark clothing emo though sometimes i worry i am only contributing to the watering down of the complexities of alt fashion ? sorry)

anyway i also made designs for strident crisis beef nd geef because i thought it would be cool to base them on the colours they get from hellbreaker's shader. fits the tone better i think !

the plot here would probably be less of a mess if i like, cleaned it up and made something out of it, but also i don't really want to soooo for now all you get is this jumble of words. still think the mod is pretty cool even though i just prefer not to interact with it Too much for Reasons I Forgot but are most likely not important to the general public so don't worry about it

maybe i should do the same thing for spamtrap since i dont plan on finishing it even though spamfriend is one of my favourite children? find out next time on cheat's blog i suppose...

[vaingod]

What are some of the things you've noticed about these middle class city gays and their lifestyles? What are some of the things that stood out to you the most that is completely normalized? Because I see these pretty gay boys from the global north on Instagram and how perfect and white their teeth are, iPhone, MacBook, nice restaurants, nice gyms, holidays, expensive clothes that look very plain but you know that plain white t shirt was somehow $100 to me its like when Katniss sees the people in the Capitol and I just can't relate...especially since theyre all so skinny and pretty and have nice things!

Ok im saying this all as an immigrant thats lived here for a decade and still experiences this disconnection between city gays. Its the money, its always the amount of money they are comfortable throwing away on tech like you said but its more than just some rando city person buying themself an apple product once every 3 years or something. In order to live the life that you noticed these people tend to live you need 1 of the 2.

1. Rich parents. Most city gays that you see on Instagram are these. They usually go to school or have a job like one day a week type deal but they dont worry about rent or bills ever, no number on paper scares them to say the least but they are also really weird about you paying back like coffees or miniscule shit.

2. Are in debt. Most of my friends that are middle class are this

Like i wont forget meeting this girl through a drag actor friend of mine and she was cool and one of those all pink people so we vibed nicely until she started pulling up pages and pages of clothes and shoes and furniture that cost more than ive spent my entire life and talking about all the things she wants like a bratty child and i was losing my grip on reality before she talked about her hot pink custom paint job porshe and how her dad payed for it all cus she wasnt gonna drive a boring straight car. Like this attitude specifically is what drives me up the wall cus as someone whos jumped to and from alternative scenes a big appeal was making my own accessories and clothes and fucking shit up and looking trashy but alluring to other people like me. even when i went through my fem diva phase i exclusively thrifted vintage clothes to embody a 60 year old diva i didnt spend hundreds of dollars to look good?? My 90s thrifted furcoat ive worn for 7 years cost me 10 bucks.

As for middle class or poor gays that are in debt that keep going in debt to allow themselves the luxuries that they see gays with (their parents) money can allow themselves, i feel like its a very complex social dynamic that isnt easily explained by poor prople are allowed nice things or everyone deserves luxuries. And its harmful however its explained because very often the sentiment from middle class gays in regards to overspending obfuscates what a luxury is, not a few times have i heard from gays with debt "if i had the money i would take a private jet everywhere i wouldnt give a single fuck if i had access to things that rich people had I would use them just the same or more"

Class division is really like that tho, id compare it to how middle class suburbians dont want better public transport and shut any finances that go into it cus they dont want poor "suspicious" people coming to their neighborhoods. And that shut down of public transport only hurts them and their community but they do it anyway. Ill say it outright most middle class gays in debt that do everything to spend money to live a fantasy of not being in the same social class as poor gays are doing so intentionally.

[youofsomesong]

Friends Describing Starkid Characters (part 4)

(There will be spoiler pictures from Nerdy Prudes Must Die, so look at your own risk. They show up after Curt)

james

typical nerd

he has a letterman (i mean its in the photo)

this looks like the harry potter one (yup)

this information does not help me at all though (yes it does!!!)

gregory (front) and william (back) (noooooo)

they are in a relationship (oh 100%)

the gun in the underwear is for later tonight theyre spicing things up

(i have the better picture of peter, dont worry. but i wanna see if theyll realize its the same character)

montgomery

nerd but he knows your name, address, social security number, and credit card information and it not afraid to use it

megan

tired barista (SAME)

good at names and faces (not same) (same bestie)

knows martial arts

quincy francis iv

a cowboy with absolutely NO cowboy skills

saw a horse once and went “cow!!”

oh theyre also gay gay homosexual

nobody knows about their relationship though (well...)

elizabeth (left) and grace (right)

theyre into cosplay

businessman businessman businessman

slightly below average at his job but covers for it by being likeable and social (jfhkjasdhf thats not true)

his name is ronald

marco

theatre kid

rebecca

a proud trans woman who will take no shit

OH MY GOD WAIT

THATS UMBRIDGE ISNT IT (...maybe)

jafar (whats with my friends and thinking achmed is jafar???)

tried to sneak in an aladdin picture with the starkid. im onto you (youre not though cause thats achmed, not jafar)

bridget

likes reading

not very popular but a nice person

patricia

she has a pufferfish on her head

shes a strange one

still kind of popular though??

jasmine and jafar (this one im 87% certain) (youre half right bestie)

they pulled a switcheroo

that other one was aladdin and i was wrong (you were wrong but youre still wrong)

rachel

big fan of the little red riding hood story. made it her entire personality (jksdhfjdksh bestie)

thats a classic jack right there

total asshole (a bit, yeah)

sells drugs to minors (but he doesnt. he loves hannah like his own kid)

that previous guys brother but this ones a good person and keeps getting pulled into his brothers crap

his name is riley

definitely has pronouns

not straight (oh he 100% is not straight)

generally well liked but has one specific enemy (more like we love him but we hate him)

looks like a noah to me

self proclaimed “party animal” (everyone hates him except like one person whos pretty neutral about him) (lies. we all love him)

name is... liam (derogatory)

andrew garfield in disguise (askjfdhakjs)

thats all

“tall dark and handsome” (has platforms in his shoes)

daniel

NERDY PRUDES MUST DIE PHOTOS!!!! CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK

thats a whole zombie fr fr

name was revoked

but his name WOULD have been zachary

watched “the last of us” and liked it way too much

became his favorite character

straight man (derogatory) (kajfhasdhf i dont believe max is straight AT ALL)

the woman is bi (grace is repressed bi, what did i tell yall?)

her name is haley his name is michael

he needs to put his shirt back on (no he does not. he is hot)

goshdarn jessica

Mean Girl ™️ (i mean...mariah was regina george...she was in mean girls...)

manny

generalized anxiety disorder (if he wasnt first labeled as obnoxious teen i would say yes. but he did have that whole waiting for hot chocolate line(s). oh and xe did not connect that the petes were the same character. i did not tell them that either and idk if i will tell him)

MARKIPLIER?

thats it

dyed hair and pronouns

quinn

at this point in time i did tell them that nibbly and blinky were not female even though both are played by women (and the fact that i hc nibbly as agender)

thats a rowan

absolutely slays

also has pronouns

liked wreck it ralph

naruto fanboy

his name is blake but he asked people to call him by the name of his favorite character

(nobody does)

this one is a big fan of sonic

has a sonic themed backpack and lunchbox

morgan

jeremiah

i see an anime shirt hes an anime stan (well thats obvious)

has at least two twitter accounts dedicated to anime (honestly wouldnt be surprised)

[abimee]

been trying to write about this but i dont think its coming out very good but speaking of chgefant and ruyan theres a small thing i think about that i guess im a bit shy to write about because i have in fact sort of combed through the chefant/wol tag and havent noticed much in the Gender Variation besides a few fics with sweet little trans wols. but i get worried going into the complexities of ruyan because i dont want her to get mocked or have people assume things about him. but during ruyans little romp as a warrior of light he dresses in what i can only say is ''bad'' like this

the checkered pants.... white sneakers... THREE layered shirts and a big duffel jacket. its utility. if he goes somewhere cold he just puts his jacket on tighter if it gets hot he takes it and some shirts off. easy. its stuff he sort of just threw on because he hasnt experienced eorzean clothing before and doesnt have an eorzean concept of ''fashion'' and moreso dresses for comfort in a ''its easy, its textured nicely, i can take it off easily, etc'' and so the last thing she thinks about is how the clothes look.

but its also sort of obcious that this isnt the kind of clothes she wants to wear but has to wear because shes an axe swinging warrior of light and needs to consider utility and stuff over style out in the field, but as she lives longer in eorzea and takes in the fashions and trends and engages with larger communities of people not bound by one singular communal or cultural concept she forms a longing for certain forms of dress she feels ''unable'' to wear as the warrior of light. and i think this especially developes around heav ens ward when shes practically surrounded by other women of high nobility who wear dresses and heels and slippers and get to do nice things to their hair, but ruyan never gets to try that out because shes just going to get thrown into morbol mucus and fall down a mountain and batter all her clothes, and stuff like slippers and skirts arent helpful or kind to you in the field

but it also starts to eat at that developing part of her brain that recognizes that she can be seen as interesting to others where she worries what she wears is making her come off as ''unsightly'' or ''weird'' to others, especially with the inconsistent patterns and colors how scuffed her shoes are. and she worries shes painting a picture of herself thats ''gross'' or that people will treat her a certain way because shes coming into rooms as a woman with pants soaked with mud up to the knees and hair that looks like it hasnt be washed in forever because she fell in dragons blood an hour earlier

but anyway i think ruyan does start to show interest in trying to vary her clothes a bit with even something as simple as a pair of leggings and skirt outfit she sees is popular with a subsection of fashionable m'iqote but he worries that hes not really... fit for clothes like that? if that makes sense. cannot elaborate or were going to spend 50 years talking about body image and self hatred via lack of support with how you look from a young age by those around you (not just in a trans way but in many ways) anyway i think chefant notices this and how often ruyan oggles little things like a nicely made spring dress or a woolen pair of leggings but never buys, alongside how he talks about how he dresses for ease and not anything ''flattering'', but i dont think chefant tries to push anything on ruyan like suprising him with the dresses or makeup she was looking at because thats not the way to help at all, but i do think being with chefant does help ruyan recognize that like, she doesnt have to be scared of her reflection and that he isnt something ''scary'' or ''ugly'' to look at in the mirror, he doesnt have to be scared about wearing something that shows off his legs because he doesnt look like an alien creature in it. shes allowed to curl her hair and she wont look like a grandmother like that.

she doesnt have to worry about clothes and makeup like itll accentuate the ''bad'' parts of her because there is no ''bad'' part of her, theres nothing ''wrong'' with her combination of features and wearing slip on shoes or the color orange isnt going to suddenly reveal to everyone that hes the ugliest person on earth. and its not through any direct way like chefant going out of his way to sing a thousand praises to every inch of ruyan but moreso just the fact that someone seems willing to touch and look at ruyan in ways that she was scared would reveal how ugly she is, like when shes sleeping on her side or in tight pants. she dressed and held herself in a way that appeased people because she thought he was fooling the world into pretending hes ''not ugly'', like a sort of obsession with the mirror where youre not allowed to hunch over or sleep with your mouth open. ruyan was able to defeat this idea that she cant have chefant see her when shes not ''performing'' (a fake idea anyway but you know), but with how kind he is about how she looks and dresses and spends time with her and exists near her without grimacing or prodding at his looks. chefant never says anything about his ugly pants or only come off as desiring ruyan sexually, but willingly touches her face when shes sweating or kisses her in the morning when she first wakes up. like its just the fact that someone is willing to get close to hr and her body for no favors but simply because theyre interested in being near her to LOOK at him without recieving any sort of gratuity from it, slips off that decades long terror ruyan has that everything she does is gross. because shes simply never been told shes ever looked pretty so it takes a really long while for her to take a compliment but i think chefant would know how to help her get there without just showering her in them and forcing her to ''accept them''. i think in return ruyan finally starts wearing little patterned woolen leggings with a knee length skirt every once and a while and it makes chefant fall head over heels again because her legs look really nice in them

[nickeverdeen]

Hello! And yes, you can have a (Romantic(If ok))match up exchange(Tho it may take a bit of time cause I am working on a one shot write now that im really happily about so far :))

For the Match up fandoms can I have Detroit(I recently made my way back into this fandom by the threads of being borde and Bryan dechart being a meme/adorable) and the Umbrella academy(Any season)

I will say, character I dont want 100 percent from detroit; Kara(She cute but no), Hank(he's just so...angry) and the obviouses(GavinAliceAmandaEtc) and umbrella academy; Luther and Sir Hargreeves..... thats it.

Im an Aquarius born, ISTP(Or INTJ...im confused cause I toke two test and got two different answers) who is panromantic(With a male lean) and uses any pronouns(but more commonly She/her by peers)

I enoy reading, writing, horror anything(im watching a series with my mom and it gets really gross and the only thing im getting grossed out by is the mud that one person falls into), I weirdly like being feared(there was a rumor around in a small friend group that i have major angre issues and none of them would step close to me(I do but only if really triggered))music(I mainly enjoy rock, heavy metal and grunge with a few goth sounds, but I do like a few pieces like Emotional waltz) I enjoy cooking and having been a help in the kitchen,I find it amusing when I get to learn soemthing new with or from people, I like photography and I do alot of drawing, and I love bugs.

I dont like mud(Like said before), loud crowds, crowed spaces, the sun, rude people, red meats, being put in the line light, and country music.

My personaly is very much a rubber ball; will and can bounce around unpredictabily(As a child I was diagnosed with being Bipolar and to have ADHD), but majorit of the time, I look like a man in his 30's that only drinks either whiskey or coffee(and so ive been told in the hot way(ngl)), im not one be patience with people that waste my time and I have not patience for people that waste my friends time, I am very loyal and I find I can be very protective of my friends and if they're being mistreated I do get angred by this(I wanted one person D*ad for using my best friend for her own fun), but under my scary(Not my words) appearence, im actually very nice and easy to talk to.

My aesthetic is mainly a grungy cottage core like look with a few really bring vintage marvel shirts I stoll from my dad.

When Im looking for a relationship, I want someone that can keep up with me, cause sometimes I can be very all over the place and sometimes I like to just drift along, I want someone that is willing to learn things from me while I can learn things from them, and I search for loyalty in someone, not just to their partner but to their friends as well.

Hope you have a great day/night and respond to you soon!

Your Detroit Become Human match is…

Markus

He also enjoys reading and maybe sometimes writing

Markus isn’t really into the whole horror thing

Violent Markus would totally understand if you like being feared

But pacifist Markus doesn’t really get it

He can cook, but would be very happy if you’d decide to join him

Doesn’t get why you don’t like mud, but doesn’t make any kind of deal out of it

Markus himself doesn’t like crowds so he gets you with this one

Is aware that you have ADHD and are Bipolar, but to be honest he doesn’t really give a fuck

Appreciate your loyalty as he knows he can count on you

Don’t worry, he can keep up with you very easily

Markus is willing to try and do new things so that one is check

He is also very loyal to you and would never cheat on you

Gets really protective of you as well considering there’s marching or revolution going on

He cares for you a lot, but wouldn’t spoil you

You’re Markus’s comfort person

The one he will come up to if he’s very desperate

Or needs an advice

Or just comfort

Your The Umbrella Academy match is…

Five Hargreeves

Watches the horror with you and chuckles at the fact that you’re only grossed when the person falls into the mud

Five gets the fact that you like to be feared ‘cause so does he

Man can’t cook for his life

Please teach him or help him with it

Makes sure that no-one is rude towards you

I mean no-one has a death wish here

Keeps you away from loud crowds and crowded spaces

Five also finds it both hot and amusing that you look like a man in his 30’s that only drinks wiskey and coffee

He seriously likes your attidute and loyalty

Oh, he does understand your overprotectivness of your friends and loved ones

He is ready to kill/scare anyone if they would hurt you

Keep up with you? You would need to keep up with him

Five seriously doesn’t mind teaching his love new things

You can’t really teach him much considering he knows how to do a lot of stuff already

Comes to you with his problems

He trusts you fully

Would never cheat on you

He spend most of his life alone and to destroy your relationship ‘cause of someone else seriously ain’t worth it

Five loves you a lot

Be ready ‘cause his siblings would tease you two about your relationship

Mainly Klaus

[bonny-kookoo]

Would you consider writing a smut-shot of singler father JK, meeting shy! Y/N (who's his kids teacher) & falling head over heels / developing a crush on / for her ?

Hm... I've not maxed out the dilf!kook's yet so sure! (might even write more for this one cause he's cute bye) also this one is a lot lighter than my other smut-shots!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 🔞

Jeon Yuri is a little ball of sunshine, but oddly enough only when it comes to you. It's only natural that her father Jungkook is so friendly with you, right? It's normal that he's always close at your side at the schools little events here and there, right? And it's totally normal that he's inviting you to his place for dinner, while Yuri stays at his brother's place.. Right?

Tags/Warnings: Dilf!Jungkook, mentions of infidelity (past), single dad AU, friends? To lovers in a way I don't know either, smut, duh, romantic smut tho, cunnilingus or as I would call it his dinner after your dinner wink wink, protected sex cause he's got a kid already, very fluffy, very soft, much comfort

Jungkook likes that you try hard to make school anything but boring.

Apart from the regular classes, you organize a lot of activities for the kids in order to help them socialize and connect school to something good- which helped Yuri settle into the new environment quickly. She's a bit shy, quiet, soft spoken and a bit withdrawn due to her stuttering issue- so naturally, Jungkook had been more than just a little worried when she finally started elementary school.

But, to his surprise; his daughter had returned to him as he'd picked her up with a bright smile and a new little booklet- her sticker book as she'd eagerly explained to him.

When she had talked to him day in day out about you, her main teacher, he had imagined maybe an elderly lady, with a lot of experience and maybe kids of her own. You seemed nice, understanding that he was a busy man, often unable to meet her in person, and he was grateful for it. Yuri blossomed into a social kid, her birthday party bustling with kids her age she considered her friends now- and he internally almost cried when he noticed the way everyone around her would quiet down and let his little girl talk, never making fun if she took longer for a word to finally come out clear- and they later proudly explained that it's what you'd taught them to do.

He had to thank you.

So when Yuri told him about the sports event you'd organized for the class, he'd asked immediately to help- hell, he was a boxing coach, he surely knew a thing or two about sports!

What he didn't prepare for, was that you weren't at all an elderly lady in her mid 40's with kids of her own. No; when little Yuri excitedly pulled his hand for him to meet her teacher, he had his breath knocked out harder than ever before in any boxing match he'd had;

You were gorgeous, pretty sundress and shy smile, and you couldn't have been any older than himself.

"oh, Mister Jeon! Im glad I finally get to meet you." you say, bowing politely and he himself almost chokes on his own saliva as he forgets to return the gesture.

"ah yeah, thanks- I'm sorry I've not been able to attend any events up until now." he apologizes, though you simply nod with a smile, tucking your hair behind your ear as the wind picks up a little.

"no, it's fine, I understand completely." you say. "and how are you Yuri? Dahye and Nayoung are already asking for you." you tell the young girl who jumps a bit up and down while clinging to her father's arm. You have to admit that you didnt expect her father to look anything like he actually does; with tattoos on full display, black t-Shirt doing little to hide the toned body underneath. He's pierced, he's attractive, he screams everything you've daydreamed in your own school days-

He looks exactly like the kind of guys that dont want anything to do with a shy bookish thing like yourself.

"Go, I'll be right here." jungkook offers, and Yuri finally nods before she runs off to meet her friends. "I- thanks a lot." he says yet again, and you turn around and look a bit confused.

Cute.

"Her stutter has improved a lot. Im glad she's finally coming out of her shell, and I think it's mostly because of your efforts." he explains, and you wave him off.

"ah, I guess I just saw myself in her a little. I had similar problems, so I simply did what I could've needed as a child her age." you tell him, and he nods with a smile. He can probably tell you were an awkward kid. Now he probably thinks even less of you.

But he simply carries on conversation the entire day, helping you keep the kids in check while also offering his help for any upcoming events or projects you'd like to organize.

He's nice, you think. Too bad that's all there is to it.

Fast forward several months, and you have a feeling that something's up with Jungkook.

He's dancing around something whenever he talks to you, never really saying what he wants to say- until finally, today, he's spilling what he's been trying to say for days. "I.. Would you like to maybe join me for Dinner tonight?" he asks, as you're packing up your things in the classroom. At first, you want to shrug and say yes, maybe he wants to talk to you about something- but oddly enough, you don't think that's his intention.

Yuri had told you she's spending the weekend at her uncle's place. And the way the man across from you squirms a bit in his spot, tells you that he's shooting for a.. Date?

"are you asking me for a date, mister Jeon?" you ask, and he plays a bit with his lip ring, before he nods.

"I am. Is that weird?" he wonders, and your cheeks turn a bit red at that.

"I- no, well, yes-" you struggle, before throwing your bag over your shoulder, holding it close. "-I.. I am very sorry, but I'm not one for one-night-stands or anything of that nature-"

"no no no!" he instantly panics, before running a hand through his hair. "I actually.. Listen I kind of really want to get to know you, as a person, not just a hit and run kind of thing, promise!" he vows, and after a small moment, you nod.

"okay." you say, and his shoulders droop, before he visibly realizes you've accepted his offer.

"yes? Yes! Fuck yeah- I mean heck yeah, I mean-" he slowly walks backwards out of your classroom, bright grin on his face as he claps his hands once in victory. "okay, yeah, I'll- I'll see you at 5- no! I'll pick you up at 5? Send me your address I'll pick you up!" he rambles, before he speedwalks out of the school building, leaving you grinning like a schoolgirl by yourself.

Maybe he's not that kind of guy.

Honestly? You don't care if he's that kind of guy.

You've never had the pleasure of being screwed in someone's kitchen like in some K-Drama final episode- and right now, thats exactly what seems to be happening.

He's a really good cook, you've got to say. He put great effort in what he'd prepared, and it just felt right to help him wash the dishes afterwards. He'd told you about his ex girlfriend trying to bind him to herself by basically doing the old safety-pin to the condom trick; ending up pregnant, and giving birth to Yuri. And it had worked for a good while, until he'd found out about her infidelity and various other things she'd done to him- sabotaging his career and life being only two of them, his broken trust and heart not even to mention.

And after a long court case, he'd gained sole custody of the little girl, but not much changed after. If anything, he'd raised her on his own from the very start anyways, the only thing changing that her mother finally moved out of his apartment, out of his life, out of his heart.

Making space for someone sweet like you.

And fuck are you sweet- from the genuine compliments to the cute breathless moans that are escaping you as he kisses you silly- sitting on the counter while his hands roam the expanse of your naked thighs around his waist. He's worried he might be going too fast- after all, this could paint the wrong picture for you. "baby- love, we should slow down-" he tries, but you chase after his lips, shaking your head in adorable stubbornness. "no?" he chuckles, and you blush, before he angles his head just right, tongue finally being granted access for an even deeper kiss.

He could happily continue this for hours. Kissing her had never felt like this.

So it's not surprising that his dinner becomes extended as he eats you out for dessert, uncaring of how uncomfortable his knees feel on his hard kitchen tiles. No, how could he, when you just sound so mesmerizing saying his name? Finally dropping the whole formal shit, instead breathing his name with so much desperation on your tongue that he can't help but flick his own a little more eagerly, kitten licking you to your release; strong hands more than capable of keeping your legs open even when they start to tremble from oversensitivity.

He doesn't want it to end just yet.

So you both somehow end up in his bed; the one place he'd never dared to bring any women to ever again- unless someone like you would show up. He knows it's probably rushed to high heavens, but he can't seem to care. The bedroom is dark, only sound coming from the two of you and occasional thrusts from him that turn a bit more rough- and you feel so so cherished.

Truth is, your sex life until now had been nothing but.. Basic.

But all of this, felt exciting, it made you feel wanted, and by someone like him of all people. The way he'd willingly and without any complaint eaten you out in his kitchen of all places was something you believed only to exist in movies and porn- but he's right there, breathing heavy as he steadily pushes his hips into you, hands so gentle as they touch you carefully.

It's a little more intimate than what had happened before in the kitchen, a little more slow and steady and comforting. From the way he doesn't forget to make sure you come first, to the simple fact that he holds you close after discarding his condom. "jungkook-" you mumble, and he shakes his head, kissing the top of your head.

"not yet. I'll let you go in a second-" he hums out. "-just.. Not yet."

"I just really need to pee-" you say, and he sighs defeated, letting you race into the bathroom to do your business. He doesn't know what he's scared of- that you maybe realize what just happened was way too quick and out of the blue. Maybe you think he's an asshole only out for this? He's not. He wants you to even stay the night-

But he doesn't know how to ask.

But when you return, you're wearing a playful pout, and his shirt- baggy on your frame, but it suits you perfectly he realizes.

"I think you broke the zipper of my dress." you huff out as you sit on his bed, bouncing a bit from the way you'd jumped on the mattress- making him smile as he leans up on his elbow, head resting in his palm while his free hand softly runs up your thigh starting from the bare skin of your knee- before he stops at the hem of his shirt.

"you look better in this anyways." he shrugs, jokes, and you smile with that cute blush, making him smile as well.

Because it seems like he doesn't have to ask at all-

You got his message loud and clear.

[hotch-stufff]

Surprise, Surprise

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!reader

Warnings!: there are no warnings, im not telling you a single thing. It's a surprise. Just read and find out ;)

Also, as much as I love him, Jack does not exist in this story, wasn't really sure how to write him in.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry that I haven't written in a while, I have had no inspiration and my bf dumped me so... ya'know that was nice. Anyways, finally getting some inspo, hopefully I will be writing more. Hope you guys enjoy this one :) Also, the mood board is mine, but the images are all from pintrest.

Word count: 1.4 k words

This is an emotional roller coaster

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

You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't move, or speak.

Your knees gave out as you fell to the floor, sobs racking your body.

You felt arms wrap around you, but it didn't help. You were suffocating. He was your air, and he had just been ripped from your lungs. 

He was gone, dead.

Your husband.

The love of your life.

Aaron Hotchner was dead

* * *

You don't remember anything after the doctor uttered those words. You don't remember Rossi picking you up and holding you. You don't remember the sad glances, the tears shed by your teammates. You don't remember the car ride to your now empty shared apartment. You don't remember lying down and sobbing into the pillow for hours.

No, you only remember the pain. The unbearable pain of loss.

He was gone. Really gone.

You cried and cried for hours on end. Until you had no tears left to shed. 

Then you just lied there, staring at the wall, gripping his favorite shirt in your arms, remembering every little moment with him.

And it hurt like hell just thinking of everything you did with him. The day you met. Your first kiss, your first date. The day he proposed. Your wedding. Every little thing. 

And you wouldn't be able to do anything else. You wouldn't have kids with him. You guys had just talked about having a baby just the other day. He wanted one so bad. 

You shouldn't have waited.

Because now, now he was gone.

* * *

The next few days were a blur. You found yourself with home-cooked meals overflowing your fridge. A team member at your house every night. But it was all a blur.

All meaningless without Aaron.

The funeral was coming up. You didn't make any arrangements, you asked Rossi if he could handle it and he quickly agreed. 

He had taken care of finding the casket, picking a place, and finding a burial site. Everything. 

The only thing you had asked for was a closed casket.

You couldn't handle looking at him.

* * *

On the day of the funeral, the girls all came over to help you get ready. 

"Alright y/n, do you have a dress?" Penny asked as she walked out of kitchen.

"In the closet." You croaked. Your voice being hoarse from the crying and lack of speaking for the past two weeks.

"Okay I'll grab that, and shoes. Jj is going to make you breakfast and Em is going to do your hair okay?" You gave her a sad smile and a small okay.

Penny quickly walked back your hallway as Em began pulling your hair back in a low ponytail. You felt the tears begin slipping down your face once again.

Jj saw as she walked back in the room with a bagel and coffee.

"Oh sweetheart." And the dam broke. They comforted you the best they could. But they couldn't even imagine what you were going through, because he was gone.

* * *

The funeral was a blur. It seemed like everything was these days. 

It was a beautiful service. You don't remember much. Lots of hugs and 'sorry for your loss's.

It had gone quickly, and soon you found yourself in Rossi's living room. Everyone but the team had left, you sat alone. The rest were in the kitchen cleaning up.

You didn't move from your spot, sipping your wine.

Everyone walked in, and found spots around you.

It was silent. Not a single word was spoken.

"I'm taking a leave of absence." You spoke.

6 pairs of eyes shot to you, but they couldn't say they were surprised.

"It's just too much. I'm not ready to come back." Your voice was quiet. Rossi was the first to say anything.

"Take all the time you need." 

* * *

And you did. You spent about 3 months in that apartment, alone and sad and heartbroken. 

But you realized that Aaron would never want you to live like this. And you really needed to be able to pay the bills.

So after those 3 months, you gave Rossi a call. He had become until chief since you had left, and he instantly accepted you back to the team.

You were slowly getting better. 

Each passing case a distraction. 

Each one fixing you just a bit more. 

Each one giving your life a purpose, a meaning again.

And you felt better. You stopped crying yourself to sleep. You stopped sitting in silence for hours on end. You stopped crying every time you thought about him.

But you still visited him every week. You still thought about him everyday. You still wore your wedding rings, refusing to take them off.

But you were better. 

* * *

A few more months went by and you started going out with the team again. You spent more time with them. Almost every weekend. And you were somewhat okay.

And it wasn't until about 8 months after his death did your world come to another crashing halt.

You had been called in to the BAU, not entirely sure why, but you came in none the less. 

You figured it was a case, but Jj hadn't specified on the phone, which was strange.

You had walked up to the conference room, and were surprised to see the whole team sitting there ready to go. 

"Hey guys, do we have a case?" You asked, but Jj sent you a sad look causing you to grow worried.

"Y/n, you should sit down for this." You had no idea what was going on. What on earth was happening. "Peter Raymond recently resurfaced, and was taken into custody this morning about an hour ago. He resisted arrest and pulled a gun on an officer. He was shot and killed." Your heart hammered in your chest. He was gone. The bastard who killed your husband was gone. Rossi stood walking towards Jj.

A pit grew in your stomach, there was more, something you didn't know.

"8 months ago I made a decision that greatly affected this team. Aaron Hotchner received substantial injuries from the wounds he endured, but his surgery was a success and he was airlifted to an unknown location. His identity was changed in order to keep him safe. But he is alive." 

You couldn't believe your ears. He was alive. Alive? 

Your eyes shot to the door and there he stood. 

Aaron Hotchner. 

You couldn't breathe. 

You couldn't move or speak. 

He was alive, you should be ecstatic.

But you only felt anger.

Your eyes shot to Rossi.

"How dare you." You whispered out, surprising the team. You weren't an angry person, you never yelled at your teammates. But you, you were seething. "How could you do that. You knew he was alive and yet you let me suffer. You watched as I cried day and night. You watched as I let myself go, as I lost myself." You shook your head in anger.

Aaron stepped forward reaching out for you, but you shook your head.

"Dont touch me. Don't fucking touch me." You felt the tears fall down your face. Again. "You left me. You're dead. You're gone. Y-you left." You were shaking and crying and once again Aaron reached out for you, but this time you let him.

He brought you into a crushing hug, holding you like you had begged to be held for months. 

He was here, really here. You could smell and feel and see him. He was really here.

"Y-you bastard. You left me." You whispered desperately as you cried into his shirt. 

The team was quick to disperse. They too were mad at Rossi, and they wanted to reunite with Hotch. But they left you be, at least for now.

Aaron pulled back slightly, looking down at you.

"Sweetheart I'm so sorry. I wish I didn't have to. But he would have killed you and then he would have killed me." He had tears running down his face as well now. But you were so angry at him.

You pushed him away.

"I could have gone with you Aaron. You could have gone into witsec. You didn't need to fake your fucking death Aaron!" You yelled at him. you couldn't even believe you were eating this conversation.

"Y/n please, I'm so sorry." You were mad yeah, but you were so overwhelmingly relieved that it overpowered your anger. "I missed you sweetheart." He whispered out and you broke just a little bit more.

"You bastard. Y-you stupid man." You pulled him back to you and slammed your lips together. "You stupid, stupid man." You gasped out between kisses. 

"I know, I'm so sorry. I love you." He stated after you pulled away.

"I-I love you too." You were sobbing at this point.. "Don't ever do that to me again." He nodded, leaning in to kiss you again.

And you kissed your husband.

Because he wasn't gone. 

He was right here.

And god did it feel amazing to have him back

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

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! Currently I'm only taking requests from my prompt list, which is right here! School is starting up soon though, so i may not be writing very often, but i will definitely try! Anyways, if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

[meganwasbored]

The Dragon Prince Thoughts Season 1 Episodes 7-9

Episode 7

-“good try, doggies” she’s so cute

-RAYLAS HUMAN IMPRESSION I CANT

-“snow elf.”

-“I need something more personal than a shirt”

“Underwear?”

HHAHAHHA

-also if Soren or Claudia make any bad choices in the future I’ve decided that it is not their fault in the slightest thank you

-When Rayla said she was gonna ask nicely I didn’t think she was actually gonna ask nicely

-“I’m just a simple human girl who like the human things like bread and complaining all the time!”

“No, you’re an elf!”

“Fine I’m an elf.”

-bruh if that didn’t get it off what the heck will

-ELLIS AND AVA’S BACKSTORY OH MY GOSH

-“There she is! She’s an elf!” BRO WHYD YOU HAVE TO EXPOSE HER LIKE THAT WHATD SHE DO TO YOU

Episode 8

-ELLIS IS BACK

-even if the healer can heal her hand it wouldn’t be any use because the band is still on

-could not be more unrelated but I just remembered that Callum mentioned a jerk face dance in episode 1 or 2 and I can’t even describe how much I NEED to see that

-“How do you plan for indescribable terrors? I feel like you need to be able to describe them first”

-“Flash! Woof! Whoosh! Slish-slash!”

“…is he okay?” “I think he’s finally cracked under the pressure”

-“Callum you may be a dummy but you’re not a fool!”

-don’t worry Callum, I appreciate your weird way of explaining plans

-bruh why does Viren even care about the elf anymore

-if y’all don’t start appreciating Callum’s humor RIGHT NOW-

-Bait you had one job

-I can’t believe they almost got killed by an oversized earthworm

-WHAT WAS IN THE BAG

-why am I getting weird vibes from Ellis all of the sudden is she gonna betray them or something? Like I have a feeling him telling her about the primal stone was a mistake but I can’t put my finger on why

-“knowing you is definitely worth losing a hand for” AWWWWW

-“I’m just a guy who can draw and make wry comments from time to time” yeah that’s why I love you what about it

-how did they just blind a creature with no eyes

-“Get zapped! Hahaha get zapped by the zap hand!” I love him so much

-“I knew whoosh should have been part of 🫡The Plan🫡”

-oh yeah and Ellis I’m sorry I ever doubted you

-WHAT DID VIREN DO TO THE ELF AND WHY DOES HE LOOK LIKE A ZOMBIE NOW

-THE HECK DO YOU MEAN NO MIRACLE HEALER HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN THIS

Episode 9

-boy the heck do you mean you can talk to animals how did we not know this

-like talk talk to them or just communicate cause those are two very different things

-“fitting in is boring anyway”

-so is this a magical ability or is he just really good with animals and he thinks it’s more than that because he’s a kid, like I’m not saying he’s lying but I also don’t blame them for not believing him

-“you might say it’s, the ka-tallest” HAHAHA that was funny idc

-hey for every only child out there who doesn’t know how to write an accurate sibling relationship, just watch Soren and Claudia

-bruh there’s MUMMIES in this universe???

-WAS THE MUMMY THE HEALER IS THE HEALER DEAD

-her hand looks so bad oh my gosh

-THAT FACE SCARED ME YALL KNOW I DONT DO JUMP SCARES

-Callum is me when I lose a spider

-“I’m disgusted, and a little impressed” hahahaha

-I don’t understand this animal thing at all he’s being so ominous about it

-“then you have to do the thing” JERKFACE DANCE????

-JERKFACE DANCE

-“I should have figured it out, they were all illusions” um no actually I think you investigated a little too much

-ok but is she gonna give the collar back tho cause ik we love Ava but she’s gonna have it rough without it

-ik for a fact the egg’s not dead cause the show is literally named after it so stop teasing me with this

-Callum honey great idea but we gotta think these things through

-OH MY GOSH ITS SO CUTE

-DRAGONDRAGONDRAGONDRAGON

-so he DOES know exactly what they’re saying?? Is there a magical explanation for this or do we just have to except it, I’m good either way I just wanna know

-you have GOT to be kidding me, the indestructible knife can’t cut the band but a dragon nibbles on it a little bit and it snaps?

-Zym has already done something amazing and he was literally just hatched, most useful character on the show rn

-that short gust of wind that blew in Soren’s face right after he said “couldn’t you do this someplace warmer” was personal

-I was gonna ask why no one but the old elf lady was phased by the giant purple beam of light but then I remembered everything they just went through to get up there

-is Viren gonna just look like that from now on I still don’t even know what he did to the elf, put him in a coin?? Does putting someone in a coin make you look like that?? Remind me to never put anyone in a coin

[its-me-im-coraline]

Baby // Headcannons

words //

warnings // non really, this is teeth rotting fluff, any deisre for children after this is not my fault, blame Måneskin 😂

pairing // Måneskin members x GN!Reader

author's note // lol i decided to use these photos cause it looks more aesthetically pleasing. anyways i hope you enjoy the headcannons also don't forget the "sleepover" on sunday yayyyyy...

request // yes here

summary // Måneskin as parents

Damiano David

damiano as a father would be the absolute sweetest

the man looks intimidating in photos but the moment he opens his mouth is the sweetest

thus the conclusion that he’d be the softest father in existence

will be extremely hands on raising your kid the whole time

he refuses to not do his absolute best to be there as much as possible for your guys’ child

will never complain about having to change diapers

for some reason I imagine damiano to be the type of father that would take baths with his child

“look, look at daddy’s hair”

while he has some kind of ‘intricate’ hairstyle with tons of foam all around it

will literally cry for pretty much every milestone of the child

“di-did they just laugh? Y/N, our child just laughed, stop laughing at me!”

meanwhile he is borderline sobbing

i can also imagine him if not crying just laughing in excitement at something they do

like say your guys’ child has taken up some kind of sport or martial art, they will show the most recent thing they learned to damiano and he will start giggling in pleasant surprise

“Dio mio, amore, that was fucking awsome!”

will have a hard time not cursing in front of the child sometimes

but he’s working on it

will take tons of walks around the city, in parks and stuff, together

can just imagine him in nature, holding hands with this tiny little human being

ahuaifjn my heart dudes

will be supportive of them no matter what

be it the child’s sexuality, gender identity, career and hobbies

as long as they can be safe he doesn’t mind at all

will try not to cry when his kid will move away

if they move somewhere close by rest assured he will never not be at their house

“you know dad, you have a house of your own, don’t you like it better?”

“nah, the sun hits this place really nicely, i enjoy it”

will def take you and the kid along when traveling, when possible of course

I can also just imagine him having his kid on stage at a show and just kind of playing around and singing and awwwwwwwwwwwww

Why do I want this? i don't even want kids!!!!!!

Thomas Raggi

Thomas is a similar case to Damiano but of course with his differences

instead of taking walks around he just takes naps with them

you can not even count the times you have come home, calling for thomas and your kid and neither responds

so you get worried a bit but then you see them napping on the couch

will nap with your kid in the weirdest places

can and will fall asleep together on a chair in the balcony/yard

I feel like he would spoil them a bit?

especially if he’s been away for long, he will return home baring gifts

from a cute shirt, to something pretty expensive that reminded him of them

will always bring snacks from different countries, like chocolates for belgium or nougat from greece (yes it is kind of a traditional candy in some greek islands especially)

might not take baths with them like damiano but i can see thomas just playing around with the hose outside in the yard

“Dad, no it’s cold! stoooop it!”

“Oh come on, it's burning out here! don’t you love the little cooling effect?”

will know when not to throw water at your kid of course, it is always done in good fun when they’ve gone outside with the solemn reason of playing with the water

dance parties at the most random moments

like a song they both like plays at a store

they will start dancing in the middle of the store

sometimes you act like you dont know them

others you join it

how sweet

ok but like picknics at the park

you just lay in a blanket, thomas and your child are non stop playing around until they get tired

and when thomas sits down the kid is still all over him and they are being so cuddly with each other

will always remind them of their jacket

Victoria De Angelis

victoria would feel a little awkward at first

idk but although i'm sure she is the sweetest with children i feel that she will not be sure how to act at first

maybe she would view your baby as very very fragile at first and be very afraid of her movements as to not do anything to hurt them

i can not stop thinking of victoria when her child is sick or feels down

she will immediately go mama bear at them

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Does your head hurt?”

“Do you feel cold?”

why do i feel she would get into superstitions sometimes

“i should call your mum, Y/N (if you're from a culture that believes in that). someone gave them the evil eye. of course they did, you're amazing!”

feels very proud of the outfits she gives your kids i swear

“this is perfect! Y/N look how cute they look!! You have the matching shirt, right?”

will go above and beyond for them

doesn’t care what time it is, if her baby needs her she’s there

tickle fights are a must in your household

she will always laugh hysterically even if your kid doesn’t actually tickle her

the cutest thing is them two just sleeping together in the car when going somewhere

poor chilli now has to endure to children bothering her lol

victoria would be extremely protective of your child, not only if they got hurt but even with the idea that they could

will always be proud mama™

"they are amazing, how can i not be proud"

Ethan Torchio

Remember how I said Victoria would feel kind of scared of doing something wrong and hurting your kid?

ethan is even more worried

idk, i see this man as an absolute gentle giant

i can see him just staring at the baby the first time he sees them with so much adoration, as if in a trance

now…

out of all of them ethan is the “strictest”

i feel like you would be the one to try to sneak desert before dinner and ethan would just scold both you and your child

“Y/N, I told them no before! Come on!”

just like them all he is willing to go to the end of the world for that kid

will not hesitate to bring them the moon if he could, no questions asked

i feel like he would be the one your child confides in the most

like i can imagine your teenager sneaking out, something going wrong and calling ethan first!

he will die from the worry when he gets the call but as i said will go to the ends of the world for them

ethan will never even once yell at them

scold them a few times? sure

but yell? not even once!

now imagine this man with a little child wearing his shirt at the beach, walking around and showing them the beach

“You see those lights over there? They are windmills. They collect energy from the wind. how cool is that”

very close to my grandmother pointing out the windmills she’s seeing every summer for the past 20 years lol

he is so wholesome, will turn everything into a learning opportunity

i feel like he would be the father that is so embarrassing to the child because of how wholesome he is some times

but both them and their friends would confide in him

will literally father their friends if they need it omg

he is the type to see you holding them for the first time, or just holding them and doing something and just getting horny

“come on amore, let’s have one more!”

“ethan no”

he’s like telepathically communicate with them

it gets creepy but he does that to you two

he just knows when you need anything

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast

[slashingdisneypasta]

Total Drama Villains x Reader || Drabble Set

Plot: You forget to take a towel to the shower and only realise after the shower, so you open the window to stick your head out and ask whoever's out there (Hoping someone is out there) to grab you one but to your chagrin- there's just a villain.

Includes: Chris, Heather, Mal and Scott.

Warnings: Mmmm, I dont think so. Swearing? A kiss?

~~~

All:

You slowly look around the room, very very aware of the fact that you're naked and cold in a room that does not have a great lock on it. "Ohhhhhh no." The words come out low and steady... but are just brimming with panic.

No. Towel.

No towel!!

Finally you gasp, covering the bottom half of your face with your hands and looking at the benches and the sinks in dread. You accidentally came in here without a towel!!

The sudden sound of footsteps out the back of the cabin rips a gasp from your throat and you lunge at the window, unlatching the lock and opening it to see who it is. Before you even stick your head out, you're calling for whoever it to stop. Please. Hold on! I need your help!

Chris McLean:

*You are an adult camper.

When you actually see who's standing out there, you groan. Chris McLean stands outside on the grass, hands in his pockets and an intrigued look in his eyes. He know's he's about to be amused, or he's going to amuse himself depending on what kind of trouble you're in- or what kind of help you apparently need.

"What's up?~"

"Nevermind."

"Oh no no no! Come on, you can confide in Uncle Chris, cant you?"

A whine tumbles out of you. Uncle Chris?? Grooooooooss. He see's and acknowledges your disgusted reaction to him calling himself that, but just giggles. He doesn't leave, to your utter annoyance.

What other choice do you have?? Rolling your eyes, you look down at your feet instead of meeting his beady eyes and wiggle your toes. And mutter suuuuper quietly, half hoping he doesn't hear you. "I forgot to bring a towel... and I really need one... " And, this part you say especially quietly. For seriously asking Chris fucking McLean for a hand would be akin to letting your dignity pack its bags and fly the coop. "... and would you please get one for me... "

"... Sorry, I didn't catch that. What didja say?"

Oh god. A little louder, you say shortly. "... I forgot a towel... "

Chris smirks at that, rolling back on the feels of his feet. "And? What would you like from me, Y/N?"

Finally too frustrated to keep playing this stupid game with the show's host, you snap your eyes up to his and cross your arms. "Fine! Damnit. Get me a towel, please."

Immediately, a cat like grin slowly spreads across Chris' face. Its the most evil thing you have ever seen.

"Now why would I do that when I could get Chef here to send in a buncha rabid bats with you and flush you out?" Christ teases - no, threatens. But then again, does he know the difference in the first place? - , that famous, alabaster white, terror instilling grin on his face as usual. "Now that's, good TV!"

You groan, head falling back on your neck, in frustration. "Chrr-ris!!"

"Ha ha! Well? What do you expect?" You cant argue with that, but you cans till groan again. "Okay, fine. I'll get you a towel! But what will you do for me, heh? Nothing comes for free."

"Oh, don't I know it. I've been on this show for 3 seasons now." For some reason.

"Heh heh."

"Fine, I'll... " Ugh, something for Chris... You blow air out of your cheeks slowly, in thought. What would Chris like? Well, he'd sure get kick out of you getting one of your friends hurt but that's sure as hell not happening. Finally, after a few moments, you get an idea. And scowl. "I'll be sure to drum up some drama for you. Good TV, right?"

"For sure! Promise?~"

Sighing, you lean tiredly on the window sill. "Oh, I cross my heart and hope to die." You promise him like he's a child, which he basically is. Chris McLean has got the maturity level and the intelligence package of a 7 year old on crack.

"Wicked! Heh heh, this'll be good. Okay, hang tight. I'll be back."

You smirk at his retreating back.

~

When he finally gets back and hands you a towel - a much nicer towel then what you and the other campers have been using. Which is nice? But also, you cant help but worry about what kind of strings might be attached to it, - through a crack in the door, you carefully wrap it around your body and tightly tuck it in.

"I'll want that towel back" He snaps, cranky. Why?? He could've just gone and gotten you your towel! "I imported that from Fiji!"

Of course he did.

Now you take a deeeeeeep breath, gathering all your courage, and killing the butterflies reeking havoc in your stomach. Then open the door again and grab hold of the front of Chris' signature teal shirt and wrench him close before he can walk too far off.

And you smash your lips together and slam your eyes tightly closed.

When you pull back from the kiss - a horrible, unpleasant, bad kiss, - you immediately wipe your mouth with your arm and let him go. But when you reveal your mouth again, you're for damn sure smirking at the stunned man. "Is that dramatic enough for you, Chris? A camper and the host? Scandalous- I bet we'll be front page news."

Then quickly you lock yourself inside the bathroom again, not really caring for his reaction- which only comes, finally, minutes later when you're half way dressed.

"DAMN IT Y/N!!"

Heather:

"Hm." Heather crosses her arms, an evil smirk on her lips- opportunity has knocked on her door. Or, the inside of the shower cabin. "You need something from me. Well! What will you do for me return? Hm?"

As expected. "I will vote for whoever you want me to at 2 different instances of your choice going forward. Except for myself, I wont vote myself out."

She thinks for a moment, but definitely looks pleased. "Three, different instances of my choice."

Fucks sake- "Fine! Just- please! I'm getting cold and one of the boys could come in here at any time and see me butt ass naked!!"

Uncrossing her arms and setting her hands on her hips instead, Heather laughs. "Oh- one of these boys? Shower? Haha. Have you smelled them??"

You blush darkly at her joking with you; At your worry but not your expense, before shaking your head of silly feelings and usher the pretty girl Heather, forward. "Go! Go! Get my towel already."

"Be right back." She rolls her eyes, heading off.

~

When she gets back, she reaches up to the window with the towel and you gratefully take it, beginning to dry off any drips from your body and get dressed as quickly as possible. "Thank you Heather!!"

"Mhm, yeah. Sure."

A few minutes later when you leave the door, Heather's waiting for you on the porch and you basically have a small stroke- jesus christ, why is she there!? STILL!?

"Oh, relax. I'm just cashing in some of your part of the bargain." She sneers, walking closer to you and pressing a sharp fingernail into your chest. "Dont forget, you owe me now."

"I remember Heather, we did this like 10 minutes ago."

"Good." She smiles, a tint of evil to it still. Pleasantly surprised that you're being so obedient. She leans back. "Okay, so Gwen's got to go. You got that? She's out. Vote for her and you're third done with your debt to me."

"Yes ma'am." You smirk, brushing by her and stalking off back to your cabin to put away your things.

Heather watches, hands on her hips and her own smirk on her lips. You might just be useful out of this bunch of losers. Not quite a diamond in the rough, but... better, at least. For sure. "Hm."

Mal:

"Oh- Mike!" You exclaim excitedly as soon as you see the lanky, dark haired boy. What luck!!

But then he slowly turns around; A dark, sinister grin on his face and hair over one eye. And your heart immediately drops.

This is not Mike. Neither is it Chester, Svetlana, Vito or Manitoba- any of which would have been just fine alternatives for this moment.

This has to be fucking Mal. You've met him before, and absolutely nevermind on the luck front.

"Nope." Yep- the grizzly, deep voice that responds to you can belong to no one other then Mike's chaotic evil alter. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You continue to chant curses in your head as he turns around fully and comes forward, looking up with evil glinting in his eyes at you like a twisted Flynn Rider to your Rapunzel.

The kind that makes you rather stay inside your tower- its safer here then out there with him. You don't go out to meet the rabid pit bull!!

"Ummm, nevermind! Go about your business, I'm fine here. See ya!"

"Oh no. What'd you want from little Mikey?" He asks, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side, cruelly inquisitive. You chew on your bottom lip. Damn it; You've peaked his interest. Fuck.

"Um... " The sound comes out quiet and insure as you look down at the grass before his feet instead of his face. You're so nervous. "Well, I... I forgot my towel before I took my shower, and uh... I was just gonna ask him if he could go get me one."

For a moment, he's silent. Your gaze flickers up to his face to see an utterly wolfish look on his face, eyes gleaming with mischief before averting your eyes again to the grass.

Then a loud puff of hard, unpleasant laughter escapes him. He doubles over, holding his stomach as he guffaws at your embarrassing situation. You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

"Oh shut up," You snap, bravely- making him cut off his laughter immediately and look at you. You dare to fucking talk to him like that? "Come on, go get me a towel, please!! I'll owe you one."

After a moment, he stands up straight again and crosses his arms. Yes, he could do something horrible to you right now to teach you not to talk back to him; but it looks like you're going to struggle without his help. All he has to do is watch! "Hmm, nope!"

"Come on!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Ugh." You groan, leaving the window and Mal and plopping down on a bench. Fucking bastard.

This is so awkward. Especially since you know he's still out there!! And he could send someone in at any time.

... Minutes later, and you're still dripping wet but now freezing fricken cold, a towel is flung in through the still open window and lands on the wet floor near your feet. Your eyebrows fly up your forehead, as you look from it in surprise and to the window.

Mal's voice calls through it. "There! Its no fun if you just sit and bear your punishment." Huff. You can just imagine the cute boy - the look works for Mike, but is just very odd on Mal, - crossing his arms and setting his jaw, or even pouting. His voice just sound sooo frustrated. "I'll get you another time, anyway. Everyone will go down, eventually."

"Oh... mhm, oh sure." I mean, I can at least listen to his evil babble since he got me a towel, you think as you start drying yourself down and getting dressed.

A moment after you've got your shirt on, the door is kicked open and Mal stands on the threshold, making you jump. "Jesus christ!- "

"Kiss thank you?"

"Get outta here!" Absolutely not!

Scott:

Peering out from the window, you nearly miss the boy leant up against the cabin beneath you, in fact you would have- if it weren't for his bright orange hair. You gasp, unintentionally getting his attention and smiling brightly when he looks up to find you. "Scott!"

A confused, yet somehow still evil expression paints his face. "Y/N?? What are you doing?"

"Well farm-boy, how do you feel about giving a lady a hand??"

Scott snorts, getting off the wall and stepping back to see you properly. "Lady? I don't see any lady here."

Oh- Bastard. You look back into the bathroom before disappearing from the window for a moment before returning, and promptly clobbering him with an empty shampoo bottle. "You see her now!?"

"Ugh... yeah." He grumbles more malleably now, much more open to suggestion as he rubs his forehead. "Sure, now I see her... ow."

Now you feel a little bad. He looks so pitiful when he's in pain... and yes he's a rat but... its still not okay to hurt someone. You aren't Chris. And also you're getting colder and colder as the water drips unimpeded down your skin and maybe its making you soft. "Ohh... okay, I'm sorry."

He glances up at you, surprised at your apology. "Ahh, no problem, I guess... " Did someone just apologise for whacking him on this show? He crosses his arms, raising a curious look to your disembodied head. "Uhh, what'd you need a hand, with?"

"I... kinda... forgot a towel... could you please go get one for me??"

For a moment you watch his eyes narrow and a wicked grin flicker at the corners of his mouth and get anxious that he's going to ask for something in return- before he rolls his eyes and just shrugs, turning and heading off to the cabin. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Be right back- try not to gather too much attention, haha."

As he walks off, you duck under the window again, sighing in so much relief. "Thanks, Scott!"

~

When he returns, you're waiting at the door and crack it open just enough to get the towel from him immediately- which you quickly wrap around yourself comfortably and sigh. "Thank you so much!"

"Hm. No problem." He huffs, wondering why the hell he did this for you anyway and crossing his arms again.

From inside, you carefully ask: "Are you gonna get weird if I hug you now?"

Immediately Scott's ears go bright red and he quickly loses every little bit of cool-guy vibe from a moment ago. "I-In your towel?? N-No!! I mean- yes!" He rubs the back of his neck, looking away from the door like its you, or he'll accidentally spontaneously develop x-ray vision and damnit, he's a gentleman. "I mean... " Or at least he tries to be.

Grinning, because Scott's unexpectedly cute now that you've flustered him, you quickly open the door, hug him quick, then close the door again and shout 'BYE'.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe. 

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

-

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

-

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.  

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.  

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.  

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.  

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.  

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

-

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How’re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.  

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

-

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think “Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

-

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

-

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.  

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.  

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.  

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.