#and I can say someone jokingly attempted to murder me

[todorokies]

megumi reminds me so much of autumn . . . the leaves turning frail and crunchy, the outdoor air carrying a cold breeze that shakes wind chimes, the days fall short whereas the nights stills longer, warm maroon coloured sweaters, vanilla and apple scents follows in bakeries and candle shops . . .

this time of year cast a lovely veil over megumi’s life which temporarily reliefs him of his duties as a sorcerer. he chooses his spare time wisely and doesn’t take it for granted, since you occupy most of his thoughts its only warranted he spends his lazy saturdays with you by his side.

the first saturday of october, you both visit a secondhand book store after grabbing tea at a cozy cafe. megumi buys a agatha christie novel, the murder at the vicarage, you on the other hand buy a r.l stine goosebumps book. he sighs with a soft smile of his face, “typical…” he mutters to himself.

the second saturday of october, you, yuji, and nobara somehow grouped megumi into playing with an ouija board.

after countless attempts of asking questions to the actual thin air, the planchette moves to the ‘yes’ side of the board after you and nobara jokingly asked: ‘does someone haunt the dorm room in the male east wing?’

the room was soon filled with screams of terror . . . needless to say you spent the night in your boyfriend’s dorm cuddled up in his arms.

the third saturday of october consists of going into tokyo for a street festival. traditional snacks, candy apples, cinnamon rolls and the smell of caramel wafts throughout the street. going hand in hand manoeuvring through the large crowd while looking at the cool vendors and displays and occasionally saying, “look 'gumi let's check this one out!”

with the fourth and final saturday of october, you currently reside in the commoner kitchen sitting on top of the counter watching megumi use halloween-themed cookie cutters on pre-made dough. the plan for tonight was to stay in and watch hocus pocus, after some time you break the comfortable silence.

"so... since when do you like halloween?" a small smirk plays on his lips, "who said i didn't?"

“you just don’t seem like the type, you know?” you take a neatly rolled up piece of cookie dough off the baking sheet to prop it in your mouth, “if i didn’t know you well enough, i’d probably think your favourite holiday was something boring like new year’s.”

he snickers at your claim but covers it up with a fake dry cough not wanting to give you that full satisfaction.

he ends up choosing to ignore your comment, “there’s a lot of things to do around the fall time that entertains me. that’s all.” you teasingly wiggle your eyebrows, clearly fascinated by this new discovery.

“did you ever dress up for halloween?”

“gojo used to dress me and tsumiki up all the time when we were little. one year we went as oompa loompas and he dressed as willy wonka.” his eyebrow slightly twitches in annoyance by the faint memory.

you hold in your laughter mainly to protect megumi’s ego and make a mental note to ask gojo for proof with pictures later.

“i’m glad you wanna spend this month with me it seems like it means a lot to you.” you blurt out suddenly while fondly smiling at him as you softly trace over his chuckles with your finger.

his breath gets stuck in his throat and he can practically feel the blush climbing from his neck up to his face. you always seem to do this to him; make him awestruck and flustered like an idiot with a freshly new crush. but in hindsight, he doesn’t think the puppy love phase will ever end, at least not for him, you still make his stomach flip and tumble after many months together.

contrary to popular belief, megumi believes that the month of love doesn’t take place in february, but in the month of october. where the orange, yellow, and red is a far more appealing set of colours than pink and white.

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3 a/n: in honor of it being september

[mamarosehearts]

A Small Rant From Twitter About What Good Riddle Has Done

Someone on Twitter asked their followers to reply with the goods TWST characters have done, so I, as a loving mother, responded with a long-winded reply about Riddle.

Notes: possible super minor spoilers for the Lantern of Wishes event (JP server), minor cussing, me calling Riddle "my baby" several times, me jokingly hating on the other dorm leaders

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

With no other dorm have I seen the students organize like the damn military over their dorm leader. Maybe they do it because of the feeling of "yeah that's my dorm", but for Heartslabyul it's because "yeah that's my dorm LEADER". Even Ace was ready to dive in with Riddle during Riddle's Book 7 dream. Do you know how hard you gotta work to make amends with someone you tried to murder in front of a whole dorm? Yeah, this is a Disney game, but characters are shown to be unforgiving.

Riddle is actively unlearning years of toxic parenting, is working hard to change for the better, is willing to help others and sometimes even go out of his way to. He cares about his card soldiers, and I'll argue that even pre-overblot he thought he was doing the right thing for them by forcing them to follow even the most ridiculous of rules.

I don't know much about the other overblotters, so I will probably be very biased when I say this, but I think my baby has done the most conscious work to improve.

His whole dorm saw him attempt murder, but because of the work he put in and the effort he's made to change himself, his dorm sees him as their queen. Best dorm leader to have, in my opinion, he genuinely cares about you and goes out of his way to help. He may look at you like you're stupid for some things (and you probably deserve it), but my baby is a real leader.

A lot of the time, people who grew up in similar situations to Riddle don't end up being as kind as he is. Not because they don't want to be, but because that kindness and heart got killed off a long time ago. I feel that I have less trauma of the same genre (knock on wood) than Riddle, and I'm still not as good as he is.

Someone with that trauma sometimes might look at others and think, "If they want to succeed academically/work-wise/whatever, then they should suffer like I did" for several reasons:

The suffering seemed to work and helped me succeed.

If they can succeed without the suffering, then what did I suffer for?

Riddle doesn't do that, at least not anymore, and he doesn't seem to want others to suffer the same way. He will literally adapt studying methods to fit the person who needs it and will work with them. He figured out his way around Magicam, asking for help, just to help Cater study.

Plus, he doesn't resent his mom, which is the big one. Again, less trauma than Riddle and I know why my mom did the things she did, but there are times I still feel resentment when I hear about other people's childhoods and teen years. Riddle just wants to understand, and sometimes it seems like he's throwing out ideas to himself. "Is that why my mom was like that?" "Did my mom feel that way?" I think we see this during the Lantern of Wishes event, when Riddle starts to see himself in Rapunzel and his mother in Mother Gothel. In reality, no explanation would excuse her behavior, and I think Riddle realizes this, but still shows no hatred towards her.

He even worries about her! I don't know about you, but if a woman possibly stunted my growth by starving me and restricted my activities to studying only, I probably wouldn't give a damn about her. And yet he does. He worries that she'll be worried about him or about how she's doing, like he did in the Lost in the Book with Stitch event.

In short, my baby should not be lumped in with the other dorm leaders (common criminals, in my opinion) as he has worked hard to improve himself and become a better person.

[yuripoll]

KNOCKOUTS: I Love Amy (2022 - 23)

I Love Amy is a Korean webcomic by Unun (aka Unni) about the local crazygirl roping the local lonergirl into helping her with her crush.

"Is this how it feels to have a friend?" Bibi is obsessed with Peter, the prince of the school. When she spots Amy next to him, she starts to feel jealous. She invites Amy to her house to warn her, but instead takes a liking to the girl. They agree to be friends on the condition that Amy has to help Bibi confess. - MangaUpdates

No official ENG (yet? hopeful expression?) EDIT: thank youu Tappytoon for hearing my plea; KR available at Peanutoon.

CWs under the cut. General severity rating: moderate.

violence <- while the suggestion of violence is there, there's no notable instances of violence i can think of.

yandere-typical romantic pursuit <- bibi's yandereisms never really go too far, beyond possessiveness, following her crush around and implications that she's willing to hurt (even torture...?) people who get in her way. it's mostly jokes. most stalkerish thing she does is install a tracker on amy's phone without asking and breaking into her house. most yandereish thing that happens is brainstorming murder methods after seeing her crush with someone else.

kidnapping <- not really taken seriously. jokingly mentioned that bibi has been kidnapping since she was but a babe, and amy always seems to be getting tied up.

pet death <- rabbit accidentally killed in childhood. cartoony and not graphic at all, but you see its preserved body in a jar fairly frequently. the childhood pet dog also died, and its mentioned that it was dismembered post-mortem (only ever shown via teddy metaphor).

ableism <- people throw around words like 'crazy' and sometimes 'psycho' regarding bibi pretty regularly.

vomiting <- not shown in detail or dwelled on. ch23 & 24 afaik

suicidality <- amy fairly often says shit like "kill me now" when she's in a not-ideal situation throughout the series, but more seriously tends to show severe disregard for her own well-being, and as the series goes on, her self-hatred gets more and more intense.

child abuse <- mother attempts to murder her child via leaving her in a car on a hot day. ableism & trauma-motivated neglect by an uncle who is explicitly informed about bibi's support needs and continues to avoid her. side character and his sister were abused by their father - details of that are vague.

[sunny6677]

Higurashi x Spooky Month AU

Timeline 1/8

TW WEAPONS, INSANITY, ATTEMPTED MURDER??, MURDER, DEATH, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, HORROR, PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR

Okay. So I will begin with something that will be important later in the story.

Basically, there is this thing that I will only be dubbing The Illness until its actual name is revealed. The Illness is basically a disease that is caused by a lot of things—doubt, fear, paranoia. Anyone can easily catch it if they give in to either of those things. Victims of the disease often hallucinate, and become delusional. And it gets worse and worse with each stage until the end stage, where they usually err.. kinda claw at their own throat until they die?

This is important—trust me. /lh

So the beginning of the story

Kevin wakes up in an ordinary day like any other. He is staying over at Ethan and Strebers house, with none of Strebers other friends being there since they have something they're busy with. He has to get ready for work though, so he does, and heads into the kitchen. Streber, Ethan and Kevin converse when he gets to the kitchen. But before he leaves, Streber gives him a piece of toast. Kevin is grateful for this.

Kevin then later goes to work, and toward the end of his shift, he starts cleaning. But he's then pranked by the hatzgang, because they end up pouring water all over him. He tries to chase them out, but they leave before he can scold them. He tries to head back in, but he slips on the water that poured from the bucket and falls face first onto the ground. He only mutters out of defeat that he hates his job.

Later, Kevin goes back to Ethan and Strebers house. The two manage to soothe him, and they get to their backyard night picnic which they were planning to have with him that night anyway. They of course make sure that he wants to do it, and when he makes it clear that he does, they do it.

They have the picnic in the backyard, but as they converse, Streber mentions a festival/upcoming celebration by the name of Fiesta de las estrellas.

The celebration is pretty simple. It is themed around the stars, and toward the end of the celebration, everyone who attends goes to a certain area and makes a wish and then blows on a dandelion flower. Metaphorically, this is a way of letting their wish be sent to any gods that may be listening to their wishes. And then afterwards, everyone who is attending then proceeds to stargaze in that said area.

Streber seems pretty eager and excited about it, which makes Kevin decide "Hey why not", so he decides that when it comes around, he'll go to the celebration with both him and Ethan. Streber becomes more excited, which causes Ethan to start teasing him a little.

Then, after the picnic, Kevin is ready to go back to his house. But then Kevin catches Streber muttering something to himself in a frustrated manner. Streber explains that he forgot to go look for something he lost near a construction site the other day, and that he can't possibly just go out now to go look for it, even though he was planning on finding it today.

Out of pity, Kevin decides that he can at least try to help him find it before he heads back home. Streber is a little hesitant about this, but he excitedly accepts his help, very grateful.

After telling Ethan about it, Streber drives Kevin over to said construction site. Once they get there, Streber immediately heads in. Kevin decides that he'll let Streber take a look around to see if he can find what he lost. So he sits in a nearby area as he watches Streber search around. But then, he is startled by the arrival of someone. It's Richard, Roy's dad.

Richard and Kevin have a bit of a tense argument/conversation with one another since Kevin doesn't like Richard due to his snobbish attitude. In a small attempt to lighten up the mood at least a little though, he jokingly says that Strebers probably searching for a corpse.

Richard looks at him in a rather tense manner. Kevin tries to say that he was joking, but then Richard suddenly says, "...**you shouldn't joke about it. They still haven't found one of the arms, you know?**". This catches Kevin off guard, obviously.

Before Kevin can even reply though, Streber comes back. Streber seems to be done searching around, saying he can't really find it in the dark and that they might need to come back some other time. Richard decides to leave there, how convenient!

Streber and Kevin decide to drive back so Kevin can get back to his house, but Kevin tries to hesitantly ask if there were any murder cases around the area that he didn't know about since he didn't hear about there being one in a construction site like the one they were in.

Then, Streber suddenly says in a very cold tone as if he is supressing some sort of anger, "I don't know."

Streber then explains that he really doesn't know despite Kevin being a bit anxious due to the sudden shift in tone. But Streber is now speaking in a normal tone, so Kevin just decides not to question it the best he can.

It then skips to when Kevin is back at his house. Ethan and Streber happen to be visiting, and they are all playing a rather fun game of cards together. This goes one for a little bit. But then Streber leaves to go and get something, leaving Ethan and Kevin alone.

Kevin then tries asking Ethan if he knows anything about any murders at a construction site after debating over it internally. To which Ethan replies in a cold tone similar to Strebers earlier, "Of course not." Ethan then adds in a normal tone, "..well, not that I know of. How come you're asking?"

Kevin decides to brush it off, and just changes his mind about asking Ethan after Streber comes back.

The next day, Kevin decides he wants to be a good friend, so he heads back over to the construction site after asking Streber what exactly he lost over text. Streber apparently lost something simple—a vampire doll. Nothing much. So Kevin figures it'll be somewhat easy to tell if he finds it. But he already sees Streber down in the site, and he appears to have already gone looking himself.

Kevin calls out to Streber, and Streber finally notices them. The two have a friendly conversation, and Kevin explains that he had gone to try and search for it, but that they could probably look for it together now. So the two do, at least after Streber thanks him for what he was trying to do.

After searching for a bit, Streber calls out to Kevin, and shows Kevin that he found the doll. But it was stuck beneath a bunch of other heavy things. Kevin weakly tries to get it out, but everything is so heavy to the point where he can't get it out. This goes on for a few minutes, but Kevin just can't do it.

Not wanting to inconvenience Kevin any further, Streber tells Kevin to just rest for a bit there while he went back to his already not far away house to go and get something that'll make it easier to get the doll out. Streber leaves, and Kevin just sits there.

After sitting there, Kevin then notices what looks to be a newspaper. So curiously, he takes it and begins reading off of it. He then discovers to his horror that the newspaper is talking about the apparent murder ag the construction site he's been wanting to hear about. Apparently, some random person was killed and dismembered by four people right at that very site, and they still weren't able to find one of the arms of the said person who died.

Kevin continues to read, but he hears something from behind him. He then sees Streber, who has seemingly come back, carrying a shovel. Kevin screams because of the way Streber has it all raised up seemingly for no apparent reason. Streber is of course shocked, and tries to calm the startled Kevin down. He explains that he was just trying to hand it to him, and this calms down Kevin a little. By now, Kevin has thrown the newspaper off to the side as not to alarm Streber.

So Streber begins searching with the shovel, and after a bit, he manages to get the vampire doll out. Now happy, the two decide that they can finally head back to their homes.

A few scenes later(and after another encounter with Richard), it's time for the night of the festival. Kevin, Ethan and Streber of course begin to head to the area the festival is at. And of course, they have fun. They eat food, they play games, etc. They also run into Richard, but thats not important. A bit of a traditional dance is performed by Ross on the stage(for every year, they get a different person to do it, and for some reason, Ross is doing it this time.), and Ross does a strangely good job.

Then—it's time for the stargazing. The blowing of the dandelions happens, but Streber also explains that there is an ancient God called Eyes that happens to be the originating theme of the festival. Kevin doesn't question this, since he just thinks it's like a cultural thing anyway.

As the stargazing starts though, Kevin has an encounter with Carmen and Richard.

The three have a tense conversation. And halfway through, Carmen and Richard decide to start messing with Kevin a little. They start telling him some of the legends of the celebration. Apparently, on every day of the festival, a person dies and another person goes missing. They explain the reason why the legend exists is because there have been several mysterious deaths on this day for literal years. Kevin is now a little anxious, but Richard and Carmen then leave.

Kevin then heads home after the festival is over, but he is very anxious as anyone would be after being told that.

The usual slice of life type shit then proceeds the next day. Kevin, Ethan and Streber all play a visual novel game together after Kevin is done working. This goes on for like a few minutes, but Kevin then has to go outside for whatever reason. And when he does, he sees John. John for some reason asks if Kevin can talk with him for like a few minutes, and Kevin complies despite his anxiety around the police.

When the two talk, John begins to ask Kevin questions about Richard and Carmen. Kevin is curious, but is also anxious because he doesn't know why he's asking him of all people about them two. Then, John explains why he's asking him in the first place.

Apparently, Richard was found dead with his throat torn open. And Carmen proceeded to go missing as well.

This understandably shocks Kevin—as anyone would be in this situation. But after a bit more conversation, John tells Kevin to keep what he told him strictly confidential. So Kevin does exactly that, and heads back to his two friends.

Kevin spends a little more time with the two of his friends. And after a bit, he goes to leave back to his house. But before Streber leaves, Kevin asks if Streber has been keeping something secret from him. Streber denies it, obviously confused. Kevin, a little frustrated but anxious, tries to softly convince Streber to stop lying to him and just to tell him the truth.

Then—Streber speaks in a cold tone suddenly. And in an emotionless tone, he asks, "Okay then, Kevin. What about you? Have you been keeping anything secret?"

Kevin, now a little bit fearful and puzzled, tries to deny that he's keeping something secret as well. But Streber accuses him of being a liar in a calm but clearly angry manner. Kevin keeps trying to deny that he knows anything, but Streber insists. And when Kevin tries to tell him that he really isn't keeping anything secret, Streber suddenly yells in an angry but almost ear shattering manner, "LIAR!".

Kevin, now shocked, goes silent and just looks at Streber. Streber begins to start ranting about how much of an asshole Kevin has been for keeping secrets, and then revealing that he knew that he was talking with John the entire time. He asks him who the older man was, and why he was talking to him. But Kevin can't give any clear answer.

Streber then walks closer to Kevin, and says, "..see? You have secrets too. And I have secrets of my own too..". And then, he slowly backs up, and suddenly speaks in a normal tone yet again—"Well, I'll be going now. So see ya later, Kev!"

So Streber then proceeds to leave a now fearful Kevin just kind of standing there, wondering what the hell all of that was.

The next day, Streber invites Kevin over to his house, and hesitantly, Kevin accepts it and goes on over to his house. But he then gets a call from a number. He answers hesitantly, and it just happens to be John. Kevin asks him how he got the number, but John is very vague about it and only says that someone gave him it. But he says it isn't important how he got it because he needs to talk to him. Kevin slowly accepts this despite being a little on edge, but John begins to tell him about the curse that Carmen and Richard told him about on the night of the festival. John tells him about the series of murders that have occurred each night on the celebration, and Kevin is kinda just taking it all in.

But then, someone knocks at the door, so Kevin has to hang up temporarily.

Kevin opens the door, and seemingly, it's just Ethan. Ethan comes in and is acting normal—but he then says, "..say, how come Streber was just standing out here? Did you kick him out or something?". Kevin, puzzled, asks what he means. Ethan then says, "..he was just kind of standing there, and then he left. I don't really know. He seemed pretty happy like always though."

Kevin then realizes something.

Streber must have actually been standing out there the entire time as he and John talked to eachother on the phone, and was probably literally listening in the entire time. While this shouldn't creep out Kevin too much, he can't help but be somewhat anxious.

It then cuts to the next day. Streber tries to invite him over again, but Kevin says he can't today, excusing it with "being sick". He isn't actually sick. Streber is just starting to scare him a little.

He heads on over to the clinic, just incase Streber doubts him or something. But then he sees John. John says he wants to talk to Kevin again, so Kevin is like "yeah sure why not bro lmao".

So John talks to him a bit as they stand outside his car. John explains that he has a theory. A GAMMMEEE THEORY—just kidding. But he has a theory because two of Kevin's friends might kinda be involved with some of the deaths during the festival.

For example, he explains that Ethan happened to be last seen with one of the victims, and that Streber also happened to be kind of related to one of the other murder victims as well. Understandably, this freaks Kevin out a little, but he tries not to doubt them the best he can just because of a theory.

Later when Kevin gets home, he is surprised by a short visit from Ethan and Streber. They seem to have brought over some food that'll make him feel better, like soup and tea and all that other shit. They also brought him some meatballs because they're his favorite apparently.

After what seems like a normal conversation, Ethan says he wants to say something to Kevin before they leave.

Then, Ethan speaks in a cold tone, sounding very different. "What did you eat today?"

Kevin becomes a little anxious. Streber begins to speak in the same exact tone, and the two literally interrogate him. Then eventually, Streber is like "..uh, you okay, Kev?". Ethan teases Kevin a little, and then decides that they should leave now. The two of them are now speaking in a more normal tone.

Ethan then proceeds to try and shut the door, but then, he briefly peers through it with a stern gaze. Speaking in a cold tone, he says, "I'd hate it if we'd have to delay the hangout again, Kevin."

Then, Ethan proceeds to actually close the door, leaving Kevin in shock.

Anyway, Kevin then tries to eat the food they brought for him. It's very good surprisingly. But as he's eating one of the meatballs, he feels something inside. He takes it out, and discovers A FUCKING RAZOR BLADE IN IT HOLY SHIT.

Kevin immediately starts to freak out, and out of his own fear, he literally starts destroying the rest of the food. Afterwards, he rushes up to his bed, and begins to have a panic attack while trying to sleep.

He then cries himself to sleep.

The next day, he wakes up, and is hesitant to go visit them. But he's afraid of what will happen if he doesn't, so he holds it all in, and proceeds to try and hang out with them anyway. He's scared shitless around Streber and Ethan now, obviously. And is trying to act as if nothing ever happened.

But halfway through, he realizes that if they really will try and do shit to him, he has to prepare to defend himself at least. He knows damn well he needs proof of them being murderous assholes though, so he tries to keep note of trying to find the razor blade he probably destroyed when he gets home.

He then tries to find it once he gets back home, but he can't find it anywhere. So he panics. He literally can't prove that they're trying to kill him if he can't find any evidence, so he's in a bit of a bad place right now.

He then tries to head to bed, but hardly does.

The next day, he tries to go shopping to take his mind off of things. But as he's crossing a road, he nearly gets ran over by a van. He doesn't, obviously. But he notices the driver clicking his tongue and then driving off.

The driver was trying to kill him on purpose.

For whatever reason, people are trying to kill him on purpose.

Paranoid for the rest of the day, he tries to find something to defend himself with. In the end, he can only find a random bat, and decides that it might have to do for now. He then begins to try practicing his swing, but guess what.

Ethan and Streber show up. They act normal, Ethan teasing him and Streber asking him what he's doing. Kevin tries to excuse it with "..uhhh.. I just like baseball lately, so I'm trying to learn how to swing.". Somehow, they seem to buy this, but there's no telling. They leave him be. And with every fearful thoughts, Kevin swings more violently.

Later, Ethan and Streber try to ask if he can hang out again, but Kevin denies it. Streber tries to get him to stay, but Kevin refuses and leaves.

Kevin decides to try and walk home since it's not that far anyway, but he feels a presence behind him. In fact, he hears someone walking. He keeps looking behind himself, stopping in his tracks. But he can't find anyone. He knows they're hiding somewhere, so he stays quiet. He then hears rustling in a nearby bush, and then, he rushes over there and pulls whoever it is out by their arm.

Seemingly, it's just Streber.

Kevin, now anxious, begins to yell at Streber. Streber nervously tries to defend himself, saying he was just walking in the same direction because he had to go somewhere. But Kevin doesn't buy this, and continues screaming while literally pointing the bat at him. He then tells him to walk ahead, and Streber nervously gives in after Kevin keeps screaming at him. Streber takes a few steps foward, but then turns around.

Streber then asks, "Why are you acting the same?!"

Kevin is puzzled, and is like "..what do you mean bro". Streber then drops the bomb. "WHY ARE YOU ACTING THE SAME AS RADFORD?! AND WHY ARE YOU CARRYING THE SAME BAT?!"

Kevin freezes. In this au, Radford vanished mysteriously like a hear ago. And a few days before he vanished, he began practicing baseball despite not even being interested in it. Kevin barely knew Radford when he was around, and he also then realizes the bat is in fact Radfords upon seeing his name scribbled on the bottom of it. Streber then starts listing how Radford behaved in his last days of being around, but then hesitates when he says "AND THEN ONE DAY, HE SUDDENLY..!"

Kevin, anxious, literally yells at Streber to tell him what happened next, figuring it would happen to him too.

He then grabs Streber by the shoulder to get him to answer. But the. Streber speaks in a cold manner, now having a menacing look on his face. "..he moved."

Kevin obviously knows this is bullshit, since Radford randomly vanished, he didn't move. But he's so in shock from the mood change that he can't speak. Streber then says, "..I won't let you do it, Kevin. I won't let you move away."

Kevin then drops to his knees, and after a bit, he scrambles to his feet and runs away to his house. But Streber just stands there, smiling.

Kevin makes it back to his house, now out of breath. But he's so paranoid that he's now hearing things. Kevin violently swings at everything he hears, and eventually, he passes out in his own house from sheer exhaustion.

A few hours later, Kevin wakes up. Because he ends up hearing his phone buzzing. He slowly answers it, and it appears to just be John again. The two talk for a little bit about Kevin, and Kevin anxiously tells John he couldn't find the razor blade unfortunately. After a bit more talking, someone knocks at the door.

Kevin wants so badly to keep calling John while talking to whoever it may be, but he doesn't want whoever it is to do anything more. So he temporarily hangs up. He then answers the door.

And guess who it is—FUCKING STREBER but he appears to be holding a box of pizza this time for some reason. Luckily, Kevin put a lock on the door earlier, so Streber can't force himself in. Even if he wanted to. The door is half open, but the two are both separated by the lock.

Kevin begins to anxiously talk to Streber. Streber casually explains in a friendly but equally nervous manner that he brought him some pizza since he wanted to do something nice for him. Kevin tries to tell Streber that he's already made dinner to make him go away. But Streber doesn't buy this, and the same cold tone returns once more.

Streber asks Kevin why he's lying. And when Kevin tries to deny it, Streber loudly yells "LIAR!". Streber then calmly proceeds to confess that he's basically been stalking him by reciting that a few days ago, Kevin had bought ramen at the store, and that he had been following him the whole time. Streber tells the now frightened Kevin ramen won't fill his stomach, so he then begins to pull on the lock, telling Kevin over and over again to let him in.

Kevin, out of his own fear, proceeds to scream and violently shuts the door. But the thing is—Strebers fingers are literally caught in the door. Kevin is too scared to really think logically though, so he keeps it shut, ignoring Strebers cries of pain. And eventually, Streber manages to get his fingers out of the door.

Kevin hears Strebers muffled cries of agony from outside the door, but he ignores it, and runs upstairs. He's intent on telling John what happened, so he goes to his bedroom and blocks the door with a nearby heavy object just incase Streber might somehow break in.

As Kevin calls John and frantically begs him to help him, he sees something outside the window.

It's Streber, just standing out there right outside his window. Over and over again, he is mouthing the words, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Kevin begins repeating those words once he realizes what he's saying, leaving John confused and concerned.

The next day, Kevin heads out for like a few minutes, but only to practice swinging his bat again.

But then, Ethan drops by. Ethan tries to do casual conversation, but it's clear he needs something, so Kevin asks him what he needs. Ethan then sternly tells Kevin to stop swinging the bat. Kevin asks why, but Ethan gives no direct answer. Kevin begins to finally let his anger and fear out, and proceeds to literally cry while finally confronting Ethan. Ethan appears confused, and even a little startled. Kevin doesn't even let Ethan speak though, and ends the conversation abruptly and then tries to go back to his house.

As he does though, he hears Ethan muttering something under his breath. He hears Ethan muttering over and over that he's going to literally kill John. This understandably scares Kevin and he heads back in.

The next day, Kevin is hesitant about heading out, but decides to because he needs more food anyway. So he hesitantly goes shopping, but carries his baseball bat around just incase. As he leaves though, he feels that someone is following him. Out of fear, he goes to hide behind the nearest tree. And then, he sees who it is.

It's Streber, carrying a shovel for no apparent reason. But Kevin can only assume it isn't a good reason. Streber has a cold and ominous sadistic expression, and is literally calling out to Kevin like a serial killer.

And then, somehow, Streber finds Kevin. Kevin, frightened, asks him what he's doing. Streber calmly answers he's doing the same thing as he is—he's going back to his house. Kevin asks what the shovel is for, and Streber then asks what the bat is for. Kevin answers nervously that he's practicing his swing, and Streber calmly answers, "Then I lost something again near the construction site, and I have to dig it up."

With no questions asked, Kevin begins to run, and Streber starts laughing manically in a soft manner. Streber begins to slowly follow after Kevin as he runs away, and is somehow managing to be right behind him no matter where he is.

Kevin asks him why he's following him in a frantic manner. Streber answers, "Its because I'm walking home too, Kev. What else would it be?~". Kevin keeps running as Streber maniacally laughs from behind him, and he kinda has no choice but to go run on an alternative path. But Streber still follows him.

Kevin asks him why he's still following him. And Streber calmly says, "Because I need to talk to you, Kev~"

Kevin keeps yelling for him to stop following him. And after a bit of back and forth, Streber yells angrily, "NO!" and then proceeds to manically laugh while still following him.

Kevin runs still, going down an alternative path as well. Streber taunts him, saying, "Cmon.. there's something you wanna talk about, isn't there?~". Kevin says no, and Streber yells back angrily, "LIAR!" and then laughs maniacally once more.

As Kevin continues to run away, Streber begins to speak in a somewhat calm but clearly frantic manner as he smiles. "Radford was so worried too.. before he moved away. But I didn't listen. I didn't do anything.. but this time I'll listen. This time I'll listen! You won't move away like he did.. you won't! Thats right.. you wont, you wont, you wont..."

Kevin then runs onto a farther path. And Streber continues speaking in a manic state, "I won't let anyone who's worried move away.. not again. Not again, not again, nOT AGAIN! NOT AGAIN!" He practically screams this too like holy shit—how is no one hearing him? /lh

Streber then starts taunting Kevin, saying, "C'mon~.. c'mon.. let's just hang out, okay? Talk to me. Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me.. come help me dig out what I lost, okay? Then nothing will happen. Nothing.. NOTHING! Nothing will happen at all.."

Kevin then eventually becomes so exhausted to the point where he falls to the ground. Streber catches up with him, and smiles. He swings his shovel upwards, and looks down at Kevin. Kevin then asks in a frantic way if he was behind the vanishing of Radford, or if it was Ethan, or someone else.

Streber appears confused, and then says, "..Ohhhh, I don't think you understand. Let me make it simple, okay? It's the curse of the stars..".

Kevin, now even more frightened, listens as Streber begins to manically rant about the curse, and how he spoke to Eyes. And how he knows what Eyes wants. Streber then says in a menacing way, "I'm the only one who can help you, Kev~" while getting closer and closer.

Kevin, in a sudden act of fear, springs to his feet finally and shoves Streber away as he then darts into the distance. He listens as Streber laughs manically. He runs near the construction site, and then, being out of breath and completely exhausted—he collapses.

He then wakes up, but he isn't there still. He's in Strebers house now, with Streber looking at him as he lays down. Streber seems to be acting normal again though, and literally asks in a worried manner, "What the hell were you doing?!". Kevin is puzzled, for Streber should have remembered what happened. Streber frantically asks if he's okay, like he doesn't even remember what happened.

Ethan then comes in after Streber and Kevin converse, and Ethan is like "Geez.. you look riled up. What happened?". Streber tells Ethan that Kevin was running away frantically and then collapsed. Kevin tries to say what Streber did, but Ethan interrupts him.

After a bit, Streber and Ethan speak ominously about "The Doctor" and how she should be "arriving soon". Kevin asks what that means, but they just start laughing manically.

Then, like a switch, their cold sides are back. Streber suddenly grabs Kevin by the arms, and doesn't let him go. Ethan then pulls out a needle, and smiles. Ominously, he says, "Dont worry.. this'll all be over soon. It'll be just like with Richard, okay?". Ethan then proceeds to try and inject him, but then everything goes black.

The next thing Kevin knows, he's in the corner of his room and the light is out. But in the dark, he can see Ethans bloody corpse laying beside the window, and Strebers corpse laying on the carpet.

Frantically, Kevin panics. He realizes that he must have killed them, seeing that there is a bloody bat nearby. He then begins to write frantically on a note, confessing to what he did. And then afterwards, he escapes out of a window.

An hour later, John receives a call from Kevin, who sounds as if he's choking, and who also sounds panicked. John asks what's happening, and if he's okay, but the situation sounds so dangerous to the point where he tries to see if he can send officers to wherever he is.

Kevin says it's too late, saying that Eyes has finally gotten to him. And then, John hears Kevin choking on the other end of the phone, and hears him screaming in pain.

A few hours later, they find Kevin, with his throat clawed out, and him laying on a random path in the middle of nowhere.

And that is the end of this part of the story.

[gayboy-convention]

2, 7, 14 for Codor. 6, 13, 21 for Luci. 9, 24, 27 for Ingram

OH BOY LONG ONE!!! OKAY LET'S GO

Codor

2. Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

Codor is actually pretty good at taking care of animals and plants, and would be a good babysitter! I actually have a chapter planned about Codor, Luci, and Ingram attempting to nurse a sick rabbit back to health :3 heheh

7. Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Me: Stubborn, empathetic, determined

Him: Weak, stupid, worthless

14. Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

Codor definitely thinks guilty pleasures are a real thing, but he claims to have none... in reality, he gets embarrassed when people catch him enjoying something other than pranks, especially if it's someone showing affection for him or vice versa, so in a way that could be considered one of his guilty pleasures.

Luci

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

They don't really like taking advice, but when they do 99% of the time it's from Codor. Which is ironic, because Codor will jokingly give Luci bad advice and Luci takes it seriously and says they'll never take it. When Codor isn't joking and is actually being sincere, he can give really good advice to Luci which is part of why they're grateful for him.

13. Name one thing their parents taught them.

Luci's parents taught them that no one's worth is tied to how much they put into the world. Unfortunately for Luci, that applies to everyone but them.

21. What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

Kind of hard to say, mostly because Luci can be loyal to a flaw even if they dislike someone since they wanna fix everyone. But probably something like extreme abuse or murder. Actually, scratch the murder thing because they found out Ingram ate someone alive and still decided to date him.

Ingram

9. Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

Ingram empathizes with pretty much nothing, but Luci definitely empathizes with objects which confuses Ingram. Sometimes Ingram will throw something away and Luci will take it back to their place because they feel bad for it. Ingram was definitely the kid who performed surgery on his toys for shits and giggles.

24. Honesty or charity?

Charity, because to him charity doesn't always mean that you have to have a relationship with someone. and if you have a relationship, you should be honest, which he can't trust that he will be.

27. Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

Ingram learned that his daughter figure's bio dad was abusive so he said "anyone gonna kill that guy" and didn't wait for an answer. definitely vengeful.

[lost-and-cursed]

As someone who have been jokingly gaslighted, it's not necessarily disqualifyer

I just saw someone say the words "jokingly gaslight" this might be a good time to reintroduce the internet to the terms "lying" or perhaps "pranking" or even just "joking" on it's own

[imagine-darksiders]

Y/N convinces the Horsemen to join them to hang out with one of their best friends, Y/N and said friend are jokingly insulting each other and friend joking responds to an insult with "I'm gonna kill you" and the Horseman thinks they mean it literally.

I have got scenarios for Strife, but I'm really sorry, I lost motivation for his. It just wasn't feeling right, but I hope the other three Horsemen make up for it :)

War:

“If you take that last slice of pizza, I'm going to kill you,” is perhaps not the most intelligent thing for your dear friend, John, to say within ear-shot of your equally dear friend, War.

Your mouth opens to laugh as you lean away from the pizza box and raise your hands in surrender, acquiescing easily. Far be it from you to risk having your fingers bitten off by your ravenous friend. But just as John's fingertips dip into the box to seek out his prize, he's suddenly torn from his seat on the sofa with a startled yelp and hoisted over the back of it, his legs paddling uselessly at several feet of empty air.

“The HELL!?” he bleats as you frantically leap from your own seat and whirl around to find War standing rigidly behind you, his metal gauntlet fisted into the back of John's collar.

With an indignant squawk of, “War!” you dart around the sofa and snag a handful of the Horseman's blood-red cloak, heaving back on it with all your strength whilst he only draws a hapless John closer to his hood, snarling at your fellow human with sharpened canines and a ferocious scowl that knits his brows together.

“What is the meaning of this slight!?” War bellows, giving John a rough jostle, “You dare to threaten an ally of mine?”

The man in his immoveable grasp wheezes, digging his fingers beneath his top button in an attempt to keep it from pressing so ardently into his throat. “Wh-at're you... talking about!?” he rasps, beyond bewildered - a feeling you concur with wholeheartedly.

“War – dammit, War!” Giving up on the cloak, you instead throw your arms around the immense Horseman's elbow and give his appendage an almighty wrench, but even throwing your weight back doesn't budge him an inch. “Put him down!”

Stiffly, War's head creaks around to peer at you from the corner of one, ice-blue eye. Peeling his lips back, he seethes, “I will not stand idly by while a threat is made against my charge.”

You're under no illusions. Historically, if War perceives a threat, he'll pursue it with dogged ambition until he's close enough to put his broadsword straight through its chest. John is in grave danger right now, and although the Horseman might have something of a soft spot for you, you're by no means influential enough to keep him restrained if he wants to run someone through with Chaoseater.

All you can do is try to reason with him.

“Y/n-!” John manages to squeak out, but he's silenced by a sudden, vicious shake.

Thinking fast, you duck beneath War's outstretched arm to stand in front of him, drawing yourself up as high as you can and reaching out a hand, placing a warm palm against the Horseman's chiselled jaw.

The move is so foreign, so unexpected, that War's glare bursts open to a look of shock and he swivels his eyes down to the tiny fingertips resting near the hollow of his cheek.

Something small and tentative ignites in the Horseman's chest, so different from the sparks of rage circling his heart. Outwardly, he rushes to drop his glower back into place, levelling a murderous glare at the human dangling from his grasp, but once again, you try to soothe his ire with your voice, murmuring softly, “War, it's okay. It was just a joke. Just a bad joke, like the ones Strife sometimes makes, yeah?”

“Strife would never threaten to kill you,” the Horseman points out darkly, never once taking his eyes off John.

“Think about it,” you plead, “Do you really believe John would actually threaten me while you're in the room?”

War blinks, and miraculously, the metal fingers around John's collar loosen ever so slightly. 'No,' the Nephilim supposes, 'No, probably not.'

The human, John, may be an imbecile, but he hasn't lost his mind... Not yet.

With little more than a dismissive grunt, War finally pries his hand apart and allows John to drop like a stone.

Needless to say, your friend isn't too keen on sticking around to risk incurring the wrath of War again, so he beats a hasty retreat through your door, tossing a quick, “Text me when he's gone!” by way of a few parting words.

Death:

You suppose you should be grateful that Death is the most shrewd of the Horsemen. He, at least, has learned that not everything humans say to one another needs to be taken so literally. However, when it comes to matters concerning your well-being, he's never been one to take any chances.

Your friend is sitting on your left, Death to your right, in a worn, old armchair he's long since staked a claim over.

“Y/n, give me the remote.”

“I am not watching another hour of Strictly,” you laugh, playfully holding the television remote far away from your friend's grasping hands, “I just can't do it!”

They make a calculated lunge, succeeding in grabbing your wrist and grinning wickedly as they shout, “Give it back!”

“No way!”

“Give it back, or I swear to god, I'm gonna kill you!”

No sooner have the words left your friend's mouth than the temperature in the living room plummets.

Immediately, the pair of you know that something is wrong. It's a dead giveaway when your breath suddenly starts billowing out in large, white puffs of air. A single creak of old springs is all that alerts you to the looming threat, one far greater to your friend than it is to you. Meeting their eye, you shoot them a pointed look and hope they catch the meaning behind your furrowed brow and wide, worried eyes. 'No sudden movements.'

Slowly, cautiously, you turn your head towards the Nephilim, hardly surprised to find that he's gone from sitting to standing with barely a sound to warn you. That dread-inducing bone mask stares hard at your friend, who snatches their hand from your wrist and cowers backwards against the sofa cushions, likely wondering what had gone wrong. You promised them they were in no danger from your ethereal friend.

You, on the other hand, know exactly what's provoked him, and as grateful as you are to have Death himself in your corner, there are a few instances where you wish he'd tone down his overbearing tendencies. 'Eldest sibling syndrome,' Strife had called it, 'He's a son of a bitch, but he's a protective son of a bitch.'

“Death...” you utter warily, shifting forwards to better cover your friend from the Horseman's piercing glare, “It was just a joke. This is my friend, they'd never hurt me.”

Spluttering, they whip their eyes dart frantically between you and the Horseman. “That's what he thinks I-...” Aghast, they lean around you to meet Death's stare, incessant apologies already babbling from their lips. “- I am so sorry, I didn't mean-! I wasn't being serious!? It was just a joke-”

“- Oh?” the Nephilim cuts in with a cool air of indifference that fools nobody, “Odd. I was under the impression that jokes are intended to be funny.”

“This coming from you,” you deadpan whilst your friend stares at you like you've lost your mind.

You haven't. You don't think you have anyway, though it may certainly seem that way, talking back to a being so powerful that he can alter physics with just a slight change in his mood. But Death revoked his status as the Universe's Scariest Bastard when he announced himself as your guardian.

“Stop trying to be intimidating,” you hiss at him, earning a flat look in response. Right... He's not the type of Horseman who has to try at intimidation. Instead, you roll your eyes at him and say, “Look, just sit down, please? You know it was a joke. I know it was a joke. I'm in no danger here.”

Death's poisonous glare continues eating into your friend's ducked head, but at last, the ancient Nephilim gives a grunt, settling back down into his seat and curling his long, sinewy fingers over the arms like a gargoyle perched watchfully on top of a spire.

At the Horseman's apparent withdrawal, your friend relaxes a little, slumping down into the cushions with a soft sigh. You however, have been around Death for far too long to be fooled by his nonchalant slouch and heavy-lidded gaze.

He may have sat back down, but the Horseman is far from appeased. You can still see little wisps of breath escape through your lips. Heaving a long-suffering sigh, you ease yourself back into your own seat on the sofa, keeping a wary eye on Death, not for your own sake, but for that of your friend. For all his scathing remarks and callous behaviour, Death has never taken threats against his family lightly, be they threats made in jest or not.

Fury:

Fury doesn't like this.

She really doesn't like this. So far, your friend has done nothing but monopolise your attention, and though it aggrieves her immensely to have to admit it, Fury misses those instances where it's just you and her.

What can she say? She's the jealous type. Envy had proven that tenfold during her time in Haven city.

She's stepped out into your garden, through the sliding glass doors, where she paces back and forth in the drizzling rain whilst you and your friend remain in the warm, dry kitchen, talking across the counter together about life before the Apocalypse.

'Catching up,' you'd called it.

The Horseman could only listen to your friend make you laugh for so long before she grew agitated by the fondness in your tone. She's never noticed it while you're speaking to her.

Having tuned out the conversation muffling along indoors, she almost misses the alarming words entirely.

“Ugh, Y/n, you're literally the worst,” followed swiftly by, “I'm gonna kill you!”

Context is never something Fury has been particularly concerned about. And in this instance, she couldn't care less for clarity.

Whether because she's already been aggravated by her own, foolish jealousy, or because she's become hard-wired to respond to threats made against you with all the ferocious power of a lioness protecting her cub, Fury finds she can't keep Havoc shackled, nor does she especially want to.

Without warning, an eruption of blackened flames rips across your garden, burning away the flowers you'd painstakingly planted along the wall of your home last month. Scorch marks lick dark shadows across the grass, and a thunderous boom shakes the house on its foundations as a veritable monster bursts through the supernatural flames in place of a Horseman.

Havoc – the terrifying beast that lurks deep within Fury's raging heart, biding its time until a threat arises that's too great for the Horseman to handle with weapons alone. White-hot fire rages through the cracks in her crimson armour, sending sparks flitting out to be doused by the falling rain.

She drops to a knee in front of the sliding door, where she can already hear her human calling out to her, asking if she's all right. The other human, the so-called friend, is too busy screaming about the beast that's just thrust it's colossal, clawed hand through the entrance to your home, grasping blindly for a moment before those armoured fingers make contact with something small and squishy.

The hand snaps shut like a trap, pulling a writhing human across the little kitchen and upskittling the furniture as it pulls its catch from the house.

Havoc's grasp relaxes almost urgently once she lays her burning eyes on her own human, thrusting your fists against the fingers she's wrapped you up in. “Fury!” you bark, suddenly and alarmingly frantic, “What the Hell!? What's happening? What's wrong!?”

Nothing. Nothing's wrong, she'd tell you, if Havoc possessed either a mouth or the ability to communicate at all in this form. Nothing's wrong now that you're safe in her hands, away from that other human who'd made such a foolish threat against you, obviously thinking they were safe from the Horseman's keen ears.

She'll deal with them later. For, now, Fury's immense brute of a form raises to her feet, tucking you into her chest to shelter you from the rain. She turns, ignoring her human's fists as they continue to beat fruitlessly at her unrelenting grip, demanding to know where she thinks she's going.

Havoc clears your garden fence with a single step, barely having to raise her leg. First, she'll be taking you somewhere safe – her own home, perhaps, in another realm far from Earth, far from the human who poses a risk to your safety. Then, she'll be paying said human a visit, perhaps even try asking them for some context to their claim that they'd 'kill you.'

And the Creator help them if they don't come up with something good...

[rogue-durin-16]

UNSURPRISING

Summary: There were a few moments during Fred's friendship with Y/n's in which they were a bit too close to kissing. Then, there was that one time they did.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

Warnings: language maybe, murder

A/N: this one was not scheduled for tonight but I wanted to cheer @meph1stophelian up because she deserves it, so enjoy your dose of Fred fluff <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Okay, Y/n," Ginny grabbed a pastry from the platter which we had stolen from the kitchen and that now laid on a small coffee table in the middle of the Room of Requirement. "truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to... Wait." She thought about it for a second before leaning on Luna to ask her something. "I dare you to kiss Fred."

"Uh-uh." Fred, who had just moved to the higher table where the drinks had been laid, was quick to respond, "Not happening." shortly after followed by me.

"I'm not doing that."

"You can't skip a dare!" Ron exclaimed outraged.

"I can if I'm over eight years old." I replied, leaning back on the couch with my arms crossed.

"What she said." Fred agreed, raising his glass at me before drinking.

"Since when do you two back out of a dare?" Ginny questioned with a frown.

"Since this girl here" he motioned at me "started dating Pucey."

"What?" Harry asked in shock. "Pucey? Pucey as in Adrian Pucey?"

"Yeah?" I replied.

"You and Pucey?" Hermione raised her brows and gave Ginny a confused look. "I don't quite see it."

"Oi, what's there to see? I'm the only one who has to see it, don't you think?" I responded, slightly annoyed. "And why is no one talking about this bloke's love life?" I pointed at Fred who now stood behind me. "He's dating that Hufflepuff girl too!"

He tsked his tongue. "Not anymore."

"That's... unsurprising." George commented.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fred questioned suspicious, kicking my leg for me to move aside so he could sit.

His twin snorted. "You know what's supposed to mean." He took a sip from his drink before nodding at Ginny. "C'mon Gin, change the dare— for Pucey's sake." George scanned us both with analyzing eyes before adding, "we don't want Y/n to end up ditching his boyfriend for this twit, now do we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"YEEEEH" I was already down on the arena, clapping, when Fred landed with a wide cocky grin on his face, his breathing ragged due to the match's intense last few minutes.

I had rushed down the moment the snitch was caught to be the first one to congratulate him, so I was quite breathless too.

"Did you see me up there? Saving the bloody match!" He exclaimed, tossing his broom and bat on the ground in order to catch me when I threw myself to him.

"You were brilliant oh my gosh!" I let out a surprised laugh. The match seemed pretty much lost until Fred's performance came into play. "Oi, don't let it go to your head!" I was quick to add, pulling away from his embrace.

"Y/n Y/l/n just said I'm brilliant," He stated, the grin not leaving his face. "it's definitely going to my head."

I groaned, letting my forehead fall against his chest. His heart was beating fast, but I blamed it on the adrenaline of the match.

But what was I supposed to blame on the way my own heartbeat picked up when his hand found the small of my back and casually pulled me a tad closer?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Oi," I slid open the door's compartment and scanned it briefly before saying, "everything's full, do you mind—"

"Not at all." Fred rapidly answered, sitting up slightly but quickly returning to his laid back position after I had taken a seat by his side.

I had a brief exchange of words with George and Lee before silence fell upon us; it was quite unsual, yet understandable due to the exhaustion we had been put under during the last semester.

It was because of it that Lee fell asleep, shortly after followed by George. I took the chance to grab my book to avoid giving in to the sleep, though my reading was soon disturbed by Fred's foot tapping over the upholstery of the seat.

"What?" I questioned quietly, my brow quirked at him while my eyes peeked over the book.

"What are you reading?"

"Advanced Potion-Making— what do you want?"

"Rude." I rolled my eyes, making a smirk dance on his lips. He seemed to weigh what he was about to say. "I got you something for Christmas."

"Wait— you what?" He got up, ignoring my shock, and, stretching his hands to reach his bag, he pulled out a small package. "I— you—"

"Speechless, I see." He pointed out amused, handing me the package before plopping back down, his gaze trained on me. "C'mon, open it." His teeth trapped his lower lip in anticipation, and I felt how my blood started to pump violently through my veins before I unwrapped the present. "A little birdy told me you liked... What's it called? Chokers?" I could only nod, speechless at the delicate choker in my lap. "I mean, my hand would have been just as good but you can wear this one in public too."

My face flared up at his words and astonishment was replaced by the usual need to fuck that little bastard up. "I hate you."

"I'm kidding, love." He chuckled, tugging on his sleeves and nodding at the jewelry. "You like it?"

The softness in his gaze made my anger go away as I took another look at the choker. "I love it, but you didn't have to." I scrunched my nose. "it looks very—"

"If you say expensive I'll shove it up your arse so watch your tongue." He warned me, half jokingly and half serious.

"What a way of ruining a sweet gesture." I pointed out, feigning a pout.

"Don't worry, I'll make it sweet again, you'll see—" he pushed himself away from the wall and scooted closer to me, tending his palm. "Give it to me." I obeyed and shifted my position so I would have my back to him. His fingers moved my hair away before his hands carefully placed the strap of velvet around my throat and clasped it. "There." He whispered, putting my hair back in place.

I turned around again without any clue of what to tell him. "I-I'd have gotten you something—"

"Y/n, it's a gift, not a trade." He gave me a warm smile, one that anyone rarely got to see, and my face heated up once more. His eyes seemed to flicker to my lips just for an instant, but he soon averted them from me to check on our peers. "Don't tell them, I won't hear the end of it."

I too peeked at them before leaning in and placing a soft kiss on Fred's cheek. "Merry Christmas, Fred."

The little smile grew into a wide side grin while he casted his face down, fixing it on his hands. "Merry Christmas, Y/n."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was out after curfew, yes, but I wasn't doing anything bad, just visiting my friends in their common room; I only had to be careful and no one would notice me.

Or so I thought.

To my luck, while I was tiptoeing through one of the halls, none other than Fred Weasley bumped into me.

"Shit!" We both took a moment to observe one another. "Alright, sorry in advance." He apologised, taking a peek at the path he had taken before grabbing my hand and pulling me with him.

I didn't hesitate on running with me; I knew he had brought trouble directly to me, and if I didn't follow, I would get detention and, with Umbridge in control, I had to avoid that at all costs.

"Wait wait— Here!" He tapped what I assumed was a camouflaged door and pulled me inside before it could open completely.

We both reached for the door at the same time, shutting it as fast and quiet as possible and stepping back right in time to hear what I assumed was a part of Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad.

Fred was so close that I could feel his heavy breath tickling my neck while we stumbled back into the pitch black darkness of the narrow passage.

"Well, that was close." I commented, trying to keep my pants at bay; it was the only sound heard —our pants.

His hands left my biceps to presumably fall limply on his sides, but he didn't step back to put some space between us. I couldn't see anything, but I still turned around and instantly knew his eyes were trying to find mines, just like my fingertips attempted to intertwin with his.

It was a bad idea, but no one had to know; the lack of light in the secret passage would prevent anyone to witness it, even us.

No one would see it, I thought, trailing my fingers up his arm until I reached his cheek.

His own hand made its way to my waist, giving it a squeeze and pulling me to him.

I pushed him away as soon as we heard Filch's cat miaowing at the hidden door, followed by the erratic running of the caretaker.

Fred grunted in frustration. "C'mon!" He rushed me, taking my hand once more and running down the ginnel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were running breathless, hands held, casting spells left and right.

'Don't stop moving' Arthur had said when the part of the castle we were defending fell into the Dementors' claws.

One of the Carrow apparated a few feet ahead of us, sending a Cruciatus in our direction even before we came to a halt in our running.

Fred raised his wand, quick as lightning, shielding us from the curse, and I didn't miss a beat before hexing the death eater, hitting her right in the chest.

Fred spun around to guard my back from another death eater that stood behind us while I, seeing that the Carrow sister attempted to get up, casted another stunning spell at her, only that this time it hit her shield.

Both Fred and I duelled the two Voldemort's acolytes until we managed to take them out almost simultaneously, yet in very different ways.

"STUPEFY!" Fred yelled out loud to enhance the spell's effect.

I did the same, knowing I needed that extra push to take Carrow out only that my spell was way more harmful. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Fred turned around, still gripping my hand, to see the death eater's corpse on the floor. "Fuck!" He exclaimed.

"Was that a good 'fuck' or a bad 'fuck'?" I inquired, adrenaline pumping through my veins when I turned to meet the redhead's eyes, sparkling with excitement.

"Definitely a good 'fuck'." We both let out a laugh as if I hadn't just murdered someone. "Kiss me." He demanded; fortunately, I was thinking that same thing, so my lips crashed against his in a rough kiss right after he had finished the sentence.

We both tried to pour into the kiss as much sentiment as possible to let the other know how much we had craved to do that for the last three years. Our hands and arms were wrapped around each other, pulling our bodies as close as possible in the now empty corridor as if the world was about to end; it most likely was.

"Being realistic," I began speaking against his lips, once he had pulled away only enough for us to breathe. "we might be dead by tomorrow," if the situation was a bit different, we would probably be crying, but our little victory had made euphoria flood our hearts. "so know that—"

"I love you too." He finished with a nod.

I nodded back, pecking his lips before untangling by limbs from his and pulling him with me in order to resume our jog away.

[mca-attack21]

Distraction part 1

This is a mini series that is Scott x Reader. And before you ask, yes I am still writing the Stiles Sis Fic series the next part will be out relatively soon. I've been busy planning out the later seasons so I could make sure to time everything correctly. Anyways, for more of my writing here is my Masterlist.

Friday

It started as a normal day, you woke up and prepared for school. It was not long before your phone lit up with messages from your boyfriend. It was something along the line of ‘Good morning beautiful’ ‘I can’t wait to see you at school’ ‘I love you’. Every message caused the smile on your face to grow. You loved Scott. He was the guy who had seen you at your worst but would only talk about you at your best. He had a unique ability to make everything better. It was like as long as the two of you were together, nothing could ever stand in your way.

You were about to leave your house when your phone buzzed again. This time the text was from Lydia. ‘Ready for this weekend?’ she sent. ‘Totally, my bags are already in the car’ you replied. You, Allison, and Lydia were going to leave right after the Lacrosse game and go up to one of her family’s cabins. She had decided that you were in need of mandatory girl time. After all, you hadn’t spent much time together with all of the supernatural chaos.

It was a normal school day. You were greeted by Scott and Stiles. You sat through all of your classes, met up with Lydia at lunch, and talked to Scott during your shared free period. After school was over you hung out with Scott until he had to start getting ready for his game.

“I wish you didn’t have to go with Lydia” he pouted jokingly.

“It’s not that big of a deal Scott I’ll be back Sunday night,” you replied.

“I know but that is two whole days without you,” he answered.

“Exactly, it’s two days” you laughed, “You’ll be fine” you added.

“We can text, right?” Scott asked.

“Well as much as I would love to, Lydia would kill me, and there is no signal up there anyways,” you answered.

“This is about to be the longest 48 hours of my life,” Scott groaned.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s a good opportunity to have some bro time with Stiles, maybe you can finally watch Star Wars,” you remarked as you started to get up.

“Not so fast,” Scott said as he pulled you back down onto his bed and kissed you.

“Scott” *kiss* “I” *kiss* “Love” *kiss* “you, but” *kiss* “we have” *kiss* “to go” *kiss* you managed to say before he pulled away. You tried to look away from him knowing you were blushing hard. “Good luck tonight, not that you’ll need it. I love you and I’ll see you Sunday if not before then,” you said hugging him.

“I love you too Y/n, I’ll see you at the game,” he returned.

You went to Lydia’s house and went through the plan one last time. She went through a checklist to make sure that neither you nor Allison had forgotten anything. After that, it was time for the three of you to go to the game.

You watched the game and cheered for both Scott and Stiles. The team won 5-3. You were getting ready to go when Allison realized that she forgot to put her bag in Lydia’s car. Lydia was going to take her back and grab the bag. You decided to use the time to catch your boyfriend before leaving. You were weaving through the crowd when someone’s hand went over your mouth. “Nighty Night Y/n,” you heard an eerily familiar voice before feeling a pinch in your neck and seeing everything fade to black.

‘Hey Lyds, I’m really sorry but my mom called. She’s in the hospital. It’s not serious, but I’m staying here with her.’

Lydia text you back, ‘Do you want us to come with you, we can reschedule’

‘No don’t do that. Go have fun. We can hang out next weekend’

‘Are you sure? It’s not that big of a deal,’ she replied.

‘Don’t worry Lydia, it’s fine, just enjoy yourselves, I’ll see you Monday’

‘Okay, see you Monday’ She answered as she and Allison started to leave.

“What’s up?” Allison asked.

“Something came up and Y/n can’t come with us,” Lydia answered.

“Awe, that’s too bad, you still want to go?” Allison questioned.

“Of course, let’s do this, phones off” she replied, turning off her own phone.

Scott was dragged to a party with Stiles. It was for a friend of Stiles’, Heather. Scott didn’t really want to go, he couldn’t get drunk and he wouldn’t know anyone other than Stiles. But Stiles had insisted that it would make the time without you and Lydia more bearable. As Stiles entered he was greeted with a passionate kiss from none other than the birthday girl herself. He was quickly whisked away to the wine cellar. Scott reluctantly moved into the living room, grabbed a drink, and pulled out his phone. He smiled as he saw he had a text from you. ‘Hey babe, I’m leaving with the girls, turning my phone off now. Love you, see you Sunday!’

That was the last text sent before your phone was shut off and thrown in the dumpster behind the school. “That will buy me some time,” your kidnapper replied before driving away with you unconscious in the back seat.

Saturday

The day started off pretty normally for Scott. He went to text you before he remembered that you wouldn’t have service. He was glad that you were able to get away and relax with the girls. He had decided to go to the field with Stiles to practice Lacrosse. But he couldn’t shake a gut feeling that something was wrong. Stiles explained to Scott that there was a body found and that he was waiting on his dad to see if it was anything supernatural. Scott couldn’t help but be slightly uninterested. He was tired of death and the supernatural world, he was just a kid, and for once he wanted to act like it. Scott stared out the window of Roscoe, and wondered what you were doing right now.

........

You woke up and were caught completely off guard. It was dark and you were sitting knee-deep in water. There was a light above you. You must have been in a well. But you couldn’t remember how you would have got here. You went to reach for your aching head and realized that your hands were bound. You tried standing up splashing the water around which sent a shiver through your body. You wondered how long you had been missing. You weren’t that worried though, you were supposed to be with Lydia and Allison. They wouldn’t have left without you. And once Scott found out, he’d come for you. But then again, you were trapped in water, which meant he’d have a hard time following your scent. And you didn’t know how long you’d already been down here. You started to worry, trying to break your hands free so you could attempt to climb the wall. But that would take hours.

Meanwhile:

Scott and Stiles were at Stiles' house about to start their movie marathon when Stiles got a text. “Woah dude, you remember that body they found earlier?” Stiles asked, rereading the message in disbelief.

“Yeah, what about it?” Scott asked, wishing he could have one night off.

“It wasn’t just your average dead body. There was a significant blow to the head, his throat was slashed, and he was strangled by a garrote,” Stiles explained.

“Okay Stiles, but that doesn’t exactly sound supernatural, can’t we let the police handle this one?” Scott tried.

“Yeah I guess, but talk about overkill,” he answered, though he was planning on looking into it more after his best friend went home. Nothing was ever as it seemed in Beacon Hills, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t prepared for the worst-case scenario.

The two of them ate pizza and started to watch the first movie, however it wasn’t long after Scott finished eating that he fell asleep. Stiles took this time to do research on the latest murder.

Later that night:

You had finally managed to unbind your hands after what felt like hours of scraping them against the brick. You wanted to climb up the wall but it was now so dark that you could barely see your hand in front of your face. You decided that it would have to wait until morning. You sat back in the cold water, trying to find a safe position to sit in. The water was so cold. Your throat was sore from the screaming you had done earlier. You started crying as you realized the severity of your situation. You could die down here. You were going to die down here if someone didn’t find you soon. You thought about Scott. The only comfort that you felt was in knowing that he was out there looking for you. After a while, you drifted out of consciousness.

[cosmicbash]

Fuck it.

I got possessed by a Pelly ghost, or my heavy duty flu medication I'm on and somehow started and finished a Pelly smut prompt in like a half hour, so, to that anon who asked-

Here's some completely unedited, messy ass, probably nonsensical Pelly smut from my medicated ass. I hope you enjoy it 👏

This shit is like 2.5k what the FUCK

Colson and Pete liked to fool around.

Not just in the childish prank war or food fight type of way either. Alot of times their goofy little games quickly changed genres to something more adult. It was hard to avoid, what with the drugs, their chemistry, and the allure of something taboo that came with kissing your best friend.

It never got much farther than handjobs and side by side circle jerks though, and even those felt weird for the first dozen times. Colson didn't really think of himself as bi, or pan, or queer, or whatever the hell they were calling dudes who also jerked off dudes in between banging hot chick's nowadays. Mainly because he didn't jerk off dudes. Just one dude. Pete. He had some stupid exception made in his head for the younger comedian that seemed to cross every and any boundary he tried to set.

So yeah, they fool around. They kiss, they bite eachother, hump, stuff hands down one another's jeans just for laughs, sometimes they even cuddle, but not in an after sex kind of way, just a, move over your couch isn't big enough for me and it's pointless to watch a movie together in the guest room kind of way. It's weird, but not? Colson can't ever seem to put too much thought into whatever he and Pete have going on before he gets distracted or develops a headache.

They're just friends. He thinks.

But. Then again, that doesn't explain how they've ended up here in the comedians bed again. Pete's mouth warm and wet against his own. Kissing him in all the ways he feels like he kisses girls, stealing away his breath and sending a warm tickle down his body all the way to the tips of his toes. It's so different from the usual leading position he finds himself taking in every other hook up that Colson can't help but find himself carried away by it. He would probably be content to lay back and let Pete kiss and fondle him for hours if the brunette didn't always find some stupid joke he had to make and interrupt the mood.

So far tonight they're off to a good start though, maybe a bit too good of one with how his jeans are already down around his ankles and his cock is slick between Pete's tight fist. 

Colson can barely remember what stupid creepy unsolved case files episode they'd been watching on the TV before he jokingly asked Pete to distract him from his paranoid thoughts. Rarely did weed and suspicious murders weigh lightly on Colson's head. He'd spent a whole week after humoring one of Pete's marathons of the show utterly convinced his stylist was out to secretly kill him. People are just so unpredictable its scary.

Like Pete. His mouth might be up pressing against his one second, and down sucking and biting on his tatted nipple the next. It's jarring how random his best friends actions seem sometimes. Like, just when Colson thinks he has Pete's rhythm figured out the comedian senses it and decides to switch things up on him again.

Last week Pete had called Colson weird for curiously flicking his tongue over one of the other man's hard nubs. Outright laughing at his attempt for foreplay and spinning some joke about breastfeeding and asking Colson to call him mommy until the rapper had abandoned the idea altogether. 

Yet here the little hypocrite was, absolutely moaning into his chest while he did the same thing. Free hand stuffed down his own sweats where he's crowded himself between Colson's legs.

It shouldn't be hot, Colson wants to give the same incredulous laugh at his best friends actions and tease him just the same but his throat feels tight and his body electric at the attention. Like Pete knows some secret trick he hasn't yet deciphered that swaps the nerves in your tits and your dick around to drive you wild.

Instead he just moans. Head tipping back and lips parting for a "Fuck- Petey-" before he carts his fingers through soft short brown hair. Maybe it's just the combo of jacking off alongside it, or his pain kink coming back to bite him in the ass. He can't say, but Pete's teeth gnawing softly at his nipple makes his dick squirt just a little more precum with every jerk.

He feels like he might be close. Hips kicking up softly from the mattress when Pete's mouth travels in hungry kisses across his chest to suck at and nibble on the other. 

It's weird. Pushing invisible boundaries yet again but Colson doesn't want him to stop. 

He's hardly participating at all too, one arm thrown above his head to grab at the head board and help arch his back, while the other is still glued to the back of Pete's head like it has been since they first kissed. Usually their flings are two sided, fists racing in their jerks to make the other come first, not self indulgent like tonight where he's hardly touched Pete's dick at all outside of a few over the clothes gropes.

It's got that question nagging at the back of Colson's mind again. Why they're doing this? What he's getting out of opening himself up so vulnerably to his best friend's traveling hands and wandering mouth?

The invasive thoughts are so distracting for a moment that Colson doesn't even realize Pete's traveled souther until he has the electric shock of wet lips sealing around the tip of his dick. Eyes bursting open and heart racing because Pete's kissing him somewhere new. His best friend's fucking taking his dick into his hot warm mouth for the first time.

And holy fuck does he love it.

"F-fuck-" Colson feels like a teenager getting his first blowie again with how his hips instantly jerk up and his fingers tighten around hair. 

Fuck fuck fuck, Pete is swallowing his dick down too fast for him to watch. He knows the comedian has a big mouth but christ, it can't be that deep can it? There's no way Pete has sucked dick before and not told him, they share everything, and until this moment, he thought the disinterest in tasting dick was a big one of those things.

But apparently not, because the comedian is slurping obscenely and sucking all over the tip and length of his dick like a lollipop offered to a man starved. It's so attentive that Colson doesn't even mind the few moments where he cock clumsily slips out of the other's mouth and bumps against a scratchy cheek or blunt teeth. It's amazing.

Colson definitely knows he must be close now. His neck feels stuck in a permanent arch back, face burying itself in the croon of his arm while he moans and curses, and pleas for Pete to not stop.

Less than delicate fingers fondle his balls and spit slips down between his legs but Colson only loves it all more. He wants to fuck his best friends face. Stuff Pete's head down hard and bury his cock down the comedians throat to paint the next couple jokes that come out of his mouth white. He tries to push though and finds a strong resistance, Pete's immediate gag and flinch back easily overpowering his weak shove.

Then the hot mouth is gone. Ripping an embarrassing whimper from the rapper's lips before he can catch it. The quick thrust up of his hips and stretch of his toes to try and kick his way back up into Pete's mouth ignored.

Colson's just about to whine and curse, and bitch at Pete for being such a fucking stupid tease when that evil mouth descends yet again. This time skating down over the long vein stretching the length of his dick to go even lower. Tongue and teeth finding his balls to offer attention there instead. 

Now his curse is more breathy, and his hips arching up higher. Because holy fucking shit Pete is sucking and tugging on his balls like an expert, fist back around the base of his dick to pick up where it left off. 

"God, Pete- Pete-" Colson's own hand has abandoned soft hair to clumsily grab at his own thigh. Fingers slipping and struggling to find purchase on sweat slick skin so that he can help hike his legs up a little higher to get Pete going lower. Every inch of his sack begging for the same attention that's fluttering across it. It takes a few swift kicks to free his one foot from his jeans but when he does it only lets his legs spread open wider. Every part of him arching and opening itself up for Pete to see with no flash of the usual shame he feels from even stripping his pants off all the way around the comedian.

He just needs more. He's so so close and Pete's tasting him like someone starved.

His dick is leaking, precum streaming out in more consistent spurts and oversensitivity just starting to tingle at the tip with every twist of Pete's wrist. Colson knows he's going to come, his neck is twisted and his face pressed hard against the hard wood of the headboard from all of his stretching and kicking to guide Pete lower and it should hurt but he can barely feel any of those aches over the chills he gets when both of Pete's hands suddenly grab him by the thighs and yank him down a little. Uncharacteristically rough in their manhandling until Colson is blinking blearily up at the bland ceiling and trembling because his ass is leaving the bed. Pete's nose bumping against his balls and tongue swiping over his taint.

The noise that bursts from between his parted lips doesn't even sound human at this point. Something between a wheeze and a moan while the room spins and his best friends tongue abruptly drags flat over his asshole to top off the absurdity of the whole night.

Colson's fingers are still cutting sharp into the back of his thigh though, grip only tightening as his body moves on its own to pull his knee closer to his chest. The bump of Pete's fingers near his own tingly in every good way.

There's no backing out now, he's losing his mind in the rush of everything, all thought flying out the window to make room for a mantra of, fuck, please, please, Petey, please- until there's another lap tongue against his hole and a fist curling back around his neglected dick.

He only lasts another few jerks. Pete's mouth sucking and humming around the rim of his asshole while he paints his own chest. Tongue out in a long moan and eyes rolled back into his head until he sees stars. It's so good. Colson can feel he body rocking and twitching with every spurt of cum, and Pete's tongue isn't slowing either. Pressing and licking until it has wiggled its way inside his ass and the moans coming from his mouth wind their way down into whimpers from overstimulation. 

Colson's legs drop fast, snapping down from his grip like his fingers are a broke rubber band to catch on Pete's shoulder. Over the blood rushing in his ears he can hear Pete moaning, fuck, he can feel it against his skin. It's desperate, so much that eventually the comedian isn't even licking or tongueing him anymore, just mumbling and bumping his mouth between the rapper's cheeks in escalating fervor.

Colson's brain is still too busy rebooting for him to properly appreciate how fucking hot it sounds. He can hear the wet slap of Pete's dick too, skin clapping against skin with what he can only guess is lightning jerks of fist.

"Fuuuuck-" Pete's finally the one cursing, his whole body jerking up from where he's been burying his face between Colsons legs to scramble up onto his knees. Sweats shoved down around his thighs, dick all shiny and almost purple while he moans and jerks it off in front of him. The leg Colson had dropped down on Pete's shoulder half rising with him, caught before it can slip by the comedian extra hand to keep it high and his back arched before the man comes. Hot spurts burning Colson's skin everywhere it lands between them. Especially across his own balls and inner thighs, Pete not stopping until he's half stumbling forward to crush the blonde and cum is peppering thick drops against Colson's twitching hole too. His groan long and deep while he watches.

The visual alone is enough to make the rapper's spent dick twitch. Heart beat quickening and face burning hotter in embarrassment over how blissed out his best friends expression has become once their eyes finally meet.

Pete's going to kiss him. He can see it clear as day in those honey brown eyes and that wet pout of lips. 

He just narrowly avoids it with a fast slap of hand across the comedians mouth after Pete drops forward. His own knuckles bumping hard against his teeth with how close of call it is, and Pete's nose poking softly at his cheek.

"Fuck dude-" Colson still feels shaky as he speaks. Head twisting sideways away from Pete's repeated bump and weak smooch against his palm before he continues. "No way, fuck, man, your tongue was just in my ass-" Even saying the word out loud burns Colson's ears and makes his thighs tremble a little.  "Gross, gross, gross dude!"

"Mm, sowwy-" Pete's mouth is still pressing with its kisses, his words half mumbled and slurred by the flat press of Colson's hand that refuses to move.

"Fuck." The heat of the moment finally fading Colson can't help but find himself cursing again and again. "Fucking fuck-" a hysterical laugh is bubbling up his throat and with it a couple dozen more that burst free with a shake of his shoulders and a light shove at Pete's face so he can rub his hand over his face instead. "You fucking licked my ass-"

"I know-" Pete sounds downright apologetic where he buries his face against one sweaty tatted shoulder but Colson can only shake harder. More and more laughter coming until he's almost in tears repeating it yet again.

"You ate my fucking ass Pete!" It's so funny he almost can't breathe. Boundaries and embarrassment aside the reality of the situation finally settling in just has Colson cackling in disbelief. "Oh my god dude-"

"I- I got caught up in the moment-" Pete's face is redder than he's ever seen it when Colson peeks out from behind his hand, and if he could laugh harder he would. But he can't so instead he smiles. He smiles as wide and as big as he can until his cheeks hurt up at his ashamed best friend.

"And you called me a weirdo for licking your nipple dude?"

He is never letting Pete live this down. 

[votederpycausemufins]

for the longest time my brain just did not want to write. but then two scenes came to mind and bam, chapter!

and as always

@petrichormeraki​

Wilbur showed up like he was arriving at a party. In a sense he was since Dream was taken down and he was going to see Tommy again. Dream may have revived him, but even that wasn’t going to convince Wil to help the tyrant. When he reached Philza and Techno, he was surprised to see no sign of Tommy. “So, where is he?”

“Tommy? He’s showing off his base to Tubbo.” Grian spoke up, making Wilbur notice him. His parrot wings were folded tightly so they couldn’t be seen, which was perfect for him. "Hey, you got something in your hair.”

Wilbur patted his head. “What, my hat?”

Grian shook his head and put a blue feather there. “It’s right there.”

“I can feel you put something there.” Wilbur pulled the feather out. “Don’t need you-” He stopped talking once he actually looked at the feather.

“Hey look, I’ve got one too.” Techno said pointing at the yellow feather placed behind his ear.

“No.” Wilbur sounded dumbfounded and looked back at Grian, who now had a red feather stuck in his own hair.

“Alright, let’s go see Tommy.” Grian spoke nonchalantly before Wilbur grabbed him.

“Oh no you don’t! You don’t just get to drop that bombshell on us and walk away!”

Grian laughed. “What, missed me?”

“Yes! Where the fuck were you?”

“Oh, here and there. How are you doing being alive again.”

“Less violent than I was before dying I suppose.”

“Good! But I’m still not letting you near Tommy.” When Wilbur tried to say something, Grian stopped him. “Nope, you can’t argue. I’m oldest now.”

“What the fuck to you mean, I’m a minute older than you bird boy.”

“Not anymore, I’m now in my thirties.”

“Wh- How?!”

Philza put a hand on Wilbur’s shoulder. “We can talk more when we meet back up with Tommy.”

“Yeah, we can visit his base hermit cribs style. I’ll grab my backup elytra and some rockets!” Grian ducked into a shop to use their ender chest. “Oh yeah, are you guys okay with rockets? Because Tommy told me Tubbo doesn’t like them. They won’t explode or anything, they’re just to help you with flying. Obviously dad and I won’t need them, but uh, you guys don’t have wings.”

“I’ll take them.” Wilbur said. Techno was less eager, but did also accept the elytra.

As Grian was about to take off with his family, Scar cleared his throat to get their attention. “Now Grian, while I am glad that you have found the family you lost, I am still very serious about that paperwork. I have different forms for if they’re planning to stay permanently or if they’re just going to visit often. I can send the paperwork to your mansion if you want though if you just want to come to town hall right now, we can do it there.”

“Scar, right now I want to talk with my family and figure out what we’re doing. We can’t really sign paperwork if we don’t know which paperwork to sign, right?”

Scar nodded in agreement. “Alright, I’ll send it to the mansion then. Also about the other people visiting.”

Grian flapped his wings to quickly get into the air. “Sorry Scar too far away can’t hear you byeeeee!”

On the ground, Phil sighed, though he was smiling. “I guess this means we better start flying. Let’s get up higher for an easier take off.”

Though it took an attempt or two, the avian lineage seemed to help Techno and Wilbur get the hang of using elytra extremely fast. Though in the air, Grian hadn’t flown too far and the others easily caught up with him. He guided them to the south west towards where Tommy’s base was. 

As it came into view, Grian couldn’t help but laugh as he heard a gasp from behind. They landed in front of the arch acting as a doorway on the ground floor to find Tommy leaning against it. “Took long enough dickheads.”

Grian was about to jokingly scold Tommy when Wilbur went to hug and or lovingly bully his younger brother. Tommy waved his arms in an attempt to get Wil to stop, but he kept running towards Tommy. Just before he could reach the blond, he was tackled to the ground from the side by Grian.

“Grian! I was joking! It was going to be fine!” Tommy complained, helping to pull the avian off Wilbur. “You don’t have to keep mothering me! Stress does that plenty!”

“It’s not my fault I wore the chicken mask that long.”

“That is entirely your fault! And wearing a mask that long doesn’t change anything.”

Tommy and Grian continued to playfully argue until Philza caught their attention. “Oh right, forgot we had meetings to get to. Hey Tommy, which floor do you think is best for talking about all this.”

Tommy put a hand on his chin. “Hmmm, how about the sixth floor? I mean, that one is based on the smp.”

“Sounds great!” Grian said before flying up there, leaving the others behind.

“Hey! No fair!” Tommy shouted up. “Some of us have to use rockets to fly! Ugh fine we’re taking the bubble stream.”

Entering the tower, the first floor was just completely made of cobble. It was his favorite block and all, so if he was going to mainly use the first floor, that was the design he wanted. There were also a number of chests placed around to the point that it had become a bit of a chest monster. Wilbur couldn’t help but be curious and opened one chest, eyes widening at the contents. “This is filled with diamond tools and armor! You’re just leaving it here?”

Tommy looked over to what Wil was referring to. “What? Oh, that’s from endbusting. It’s all cursed gear. You should have seen the time I caught Joe afk and gave him a set of binding diamond armor. I’m not sure how he didn’t notice right away, but the moment I mentioned I liked his armor, he jumped in the nearest lava pool.”

“Really? Other than the curses, this seems like it’s pretty good?”

“Not really. No one is really stealing from each other so everyone’s got great gear. Besides, part of the prank was giving Joe diamond gear. He apparently said he wasn’t going to use diamonds this world and burns them when he gets them.”

“He just burns diamonds?!”

“Yeah.” Tommy shrugged, then walked over to one of many bubble columns. “Here, this one goes to the sixth floor. You guys go first. I want to make sure you go in it and not the others. I’ll show off my shit hermitcribs style later.”

When they got off the bubble elevator, it was something that was recognized immediately. The floor was made of grass and one wall was missing and looking right at the now setting sun. In the middle of the room was a simple bench and a jukebox.

“Your bench.” Wilbur spoke up, making Tommy nod.

“Yeah. There’s also one in the shopping district. That’s for more public stuff. I’ll just be hanging on the bench and other hermits can show up to talk about shit. This one’s for more private stuff like this.”

“Or for letting me cuddle with you.” Grian poked his head up from the other side of the bench. 

Tommy’s face turned a shade of red. “We do not cuddle!”

“Then what do you call what we do when you’ve had a long day and need me to come over so you can use my wings as a blanket.”

“Hanging out. Cuddling makes it sound weird.” Tommy crossed his arms.

Grian just tackled Tommy and wrapped him in his wings. “You’re not allowed out until you admit it!”

“Never bird bitch!”

He rubbed the feathers against Tommy’s face. “Say iiit!” Tommy just plucked a feather out making Grian pull back. “Ow! You didn’t have to do that!”

“I thought you wanted us to talk as a family or some shit.”

Grian rolled his eyes, but did nod. “Yeah, you’re right.” And then he sat down on the ground across from the bench. The others found their own places to sit and just sat there in silence for a few moments before Wilbur started the conversation.

“So, you changed your name then huh? Everyone’s calling you Grian.”

Grian nodded. “Yeah, I started using it back when I was in the orphanage and legally changed it when I was eighteen. Though it took a while with the criminal record.”

“I’m sorry, your what?” Philza asked sternly, but Grian just shrugged.

“Yeah I sort of murdered some people. I probably could have found a way around it, but at the time, it was the best answer I had. And I didn’t really have a good support system. I mean, I had friends, but how are you supposed to tell them you have voices in your head telling you what to do when they’re already not the best people themselves.”

Philza rubbed his forehead. “How bad?”

“Well…”

“No, nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

“So, you’re a Watcher?” Techno spoke up in a monotone voice.

Grian used enough of his power to make a third eye appear for a second before making it disappear again. “Yeah, whatever took me from you guys happened again and dropped me off in a world that was like, so many years in the past. I actually got dropped there with a lot of people and the Watchers sort of played around with us. Nothing as bad as what Dream seemed to be doing, just puzzles and cryptic clues and portals everywhere to push us forward in time when they saw fit. Eventually they convinced me to join them.”

“Just like that?” Techno raised an eyebrow.

“Nah, I was a real pain in their side for loads of time before they finally asked me to join. I’m pretty sure it was because it was because that was the one way to get me to stop messing around.” Grian laughed at his own joke before looking sadly at the floor. “First thing I did was start looking for you guys. I assumed you would still be in the castle or somewhere nearby, but the place was abandoned. And it’s harder to find someone when you don’t know what world they’re in.”

Philza started to reach for Grian, but the younger avian’s wings started to puff up in agitation. “You know, I don’t know if I should be happy that I found you or upset. I could have never figured out where you guys were unless I got lucky peering into worlds. Only reason I found out was because Tommy came here. And he only came here because he ended up in a dangerous world with no family helping him. And you nearly took him back there.”

Tommy put a hand on one of Grian’s wings, making him puff up even more. “Hey, calm down Big G. You made sure they couldn’t do that. And if they do try, just knock some sense into them.”

Grian calmed down, though there was still tension in the room and no one spoke. The first thing that broke the silence was a yell from above them. “Tommy! How do you get down? I don’t have a water bucket on me!”

Tommy jumped up from where he was sitting. “Oh shit! I’ll be right there Tubbo!” And Tommy jumped out the window. Grian waited a moment before asking the others to look behind them, which they did just in time for all of them to see Tommy making a face at them all as he went up the bubble stream. A few moments later, Tubbo was going down a different bubble elevator and then Tommy glided in through the window. “Sorry, I keep the down one closed off so the bees don’t wander their way into it on a suicide mission. Tubbo couldn’t find it and obviously he’s not flying around.”

“Can you actually ask him to come up here? I want to say something that involves him.”

“Got it.” Tommy leaned out the window. “Hey Tubbo! Come back up here! Use the one with green glass!”

A moment later, Tubbo exited onto the floor. Tommy pushed Wilbur off the bench to make room for Tubbo to sit. “Hey! How are you so strong!”

Tommy gestured at the room around them. “I mean, I got help from some of the hermits for the interior, but the exterior was all me. I mined tons of shit looking for diamonds and I used it for here. I mean, I also got some help with the flag on top, but otherwise, all seventeen floors were built by me.”

“Seventeen floors?!”

“I know, they’re all as tall as this one so it’s small as fuck. Only big one is the top since I didn't waste an extra ceiling with the roof there.”

“You should do what Tango did last season and add a dragon or two.”

“Nah, might just start making a castle to pair up with it.”

“Tommy! What the fuck!” Tubbo said suddenly. “How did you get so good?!”

“It’s just sort of how we do stuff here on Hermitcraft.” Grian answered. “You were at Iskall’s tree right? That’s his base. He got us to help collect the leaves, but he’s been placing it all.” Tubbo just looked like his head was about to explode. “Anyway, I wanted Tommy to call you here because I didn’t get the chance to tell you. You’re the admin of the smp now.”

“I’m what?!”

“I figured after all I’ve heard about you from Tommy, you would be safe to turn into the admin. Obviously it can be moved to someone else, but you were the first choice.”

“I can’t be the admin! What if I end up like Dream?! I already wasn’t the best at being president! What if I screw up and they put me in pandora’s vault too!”

Tommy hugged Tubbo. “You were a great president, you just had to deal with bad people. And they’re not going to put you in some stupid fucking vault for a mistake.”

“And if they do, we call in Mumbo. Speaking of him, I should call him over.” Grian pulled out his communicator and hit the call button for Mumbo, putting it on speaker for the fun of it. When the redstoner answered, Grian spoke in a dramatic and joking tone into the microphone. “Mumbo. Babe. Light of my life. Father of our children.-”

Though Grian sounded like he was going to continue, a tired sounding Mumbo came through to stop him. “What do you need Grian?”

“We’re at Tommy’s base. Can you come over and meet everyone?”

“I was already planning on finding you. I’m of course on Grian watching duty after that stunt you pulled. I would have already shown up but the redstone blocks finally needed replacing.”

“Remember to bring scaffolding. You know water and redstone don’t mix.”

“I’m well aware. Bye Grian.” And Mumbo hung up.

Grian and Tommy explained more of everything on Hermitcraft and answered more questions while they all waited for Mumbo. Finally there was the distinct noise of scaffolding being placed and they saw a tower appear in front of the window and then keep going up. From below, they could hear Mumbo talking to someone else he had brought along. “You don’t need that much. Grian said they’re only on the sixth floor.”

“But I want to see Tubbee! Tubbee Tubbee Tubbee!”

“You can see Tubbee later. C’mon, let’s see Grian first.”

After the talking stopped, up the scaffolding came what looked to be a small child. Behind them was someone a bit taller, but obviously still young, and last was a man in a black suit and a mustache.

“Dad!” The smallest one ran over and jumped at Grian. Wilbur looked between Grian and the kid.

“Wait, so that wasn’t a joke. You actually have kids?”

“Well you have Fundy. I have these two. Meet Grumbot and Jrumbot.” 

Wilbur opened his mouth again with a sly smirk. “Is he any good?” and then added in a wink.

When he realized what was being implied, Mumbo’s face turned a bright red and he tried talking but it was all flustered stuttering. Grian has a similar though not as pronounced reaction to the question. Jrumbot looked between his dads confused while Grumbot looked at Wilbur. “My brother and I were merely built and are powered by redstone. We have no organic parts. Our dads are not together and thus have not had se-”

“GRUMBOT!”

[kendrixtermina]

Appreciating the Range of Type 6, or, one stereotypical example, and three that aren’t.

I want to tell you about some type 6 ppl that I know in my personal life.

Exemplar #1: F. B.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 p or cp: largely phobic – lots of safety worries, outright authoritarian follower personality Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 613  - 6w5 1w2 3w2 (“The Taskmaster” or “The Middle Manager”) jungian: ISTJ / SLI-Te oldham: Conscientious & Aggressive Essence Type: Mars Temperament: Pure Choleric

What he’s like:

Not pleasant.

Every “strict conservative middle aged guy” stereotype in the book. Control freak, makes a mountain out of every molehill, sees the world as full of axe murderers, judgemental as fuck, horrible temper and yet completely impersonable, all his opinions are copypasted from right-wing news sites. When they say war is good he’s for war, and when they say war is bad he’ll be like “At least Trump did not start any more wars” without perceiving a contradiction. Despite this, he believes is very hot, principled and funny. He is none of these things. He puts people down nonstop. My knowledge of neurochemistry tells me that he must have emotions somewhere or he couldn’t function, but I ain’t ever seen a single one of those emotions. They’re all for his job and a few trusted mentor figures. And his mom. At least he loved her.

If you say anything he doesn’t like, he “throws the sofa out the window” as his wife once put it.

How he’s a Type 6:

Well, he’s pretty much every negative stereotype in a nutshell… other than distrusting his partner. But that might be cause hes sx blind, or cause the wife is big on monogamy & wouldn’t ever cheat.

The one positive trait of 6 that he has is that he does his research. Before moving anywhere he googles the crime rates and if you need a doctor he might find you the best one. But even that can be overriden by ideology (hydroxychloroquine!). And if you don’t take his exact advice, there goes the sofa out the window again…

And I guess the work ethic from all 3 parts of the trifix really comes through – he hasn’t had a single bad grade in his life and always keeps collecting new certifications, and will make sure you hear about it...

Exemplar #2: I.

Complete Stats

Wing: 5 P or cp: pretty much an even mix of phobic and counterphobic Instinct: sp/soc Trifix: 614 - 6w5 1w2 4w3 (Would prolly call herself “The Big Pain” rather than “The Philosopher” ^^°) jungian: INTJ / ILI-Ni oldham: Serious & Conscientious Essence Type: Saturn Temperament: Chlor-Mel

What she’s like:

I’d describe her as serious, mature, discerning, focused and passionate about her friendships, if perhaps somewhat forceful at times, with a dry, sarcastic sense of humor.

Comes across like someone who knows what she’s talking about, with well-articulated points.

Often the Responsible Sibling, Designated Sanity Checker or Bullshit Detector.

Prefers to plan everything in advance in typical Ni dom fashion, even amusement part trips. Gets somewhat anxious without a future plan or shedule.

Often mistaken for a whole lot more sociable and confident that she really feels inside. (even I kinda bought it and got her whole darn trifix wrong on my first typing attempt, though that was when I was new to typology) She can act the boss act temporarily to get the situation over with, but she actually hates making decisions.

She does however have the occasional cute/pure moment where that lower function block comes out.

How she’s a Type 6:

She has saved our family from many a terrible restaurant by making sure to check the reviews. The preparing for all possible dangers is very 6, the acting tough outwardly when youre inwardly anxious, the intellectual problem solving & some tendency towards organization/responsibility/ “logistic” intelligence.

One online test she took gave her 5w6 instead of 6w5 but that’s probably just the ITxx-ness leaking in. I remember this one time we were discussing this artsy-fartsy theater play to which we’d had fascinatingly different reactions, and at one point I half-jokingly said something like “But does anyone ever really feel connected to others, or is that a myth?” to which she wrote, “[Name], what the fuck? Yes I do.” and then immediately deleted it. That’s more of a 6 reaction innit?

Nonetheless the wing does feature in significantly – for example she got very well informed about a lot of topics because she researched them to assuage a random survival-related fear, like, “How to make sure I have enough retirement money”

Exemplar #3: M.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 p or cp: largely phobic Instinct: sp/sx Trifix: 692 - 6w7 9w1 2w1 (Fortunately very much a “Good Samaritan” rather than “The Stockholm”) jungian: ISFP / SEI-Fi oldham: Sensitive & Devoted Essence Type: Lunar-Venus Temperament: Pure Supine

What she’s like:

Precious! Sweet, nice, good listener, friendly, gives all the best gifts. But also perceptive and good at understanding people, eg. mediating to the parents when one of the younger sisters is having An Emotion™ or winning the trust of problem children.

Unlike I. Who has some soc that helps her keep track of a larger circle of friends despite her introversion, M. tends to enjoy the closeness with her family and have just a few very close friends. Excellent friend material all around! The sx and Se also come out in enjoying art forms involving the body like theatre or dance.

She can be a bit shy, conflict-avoidant and occasionally a lil bit panicky though.

As a small kid she used to be super duper shy but then a wise english teacher encouraged her to play a big role in a play, and since then she’s a lot more confident and doesn’t let ppl push her around without limit, though she’s still a quiet, helpful person. There you see the difference that a good teacher can make.

How she’s a Type 6:

For one thing she moves and emotes faster than a core 9 would, and she fits the body language – big eyes that move around a lot, stands a bit lopsided, talks in a shrill voice on the rare occasions where we exhaust her patience etc. As a xSFx and a w7 she shows mostly the “warm, friendly, likeable” side of type 6. She also has a very 6-ish tendency to very frequently ask people’s opinions & feedback before making decisions. (the other fixes probably add to this)

Alas, she also has a little bit of of the fear/insecurity.

Also she has a social/care job which might be seen as 6-ish desire to serve the community.

Exemplar #4: J.

Complete Stats

Wing: 7 P or cp: largely counterphobic Instinct: sx/soc ?? definitely not sp first. Trifix: 638 - 6w7 3w4 8w9(?) (Shall she be a “Justice Fighter” or a “Kyle”? Only time will tell.) jungian: ISTP / LSI-Se ?? Oldham: ? some Dramatic & Serious, perhaps ? Essence Type: Definitely Mercury Temperament: San-Mel

What she’s like:

The first adjective that usually comes to my mind is ‘cool’. Sassy, energetic & a little bit tough, but also affectionate when she wants to be. (though in admiring way rather than a mushy one)

She says the coolest things, has a certain sly sort of cleverness, and an astonishly good poker face. Bit of an occasional prankster. Hilarious. Knows all sort of cool science facts. Avid gamer. 

Not especially popular or over the top sociable, but she gets sad if no one pays attention to her a while. Will act visibly moody where ppl can see sad or worried and can catastrophize a bit in such situations.

How she’s a Type 6:

I first though we might be getting an ExxP type 7 since she was a pretty energetic child, but once puberty hit and independent thought manifested, she turned out a whole lot too reactive and ‘edgy’ for this, and more on the ‘moderate introvert’ side of things.

Since then the sisterly dynamic has been like one fluffy golden dog and 3 hissing black cats. Hissing Cats #1 and #2 are very proud of her, but cat #1 was forced to conclude that she’s probably not a positive outlook type.

Out of all the reactive types 6 fits best because she does broadcast group identity (like wearing merchandise of her favorite media and wearing buttons in solidarity with ppl she likes.) & has a big case of Big Sibling worship for M, I, and someone else who isn’t on this list due to being a 9. (a 4 or 8 might like their older siblings but probably wouldn’t constantly stress the admiration.), but she can also show lasting, pouty displeasure with authority figures who have slighted her. (Like that one time I went too far in teasing her...)

I’m just assuming the 8 fix because that tends to make 6s more bold, louder & more shameless.

Basically she is the “punk teen” type of 6. She can be a bit dramatic & over-the top but still come to her family on advice (even advice on pranks!) in ways that xSTPs of other enneagrams prolly wouldn’t.

She also tends to use self-deprecating humor in tough situations and deflects compliments to present herself as ‘ordinary’.

...

This may sound like I’m really getting down on my first example (I won’t pretend that I’m not) but the point in bringing him up is that the reason he’s like this is: He was subject to really bad parenting that put a lot of fear into him, there was no good parenting to teach him broader coping strategies, he lived in a crappy environment that crushed his dreams, in a sense ‘confirming’ those fears and making him double down, resulting in a person who is just always rigidly following the same predictable pattern or jumping from one automatic reaction to the next with very little pausing and thinking. That goes for the other types too: A ‘stereotypical’ person is a desperate person ruled by fear, who cant stop or soften up even for an instant cause they constantly feel this fire of threat under their arse.

A lot of descriptions say that 6s ‘Follow authority’ but most would balk at the notion – ‘I do the research!’ they might argue ‘I don’t just trust anyone’ or ‘I’m actually a rebel’. There is of course such a thing as denial  that’s more like the extreme case.

But with a more average, functional 6 it’s not so much ‘obedience’ as that they just like to bounce their ideas off of others to get feedback, or that they feature in other’s viewpoints. So you might get someone who can naturally use feedback (something other ppl may have to learn first) or who is very considerate of others (which others might have to consciously remind themselves to do.)

Those are sometimes pretty good traits actually.

On the other hand this is probably part of what makes decisions hard cause they consider all these possible scenarios of how things might displease or cause harm to everyone involved.

Being able to naturally snap into Action Mode under stress looks a bit enviable from the outside, but I. assures me that it’s actually super stressful & exhausting, even for someone who doesn’t get to a point of just being unreasonably aggro at you.

Though even an extreme case like F.B. would probably claim that he ‘did the research’ even as he’s 1:1 quoting the Pope at you, and then saying that you ‘have to be respectful’ even if you don’t even believe in Christianity. Hence why you get a lot of authoritarians talking about “disrespect”. You didn’t “fail to obey”, you “disrespected the flag” or  “hurt the feelings of the Chinese people”. Because they’re still trying or inwardly thinking that they’re doing the consideritation & considering other’s PoV thing when they’ve long since crossed from respect and consideration into mindless obedience, all while still thinking that they’re very sceptical and discerning cause after all they really distrust the other political party or whatever.  

In a way you get this obsession with ‘mind control’ cause they’re not unaware of & very much looking to guard the blind spot. They’re adults trying to do adult things.

For example, if I voiced an opinion to F. B. which he didn’t like, his reaction was often to ask “who told you that”

That’s just how he seems to think opinions work, somebody tells them to you.

Makes one wonder how he thinks new opinions start.

Yeah - Nobody told me that. I concocted it myself in some corner of my head. And in the interest of objectivity, I should stress that you can also end talking out of your ass that way, if you’re not basing it on enough outside data. Making up new shit has more of a quadratic than a linear learning curve – at least with copying you get something semi-useful right away. In making up your own you might be really off a long time before you stumble on something useful.

Also, I was young at the time and it’s not wholly unreasobale to think that an inexperienced person might be duped. I reacted really badly in part cause he hit my own ego buttons cause I was of course proud of this epiphany that I had concocted by myself, and now he says (or so I perceived it, being sensitive to accusations of incompetence) that I’m too dumb to form an opinion, so of course I launched into full Obnoxious Reddit Dude Mode.

In I. It manifests more on a reasonable useful level like “Oh wait, should [young cousin] be on TikTok? I don’t want him to get sucked into some cultish BS.” which is at least something the parents should have on the radar/ warn him about even if they do let him use TikTok, because for all that it is vital for him to get his experience with independent socializing & experimentig with sel-presentation, people do sometimes get suckered into cults or goaded into unsafe tests of courage.

And in a sense… maybe they overamphasize it but to some extent they’re also simply consciously aware/ mindful of it. The rest of us are not immune to propaganda after all, solong as it’s presented in a way pleasing to our egos. Any type structure can become a ‘hook’ if you’re not careful.

[topazy]

Silent bloom

Pairing: Finn Collins/reader

Warnings: Mentions of smut, suicide.

Chapter: 1.04

You wake up to the sound of nearby voices chattering.

The sudden feeling of a hand brushing strands of hair out of your voice caused you to open your eyes.

Finn smiled down at you, "hey."

"Hi." You cleared your throat before sitting up. "What’s going on?"

"Take it easy, Daze," Finn said, frowning. You didn’t listen and felt a sharp pain from sitting upright. "I told you to take it easy."

"Because you’re always right?" You snapped. Letting out a deep sigh, you noticed Finn was still smiling. "Sorry... I’m just surprised to be waking up."

Finn moved the chair he was sitting in closer to you. "Do you remember what happened?" He asked, giving you a sympathetic look.

"Wells," you sobbed. "Charlotte... killed him. I tried to save him, but I couldn’t. She asked me not to tell anyone... Then everything went fussy. I’m guessing Charlotte got caught?" Finn nodded. "Good. She deserved to be punished."

"Bellamy found you outside. He went looking for you after he noticed you had never returned to camp." The information Finn shared took you aback. You didn’t think Bellamy would have noticed? Or cared. "I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened since we arrived down here. I have not been a great friend."

"It’s fine, I’ve been a little bratty. And for the record, I didn’t sleep with Murphy." You watched Finn’s face turn white. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"While you were out, a few things transpired. Murphy was accused of murdering Wells and trying to kill you."

"What?" Sure, you had pissed Murphy off when you kicked him down the ladder, but you didn’t think he would have physically hurt you. "What happened?"

"Some others thought we should punish him for his crimes and decided to float him."

You could feel the tears building up. This wasn’t right, none of it was right. "But you stopped them? Clarke and Bellamy run this place. They wouldn’t have let that happen."

“Bellamy... he’s the one that kicked the crate out from underneath Murphy. We cut him down and Charlotte confessed to her crime, then Murphy tried to hunt her down. He held a knife to Clarke’s throat, so Charlotte jumped off a cliff. She killed herself, so we all stopped fighting."

"Or from guilt." You frowned, not having any sympathy for the young girl. "I know she was just a kid, but what she did was wrong. Anyway, what happened to Murphy? What rock has he crawled under?"

Finn’s brown eyes bore into yours. "We banished him. Bellamy almost beat him to death, so Clarke banished him as an alternative."

"Oh, I see." You didn’t like the way his face seemed to light up when he spoke about the blonde. Sure, she likely saved your life, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be jealous.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked in a low voice.

"Yeah, anything." You answered while letting him caress your face with his hand.

"What happened to your eye?"

You pulled away from him. "Anything but that, I don’t want to talk about it. Ever.”

Finn opened his mouth to say something, but paused when Octavia entered the room.

"Beat it, spacewalker," Octavia said playfully. "I haven’t spoken to my only friend in days."

"Hey!" Jasper protested, entering the room behind her.

"Only girlfriend, there’s a difference!" The younger Blake said defensively.

You stopped paying attention to your friends, jokingly arguing as you stared at Finn. The more you looked, the more tired and deflated he looked. Your former best friend excused himself and left.

—

An hour later, it was just Octavia who was sitting by your side. Monty had come by to say hello, then went back to trying to contact the ark, and Jasper left when his stomach rumbled.

"I honestly can’t believe how much I’ve missed. I’m almost resentful." You laughed.

Octavia shoved your elbow with hers. "I’m jealous of how much sleep you got. But seriously, don’t ever get stabbed again. You made me worried."

You smiled, "I’ll try."

Octavia’s smile softened, "What went on with Finn?"

"Nothing." You shrugged at the skeptical look she was giving you. "He filled me in on what happened, but that was it.

"Did you guys date or something on the Ark? Because he screams clingy boyfriend."

You pout. "No, we never dated. We were good friends... but that stopped when he got arrested. And what do you mean by clingy?"

Octavia rolled her eyes. "He refused to leave, apart from the whole Murphy Charlotte thing. He listened to some dumb thing Clarke said about infection and wouldn’t let anyone get to close to you. Hell, he kept kicking Bell out."

Bellamy came to visit you? "I woke up to Finn brushing my hair out of my face."

Your comment caused Octavia to let out a loud laugh. You couldn’t help but join in. You laughed until it physically hurt your stomach. causing Clarke to come in and scorn you both in case the vibrations burst your stitches.

—

"You should go back to camp, it isn’t safe out here."

You glared at him. "I am aware of that Finn, but somebody needs to keep you out of trouble."

Scoffing, he attempted to storm away, but you stepped in front of him. You followed Finn into a bunker after he left the camp. With your stomach still in pain, you were slower than him. When you arrived at the bunker, you found Finn trashing it.

"Move."

"No. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. If you go out there, the Grounders will find you and kill you!" You yelled in frustration.

Finn looked down at you, "I didn’t think you’d care if I died."

"What?" You asked hurt. "Of course I care, you stupid idiot! It’s you who stopped caring!"

Finn’s face was now a shade of red you’d never seen before. "What? I’ve always cared about you! I wouldn’t have sneaked out to be with you if I didn’t love you. I wouldn’t have shared my rations with you, I wouldn’t have covered for you, or missed you when you weren’t there if I didn’t care about you. Fuck Daze, all I wanted to do was be with you. We were best friends!"

"Then why did you choose her over me?"

"I didn’t." He answered in a softer voice.

"Yes, you did." You said as tears rolled down your face. "Finn, you got locked up for Raven."

Finn shook his head. "What was I supposed to do? Let her get floated? I would much rather be locked up for a few years than have Raven's death on me."

Oh. You didn’t realize Raven would have been floated? She never mentioned it on the ark. "I’m sorry, I understand you did it for someone you love. I was just angry I’d lost you, and I got jealous of how much you cared about her."

Finn pressed his forehead against your own. "I love you Daze, and for the record, I would have taken the blame for you. And I still do."

Finn pressed a soft kiss against your forehead, before kissing your nose. You looked up at him, lips parted slightly, knowing what you wanted. You wanted Finn to kiss you.

Cupping your cheeks, Finn leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. The feeling of electricity shot through your body. Finn reluctantly pulled back.

"I’m sorry, I should have asked first."

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him down to you. The kiss was rougher, and more intense. Your lips only parted, so you could both catch your breath.

Finn had a look of hunger in his eyes, like a lion about to pounce on his prey. If you went any further, it would change your already fragile relationship. Maybe he didn’t want this? You were about to ask Finn what he was thinking when he kissed you again.

You pulled at his hair, deepening the kiss as you pushed Finn’s jacket off before throwing it across the room. Following your lead, he started to undress you. Pulling away from him, so he could lift your top over your head. Finn suddenly froze when you stopped down to your bra.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, confused.

He reached his hand out and held the object sitting above your bra. "You still wear it?"

You placed your own finger against the necklace. It was a small Daisy. Finn had made it out of metal and put it on a chain. It was a present for your twelfth birthday. "Yeah, I’ve never stopped."

Now Finn looked teary-eyed. "I really thought you hated me."

"I could never hate you. You’re my best friend." You said before leaning forward and kissing him again.

You quickly shimmed out of your jeans and underwear, as Finn did the same. He kissed your neck as one of his hands toyed with your bare breast. The coldness of his skin against yours caused goosebumps to appear. His other hand moved down your stomach and hips, stopping at the most sensitive area.

Finn kissed you once more before leaning back. "Are you sure you want this? It’s okay if you don’t."

You smiled at him. "I do. I want you, Finn. All of you."

With that, Finn began rubbing his thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves, before inserting a finger. You let out a low moan as Finn started nipping and sucking at your neck. It would probably leave a mark, but you didn’t care. They would fade.

His lips brush against your ear. "Ready?"

You managed to moan out a ‘yes’ as Finn removed his fingers to line himself up. You gave him a reassuring nod. In one swift movement, he entered you.

At first, Finn was slow, then his thrust became faster as you found a rhythm. Moving his thumb across your sensitive area once more, you quickly found your release.

"Fuck." Finn’s movements began to become sloppier as he chased his own orgasm.

You hear Finn moaning your name as he comes, before rolling off you in a panting, swearing mess. He turned and looked at you, a smile spreading across his face, all of his earlier anger now gone. He pulls you closer, so your head is on his chest. "You are amazing, Daze."

"You’re not so bad yourself, Finnegan."

He chuckled at the nickname, his heart beating steadily against your ear. "I wish we could stay like this here."

You laughed at his comment. "We would drive each other crazy."

He squeezed you tighter. "I’m here. We will find something to keep us occupied."

You smiled at him. Feeling the tiredness taking over, you closed your eyes and fell asleep with Finn brushing your hair. Enjoying the rare moment of bliss.

Season one

[g-perla]

All right I need thoughts.

Last night I finished reading ACOMAF. I have been saving screenshots of certain quotes or sections that might come in handy for my larger analysis project. Most of these are about the Inner Circle dynamics, any scene with Nesta, and anything that mentions her.

Well, many things baffled me but I must share one, small, seemingly innocuous paragraph with you all:

ACOMAF, Ch-41

(I apologise for not being able to supply specific page numbers; I am reading EPUB versions of the books as I got rid of my personal copies two years ago in a fit of rage. That's a story for another day, however)

For context:

This is the chapter immediately preceding the trip to the Court of Nightmares. In this particular scene, Feyre learns the story of what Mor's family did to her after Eris said he no longer wanted her because she wasn't a virgin. As a reminder, her family nailed her to the ground at the border of the Autumn Court and left her there to die. Azriel found her and returned her to the Night Court. This scene has multiple purposes: insight into Mor's background and her dynamic with Azriel, insight into the culture of the Court of Nightmares meant to contrast it from the seemingly idyllic Inner Circle and Velaris and meant to make us understand why the aspect of Rhys that is cruel and unforgiving is necessary and justified. Additionally, it provides a comparison between the cruelty of Mor's biological family and Feyre's.

The last of these is of particular interest to me. It fits nicely into the book's theme of the found family as a structure of healing where attachment needs that were not met by a biological blood family are fulfilled (the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb). This is a wonderful theme because, for many, a found family is essential as it also allows for something that biological families tend to eclipse: the agency of each member. There is something moving and beautiful about a group of people coming together and freely making the choice of commiting to each other. This is a sharp contrast to the conventional understanding of a familial unit as one bound by blood and where each member, regardless of their wishes and circumstance, must be loyal and must serve the interests of the unit. What I can't understand is why Mor's family is even an equivalent comparison to Feyre's in Rhys's mind and that Feyre agrees with this equivalence. I guess it's the principle of it all? The assumption that I mentioned earlier about the implied duties of the biological family unit? I don't want to invalidate Feyre's trauma, because that home life was certainly dysfunctional, hostile, and led to severe self-esteem issues. But....mdfhhfjdkdkdd someone please explain.

Yes, I think we can all agree that the dynamic between the father, Nesta, Elain, and Feyre was and is a hot mess. It was a mess even when the mother was alive. Two neglectful, distant parents and post-wealth, a fractured and hostile sibling relationship. Yeah Nesta was a cruel mess, but how is Nesta's immature, unwarranted cruelty towards Feyre in any way equivalent to Mor's family assaulting her and attempting to murder her? I'm expected to empathise with Rhys in this moment through Feyre. I'm expected to understand his continuous anger and disgust towards Nesta via this realisation on Feyre's part. Instead, I am just utter confusion. Frankly, it makes Rhys look unreasonable because he yearns to be understood as a whole being, capable of great cruelty but also great love and sacrifice. The cruelty is just a necessary mask after all, right? No, the cruelty is a part of him that must be reconciled in the same way that Nesta's cruelty must be reconciled. Unfortunately, his rage makes it difficult for him to consider the possibility that Nesta might also hold this complexity. That she might also yearn to be considered as a multifaceted being and that she might also be full of self-loathing and pain. And this inability to entertain the complexity of these characters extends to readers as well.

There is a certain degree of irony in this set-up. We have a book where a central theme is basically "the masks we wear" and how no character can be taken at face value. And yet, the benefit of the doubt is applied unevenly both in the narrative and outside of it. This is really interesting to me. I'm not saying that you can't like some characters over others, or even that you can't absolutely despise certain characters, I certainly do. But I think it is a productive exercise to consider the complexities of characters and their dynamics, even those we do not like. A character need not be likable to be good or valuable. I think we often limit ourselves by conflating character likeability with character quality and significance.

I always jokingly say that SJM did not know what she was doing when she created Nesta. Maybe this is true, maybe it isn't. Regardless of SJM's intent, Nesta is a controversial character who deserves to exist. That characters in the narrative and that readers cannot give the same negative energy they give Nesta to Rhys or other messy male characters in particular, reveals something more profound that many before me have linked to sexism and misogyny. I think there is important truth in this argument and I will explore it with more detail at a later time, but I urge you to consider this as you read the books and even other books or movies that contain female characters like Nesta.

I would love to know other's thoughts about this small excerpt and anything else I mentioned in this post!

-G

[idy-ll-ique]

Dogs.

Pairing: Chris Evans x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Requested: Nope

Summary: Y/N and Chris meet at the garden when their dogs take a liking to each other. Can the same be said for Y/N and Chris?

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! I already posted this on my old account... which is gone (RIP) so I'm posting it again over here! Enjoy!

---

"Zeus! Zeus, honey, get back!" Y/N sighed as her cute little dog chased butterflies in the garden. She sat down on a bench, tired. Zeus would get to her soon. Zeus, if you didn't know, was a female dog. A bitch, if you will. She had just jokingly decided to name her that but Zeus liked it so much, she wouldn't answer to any other name. "Dodge! Dodger! Come back!"

Yes, celebrity sightings in this garden were a lot more common than you think. When someone sat next to her, Y/N looked at the person. Chris Evans sat next to her, drinking some water. When he noticed that his bottle was empty, he sighed. He was feeling extremely thirsty. Y/N noticed that and looked at her own water bottle which was untouched.

"Would you like some water?" she offered, holding it up.."Thank you so much!" He sent a grateful smile her way as he drank the water. After that, they sat in silence for a while. Chris stole a glance at her. "So, which one is yours?" he asked slowly. "The one playing with your dog," Y/N laughed. Chris looked at her. Y/N was smiling at the place where Zeus and Dodger were together chasing butterflies.

No, Chris, she's a stranger! he thought. But she gave you water! That's not called being a stranger, water is the most important component of your life, his conscience scolded him. "So, what's your name?" Chris asked the pretty lady sitting next to him. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N, delighted to meet you," she said, turning to give him a small smile.

The two dogs returned to their owners after successfully getting themselves tired by chasing insects.

"Dodger likes you." Dodger was happily barking as Y/N ruffled his hair. "Zeus likes you, it seems," Y/N chuckled when she saw Zeus snuggling into Chris' leg. The owners quickly tied their dogs on leash and stood up with their belongings. When they tried to take their dogs away from each other, the dogs whimpered.

"It's okay, Zeus, I'm sure we'll meet Dodger again soon," Y/N cooed at her dog. Then she looked at Chris. "Yes, of course, we will." He smiled at her. She grinned as Zeus dejectedly started following her. "Y/N wait, give me your number so we can make plans!" She turned around. They exchanged numbers and in the meantime, Zeus and Dodger exchanged goodbyes.

After that, Y/N and Chris parted ways. The reason Zeus and Dodger had bonded so much was that they were... they're dogs... male, female... figure it out. They were dogs, they didn't care about love. Breeding was more important to them, unlike humans.

After Y/N had reached home, she first kept all the stuff away and prepared food for Zeus. Zeus, meanwhile, was lying in front of the door with a sad face.

"Oh don't worry, you big baby, you'll meet Dodger soon enough," Y/N said, "Hopefully," was added under her breath. Zeus looked up. She whimpered and Y/N's heart went out to her dog. "Aw, it's okay, eat. You'll feel better," she chuckled, cuddling up to Zeus as Zeus ate.

"Dodger, cheer up, I can't see you like this," Chris sighed once he was home. Dodger, like Zeus, laid down in front of the door with a whine. Chris had the same idea as Y/N and prepared some food for Dodger. He kept his bowl in front of him and Dodger looked up. "That's my boy," Chris said fondly as Dodger started munching on the food. Both the dogs felt better after eating, but they still missed their best friend.

Chris, not bearing to see Dodger like that, called Y/N. Y/N was doing the laundry when her phone rang from the living room. Zeus barked. "Don't worry honey, it might be mom," Y/N chuckled, going to the living room to get her phone. When she saw Chris' name, she got confused. "Hi," she answered the call.

"Hey, I just wanted to ask, is Zeus doing okay?" His question didn't frighten her, nor startle her. "She wasn't but I gave her food, now she's fine. She still misses Dodger, though," Y/N chuckled.

"Good, I was just wondering if you'd come to the garden tomorrow, too," Chris asked nervously. "Of course, I take Zeus there every day, it's her favourite place," Y/N replied. "That's good, I'll be there tomorrow, whatever timing's convenient for you," he smiled, relieved. "6?" she asked him.

"Yes, that'll do. Bye, see you tomorrow!" He hung up the phone and turned to Dodger, who was watching intently.

Y/N kept her phone away and turned to Zeus, who was watching her intently. Both Chris and Y/N got smiles on their faces at the same time.

"Tomorrow you're meeting Zeus."

"Tomorrow you're meeting Dodger."

Both dogs simultaneously let out a happy bark, making their owners 1000 times more happy than they already were. Y/N went to do her laundry again and Chris went to see the TV with Dodger. As Y/N was putting her clothes in a dryer, she realized something.

"Oh, God, is this a date?" she groaned. Meanwhile, Chris had realized the same thing too. He freaked out, he had just asked her on a date! "Doing it for Dodger. Not myself," he mumbled under his breath.

"I'm doing it for Zeus, not myself," Y/N reminded herself and took out the dry clothes from the dryer. She then went to her room to iron them.

---

The next day dawned way earlier than either of them would have wanted. Y/N's biggest concern was the media seeing Chris and her together.

She didn't want hoards of angry fans at her doorstep attempting to murder her for having a goddamn date with Chris Evans. She hated the media for posting mindless things like those.

Chris' concern, meanwhile, was not that he didn't want to be seen in the media with her, it was that he didn't want the media to notice her in the first place.

Since the garden was a popular spot for celebs with pets, paparazzi and reporters were always roaming around. And they always printed the wrong sorts of news. He didn't want Y/N to be in a bad light because Hey, did you see that girl with Chris Evans? Yeah, she's such a bitch, I mean, I'm more beautiful, obviously, why doesn't he notice me?!

He had fans like that.

Y/N was obviously more beautiful than any other girl, any other celebrity he had ever seen. Kind, generous, polite, good looking, intelligent… What more could he want? She also had a dog. That was a bonus for him. She treated her dog so well, so kindly, as if it was her firstborn child. Chris could see why Dodger was attracted to Zeus.

He could say the same about himself being attracted to Y/N. She was nice, why the hell couldn't he date her? He would date her and proudly so, okay? "Come on Dodge, we're going to meet Y/N and Zeus!" Chris called out, tying his shoelaces. Dodger came running from the living room.

He waited patiently as Chris quickly tied the leash to Dodger's collar. Y/N was tying a leash to Zeus' collar while she excitedly jumped around. "Okay, baby girl, here we go," Y/N took a deep breath and wore her goggles, opening the door. As soon as the door opened, Zeus attempted to run.

Y/N somehow managed to lock the door when she lost control and Zeus ran, pulling Y/N behind her. Y/N laughed as she ran behind Zeus. They reached the park at 2 minutes to 6 o'clock. They walked in and looked around, Y/N trying to find Chris. She saw him sitting on a bench, far away.

He was checking his watch, Dodger sitting by his leg, wagging his tail. Zeus, when she saw them, ran. Y/N, naturally, ran behind her.

When Chris heard her, he looked up and nearly dropped his phone to the ground. That happy laugh on Y/N's face could make stone-hearted people smile. Y/N, once she was by Chris' side, stopped and took the leash off of Zeus. Chris did the same with Dodger and the two happy dogs took off.

Y/N collapsed on the bench next to Chris, taking deep and heavy breaths. Then, she realized she had forgotten her water bottle. She groaned. "Y/N, everything alright?" Chris asked with concern. "Zeus... made... me... run... all th... all the way up... to here," she wheezed, coughing.

"I feel like you should drink water," he said, patting her shoulder. She was wearing track pants and a loose t-shirt, same with Chris. "I... forgot... my... bottle," she coughed more, sitting up straight. She felt better, but not without water.

"Here. I brought extra, just in case." She accepted his bottle, thanking him. When she drank the water, she felt better. "Thank you so much, Chris," she said, a grateful smile on her face. "A date helps a date." When she heard those words, Y/N looked at Chris with a look of disbelief on her face.

Her eyes wide and her jaw dropped. Chris chuckled. "I realized yesterday, what a date-like situation it was. Couples always bring their dogs for a walk," he shrugged, giving her a lopsided grin. "I didn't think you'd want to acknowledge this as a date," Y/N laughed, running a hand through her shoulder-length hair. Chris was sporting his iconic Captain America beard and long hair.

If you had a chance to see them, they looked so much like a couple you would've thought they were married. They started talking about general things, like what they do, where they live, their hobbies, favourite this, favourite that, blah blah blah.

After a while, as both of them got engrossed in their talks, Y/N noticed that Chris' watch said 8. They spent two hours just talking.

"Chris, it's getting late, I should go," she smiled sheepishly. "Oh, it's 8 already?! I have to head home too," he chuckled and they stood up. "Where are Dodger and Zeus?"

They looked around, panicking because they couldn't find their dogs anywhere. There were still people in the park, so they weren't worried much. "You go there, I'll go there," Chris said, pointing towards the left and right.

Y/N nodded and they left to find their dogs. Y/N was the one who found them. When she found them, she smiled broadly and took a photo. Then she called Chris. "Y/N! Did you find them?" She smiled softly. She told him where she was and once he got there, both of them smiled at their dogs. Zeus and Dodger were sitting under a tree sleeping peacefully.

They were curled up next to each other in a small bundle of fur. Chris put an arm around Y/N's shoulder and she turned to look at him. "They look so happy. You should bring Zeus over some time," he whispered, not looking at her. She nodded and looked down at Zeus and Dodger. They gently woke the doggos up and took them home, both the dogs following their owners in a sleepy stance.

At the garden gate, "I guess I'll see you later."

"See you later, Chris," Y/N replied in a soft voice. In the flow of the moment, Chris quickly leaned in, gave Y/N a kiss on her cheek and left with Dodger. Y/N kept standing in her spot, had Chris Evans just kissed her? She shook her head, sensing many more moments like those to come.

She wasn't even bothered.

She was excited.

---

A/N: Hello, I hope you liked it! Leave a like if you did :)))))))

[lilacharry]

Tongue Tied

Inspired by true events

“Y/N,” James seemed to bark, snapping Y/N back into reality. She had been sat recording some material for a popular late night talk show and the group had veered into unknown territory for her. Something about the discomfort of one of the other guests having to shoot a very intimate scene in front of their partner’s spouse. Y/N had never been put in such a situation and felt it would have been better to remain quiet on her end of the couch.

“Yes!” She laughed, startled at the sudden call of her name.

“I’ve heard that you throw massive, major parties,” James smiled, his cards covering his mouth as he leaned back into his seat.

“Kind of,” Y/N answered with suspicion, eyeing the audience, “I mean, they’re not that big-”

“No, they’re massive! We had Derek on a few months ago and he said that you have a venue with three different rooms just for different genres of music,” James spoke feverishly, his hands outstretched.

“I mean,” Y/N trailed as she shuffled in her seat, “yeah... but he’s making it seem a lot bigger than it is-”

“I have never been so offended in my life to not have received an invitation,” James threw his hands up.

“You would come?” Y/N laughed, clasping her hands in front of her crossed legs.

“You say that like it’s absurd? Have you got something against fuller bodied men dancing the night away? Do you think I’ll embarrass you?” James jokingly scoffed.

“I didn’t get an invitation, either,” Harry piped from the other end of the couch, raising his index finger.

That was one voice Y/N had been trying to ignore the entire night. She had been a fan ever since she was younger and had done a good job of avoiding meeting the celebrity at other gatherings. She had not been sure how she would act if she ever had the opportunity to properly meet him and decided on playing it safe by actively avoiding events and locations she knew he frequented. That was until one of the producers on the Late Late show had lied to her about Harry’s presence on the show that particular night.

Everyone seemed to know of Y/N’s plans to avoid Harry Styles and took great joy in trying to get the two in a room. Judging by how flustered Y/N would even get when the young man’s name was brought up, everybody thought it would be a delight to surprise her with his presence. She had done a wonderful job of wising up to everybody’s intentions, so far. She had started to decline last minute invitations for random parties from her close friends ever since that one incident. She had had a little wine in her system and been grinding on one of her gyrating friends one night—as a joke—when someone had started recording on their phone. It was when she went to look up from her friend pretending to spank her, to see Harry enter the party. The video was quite amusing, seeing her eyes widen in fear as she’s filmed booking it out of frame. Since then, whenever she would decline sudden invitations to gatherings, she would wake up to see that he had attended said event the next morning while scrolling through her social media feed. She knew why her friend, Florence, would try to arrange last minute brunches with her as Y/N knew Florence’s boyfriend was great friends with Harry and had shared in Florence’s attempts to get her to meet him. She had gone about two years of avoiding the male, but, alas, here she was two cushions over from him. She blamed her sudden bout of placidity on the fact that she didn’t want to say or do anything embarrassing in front of him, but James had kept poking fun at her and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“Then is it just against the British, Y/N?” James scowled.

“Well, most people that come out are either very Hispanic or love latin music and are, like, professional dancers,” Y/N’s face burned as she explained.

“What? Do we not look like professionals?” James egged her on.

“No, I’m sure you’re great dancers. But, it’s also back in San Francisco,” Y/N reasoned with a little shrug of her shoulders, “you would make the trip out?”

“Invite us, and you’ll find out,” James commented with a little giggle, “no, seriously, though, do you really need three different rooms?”

“Well, if people prefer one specific genre it’s kinda nice,” Y/N explained.

“Like what?” Harry asked, trying to make eye contact with the woman that had been avoiding his gaze since the beginning of the show.

“Eh, last time we had one for salsa, bachata, and tropical, and the main room had food and, like... I don’t mean to sound crass, but like... white people music,” Y/N grimaced at the term, “I’m sorry! I don’t know how else to describe it. They also play other music, but more like music that you can kind of... I don’t know...”

“That’s very offensive, Y/N,” James gawked before laughing out.

“Like top 40!” Harry came to Y/N’s rescue.

“Yes, like top 40!” Y/N laughed, and Harry smiled at her nose scrunching in the process.

“So there were four rooms, in total?” James suddenly realized.

“Yes, but it sounds bigger than it really is,” Y/N shook her head, .

“Oh, stop minimizing the party you didn’t invite us to,” James narrowed his eyes at Y/N.

“I’ll make sure to invite you to the next one; we have great food, too,” Y/N leaned back in her seat, uncomfortable with being called out for something she didn’t know she had done wrong.

“I hate that that’s where your mind automatically went,” James feigned offense. In all reality, James knew how timid Y/N was being and the reasoning behind it. He knew her character and knew she would never say anything to offend him, but he was enjoying taking advantage of the situation.

“No! That’s not what I meant,” Y/N’s eyes seemed to bug out of her skull.

“And for your information, I’m quite the athlete when it comes to dancing,” James turned his nose up at Y/N.

“Athlete? What all do you know how to dance?” Harry rolled his eyes as he reached for his drink that had been set on the coffee table in front of them.

“I can absolutely murder the dance floor whenever white people music comes on,” James earned a laugh from the audience, “Y/N what are you best at? Or do you know all of the ones you mentioned?”

“Sort of,” Y/N smiled and shrugged, “I’m better at others, but nothing too fancy. I know, like, the basics of a lot of them just because my mom knew so much and taught me, growing up.”

“Here at Late, Late, we do not tolerate liars,” James began before turning to the monitor behind him, “and Derek sent us this and I’d like to see what you have to say.”

A clip came on where Y/N had been shown being led by one of her companions around a dance floor, making Y/N laugh out.

“Explain that, Y/N!” James pointed at the monitor, “’nothing too fancy’—that’s professional. What’s that, then? Bit of salsa?”

“Yes... but I’m actually not that good at it,” Y/N explained.

“I hate you,” James teased, “could you teach us something?”

“Sure... Now?” Y/N questioned, raising her brows.

“Yeah, you know just something quick and very complex,” James laughed as Y/N looked over to a producer that had been waving at the group to start wrapping up, “eh... our producers are waving at us. Can we do a little something when we come back?”

“I’ll teach you when you come to the next one,” Y/N offered after they got a negative response from one of the producers.

“I’m already looking forward to it,” James responded before turning to outstretch his hand to Harry, “will you be my date?”

“If I’m invited, yes!” Harry grabbed a hold of James’ hand before the two turned to look at Y/N.

“Of course! Did you want one, as well?” Y/N quickly diverted attention to the long forgotten third guest who had been seated between her and Harry.

The rest of the show went along smoothly enough; with Y/N staying somewhat reserved and not making even more of a complete fool of herself. The show had soon wrapped and she was soon caught in a storm of questions and demands from her team as they swept her away from set. She tried to politely excuse herself with one last general farewell, but was enamored with how Harry had reached out to shake her hand and tell her it had been nice to meet her. She felt light headed as she was urged to continue away to the room that had been assigned to her, backstage.

+ + +

“Was that really so bad, now?” Martin, the producer that had invited her onto the show, came walking into her dressing room as Y/N and her team had started to pack up.

“I made a complete and utter fool of myself,” Y/N cried out, covering her face with her palms, “I actually said white people music!”

“He knew you didn’t mean it like that,” Martin brushed off her embarrassment as he leaned in the doorframe.

“I can’t believe you did that to me; I’m just thankful I didn’t pass out,” Y/N remarked as her hands dropped to her side before she reached out to grab a hold of one of her bags.

“He thought you were lovely,” Martin rolled his eyes, “and he’s really looking forward to that invitation, Y/N.”

“What makes you say that?” Y/N furrowed her brows as more people seemed to shuffle out of the room.

“I heard him ask James to let him know if you ended up sending the invitation, since you didn’t take his number,” Martin grinned as he crossed his arms over his chest, “even after James told him he wouldn’t want to make the trip out there. Said he’s genuinely curious as to how such a gathering would go, but I think he’s just taken a liking to you.”

“How? I barely spoke the entire time we were in the same room,” Y/N huffed out.

“Dunno; maybe he knows you’re a fan and wants to make your wildest dreams come true,” Martin wiggled his brows at her, earning a scoff from Y/N.

“Can we talk about this nonsense later?” Y/N widened her eyes before going to wrap her arm around Martin.

“Fine; was nice seeing you,” Martin hugged her back, “let me know when the next shin-dig is so I can tell your boyfriend.”

“Oh my God,” Y/N laughed as she made her way to the hallway.

+ + +

A few weeks later, Y/N’s phone had startled her when it rang out in the middle of a dinner she had planned with some friends. Upon glancing at the device, she found Martin’s name at the top of the message, but thought nothing of it and forgot of its existence—she didn’t like having her phone out at dinner, in the first place. It wasn’t until the next morning when she had unlocked her phone to find the message:

H is asking if there’s any word on that party ... What shall I tell him?

Under the first message was:

I’ll give him your number ???

Y/N chewed on her lower lip as she wondered if Martin had already gone through with giving Harry her number and if there were any negatives to his suggestion. She didn't see why not...

Morning! Sorry; just saw your message! Yeah; go ahead! ☺️

She sent the message and hoped she wouldn’t make even more of a complete fool of herself. It wasn’t too long before Martin sent her a screenshot of what appeared to be his messages with Harry:

Ask her!! 628-555-0890

Hey! Thanks mate! Do you think it okay, though? Not creepy, or anything?

jfc these things used to be so simple; she won’t bite

Y/N laughed out at the screenshot before she got a notification from an unknown number:

Hello! How are you? Martin gave me your number, I hope that’s okay.

And then immediately seconds after:

Sorry, this is Harry.

Y/N could not help but gush at the message and had a sudden realization that Harry Styles had just messaged her—HARRY STYLES HAD JUST MESSAGED HER. It wasn’t long before she started getting into her own head. She thought she wasn’t interesting enough to respond with something smart or enticing and wished he really hadn’t messaged her, in the first place. She had no idea how to respond to that... He didn’t give her much to go off... She started panicking.

Hi ☺️ I’m doing well! How’ve you been? Of course, I told him to ☺️ I haven’t gotten around to planning the next gathering, yet, but I’ll definitely let you know when we start looking into it ☺️

Three smiley faces were too much, wasn’t it? She didn’t know... She decided to keep the one at the end in and blindly pressed the blue send button. God, she hoped that wasn’t too short or long. She really wished Martin hadn’t put her in such a situation... She found herself laughing at the memory of Kim Kardashian crying about Kourtney knowing she felt uncomfortable in certain situations and putting her in them, anyways. This guy knew Kendall Jenner intimately... God, Y/N really wished Martin hadn’t done this to her.

Okay—sorry, hope I'm not coming off as a creep. Just knew I would forget if I didn’t get your number from Martin. I’m actually really curious to see what it looks like.

Y/N sighed out, not knowing if she should respond. There was nothing more to say... right? They weren’t best friends so that she could send something else about her day to him. At least he had left it open, so she could potentially try to strike up a conversation... but she was so bad at these things. She would surely end up coming off as the creepy one.

Well, I’m glad you reminded him, then! We'll have good music and the food’s always amazing; definitely bring comfortable and/or stretchy pants 😂

She was annoyed at how fast she just sent the message. Wasn’t there a rule to these things to ensure you didn’t look desperate? There came a lull in the time that Harry took to respond to her. She loathed how many times she checked that her ringer was on and pressed her lock button to ensure she hadn’t missed any notifications. It wasn’t until later that afternoon when another notification from Harry came through her device.

Haha will do, looking forward to it

She scrunched her nose at the message. She had been too weird; she was sure of it. This is why you shouldn’t meet your heroes—sure there’s a chance they’ll be absolute rubbish people but it’s worse when you end up being the rubbish person, isn’t it? She didn’t save his number and left the chain of messages at that. Maybe she would put an end to such gatherings so she never had to speak to him again.

+ + +

“Okay, so we have about 250 people on the list right now,” Jamie, one of Y/N’s assistants spoke between sips of her iced coffee, “are there any other people I should add?”

“Everything else was approved? The venue’s available that day?” Y/N asked as she picked at the manicure she had gotten earlier that week.

“Yep, Magno said he clears any events on days the boss throws one of her big shin digs,” Jamie laughed at the memory of Y/N’s uncle.

“And the caterers agreed to the price?” Y/N choked out as she looked up from her hands.

“Yes... What’s up with you? You’re never this careful with this stuff,” Jamie noted with a furrow of her brows, “what’s going on?”

“No, I’m just making sure that there’ll be an actual party in a few days,” Y/N cleared her throat as she straightened in her chair.

“Who’re you waiting last minute to invite?” Jamie questioned, her tone accusing. There had, on occasion, been one or two people that had gotten absolutely smashed at one of Y/N’s parties and her method to ensure they didn’t ruin an upcoming event with drunken slurs or fights with other guests was inviting them day of said event.

“Nobody,” Y/N laughed as she looked back to her twiddling fingers.

“Wait a second,” Jaime narrowed her eyes as her fingers went to frantically type at the keys of her computer, “I just control effed this mother for Harry and nothing came up... You’re procrastinating inviting the love of your life to this thing? What the hell?”

“Don’t call him that,” Y/N laughed. She really wished she hadn’t made such a promise on national television. It was all that had flooded her social media feed for the first few days after the incident, and every now and then she would be questioned about when the next party was and if she had invited Harry and James.

“This thing is in three days; even if you invited him now, it’ll be a miracle he doesn’t have anything going on... Is he even in La La Land?” Jamie shook her head at Y/N.

“I don’t know,” Y/N sighed as she stretched her legs out, in front of her seated body, “I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him.”

“Look, you already embarrassed yourself back on the show and he still wants the invitation? Doesn’t he deserve more than three days notice?” Jamie pressed.

“Fine; you invite him,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“You’re going to wish you didn’t allow me access to your iCloud sign on,” Jamie smirked before her fingers went to type at her keys once more.

“Jaime... What... What does that mean, what are you doing?” Y/N fearfully questioned as she rose from her seat and ran over to where her assistant sat typing on her computer.

“God, bring stretchy pants? Not okay, Y/N,” Jaime acknowledged as Y/N peered over her shoulder to see her assistant had already logged into Y/N’s iMessage account and had pulled up her conversation with Harry, “I’m going to put ‘Hey, Harry; hope you've been well! Just wanted to let you know the next get together is going to be on Friday. Hope you can make it. Blushing, smiley face emoji...’ Sweet and simple. Yes?”

“I mean,” Y/N droned before earning a glare from Jaime, “okay, fine.”

About fifteen minutes later, Jaime squealed with delight at the notification that had popped up in the right corner of her computer.

Nice! I’ll be in town this weekend! What’s the physical address?

“Ooh! This is so cute,” Jamie gushed as she went to respond to his message.

“I’m going to embarrass myself,” Y/N kept repeating.

“You already have and he’s still coming back for more. I don’t want to hear it,” Jaime rolled her eyes as she sat back and watched the little gray bubble pop up, insinuating Harry’s typing.

Thank you! I’ll be seeing you! Take care x

“He signed off with an x, Y/N,” Jamie squealed as her hands went to squeeze Y/N’s sides.

“I know,” Y/N whined.

“What are you going to wear?” Jaime turned to look at an already very distraught Y/N.

+ + +

Harry was nervous, which had become something of a rarity, anymore. He had consulted one of his friends—one that had been well known in the fashion industry—about what he would wear for the evening. He wanted to look nice... but not like he tried to look a certain way. He was embarrassed for such a thought process and thought it ridiculous that he cared so much about the clothing he had on his body for the night. He knew there were more important things to worry about in the world but, in his defense, he had never felt this way before.

It all had to do with this one girl. About a year previously, he had begun to see her all over his Instagram feed. A few of his friends had recently befriended her and she seemed to suddenly appear in a variety of their posts. At first, he found it a little odd that there was someone so involved with his friends that he didn’t know or hadn’t heard of. He hadn’t thought much about it the first few weeks she had popped up in said photos. He had seen her hair or profile floating in the background of some of his bandmates’ posts, her laugh recorded as she filmed some of his companions videos, and this majestic and oddly captivating smile popping up in a dozen other photos. That was what had first drawn him in, if he was being completely honest. He thought her lips were a peculiar shape; but in a good way. They were a nice contrast to the sculpted ones that seemed to crowd his social media feeds. Harry was not one to judge others for their decision to change their features. He figured if something bothered somebody so much, they were entitled to change what they needed to feel better about themselves. Hers, in particular, though... Well, nobody could achieve the naturally round shape by means of filler, he thought.

He was absolutely enticed by a video in particular where Alexa, one of his close friends, had filmed while approaching her as she stood, arranging flowers in a vase. It seemed to be in somebody’s grand foyer, but Harry wasn’t as interested in all the grandeur that had surrounded her. He was ashamed to say he had studied the video for a lot longer than he would have liked to. Her hair looked like it had been held together by one of those silk scarves he had seen tied on various overpriced bags. She bore an oversized tee shirt as she worked in her space of plant clippings and, what seemed to be, forgotten stems. She spoke of line, or dimension, or something but all he could focus on was the way her lips curved when her joke about sunflowers being flowers for sons failed.

“That was so bad, oh my God,” came her laugh as she shook her head and went back to whatever she had originally intended to explain. He noticed she liked to use her hands while she articulated her thought process.

Another one of the many videos in existence had played a recording of her singing "I Just Called To Say I Love You” to one of their friends as a voicemail. Harry couldn’t believe the emotion it stirred inside of him. It was the most endearing little voice that hardly broke, and the little giggle at the end pulled at his heartstrings and he wasn’t sure why. There was this thought nagging at the back of his mind that he could get really invested in this girl if he allowed himself.

One day, he had to go against his better judgement and had tapped on her handle in one of the many tagged photos he had seen. Her profile popped up so easily and he knew he was doomed. One shot was of her sprawled across a bed, her bare legs kicked up against the headboard, feet covered in red fuzzy slippers as she seemingly read John Boyne’s The Heart's Invisible Furies. He had done little research on the book before he got a confirmation e-mail on his purchase.

Another image depicted her sitting cross legged on the floor, surrounded by a sea of various sized and shaped seashells. He couldn't help but smile at at the image of her in jeans, topless while holding up two shells over either side of her chest. She had captioned it “What the shell?”. It wasn’t funny; but he found himself eventually laughing at the caption.

It was a real slippery slope that he had fallen down. He knew better than to poke around in somebody’s social media accounts, yet there he was—laughing and gushing at the dozens of photos she had posted. There weren’t many likes on the photos and her follower count was nothing to boast about. He wondered what she did for work... There was nothing written in the little biography section and he wouldn’t allow himself to look her up on any other forms of media. He wondered how she had met so many of the people he knew.

“She was working with one of those self-help magazine column things,” Alexa had informed him over brunch one sunny afternoon.

“S'very LA,” Harry chuckled to himself, and he wasn’t sure why, but he felt badly after the words came out of his mouth.

“No, she’s not like that. She refuses to move out here; lives in San Francisco—says it gives her less anxiety,” Alexa explained as she took a bite of her veggie burger, “anyways, I guess she was working on writing or producing some documentary series with some director—Larraín, I think—and I guess he liked her so much he offered her a big gig in one of his films a couple years back.”

“Ah,” came Harry’s understanding nod. He had never heard of the man, but was surprised to hear such a drastic change of careers.

“Guess she’s a bit of a fan,” Alexa shrugged as she looked around the restaurant they had been seated at, “Florence keeps trying to get you two in the same room. You saw that video Maggie posted of Florence’s shin dig a few months ago?”

“Yeah! Got all spooked or summat,” Harry furrowed his brows as he shoveled some of the rice he had ordered earlier into his mouth.

“Well, I guess,” Alexa stopped as her eyes widened and her lips curved into a grin, “someone’s been cyber stalking.”

“Ah, s’nothing,” Harry’s cheeks burned as he reached for his water.

“Anyways, no, I guess she was mortified because you walked in,” Alexa burst into laughter.

“Me?” Harry gasped, pointing at himself in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Alexa continued to chortle before coughing into her fist, “m’telling you; she’s quite a fan.”

“Huh,” came Harry’s response as he took a drink from his water, “s’interesting.”

It hadn’t been long before he had joined in on everybody’s attempts to get into the same room as the female. Eventually, he had found out through James Corden that a producer on his show was great friends with Y/N, and the rest had been history.

He felt ridiculous as he stood in front of his mirror staring at the clothing that had been sent to him earlier that day. He groaned as he forcefully shedded the blazer from his shoulders and went in search for something more casual.

+ + +

It had already been a pretty long morning for Y/N. She had been waken at six in the morning by Jamie claiming one of the vendors fell through and was demanding a larger sum of money if Y/N really wanted them to serve food at her gathering. A groggy eyed Y/N had wandered into her study to find the contract she had drawn up with the business and had gotten them on the phone within thirty minutes bringing up the terms of contingencies the two had agreed upon. It had taken a bit of haggling on both ends, but Y/N finally got the company to agree to their original terms. It was ten by the time Y/N had just started to fall asleep when Benny, one of the decorators, had messaged Y/N about a missing table. From then on, it seemed one miniature disaster occurred one after the other. Never in the time Y/N had held such events had so many things gone wrong last minute. Thankfully, she was able to resolve most of the pop up problems, but by the time Y/N was supposed to be getting ready for the night, she felt as though she could drop at any given moment with how exhausted she felt. She had jumped back into bed and set an alarm for a thirty minute snooze, but even that had been interrupted by Jamie calling her to open her front door. The designer of the outfit Y/N agreed to wear for the night had mixed up her measurements and the fit was all out of proportions. So, Y/N and Jamie had frantically started going through her closet to see what possible contenders there were for the night. Naturally, Jamie had wanted Y/N to wear her most revealing dress, but Y/N wouldn’t allow it. She insisted that such an outfit wouldn't allow her to dance as comfortably as something a little more sensible. The two compromised as Y/N finally settled for a calf length, flowy dress that was low cut and had cut outs around her midsection.

Thankfully, Y/N had made it to the venue on time to help set up, iced soy latte in hand—Jamie had insisted on the way over when she saw Y/N nodding off in the passenger seat. Magno had chewed Y/N out for having come in so early, again. He always told her they had things handled so she could literally “roll up with everybody else.” Y/N usually always replied how she liked to see everything set up before people arrived, anyways, so it was usually, really no bother. This particular day, though, she really wished she had taken her uncle up on such an offer.

The sun had started to set when people started flooding in. Y/N didn’t know how to act. Usually, she would already be pulling people into rooms and forcing them to dance with her, whether they liked it or not. She would circle around greeting friends and their plus ones, telling them what her favorite foods to order were and what drinks to try at the bar. With Harry coming, though, Y/N had to fight the urge to plant herself at the entrance just to catch a glimpse of him. Honestly speaking, despite her best efforts to speak with everyone who participated in her festivities, there were nights when a friend would message her the next day saying that they were sorry they weren't able to talk to her and to plan something in the future. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Harry, but the more people that started showing up, the more she had begun to be pulled every which way by her guests. Jamie had assured her that she would be on the look out for the male, but Y/N had thought that a little unfair and told Jamie not to worry about it and to enjoy herself, instead.

“Y/N! Odie wants you to head back to the kitchen for something special,” Jamie had come up behind Y/N while she stood chatting with some companions.

“Hm? Oh, okay,” Y/N seemed flustered as Jamie grabbed a hold of her hand and pulled her away from her friends, “what? Did he walk in?”

“Hm? Oh,” Jamie nervously chuckled to herself as the two continued walking towards the back of the venue, “eh... no... Odie really does have something for you, but I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

“He’s not coming,” Y/N sighed before shaking her head, “it’s really better that he doesn’t. I’d make a fool of myself.”

“Oh my God, stop being so dramatic,” Jamie began before the two were interrupted by one of Y/N’s acquaintances.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” came Daphne’s frantic chants as Y/N and Jamie turned to face the young woman, “you have to come with me right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Y/N furrowed her brow, thinking something else had gone wrong.

“Mikka just spotted him at the back entrance; come on,” Daphne grabbed a hold of Y/N’s forearm before pulling her towards the direction she had come from.

“Wait,” Jamie pulled Y/N the other way.

“Jamie!” Y/N yelped from being caught in the middle of such a tug of war.

“Sorry,” Jamie laughed before gaining her composure, “I feel like going over there now makes her look desperate.”

“What? No way!” Daphne rolled her eyes.

“It makes it seem like she had people watching for him,” Jamie reasoned.

“I mean, I kinda did,” Y/N shrugged.

“It does not! It’s polite to greet your guests,” Daphne argued.

“Yeah, but not the moment they step foot into the party! Shouldn’t he seek her out?” Jamie tried to dispute.

“He already has by coming in the first place,” Daphne narrowed her eyes and shook her head. The two friends had started going back and forth on what would be considered appropriate while Y/N’s head started to throb with all the decision making she had already had to do throughout the day, and the blasting music in the background. It was when Y/N looked up from rubbing her sinuses when she felt her heart skip a beat. Just a few feet away was Harry, stood speaking with some woman she didn’t recognize. In perfect Harry fashion, he looked jaw droopingly gorgeous. Y/N was sure if any other man on the planet had attempted to sport his outfit, they would have looked ridiculous. However, as always, Harry could pull anything off. She suddenly remembered the subject matter her friends were currently debating and hoped to God the music was too loud for him to overhear them.

“You guys,” Y/N interjected before the two females neared Y/N to better hear the words she spoke, “don’t look; he’s right there.”

“Oh, my God,” Daphne gasped as she immediately looked over to where Y/N had nodded.

“She literally said not to look,” Jamie scolded before rolling her eyes.

“I can’t help it; he’s the literal love of my life,” Daphne seemed to sob, “Y/N, you'd better go over there before he gets mobbed... by me.”

“Daphne’s right, go say hi,” Jamie nodded.

“But,” Y/N tried to buy some time before her friends pushed her away from them, closer to where Harry stood. Y/N tried to recover her balance on her heels from the push as she looked over her shoulder to see them giving her encouraging smiles and a thumbs up. God, she hoped he didn’t see that. As she approached the couple ahead, she couldn’t help but feel the lightest tinge of jealousy creeping over her at the woman that stood so closely to him. Then she started to feel as though she would be interrupting an intimate chat if she were to just walk up to the pair to say hello. She decided against greeting him as she tried to find the nearest person to glob onto before actually catching his eye. The way he smiled at her made her face burn and she knew she would have to think of something intelligent or interesting to say—quick. She watched as he said something to the woman he was with before she nodded and left him. This was sure to mean that she could approach him... right?

“Hi!” Was all Y/N could muster as she smiled at Harry. She wasn’t sure if she should go for the hug or handshake, and so there was this awkward carrying on where Harry had gone in for the embrace while Y/N stuck out her arm. Then came the same predicament only with the two swapping actions. Harry finally grabbed Y/N’s hand in his own hands to greet her.

“Sorry; didn’t want to interrupt over there,” Harry nodded over to where Daphne and Jamie were not even attempting to hide the fact that they were trying to eavesdrop on the two.

“Oh, no! That’s fine; they were just telling me whether or not I should head over here and whether it would make me look desperate,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Desperate?” Harry cocked his head, his lips grinning.

“They like to overanalyze everything; they think just because you’re here tonight, you want to get in my pants or something,” Y/N laughed before realizing what she had just said and really wishing she hadn’t come in so early. She must have been delirious; she could get real open and chatty when she was exhausted. All Harry could do was laugh.

“Sorry, must be a little delirious or something. I haven’t even had a lick to drink tonight,” Y/N nervously laughed.

“S’fine! Sorry, I was late! I forgot what traffic can be like over here on the weekend,” Harry rolled his eyes, “but thank you for inviting me!”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Y/N anxiously laughed, “James didn’t want to come?”

“No, s’too much of a scrooge,” Harry laughed, “you look great!”

“Please! Look at you,” Y/N beamed as she gave him a once over.

“Eh,” Harry shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes, “they’re not stretchy pants, was afraid I’d overdressed.”

“Oh, my god! I can’t believe I said that. No, Latinos live for this kind of stuff; it’s like their Paris Fashion Week, so you might be a little underdressed, if anything,” Y/N joked as her wrist went to nudge at Harry’s arm.

“Is that what it is?” Harry laughed as he looked around at all the people that had started looking their way.

“Yeah,” Y/N noticed the eyes that had gravitated their way, “have you gotten anything to eat or drink, yet?”

“No! Didn’t know what to get; there’s so much,” Harry shook his head as his brows raised on his forehead.

“S’not much of a time without a drink! C’mon, let’s get you something yummy,” Y/N smiled as she took hold of Harry’s hand before looking behind her to see her friends still staring at them. She mouthed that the two were headed to the kitchen. The two nodded and shoed them away. It was when Harry had caught up to Y/N’s pace that she had realized she was still holding onto Harry’s hand.

“S’really big!” Harry shouted over the music as Y/N let go of his hand, making Harry look down at the loss of contact. He had debated reaching out for it once more, but thought it ridiculous.

“A lot of people couldn’t make it,” Y/N laughed as they neared the kitchen.

“What?” Harry gaped as he followed. There were fewer people the further they had gotten from where they had met and he felt like Y/N could hear him without having to yell.

“I mean,” Y/N shrugged as her name was suddenly called out and she looked around to wave back at whoever had called her name, “I kinda copied the idea from an event we had back home, and they had twice as many rooms.”

“Twice?” Harry marveled at the girl walking beside him.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, smiling at the memory, “it was nice, though! All the vendors in town would pitch in and serve, and even though there were twice as many people, everybody knew each other. Newcomers always came back the next year, and it was just a nice little event everybody looked forward to every year, you know?”

“I’d have liked to see that,” Harry shook his head as the two finally entered the kitchen. Y/N was about to respond but was interrupted.

“Y/N!” Came a shout from somewhere in the back, making Y/N pick up her pace towards the man that had caught sight of her.

“Odie!” Y/N gasped as she spread her arms open to the man before he took her in his arms and leaned back to pick her up from the ground.

“You’ve come to say hello to your amiguinho?” Odie widened his eyes at Y/N.

“Claro!” Y/N’s smile radiated her familiarity with the man before going to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Ah, meu bem, have you brought me someone to cook for?” Odie asked, the sound of Y/N’s heels landing back on firm ground as he looked around her body at Harry.

“Oh, Odie, this is my friend Harry,” Y/N looked back and signaled for Harry to come closer, “Harry this is Odie.”

“Nice to meet you, Sir Styles,” Odie’s eyes squinted as he smiled at the young man as he stuck out his hand for Harry to take.

“Nice to meet you, Odie,” Harry reciprocated his smile.

“O que ele disse?” Odie furrowed his brows at Y/N.

“Ah, you’ll have to speak up, Harry. Ele é surdo,” Y/N spoke up to Odie, laughing when he elbowed her side, “he can’t hear very well out of his left ear on account of always yelling at people.”

“Feh,” Odie swiped a palm through the air, “makes a good chef.”

“Excuses,” Y/N narrowed her eyes and shook her head, “Jamie said you had something for me.”

“Sim! Vem, vem, vem,” Odie ushered the two over to another section of his kitchen, cursing a few people that had not moved out of his way. Y/N had apologized to those he cursed as she trailed behind Odie. She spoke so softly, if he hadn't been trying, Harry wouldn’t have known she was apologizing.

“I know you couldn’t have them last time, but I finally worked out how to make it sem laticínios,” Odie paused as he turned to the couple behind him, “no dairy.”

“Pasteis de nata?” Y/N gasped as her eyes fell to where a pan of pastries on the counter.

“Sim! Yes,” Odie’s eyes shrank as he gave her his biggest smile, “tente! Try! Please.”

“Odie, obrigado! It smelled absolutely celestial last time, my mouth was watering. I almost threw away cinco anos de veganismo to taste it,” Y/N explained as she reached to grab two of the pastries from the pan before handing the other to Harry.

“What is it? Paste de,” Harry paused as he looked between Y/N and Odie for the answer.

“Pasteis de nata,” Odie answered, as Y/N had already popped the pastry into her mouth, laughing because she couldn’t speak with her mouth so full.

“Pasteis de nata,” Harry repeated before Odie nodded with glee.

“Try!” Odie insisted before Harry went to taste the food.

“Oh, Odie,” Y/N moaned, her eyes rolling, “you’ve outdone yourself! Está perfeito! Que gostoso! E a receita?”

“É um segredo,” Odie shook his head, “you ever want; avise-se me! Call me!”

“S’delicious,” Harry gaped as he went in for another bite.

“I know,” Odie grinned, crossing his arms over her chest, “your new boyfriend?”

“Hm? Oh, no,” Y/N quickly interjected, shaking her head, “actually, can we take one for his date?”

At this point, somebody had called for Odie somewhere within the kitchen and he had cursed under his breath before turning back to Y/N.

“Meu bem, sempre um prazer. Pleasure, pleasure,” Odie gave Y/N another smile as he went to sandwich her hand in his own, “you’ll come and visit, soon?”

“Of course,” Y/N nodded as she laid her free hand on top of his, “muito obrigado por ter vindo.”

“Ah, your Portuguese está melhorando,” Odie shook his head at Y/N, “much better, meu bem. Harry! Foi um prazer conhece-lo; lovely to meet you. Conte-me, what’s your favorite food?”

“Eh,” Harry chuckled, trying to think of something, “eh, I’ll eat pretty much anything, so long as it’s not meat.”

“Okay,” Odie nodded, pensively before being yelled at once more for assistance, “Aff! Okay, I’ll make something and send out! Até logo!”

“Até logo! Thank you,” Y/N smiled as he sent a wave their way before rushing away. Y/N grabbed another small pastry and halved it to share with Harry.

“Date?” Harry scrunched his nose as he turned to look at Y/N, who had already taken a bite from her half.

“Yeah,” Y/N innocently nodded, her hand going to cover her mouth full, looking up to see Harry’s confused features, “the woman... you were speaking to? Before?”

“Oh,” Harry finally spoke after a few moments of trying to remember who he had been speaking to beforehand, “oh, no, that was just someone that just came up to me... you don’t know who it was?”

“No,” Y/N laughed at his expression, clutching her stomach as she did so, “sometimes people bring their friends that I’m not that acquainted with.”

“Ah,” Harry frowned as he put his hand on his hip, “s’that not scare you?”

“Not really,” Y/N shook her head, “it hasn’t been a problem, so far.”

“Well, wish I would’ve known that,” Harry commented with a little shrug of his shoulders.

“Why? Nobody ever asks, they just bring them,” Y/N took another bite from the dish Odie had made for her.

“Hate showing up to places alone,” Harry explained as he looked down at the half of the pastry Y/N had given him, “didn’t want anyone to think they had to entertain me.”

“Ugh, I know,” Y/N squinted and smiled as she bumped his hand with the back of her palm, “sorry, hope you don’t mind my company?”

“No, of course not,” Harry quickly shook his head before a silence came over the two.

“What? You don’t like it?” Y/N nodded toward the pastry he had been holding while blankly looking at her.

“No, s’great,” Harry smiled as he went to take a bite, “think it may be one of the best sweets I’ve ever had... What was it? That he was speaking?”

“Português,” Harry finding it endearing how easily the accent rolled off her tongue, “it’s a beautiful language, no?”

“Yeah... And you speak it?” Harry questioned as he watched her finish her half of the pastry. “No... at least not fluently. Well, it’s pretty close to Spanish, but m’learning little by little,” Y/N shrugged as she rubbed her hands together to rid them of crumbs, “hate him having to speak another language on my account, he tries so hard. Figured I could put some effort in, as well.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, knowingly, “s’cool.”

“You want some actual food, now? I’m already getting a tummy ache with all the junk food I’ve consumed today,” Y/N smiled up at him as he took another bite of the dessert. He laughed as he raised a fist to cover his mouth.

“Sure,” came his muffled response before Y/N nodded for him to follow her. They had made their way to another room where there were a few people jotting down orders and giving people estimates of how long it would take for them to get their food.

“What do you recommend?” Harry asked as the two looked at the various options on various panels of food.

“Everything,” Y/N sighed as her eyes seemed to look for something in particular, “do you like hispanic food?”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged before Y/N turned to look at him.

“How much spice can you handle?” Y/N questioned, raising her brows at the male.

“Oh,” Harry laughed, “eh... a good amount, I guess?”

“Okay,” Y/N turned back to the menu, “the jackfruit tacos are al pastor and can be quite spicy, so is the pozole... eh, they do a great tamale with mole sauce on top. The pasteles are pretty good... Mmm, there’s a few curry dishes and Odie’s been trying his hand at a few Asian inspired dishes.”

“‘ve got just about everything, don’t you?” Harry wondered, shaking his head. “I don’t know, now. Everything sounds good.”

“How hungry are you?” Y/N asked, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.

+ + +

“This is fucking delicious,” Harry groaned out. He had just tasted the tamale Y/N had ordered earlier. It was not the first time he had uttered those words throughout the night. Y/N had ordered them “a little bit of everything” and he was surprised at how much of it the two were able to put away. Within twenty minutes, a platter had been served to them with small servings of various foods. Y/N had told him she had wanted to show him something and had taken all she could in her arms before he had taken the rest in his own. She had led him up a dark flight of stairs before kicking open a door that revealed the venue’s rooftop. The two had taken a seat on the edge of a skylight, the twinkling lights of San Francisco providing enough light for them to see what they were eating—the Golden Gate Bridge was somewhere off in the distance of the fog.

“Feel like you’ve said that about all of it,” Y/N laughed as she reached for the drink she had set in front of her criss crossed legs earlier. Harry had tried what she had called Ponche—a drink infused with cinnamon, apple, and various other fruits. It had proven to be too sweet for him, so Y/N had happily agreed to finish it.

“It just keeps getting better, though,” Harry attempted to explain, “and just when I think that I’ve tried the best, I’ll go back for something else and that’s great, too... How’d you get so many vendors, anyway? I saw one actually came in from LA.”

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled before Harry squints at her.

“You must be something to have people come out so far,” Harry commented with a shake of his head, “even restaurants have a limit to how much money gets shoved at them before they refuse such a long distance to travel.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Y/N shook her head and shrugged as he watched her arm poke from his blazer to grab more food. He had noticed the goosebumps poke through her skin when they first started setting up and had debated offering her his jacket. He liked Y/N. He thought she was sweet and nice to talk to but he didn’t want to be too, as he found Y/N liked to say, cheesy. He had offered, anyways, and the item had been graciously refused by Y/N.

“Then you’ll be cold, and what’s the good in that,” Y/N scrunched her nose, “I’m used to it, anyways.”

Harry would not have it and had made a great show of taking his blazer off before wrapping her in the remnant warmth of his own body. She had laughed (he realized he really liked the sound) and thanked him. It was then that Jamie had interrupted the two, apologetically delivering a sushi roll Odie had sent up before hurrying away—Y/N had rolled her eyes as she called out to her that she was welcome to stay. Jamie had refused and wished them a great rest of their night. As for the sushi roll, Harry had fallen in love. It had tempura carrots and sweet potato with cucumber and Harry was over the moon with the little sweet sauce that had been drizzled over it.

“I hope I don’t sound presumptuous, but you were a fan?” Harry asked as he reached for the Jamaica Y/N had urged him to try. It was a red hibiscus juice that was too bitter for his tongue at the first sip, but it had started to grow on him.

“Oh my gosh, yes,” Y/N furrowed her brows, “I’m surprised I didn’t pass out on the show.”

“Really?” Harry’s brows raised as he sat the cup back down in front of him.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Y/N asked, cocking her head at him. She had grown suspicious that people had told him of her attempts to avoid him. She was sure Florence had outed her. “Dunno why, but I can’t peg you as the type,” Harry shook his head.

“Well, what's the type?” Y/N inquired as she popped another bit of tamale into her mouth. He had long been in awe of how she had substituted her fork for chop sticks.

“You know what I mean,” Harry sighed as he leaned back on his hands, his legs outstretched, “you were so calm on the show. Could’ve fooled me... Who was your favorite?”

“Oh my God, I’m not telling you that,” Y/N refused as she tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

“Must have been me then,” Harry narrowed his eyes at Y/N and nodded as he pursed his lips at her.

“Wow,” Y/N gaped as she turned to look at his snickering features, “a little full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I mean, is there any other reason why you wouldn’t answer the question, Y/N?” Harry shrugged as he turned to look at Y/N. He liked how he looked with his blazer over her shoulders. It almost looked as if it was intentionally a part of her outfit.

“What if it’s one of the other boys and I just don’t want to risk you running off to tell them?” Y/N shook her head as she watched him pop a plantain into his mouth.

“Then Florence must have been lying when she told me you used to have posters of me up on your walls,” Harry shrugged, nonchalantly.

“Oh my God,” Y/N cried out, her hands going to cover her face before they dropped to reveal her annoyed features, “first of all, it was one and I only put it up as a joke.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Harry laughed as the two reached for the last samosa. Harry tsked and Y/N squinted over at him.

“Don’t think just because you were a little fan, I’m just going to let you have it,” Harry shook his head.

“I will physically fight you,” Y/N shook her head.

“Jesus, give a boy a chance, won’t you?” Harry widened his eyes as he went to cough into his elbow.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Y/N offered with a shake of her head.

“Okay,” Harry shrugged as he turned his body to face her, which she reciprocated. The two chanted the necessary words before Y/N’s hand landed as rock and Harry’s as paper.

“Ah,” Harry cheered as his larger palm went to cover Y/N’s fist, “best two out of three?” “Okay,” Y/N responded, closing her eyes before the two commenced with their antics. Y/N had won the second round, and for the third, Harry had used “fire,” which had started a bit of an argument.

“No, no. It’s called ‘rock, paper, scissors,’ Harry,” Y/N shook her head as she watched him rub his hands on his thighs.

“It’s fire! It beats everything,” Harry chuckled as he went to grab the samosa.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N playfully argued, “if that’s the case then I want another round where we’re using made up rules, that way I can use the water balloon thing.”

“Okay, Phoebe Buffay,” Harry muttered before giving the samosa to Y/N.

“Here,” Y/N chortled as she tore the turnover in half and handed one of the two to Harry, to which they tapped the two together in cheers.

“What’ve you been listening to lately? I feel like I’ve been listening to the same three songs for the past few months, and it’s getting pretty bleak,” Y/N stated as she looked on toward the city lights.

“Ooh, well I’ve kind of rediscovered my love for the lyricism of some of Joni Mitchell’s-” Harry began before Y/N tensed.

“Joni Mitchell?” Y/N’s brows had furrowed.

“Yeah,” Harry replied as he turned his head to look at her. There was an awkward pause where Y/N seemed to be mulling something over.

“Didn’t she... didn’t she do blackface on one of her album covers?” Y/N asked after swallowing her food, brushing some crumbs from her lap.

“Eh,” Harry didn’t know how to answer the question, “she said that she really identified with-”

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “I... I don’t know... I just feel like that’s not a good enough reason. She hasn’t experienced what they’ve experienced. I think... I think that’s kind of unfair of her to say.”

“Uh,” Harry trailed as he tried to think of what to respond before shaking his head, “no, that... that makes sense.”

There was a moment of silence where Harry wondered if he had just messed everything up.

“I’m sorry, I,” Y/N began before Harry went to fervently shake his head.

“No,” Harry voiced, “you’re completely right. I just... I guess I never thought about it like that, but thank you for bringing it to my attention. I never want to support someone... someone that isn’t... well, considerate, I suppose.”

“No,” Y/N also shook her head, “I haven’t read much more about it. Maybe she apologized... or something. Sometimes I overreact-”

“You didn’t,” Harry assured, his hand going to cover Y/N’s and Y/N couldn’t help but sigh a breath of relief. Her last boyfriend had always gotten so angry when she spoke about such things. It was a breath of fresh air to be heard by someone she admired so much.

“I liked putting a donation box at the front,” Harry quickly changed the subject, “s’a good idea.”

“Right?” Y/N raised her brows and nodded. “Wish I could take credit for it; but Jamie was the one that had suggested it.”

“Jamie seems real nice,” Harry commented as he went in for another bite of samosa.

“Yeah, she’s sweet,” Y/N smiled. The two sat in a comfortable silence where they listened as the song playing beneath them had changed.

“See,” Harry nudged her arm, “what’s this? I can never differentiate between different genres... is that not tasteful to say?”

“No, not at all,” Y/N shook her head, “I had trouble with it when I was younger. This sounds like it’s cumbia.”

“And how’s it danced? How is it different than, like, salsa?” Harry asked, going for the Jamaica, again.

“Mm,” Y/N hummed as she finished chewing and swallowing, “salsa tends to be more front and back, while cumbia is more to the sides, but there’s a few different ways to dance it.”

“Will you teach me?” Harry asked as he set down the cup of red liquid to his side.

“Yeah, sure!” Y/N smiled as she set down what was left of her samosa and slipping Harry’s blazer from her shoulders. “D’ya mind terribly if I lay it on the glass, here? S’okay if you do! Can put it back on. Don’t wanna get it dirty.”

“No, it’s fine!” Harry nodded before the two pushed up from their seat.

“Okay so you can do a simple two steps to either side like this,” Y/N began.

“Okay, but y’can’t poke fun at me, because I know I’ll look ridiculous,” Harry seemed to pout, his hands at his hips.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Y/N almost seemed to scorn before grabbing his hands and urging him to follow her steps, “there you go!”

“Yeah?” Harry asked as he stepped back to look at her feet. “You said there were a few ways; which do you prefer?”

“That I prefer? Mm, you almost want to think like your skipping,” Y/N explained as she crossed one foot over the other, “and then you kick this one out.”

“So you cross this one,” Harry followed as he looked at his own feet before looking to Y/N for further instruction.

“Yeah, and then kick that one out,” Y/N pointed to one of his legs before he followed her direction, “yep, just like that. Then you do the same on the other side. Mm-hm.”

“Just like that?” Harry asked as he carried out a slightly faster pace.

“Yeah! You’ve got it,” Y/N beamed before her hands went to bump his arms up, “and you’ve gotta move those arms. It’s like fifty percent of looking like you know what you’re doing.”

Harry laughed before inquiring on turns, which Y/N roughly helped him get an idea of how to lead a turn. It took a while but Harry was a fast learner. Before too long he was comfortably leading her in a turn, but was confused when Y/N started laughing.

“What? What’d I do?” Harry asked as he searched her features for an answer.

“No, nothing,” Y/N calmed from her previous fit of laughter, “this song’s just funny. He’s talking about marrying a fish, or mermaid, I guess.”

“A mermaid?” Harry cracked a smile at the explanation.

“Yeah, and they have a baby with the face of an angel but the tail of a fish,” Y/N snickers, “but soldiers came one day and accused him of eating her for breakfast. Sorry, it’s not even funny, I don’t know why I’m laughing so much.”

“Of eating her?” Harry gaped before laughing along with Y/N, as his hold on her slips. “What have you got me dancing to, Y/N?”

“Some sick, true crime episode, apparently,” Y/N laughs before Harry grabbed Y/N’s hand.

“I can do a bit of salsa,” Harry smiled with excitement, “and by a bit, I mean a teeny tiny bit.”

“Okay, let’s see it,” Y/N responded as Harry had tried to get her into a ballroom hold, “oh, damn.”

“What?” Harry laughed down at Y/N.

“This is, like, a hold,” Y/N widened her eyes, a soft smile forming amidst her features.

“What’d you mean?” Harry inquired, confused by her phrasing.

“No, it’s just, I’ve never been in, like, a ballroom hold for salsa,” Y/N shrugged, “that’s professional ish.”

“Stop,” Harry rolled his eyes, “how’d you dance it, then?”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that, I’ve just never seen it danced like that, but you learn something new everyday,” Y/N reasoned before bouncing in place.

“Now, I’m embarrassed,” Harry huffed out a laugh, “all I know is you go back and forth.”

“No! M’sorry! Didn’t mean anything by it,” Y/N pleaded, pouting out her bottom lip.

“Oy vey,” Harry rolled his eyes, “you asked for it.”

“What do you mean? S’not bad! It’s a basic salsa step, that’s all you need,” Y/N shrugged as he led her in the little step he knew.

“Yeah, but you were doing way more in that video James showed,” Harry responded.

“Yeah, but that’s a bunch of fluff, mostly for show,” Y/N pursed her lips and shook her head before Harry attempted a turn. It was the wrong way, but Y/N wouldn't call him out on it.

“Sorry m’not a better dancer,” Harry feigned a whimper.

“Me, too,” Y/N joked as Harry gaped at her.

“Hey,” Harry droned out, his features showing a bit of offense as he furrowed his brows at her.

“M’only kidding,” Y/N giggled.

“I’m really trying,” Harry whimpered out, once again, feigning offense.

“Alright, then. I already said you’re a fine dancer, no?” Y/N teased, making Harry's eyes widen in surprise.

“Okay, little Miss Show Off, what else can you show me?” Harry asked.

“You’ve got a real mean streak, you know that?” Y/N replied.

“I’m a dream,” Harry said in a matter of factly tone. Neither had noticed that they had started simply swaying back and forth. The music had changed to something quite slow, and Y/N assumed they had wandered over another room. Y/N had gotten distracted by the view of the city before she turned to see Harry staring at her, a little smile taking over his features. Y/N had a moment where she believed she had to have been stuck in some sort of fever dream.

“What else did you wanna learn?” Y/N stammered, breaking eye contact with Harry.

“Eh, this is quite nice,” Harry shrugged as he pulled Y/N a little closer, “like dancing white people music with you.”

“Please,” Y/N cringed, shaking her head as she fought the urge to laugh, “I can’t believe I said that.”

“I thought it was funny,” Harry shrugged as he went to carefully dip Y/N

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would say I’m living an actual sappy, cheesy, fan fiction moment,” Y/N teased as Harry held her body up with a palm to her back.

“I cannot believe you’ve read that smut,” Harry shook his head, mockingly disapproval.

“Why would you jump to that conclusion? I could have been into that cottagecore stuff,” Y/N defended.

“What the fuck is cottagecore? What? Is it people that like to have sex in miniature cottages,” Harry furrowed his brows before yanking Y/N’s body back up to him, where the two were forced to bump noses. This had caused the two to burst into a fit of giggles, Harry reaching out to grab a hold of Y/N’s shoulders and ducking his head to make sure Y/N was alright.

+ + +

“S’this it?” Harry seemed to whisper as he had pulled up to Y/N’s home, her looking out the passenger window to see the familiar sight of her home.

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed as her fingers went to press on the little button that would release the buckle of her seatbelt. Harry and Y/N had stayed on the rooftop for a while longer than either had anticipated. So, when Jamie’s sleepy features had appeared, inquiring as to how the two were, Y/N had jumped up, slipping Harry’s blazer off her shoulders as she tried saying she was ready to leave.

“Sorry, guys, ’ve just had a long day,” Jamie hung her head, apologetically, before going to look at Harry, “you can always talk to her tomorrow.”

“Jamie,” Y/N nervously chuckled as she began folding Harry’s blazer to return to him.

“S’fine,” Harry waved away her attempts to return the piece of clothing, “you can give it to me the next time I see you.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N smiled as she hesitantly unfolded the blazer to slip back into, chuckling as she did so, “still warm.”

“Or you could drive her home,” Jamie droned, making Y/N’s eyes widen as her head whipped around to glare at Jamie, “you know... so you guys can keep talking. I didn’t want to interrupt your invigorating conversation about... what was it? Volcanoes on the moon?”

“They were a real thing,” Harry insisted, making Y/N smile and narrow her eyes at him, “but, yeah, if you want to head home now, I can drive her a little later.”

“See?” Jamie raised her eyebrows at Y/N before sticking her tongue out at her.

“Okay, well,” Y/N paused as she looked back at Harry, “only if you're sure.”

“Of course,” Harry seemed to sing along.

So, Jamie had made her way back to her vehicle as Harry and Y/N remained on the rooftop, continuing their random subjects of discussions. It hadn’t been long before Y/N had let out a yawn, and Harry insisted that he take her home before she fell asleep on the roof. It was a comfortable ride where Y/N would pipe up with random facts about her hometown as the passed different locations. Harry found it impossible when Y/N had told him the fortune cookie had been invented in San Francisco, but the way she spoke could definitely make him believe anything. He liked seeing her so animated about such random topics.

“Are you staying in town tonight? I really hope you’re not making the trip back tonight—even a flight’s like two hours, no?” Y/N cocked her head at Harry as he knuckled at his eye, one of his rings catching the moonlight and shining in Y/N’s eye.

“No,” Harry shook his head, “staying at a friend’s house and driving back tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Y/N nodded her head. She was a little disappointed. In all honesty, if he had said any different, she most likely would have tripped over her hormones to offer for him to spend the night at hers.

“S’fine, really. S’cold out,” Harry spoke lowly and held his palm out in protest as he saw her begin to peel off his blazer, once more.

“It’s not that far of a walk, really,” the apples of Y/N’s cheeks were prominent with the smile she gave him, “thanks... well, it was nice seeing you tonight.”

“It was nice seeing you, thank you for inviting me. I’ve not forgotten our dim sum date at that one place,” Harry pointed a finger at Y/N, accusingly, narrowing his eyes at her.

“No, of course not,” Y/N laughed off his casual use of the term “date,” as she felt her face heat up, “let me know when you’re in town, again.”

“No, you let me know when you’re available,” Harry shook his head as he looked out his windshield.

“Oh, so the ball’s in my court, now?” Y/N teased with a nod of her head.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “don’t get me wrong, s’a lovely town... but I don’t come here very often. Don’t know many people, here.”

“Oh, well, if L.A.’s easier,” Y/N began, before Harry chuckled.

“S’not what I meant. I know L.A. makes you nervous,” Harry shook his head at her, knowingly.

“I don’t know why,” Y/N scoffed, “I have to work there so often, but I just hate it. It doesn’t really feel like home, you know? Like I know a lot of people, but it’s not like they’re... I don’t know.”

“No, I get it,” Harry’s lips barely curved into a knowing smile, “d’ya mind terribly if I did something?”

“What?” Y/N questioned before Harry reached over to grab the side of her face in one of his warm palms before he carefully leaned in to connect their lips. She let out an odd noise, it was somewhere between a squeak of surprise and the beginning of sentence. Though it had taken her by surprise, she couldn’t help but smile at the taste of the sweet Jamaica he had slowly started warming up to. He had been the one to pull away, his eyes still closed when she opened hers.

“Sorry,” Harry dimpled, shaking his head, and at this proximity, Y/N could see the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes, “was that okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/N beamed as he finally opened his green eyes to stare into hers, both trying to read emotion on the other’s expression, “was lovely.”

“Yeah,” Harry slowly blinked at Y/N.

+ + +

The next day, ordinarily, would not have been anything special for Y/N. She had worked for a few hours and then had gotten to spend some time with some friends before returning to her home to tidy up. What had been different, though, and what had made all she encountered ask her why she seemed so happy that particular day had everything to do with Harry.

She had waken up to someone at her front door. It had scared her, at first. She hadn’t been expecting anybody so early. She had grabbed a sweater and slid her arms through the sleeves as she bounced down the stairs, brows furrowed as she ran her fingers through her hair, her fingers catching on the knots that had formed overnight. She had unlocked her phone to see who was standing at her doorstep, but had been confused as she saw an empty frame. She debated whether it was worth opening the door to check if whoever had rang the doorbell had rushed away. Something compelled her to do so, anyways. The door had swung open and something on her stoop’s little table captured her attention. There, on the little table, were white lilies wrapped in some brown paper, a little cup of hot liquid, and a small, familiar pastry bag. She knew who it was from judging by the little cup of hot chocolate she had told Harry about the night before. She looked up in time to see a car that resembled the one she rode in the night previously turn around her block.

Later that day, while she had been sorting through her Excel bill sheet on her laptop, her phone had rang out, making her look at the top corner of her screen for the message that had come through.

How was your morning?

Y/N smiled as she set her laptop aside and grabbed her phone. She hadn’t set Harry’s contact information up in her laptop, so it had read his phone number instead of the name she had assigned him in her phone’s contacts. A feeling stirred inside of her as she had the sudden urge to see his face. She wondered if it would be too much to FaceTime him... She had a habit of moving things along too quickly and falling too hard, too fast in the past. They had only just met, but he had been the one to bring her breakfast that morning, afterall...

😂 Was that you? Didn’t want to assume...

She bit her lip in anticipation as she watched the little gray bubble appear and disappear a few times. She was thankful she had disabled her read receipts in the past when the next message swooped in.

Good Gravy Miss Daisy. Hard one to woo, aren’t you, mate?

... don’t like that I used that phrase... please ignore :/

Y/N laughed out at the message that had come directly after the first. She could not believe he had actually took the time to type out the emoticon instead of just using the built in keyboard on his phone for emojis.

I wasn’t about to make an entire fool of myself! If I had thanked you earlier and it wasn’t you, I would have been mortified, you noodle!

A few moments went by, and nothing. Not even the little bubble she had seen the previous time. She had decided to lock her phone and get back to the task she had been doing, picking up her computer and setting it on her lap. She had gone through a few more bills before she looked down at her silent phone to her right. She frowned as her hands went to tie her hair up in a ponytail. She had just pulled the elastic off of her wrist to complete her ponytail when both her phone and her computer rang out. She instantly recognized the sound before she even saw the application pop up on her computer. She yelped out as she quickly tore out the elastic from her hair, and grimaced. She had probably damaged a few strands of hair for being so aggressive, but there was no way the ponytail had been as neat as she would want if she were to FaceTime with Harry. She knew she looked disheveled. She had been out and about with makeup all day. She knew the liner she had put on earlier that morning had probably smudged and transferred onto her lower lash line. She knew the lipstick she had rubbed onto her lips had probably left remnants in the cracks of her lips. She would have wanted a little more notice to be able to look presentable, at the very least. But if she had fixed all the things she had wanted, she would have missed her opportunity to accept Harry’s call. So, she figured letting her hair down would be good enough. It wasn’t long before she had clicked on the “Accept” button and had waited for the call to connect. The little sound that signaled a connection rang out and Harry’s features popped up on her little computer screen. Y/N wanted to squeal at how adorable the young man looked. He was in a gray hoodie, but his little curls poked out of the pulled hood. His lips seemed to glow compared to his puffy and soft, pale features—as if he might have just woken from a deep slumber.

“Sorry!” Harry seemed to be laughing, “is it too late? Figured you were responding to my messages...”

“No! No, I was just doing some... work,” Y/N shook her head as she made herself more comfortable on her couch.

“Oh, okay, good,” Harry nodded as he rubbed at his face, “and why’d you call me a noodle? What does that mean?”

“What? You’ve never been called a noodle?” Harry smiled at the laugh he had become so familiar with the previous day.

“Can’t say that I have,” Harry furrowed his brows.

“Ugh, that was like eighty percent of my childhood entertainment,” Y/N sighed as she tried not to look up at the little frame that showed what she looked like. She hoped she didn’t look too messy. “But thank you for breakfast! It was delicious.”

“What breakfast?” Harry furrowed his brows at her. Y/N widened her eyes at her screen. He had asked if she had gotten anything special earlier that morning. How could he not have left those flowers and food at her stoop? Who else would it have-

“M’joking,” Harry rolled his eyes, “sheesh.”

“I’m sorry! It’s been a long day... But thanks, just the same. And for the lilies! They were lovely. They definitely brightened up my office this morning. How’d you know they’re my absolute favorite?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at her computer screen that had displayed his features.

“Lucky guess,” Harry shrugged his shoulders through the lie. He had wanted to say that he knew, but knew that would most likely make Y/N feel compelled to ask how he had known if the subject hadn't been breached the previous day. He didn’t feel like explaining how he had basically been cyber stalking her a few months previous.

“Meanwhile, that bakery... you may’ve turned me onto something,” Harry widened his eyes.

“Did you actually go in?” Y/N questioned, her brows raising out of shock.

“Yeah,” Harry slowly responded, narrowing his eyes, “wait, why?”

“I mean,” Y/N laughed, “I just can’t imagine you... walking into a panaderia on Mission.”

“Why?” Harry seemed to pout.

“No reason,” Y/N shrugged, clearly finding the idea amusing, for some reason, “did you get what I was saying about the smell being other worldly, though?”

“Yeah,” Harry responded, defeated, “you’re right... it smells a lot warmer... or maybe sweeter? It just might be better than any other bakery I’ve stepped into.”

“It’s all the extra cholesterol they put into their bread,” Y/N joked, “did you get anything for yourself?”

“Yeah,” Harry responded, lifting his chin as he spoke, “eh, I got one of those pink concha things and the hot chocolate? The ch... champ... champ-”

“Champurrado?” Y/N smiled, thinking it absolutely endearing at how hard he was trying to pronounce the term.

“That’s it!” Harry smiled.

“So, what’d you think?” Y/N pressed.

“Eh, was too sweet for me,” Harry grimaced, his dimple making an appearance as he pursed his lips, “but I feel like if I hadn’t gotten it with coconut milk, I would get the appeal.”

“Coconut milk? No, way! You’ve gotta try the almond milk!” Y/N widened her eyes.

“I know, you told me last night, but I usually prefer coconut milk,” Harry commented, “suppose that’s what I get for not listening to you.”

“I may not know a lot, but I know my plant alternative milks,” Y/N perked up, “how bad was the aftermath of the concha?”

“God awful,” Harry scoffed, “I made the mistake of trying to eat it on the way home and it was everywhere. There’s still sugar all over my floor mats and the passenger seat.”

“Oh, no,” Y/N burst into laughter, “m’sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Harry calmed from his own laughter, “was worth it, all the same.”

“You’ll have to get something different, next time. There’s one with pumpkin filling that’s,” Y/N kissed her fingers, making Harry laugh out.

“I have to slow down,” Harry shook his head, “m’getting pudgy.”

“Nonsense, bread goes straight to the heart,” Y/N made a face as though what Harry said could never be imaginable, “besides, pumpkin’s healthy. There’ve actually been studies that it can help boost your immune system!”

“Okay, then, it’s settled,” Harry shrugged, “I’m only eating bread for the rest of my life, so long as it’s stuffed with pumpkin.”

“Sounds like an absolute dream; sign me up,” Y/N sighed out.

“How was your day? What did you do? Anything interesting?” Harry questioned.

“It was fine,” Y/N shrugged, “work and then dinner with friends. Nothing too crazy.”

“Anyone I know?” Harry wanted to take it back as soon as he the words escaped his mouth. He felt it a bit too intrusive, given the little that they knew of one another. He wondered if he had made things awkward, but Y/N seemed unfazed.

“Mm,” she she seemed to think of the answer, “I don’t think so. Not unless you know Michelle Kelvin?”

“Is she related to Maisie?” Harry wrinkled his nose at his screen.

“Yes! They’re second cousins... twice removed... or something weird,” Y/N laughed with a shake of her head, “but yeah! She was supposed to come with us, but couldn’t last minute.”

“She’s cool,” Harry smiled.

“She really is. She always remembers my birthday and sends me a little care package every year around Thanksgiving,” Y/N made that expression he noticed she did a lot. It was whenever she was endeared by something, she would pout out her lower lip, but looked as though she were smiling. He had looked over at his image to see he looked absolutely smitten with whatever it was he was speaking to and wanted to wipe the look off his stupid face.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded his head as he suddenly felt his cheeks start to burn, and he hoped it didn’t translate through to her screen, “she’s nice.”

“I wish I could be more thoughtful,” Y/N shook her head and Harry bit his tongue. He had wanted to comment on how she really was, based off of the stories he had heard from mutual friends. Rob had told him of his wife falling in love with this rare album that she couldn’t find anywhere, and after mentioning it once to Y/N, had found it in the mail a week later with a thank you note from Y/N for dinner. Another one of many anecdotes was how she had volunteered to pick up one his friend’s daughters from school when they couldn’t find anyone else and had brought chocolates and violets for the little girl because her name was Violet. It was after this encounter that Violet would fervently continue to ask for Y/N as a babysitter.

“How was the drive back?” Y/N had interrupted his silence.

“Was fine; got home earlier than expected,” Harry features brightened as his brows momentarily rose, “was able to watch that documentary with the pig thing.”

“Isn’t that crazy?” Y/N laughed, remembering how flabbergasted Harry been when she had told him of a documentary that had explained how researchers were working on facial recognition with pigs the night before.

“Freaky,” Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, “and those birds!”

“I know,” Y/N’s eyes widened as she gaped, "it’s kinda creepy.”

“Yeah! Like, who came up with that? Who was like, let me make some animals that know the weather better than these dense humans,” Harry continued to marvel, and all Y/N could really focus on was how grateful she was to be able to see this side of Harry. She had always dreamed up this imaginary persona that she felt matched up with what interviews and social media had portrayed of the male. But she had made up her mind that she liked this version much better.

+ + +

Y/N had gotten to Magda’s house pretty early—about 6 AM, to be exact. It had been tradition for about two years, now. Y/N had met Magda at a local bookstore when Magda had approached Y/N, asking about what the kids these days were reading. They had instantly bonded over their love and appreciation for classic novels—Jane Austen’s Emma, in particular. Ever since, the two had kept in close contact and Magda had become a sort of adoptive grandmother to Y/N. It had been when Y/N had voiced her yearning for some traditionally homemade tamales that Magda had voiced her proficiency in cooking the dish and had offered to make Y/N a batch as long as she brought over spirits and a good movie. It had become a monthly event, and this time, a newcomer was to be involved.

“So,” Magda beamed as she ferociously scrubbed at a big pot she kept hidden away until moments such as these, “what’s he like?”

“Harry?” Y/N raised her brows as she pulled apart some jackfruit.

“Yes,” Magda encouraged.

“He’s nice,” Y/N nodded and looked up to see Magda knowingly grinning, “s’pretty wonderful, actually.”

“Oh,” Magda gently nodded.

“He’s... I don’t know... thoughtful? Is it foolish to think that’s such a unique feature in a man?” Y/N shook her head.

“It’s a bit disappointing that more men aren’t described in such a way,” Magda shrugged and looked up as she twisted the handle of her faucet.

“That’s true,” Y/N nodded, vacantly looking ahead, “it’s just that... he makes me feel... heard?”

“Unheard of,” Magda teased.

“I know, right,” Y/N laughed, “but he looks into your eyes when you’re talking and... I don’t know... he makes you feel like you’re the only person he’d want to be talking to and as if... what you say actually matters to him. And it’s not just me! He does it with everyone I’ve seen him around... He’s very validating and surprisingly open minded.”

“You’re pretty open minded,” Magda noted.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “not as much as he is, I don’t think. He’s so accepting so long as there’s a good means to an end... if that makes sense. I don’t know, perhaps it’s just the fact that I’ve admired him for so long.”

Magda was about to respond when a knock came at the front door.

“Come in,” the two sang out in chorus before the sound of the doorknob being turned and the sound of the door being pushed open alarmed the two to Harry’s arrival.

“S’this a no shoes household?” Harry asked as he waited at the entrance for a response.

“It’s a whatever you prefer house,” Magda laughed as she looked over at Y/N, “s’very considerate.”

“I told you,” Y/N mumbled as she straightened in her chair.

“Thank you for asking, lovey,” Magda beamed as Harry quietly made his way into the kitchen.

“Oh, s’no problem,” Harry piped up as Y/N turned to smile at him from her stool set at the kitchen island. “Hi,” came Y/N’s greeting before Harry went to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Morning,” Harry almost seemed to mumble as he grinned down at her before remembering the two weren’t alone, “you must be-”

“Magda,” the older woman rubbed her palms on the little apron Y/N had gifted her about a year previously, “so nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Thank you so much for having me,” Harry approached where the woman stood before extending his hand.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” Magda shook her head, “we love having new friends over and cooking for them. It’s such a nice way to show your appreciation for someone, you know?”

Y/N felt her cheeks burn as she knew Magda most likely meant nothing by the statement, but it somehow felt too intimate for Harry to know she appreciated him.

“Completely agree,” Harry nodded his head, still holding onto Magda’s hands.

“Oh, honey, you were right,” Magda called over her shoulder to a clueless Y/N.

“About what?” Y/N scrunched her nose.

“He does make you feel heard,” Magda actually giggled, making Y/N softly chuckle behind the two.

“She’s talking about me? What else has she said?” Harry raised his brows before smirking over at Y/N.

“Magda, did you see where I put the peppers?” Y/N pretended not to hear him as she feigned searching for what she had requested.

“Don’t want you thinking I’m only here to freeload your food. What can I do to help?” Harry turned back to meet Magda’s already adoring gaze.

“Y/N,” Magda gasped before turning to see Y/N’s confused features, “marry this man.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Y/N stated after her initial shock and embarrassment, “you two would be a much lovelier little couple.”

“Oh, hush,” Magda rolled her eyes as she pushed past Harry to grab a hold of the peppers Y/N had supposedly misplaced, “here are your precious missing peppers.”

In no time at all, Magda and Harry had finished making the maza. Magda made a big deal out of how big Harry’s hands were, saying that he was born to knead the dough-like substance that would carry the faux meat they made their tamales with. This, of course, had elicited a small anecdote of how Harry had once worked in a bakery when he was younger, back home. The two had then proceeded to bond over missing their respective homelands and it wasn’t long before Harry was inviting Magda over whenever she felt like a visit and vice versa.

“So, I’ve seen some with like... a different wrapper? Like paper, almost?” Harry furrowed his brows.

“Those are made with corn husks,” Y/N nodded her head as the three worked on loading the ingredients of a tamale into a banana leaf.

“Ah,” Harry seemed to nod in realization, “so how different will these taste? Will they taste like banana?”

“No,” Magda responded with a shake of her head, “it just makes it more... more...”

“Succulent?” Y/N voiced.

“Yes,” Magda nodded, “tender. I tend to think the corn husk tamales can get a little dry, so I like using the banana leaf to give it a little kick.”

“Huh,” Harry nodded, “how many are we shooting for?”

“A lot,” Magda laughed, “we’ll be here all day, lovey. We don’t expect you to hang around all day with us.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry shrugged with a little smile on his face.

“Well, be warned, this one likes making hundreds to give to the friendly... and not so friendly,” Magda grinned as she elbowed Y/N.

“Oh my gosh, don’t bring that up or he’ll never come back here, again,” Y/N tried to refrain her laughter.

“What? Why?” Harry furrowed his brows as he looked between the two laughing friends.

“Y/N likes to go around town to give some to people in need of a good meal,” Magda beamed over at her long time friend, “but this one time-”

“You can’t let this change the way you see San Francisco, though,” Y/N pleaded as she stopped her handwork to look over at an already amused Harry.

“No, of course, not! Harry’s a good boy; he wouldn’t think of it,” Magda shook her head before proceeding, “anyways, nothing bad has really come from it... except for this one time. This one man that was sleeping on the sidewalk and this one goes up to hand him a few tamales when he wakes up, screaming! He had a syringe in one of his hands and charged at her. So this one starts running, and he ended up chasing her to the car!”

“What?” Harry’s eyes bulged out of his skull upon hearing this tale, searching both the female’s features for some sort of validation.

“He couldn’t really run... so I wouldn’t say he chased me, exactly,” Y/N frowned.

“No, honey; he chased you,” Magda shook her head, “but, anyways, she’s not allowed to approach strangers alone, now. We have another good boy that accompanies us when we want to distribute these bad boys around town.”

“You still go?” Harry gaped, ignoring the tinge of jealousy that had bubbled up within him as he wondered who would accompany the two and if he thought the world of Y/N like he did.

“Oh, yeah,” Magda assuredly nodded.

“That’s wild,” Harry shook his head. It was another one of those moments. Another moment where he could feel his heart swell with an emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint for Y/N. He wanted to say it was admiration, because what else could it be after such a story. Somewhere deep inside, he knew better.

Harry had kept his promise, he had stayed pretty much all day. He had helped the two make enough tamales to last a lifetime, or in this case, enough to feed the entire city. When it came time to try them, Y/N had nervously told him it was okay if he didn’t like them while Magda assured him that he would love them and was right. He could not believe the texture and taste that he had earlier been wary about. Magda was insistent on replacing each tamale that he consumed, which had proven detrimental to his physical comfort. After about four, he started to feel pretty weighed down. Luckily, to wash it all down, Magda had made a pitcherful of Jamaica because she knew how much Y/N liked it. Harry’s features had brightened so much that it sent Magda into a fit of laughter at the mention of the beverage. It had been a nice little end to their day—to enjoy the labors of their hard work.

Magda had loaded a few dozen tamales into some cute little Tupperware with ducks on them and had instructed him on the ease of freezing the dish if he wanted to save them for a later date. He knew this wouldn’t be necessary, as he knew he would be attempting to act in Magda’s and Y/N’s image and distribute them. It was after Magda had hugged and kissed him on the cheek that he was led out to the front of the house by Y/N.

“Thank you for coming today,” he was met with Y/N’s sleepy smile as he turned from stepping through the front door and down a step, “hope we didn’t work you too hard.”

“Not at all,” Harry shook his head as he went to hug Y/N’s abdomen, “liked it. I think Magda may be the love of my life.”

“Mine, too,” Y/N’s smile deepened.

“You sure you don't want a ride home?” Harry inquired, pouting out his bottom lip the way she had a few nights previously.

“Nah,” Y/N shook her head with a shrug of her shoulders, “thank you. You know the offer still stands if you’re too tired to drive. Believe me, Magda will be more than happy to have you stay here tonight.”

“I think I’m okay,” Harry stated with a little nod of his head, “have to feed Matt’s cat.”

“Right,” Y/N shook her head, “forgot.”

“Get some sleep,” Harry pulled Y/N in to kiss the wrinkle between her brows away, “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

All Y/N could do was nod in her tired state.

“Yeah?” Harry seemed to bump his body into her own to get a response.

“Yeah,” Y/N laughed.

“Good,” Harry dimpled with satisfaction before going to press his lips to Y/N’s.

+ + +

“What are you doing?” Came the voice on Y/N’s speaker. She had been thrown across her couch, making endless loops with some yarn and two knitting needles.

“Knitting, watching Princess Diaries, and mourning the death of my youth,” Y/N rambled, as she ended one row of stitches to look over at her television screen.

“Oy. The first or second one?” Harry questioned as Y/N went back to her stitches.

“The one with Chris Pine,” Y/N wiggled her brows to herself.

“Ooh, what a dreamboat,” Harry sang out, making Y/N laugh out.

“He is quite nice to look at,” Y/N commented with a sigh.

“I suppose—if you’re into that tall dark and handsome type,” Harry quickly snapped, Y/N’s brows furrowing. Was there a tinge of jealousy in his tone?

“I mean,” Y/N reasoned, “I guess I kinda am.”

“Well,” Harry cleared his throat, “just feel like you wouldn’t have much in common with him.”

“Why? I think we’d make a good match,” Y/N frowned as she paused her actions once more.

“He’s an old man! Already has salt n’pepper hair,” Harry rebuked.

“S’kinda hot, though,” Y/N shrugged to herself.

“You little weirdo. What are you doing this Saturday? Thought we could go get some dim sum,” Harry suggested.

“Eh,” Y/N sucked in her lips as she seriously considered canceling her plans to hang out with Harry, “I have a wedding thing this weekend. Starts on Thursday; s’one of those three day weddings with the bachelorette party, rehearsal dinner, yada yada yada.”

“Oh,” came a pause from Harry’s end, “that sounds fun. S’it in town?”

“No; it’s in L.A.,” Y/N explained, “are you free on Sunday?”

“Oh... yeah,” Harry’s tone sounded odd but she didn’t want to question it; she felt it too soon in their relationship (if you could even call it that) to inquire, “yeah, d’you wanna try something here?”

“Yeah, what would you recommend?” Y/N asked as she finished another row of stitches.

“There’s this great sushi place in Malibu, if you’re up for that,” Harry suggested, “or there’s a good Indian place around the corner.”

“Ooh, you said sushi and my mouth already started watering,” Y/N laughed.

“Sushi it is, then,” Harry chimed.

+ + +

Y/N had been pretty tuckered out as she sat at a little round table, alone, watching everybody around her seeming to be having the time of their lives. Her feet had started aching from the heels she had slipped into at the beginning of the day, her hair had long sagged in the deliberately messy bun she had styled her hair in, and her chest had expanded and collapsed pretty jaggedly as she caught her breath from her friend, Angie, twirling her around the dance floor. It was when she was laughing at the drunken groom trying to lead his bride in a simple turn that she noticed her phone light up her open clutch. Normally, she wouldn’t have checked the notification, but something told her it may be the boy she had been talking to as of late.

She had posted a photo much earlier of the bride placing her veil over Y/N as she was digging into her pasta entree, snapped by the same Angie that had been twirling her earlier. Y/N found Harry had reacted to the photo and sent a message.

That looks fucking amazing. How do you feel about pasta instead, tomorrow??

p.s. you look really pretty 

Y/N couldn’t help the huge smile that came across her features as she peered down at the message. She had been typing out a little response when somebody had plopped down next to her.

“What happened to no phones?” Alex, one of Y/N’s oldest companions narrowed his eyes at her.

“I’m just checking in on something,” Y/N laughed as she hastened typing out her message.

“Absolutely not,” Alex grabbed a hold of Y/N’s phone and tucked it in his pocket.

“Alex!” Y/N gasped as she plunged for the device.

“You're missing Michael trying to seduce Paul,” Alex nodded towards some of their friends laughing at a slightly tipsy male.

“What else is new?” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Last year he tried that with you and was horrified when you actually locked lips.”

“Somehow that boy forgets that I’m a raging homosexual every year, and I’m sick of it,” Alex shook his head, “I will give this back to you if you come shake what the good Lord gave you for an entire song.”

“Alex,” Y/N started before he gave her a glare.

“We haven’t danced one song together and you’ll be heading home soon, I know it,” Alex pouted.

“Okay,” Y/N gave in, knowing she could finish her message to Harry afterwards.

“C’mon, girl,” Alex reached out his hands for Y/N to take. She could only laugh as he led her over to the dance floor before he had dropped into a squat to one of the last notes of a Saweetie song before a salsa blasted over the speakers.

“Aw,” Alex groaned before he stood to his full height.

“You said,” Y/N began, more teasing, if anything.

“I know what I said,” Alex rolled his eyes as he proceeded to take Y/N’s hands, once more, before leading her into a turn. It wasn’t long before Michael, another companion, had whipped out his phone and had gone around tormenting people with his flash video recording. A few dancing couples had shoved their hands in front of the camera lens before he had approached Alex and Y/N. Alex had seen the camera pointed at them and had pulled Y/N to him before he had dipped Y/N and pulled her back up, before going to peck at Y/N’s lips. Y/N had thought nothing of the video as she laughed and went to hug Alex as he shouted something at Michael’s giggling features. The two had known each other for years and a peck here and there was the norm between the two companions. Y/N had not thought of any repercussion. She did not think there might have been a certain male laying in his bed, the glow of his phone’s screen illuminating his smiling features as he opened one of his friend’s Instagram stories to see the girl he had been talking to being pulled to some man’s chest before locking lips with him. She had not thought of how his little smile would fade as he kept tapping on the left side of his screen to replay the video—to replay the way she smiled and hugged onto the strange male’s body. No, Y/N hadn’t thought very much of how that might look.

+ + +

The next morning, Y/N was surprised to not hear from Harry. She had started getting ready, however, knowing Harry would eventually message her with an address, because he had promised to do so earlier that week. She had finished slipping on her shoes when she went to check her empty lock screen. The place they had settled on was about forty minutes away, and if she was to make the time they had initially agreed upon, she would have to leave any minute. She decided to send Harry the following:

Morning, sunshine! ☀️ We still meeting up for lunch?

She figured she could start on her journey. Even if Harry cancelled, which she didn’t foresee, she could just enjoy the drive, maybe get some coffee... She had been about fifteen minutes into her drive when her phone rang out. The message read out went something along the lines of:

Hey, something came up last minute. Can’t meet today, rain check?

Y/N couldn’t help but instantly feel a little blue as she responded.

Of course; hope everything is okay. Take care!

Harry did not respond to this message and Y/N thought it a little odd, but figured whatever had come up must have been important. Y/N had driven past Malibu and caught sight of a cafe on her way back. She figured she deserved a treat and had decided to pull in for some coffee and maybe dessert if they had anything good. She had been quickly seated and had been browsing the small menu when the sound of another party was alerted with the ding of the bell attached to the front door. Y/N had looked up out of habit and had thought nothing of the couple that had entered before she glanced back at the menu before realizing why one of them had looked so familiar. Trailing behind a pretty looking woman was the person she had originally had plans with that morning—one Mr. Harry Styles. Y/N hastily went to raise her menu to cover her face, praying that he hadn’t seen her. She couldn’t help but peek over the top of the menu as she watched the two follow a waiter to the outdoor seating just in front of her. Of all the coincidental instances she had encountered in her life, she couldn’t think of one more embarrassing than the one she sat in. Her shock and horror had slowly started to morph into discontent as she watched the two speak. It was clear that the female had more than platonic interests in Harry by the way she leaned forward, hanging onto every word that came from his lips... the same ones that had been pressed to hers not that long ago. She could not believe her eyes, and she suddenly felt as if she was going to be ill.

“Good morning! How are you?” Y/N’s view of Harry and his companion was suddenly interrupted by a tall woman that had stepped in front of Y/N’s seat.

“Oh, eh,” Y/N glanced at the menu, wondering how rude it would be to excuse herself. She had considered staying and watching the two, but she felt that would be an enormous invasion of Harry’s privacy... that and she couldn’t stand the idea of him seeing her—alone, at that. “I’m so sorry, I... I have to go.”

“Oh,” the waitress stepped back as she watched Y/N collect her things, “is anything wrong?”

“You have no idea,” Y/N sent a glance out to the terrace where Harry sat intently watching his companion speak, “s’nothing, sorry, thank you so much for your time and help.”

+ + +

Y/N hadn’t been back to the house she had been staying at for very long. She had arrived and had marched straight to the living room where she allowed herself to plop down to lay on the carpeted floor. As she stared up at the ceiling, she wondered why such a string of events had bothered her so much. She told herself again and again how she wasn’t jealous but peeved at the principle of canceling on her to see someone else... but she knew the green eyed monster was involved. She had absolutely no right to be jealous. She and Harry had just met, and he was allowed to see other people if he wanted to. It wasn’t as if she had committed to only seeing him, either. Nobody had asked her, but she was free to see other people. Oh, but she couldn’t get over how much she hurt over seeing him with someone else. It was something different to know he was seeing other people, but to actually see it? She felt positively icky. She had grabbed her phone in attempt to distract herself when she noticed a message that had been delivered a little while ago, most likely a few minutes after leaving the cafe.

Was that you?

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she stared at the message from the person that had been tying her stomach in knots. She locked her phone and laid the phone on her abdomen, not knowing if she wanted to reply. She almost never wanted to speak to him, again... but she knew she had no valid reason for it.

Where?

She had decided to play ignorant, as she wished he would leave her alone; at least for the time being. Didn’t he have that woman to entertain himself with?

Are you still in town? Fancy a visit?

Y/N couldn’t muster the energy for a visit. She couldn’t imagine how she could possibly refrain from asking who he had been with. So, she did something she wouldn’t normally do.

Did whoever came up get resolved? I’m actually heading back home today and I need to pack 😕 rain check?

Y/N wasn’t one to be petty or passive aggressive, but something about the situation had just rubbed her the wrong way. She had almost hoped that perhaps her message had deterred Harry’s friendship, and that she would never see him again. She wasn’t surprised when she did not receive a reply from the male and had went about her day, just a little bit more melancholy than she usually would have been leaving town.

+ + +

A few months had come and gone, and Harry would have liked to say that Y/N had become a distant memory, but that was nowhere near the case. He thought more about her than he would like to admit. He knew he had struck a nerve when he had gotten her last message, and had become slightly infuriated by it. How could she have been so snappy when he had been the one to reach out after she had been out locking lips with some random bloke? Sure, she had seen him out with one of the women that his friends had been trying to set him up with, but he had asked to see her, damn it. Wasn’t that enough of a gesture? He had been out with a few different people since, in attempts to forget the female, but it was all to no avail. How could anybody compare to the strange little person he had eaten so much food with on a rooftop all that time ago?

Nevertheless, he had continued seeing her in his friends’ posts. She looked good, as usual. Something so simply classic about the clothes she wore and her disposition in each snapshot. He had noticed in the past that she would never pose smiling, but as of late, she had smiled in almost all the photos he saw of her. He wasn’t sure why such a small detail had resonated with him. She had cut her hair and lightened it since the last time he had seen her. He wanted to believe she had done so because of him. He had read something about women changing their hair after meaningful relationships, but he didn’t want to flatter himself. It had been when he had been visiting an old friend and sipping on a glass of sauvignon blanc—it hadn’t been that good if he was being honest—that his friend had really thrown him for a loop.

“Have you seen this?” Andrew nodded at the title of the film he had landed on. Harry usually never had his phone out when visiting good friends, but he had been waiting on a message from his sister. He had looked up from his messages to find, to his surprise, Y/N’s face staring back at him.

“S’this new?” Harry mumbled, still staring at Y/N’s features. She had been looking straight into the camera when the photo had been taken, and from the look of her surroundings, it looked like some sort of 60s mystery film.

“Says it was released this year,” Andrew shrugged, “don’t you know her or something?”

“Not really,” Harry cleared his throat, “looks stupid.”

“Stupid?” Andrew furrowed his brows at Harry.

“What?” Harry glared over at him.

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that word,” Andrew grinned.

“Well, it does, doesn’t it?” Harry nervously laughed, feeling a tinge of guilt creep over him.

“S’got that guy from X-Men in it... Think she looks nice,” Andrew shrugged as he took a drink from his glass, “wouldn’t mind if I made a pass?”

“A pass,” Harry scrunched his nose, “won’t get very far with that kind of thinking.”

“Alright, mate,” Andrew rolled his eyes as he continued scrolling through the streaming service, “I get it.”

“Well, there’s nothing to get,” Harry shook his head, “didn’t mean anything by it; go for it.”

+ + +

“Magda?” Y/N had called from the older woman’s kitchen. She had let herself in with the key that Magda had made for her and had worried when she could’t find the lady on the lower level of her home. “M’up here, lovey,” Magda hollered from the second floor of her home.

“Sorry, m’late,” Y/N vocalized as she treaded up the stairs before finding Magda sat on the floor, kneeled atop a gargantuan white canvas with paint splatters here and there. There was the outline of a young woman’s face ever so slightly traced out from what Y/N could see.

“No, no, honey! You're fine,” Magda shook her head as she looked up from the piece, making Y/N smile at some stray smeared paint across the older woman’s forehead, “eh... the books are over there on that chair over there, if you want to take ‘em today.”

“Oh, thanks,” Y/N glanced over her shoulder before going to look back at the painting, “this is huge.”

“Uh, yeah,” Magda seemed to nervously chuckle as she wiped her hands on her overalls. Y/N noticed the elder was avoiding making eye contact with her as she kept looking down at the painting or at her hands.

“Who’s it for? You never do projects this big unless someone’s hanging it in the Guggenheim or donating a pretty penny,” Y/N commented as she walked around the canvas edges to get to the chair Magda had pointed out earlier. All Magda could do was offer another nervous chuckle as she went to push some straggle hairs from her face. Y/N could sense the awkward air between her and the woman she came to trust like she trusted her own mother.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Y/N shook her head, feeling her cheeks burn out of an embarrassment she couldn’t pinpoint.

“No,” Magda went to shake her own head as she let out a heavy sigh, “no. You’re not prying, honey. I’m the one that’s making the situation awkward... Um... It’s... it’s for Harry.”

Y/N could not find words at the mention of his name. She didn’t know why she felt so bothered... so betrayed. There was no reason that Magda could not speak to Harry. She really didn’t even know the circumstances surrounding Y/N’s broken communication with him. All Magda knew was that they weren’t speaking, and Y/N knew it was silly to feel so deeply about her contact with the person that had wounded her pride a while back... but Magda was family. Shouldn’t that count for something? Y/N sure wouldn’t be friendly with somebody Magda had shunned, which would be impossible because Magda didn’t believe in holding grudges.

“Oh,” Y/N finally choked out, nodding her head as she broke eye contact with Magda to pick up the books that had been set on the chair she had been earlier directed towards.

“If this bothers you, honey,” Magda began.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling as she sighed out, “it doesn’t. I’m being silly.”

“It’s just... he came by last week to make tamales,” Magda began, making Y/N’s head jerk up to meet her gaze, “he said he knew you were taking that trip and wanted to ensure that we didn’t break tradition. And he got a glance of some of the work I did when I was younger and he begged for me to make him something and that he’d pay whatever I asked, and I said I would do it if he donated to this stem cell research fund I’ve been working with, and he said he’d be thrilled, and I just couldn’t say no to such a generous donation and-”

“You don’t have to... justify it,” Y/N shook her head, “I’m sorry. I... I’m just being... childish, and... I guess I’m still sore at him for being so... I don’t know. I’m just happy you got such a big donation.”

“Look, he didn’t tell me what happened,” Magda shrugged her shoulders after a pause came between them, “but whatever it was... he’s moved past it.”

“That’s good,” Y/N tightly smiled as she opened the book that was on the top of the stack.

“If you don’t want me to do it,” Magda offered before Y/N shook her head once more.

“Do it,” Y/N nodded, “please. Don’t pay any attention to me; I’m just being... it doesn’t matter. I think you should do it.”

“Are you sure?” Magda pressed, her eyes searching for her answer in Y/N’s eyes.

“Of course,” Y/N nodded.

+ + +

Y/N had had a few. She wasn’t stumbling or slurring her words, but she was feeling quite toasty. She had been invited to some party, some celebration for someone she didn’t know and had been delighted for some excuse to get all gussied up and have drinks with some friends... Friends that had disappeared about thirty minutes after their first drink, but that was no worry. Y/N had soon found some drunken girl that had globbed onto her after claiming she looked better than Naomi Campbell did on the 1995 Chanel spring runway. It hadn’t taken too long for the two to find a permanent dancing partner in each other as the two had clasped hands as they sang along to almost all the songs that had blasted over the speakers. They had just finished shouting lyrics to one another before the girl yelled something about having to go back to her friends.

“You should come with me, I have this really cute friend who’s single and ready to fuck whoever crosses his path,” Glenda, Y/N’s new drunken friend, droned.

“Okay, but food first! I’m starved! You want anything?” Y/N yelled over the music before Glenda asked for a shot before pointing to where a group of her friends were sat. Y/N didn’t think much as she loaded her plate with the cucumber salad she had been eyeing all night. There hadn’t been too much food for her, most all dishes had featured some animal product, but she wasn’t one to complain too much about it. She debated whether she should make her way back to the table she had originally been sat at to see if any of her friends were there, but she liked meeting new people and had a strange goal for taking the opportunity to make new friends. So, she had forced herself over to where the girl had plopped down, Glenda’s eyes lighting up at the sight of the shot glass in Y/N’s other hand.

“Thanks, girl!” Glenda beamed as Y/N handed her the glass.

“How’s the cucumber salad?” Came a familiar tone from the other side of the table. Y/N wished she had just gone to sit alone at the table she had originally been sat at, even if that meant she would be alone.

“Hey, Harry,” Y/N smiled as she shoveled a fork full of cucumber into her mouth.

“This is my friend I was telling you about,” Glenda grabbed at Y/N’s arm with excitement, wiggling her eyebrows, suggestively.

“Ah,” Y/N laughed, remembering Glenda’s words about her cute, promiscuous friend.

“What were you telling her?” Harry’s words were drowned out by the man next to him rising to make his way over to where Y/N had been.

“M’Andrew,” the man stuck his hand out for Y/N to take.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N smiled as she juggled to hold her cucumber salad bowl in one hand and shake the male’s with her other, “Y/N.”

“We were just talking about you the other day,” Andrew leaned closer to Y/N’s ear.

“Really? Why?” Y/N furrowed her brows.

“Your movie came up while we were browsing on Netflix,” Andrew smiled, “and Harry, here, had nothing but good things to say about you.”

“That’s nice,” Y/N smiled at Harry before turning back to speak to the male that had approached her.

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. He had legitimately thought Andrew was kidding that day; he didn’t think he would have to sit and watch his friend talk up the girl that he had been so invested in a few months previously. He did tell him to “go for it,” but it still felt wrong. He hated the way she smiled at him and seemed to tune out everyone else to pay attention to what he had to say. Harry knew Andrew, he didn’t have much interesting to say. He hated how sour his mood had suddenly become as he watched them over the rim of the glass he had raised to his lips. He knew it was unhealthy, but he couldn’t help but to start comparing himself to Andrew. He was a little taller than he was, but wasn’t that nice... He had to refrain his jaw from dropping as Andrew extended his open palm for Y/N to take before Andrew led her to the dance floor. He had lost visual on them and he couldn’t help what happened next.

“Glenda,” Harry seemed to bark.

“Yeah?” She innocently responded, furrowing her brows at Harry’s fixated features. He had nodded towards the crowd of people dancing, causing Glenda to squeal with delight. None of their friends had danced with her all night, or had danced, period. Harry didn’t get why they would go to a party just to sit and try to talk over loud music, as he usually enjoyed dancing around a few bodies after a few drinks and had even taken Glenda out a for a few songs, but he had lost interest pretty quickly on the dance floor as a pretty girl had been sat back with his friends. In any event, it was with great force that Glenda had pulled his arm as she led him to the dance floor where a bunch of bodies had been dancing to a Drake song. It was coincidental that Glenda had led him to where Y/N and Andrew had been dancing. Y/N had noticed him, but Harry acted the ignorant. He couldn’t help but become distracted by Glenda when she had started spanking him before he turned to dance along to the music with her. It was a bit hard for Harry to watch what was happening with Y/N and Andrew as they had been dancing behind him. He had tried turning Glenda so that he could get a better view, but it had not worked as she would shimmy back to their original positions. He would occasionally make a big show of making a turn, but it was more purposeful than anybody could really know. A song Harry didn’t recognize came on and Glenda screamed and pointed behind Harry, at who he had assumed was Y/N. Harry hoped to God he wouldn’t turn around to see anything too jarring between her and Andrew; he didn’t think he could handle that. Thankfully, though, Glenda had pushed past him as she went to grind on Y/N’s tummy, making him laugh as Y/N had raised her bowl and kept eating her cucumber salad and allowing Glenda to keep grinding on her. If Y/N hadn't been involved, Harry might have gone back to the table and people watched. However, Y/N was involved, and she was giggly and cute, and he had missed her. So, he stayed and danced alongside Andrew before Glenda stopped grinding her rear on Y/N and turned to look at Harry, a grin playing at her features. He knew she would try to do the same to him, and he couldn’t have that in front of Y/N. So, he took the initiative to turn and rub his back on Glenda, earning a few cat calls from her as she grabbed a hold of his hips and tried to shake them. All Harry could do was laugh as he turned back around to grab her hands so he could turn her.

“Wait, I’m gonna puke!” Glenda sobbed as she grabbed on Harry’s forearm.

“Oh, no,” Harry frowned as his arm slipped around her back, trying to support her as her fist went to her mouth.

“I’ll take care of it,” Andrew rolled his eyes as he grabbed a hold of Harry’s shoulder as he spoke into his ear, “this one hasn’t stopped looking at you.”

“Maybe I should take her,” Y/N yelled, as she went to grab at Glenda.

“No, s’okay! You stay and dance with Harry,” Andrew shouted as he took a hold of a woozy Glenda.

“It’s fine, I can take her,” Y/N shook her head.

“I’m gonna take her outside for some fresh air,” Andrew explained. Y/N looked over at Harry, and he somehow knew she was worried about Glenda’s safety with the male she had just met. Harry knew even with his reassurance, Y/N would still have been worried.

“I’ll take her, s’fine,” Harry yelled as he grabbed a hold of Glenda’s arm and started for the door.

“M’sorry,” Glenda continually apologized as the two made their way out of the building.

“S’okay,” Harry rubbed at the female’s back as the two stepped out into the breezy night air. It wasn’t long before Glenda had retched into a nearby shrub, Harry holding her hair for her as he tried not to look at the sick coming out of her mouth.

“Oh, good!” Came a voice from behind him, making him look over to see Y/N hurrying toward them with Abby, one of the friends he had been sat with.

“I’ll take her home,” Abby sighed once the two met Harry, “I’m tired, anyways.”

“Glenda, I have your jumper,” Y/N commented as she held out the sweater in front of her, “ooh, s’cute.”

“Thanks,” Glenda laughed as she stood to her full height, fisting the corner of her mouth before Y/N helped her into the piece of clothing.

“C’mon, Glen,” Abby rolled her eyes as Harry passed Glenda to Abby.

“Can you get her to the car?” Y/N doubtfully asked.

“Oh, absolutely,” Abbie nodded, “this happens every weekend. I would have a gold medal if it was a sport in the Olympics.” “Oh, okay, then,” Y/N smiled as she rubbed Glenda’s arm, “s’nice meeting you.”

“You too, girl,” Glenda lazily smiled, “did I get any puke on you this time, Abby?”

“No,” Abby sighed as she looked down at her heels, “not yet.”

“You okay to drive?” Harry inquired.

“I’ve been dry for a year, now,” Abby furrowed her brows at Harry.

“S’right, sorry,” Harry shook his head, wearily.

“S’alright. Well, was nice meeting you, Y/N. We’ll do this again, yeah? Well, hopefully not the whole puking thing,” Abby laughed.

“Of course,” Y/N smiled as her fingers went to tuck her hair behind her ear, Abby and Glenda turning to make their way to their car.

“You two have a good night,” Abby sang before continuing to lead Glenda to her car. 

There came a moment where Harry and Y/N stood still, Y/N watching Glenda and Abby as Harry watched Y/N. After watching her sigh, Harry had been caught staring as she turned to look up at him.

“What?” She innocently questioned.

“You hungry?” He asked, his mouth only slightly smiling at her.

+ + +

“Here ya go,” a tall brunette waiter had set two waters and laminated menus on the table Harry and Y/N had been seated at before turning on his heel to leave the two.

“How’d you know about this place?” Harry asked as he picked up one of the menus and glanced over the options.

“Oh, uh, my dad and I used to come here every year for one of his work meetings,” Y/N answered.

“For his work meetings?” Harry’s brows pressed towards his hairline.

“Yeah; he was in this like... society of engineers... Basically a bunch of geeks getting together every few months to talk about quantum physics or something along those lines... We’d always get in so late on the first day and we’d be starving, but there were never a lot of places open. This place always was, though,” Y/N smiled as she looked around the room, “we would never run out of conversation here, even though we had spent the entire day in silence on the way up here. S’weird. Haven’t been here in a while.”

“Why not? Does your father live far away? You don’t bring him here anymore?” Harry innocently asked.

“It’d be kind of hard for him since he’s passed away,” Y/N smiled. If it had been anyone else, Harry would have thought the comment a bit snippy. For some reason, he felt she was trying to make a joke of it. For his sake; he didn’t know.

“Oh, m’sorry,” Harry offered his condolences before being met by a short pause.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that,” Y/N’s smile softened before she shook her head and went to look at the menu to change the subject, “they have excellent spring rolls here.”

“Sorry to say it, but I can’t stand them,” Harry narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

“Oh, me, either,” Y/N laughed as she put her menu down, “I ate too many once and threw them up. I can’t eat them, but I appreciate them.”

“Ah, that’s valid. I just hate basil,” Harry shrugged as he stole another glance at her. He felt nervous, all of a sudden. He hadn’t felt nervous on the drive over, or when Y/N had to scoot closer to him while waiting to be seated because the entrance was small and a couple needed more space to exit the establishment. He hadn't been nervous when he got the chance to catch a whiff of her hair to find though she changed her hair, she still used the shampoo that left it smelling so nice. “You’ve changed your hair.”

“Hm? Oh,” Y/N pursed her lips as her palms went to flatten her hair, “yeah... it looks weird.”

“I like it,” Harry commented, without looking up from his menu.

“These bangs are a bit much,” Y/N sighed out as she allowed her elbows onto the edge of the table, her chin going to rest in the palm of her hand.

“I think it looks great,” Harry furrowed his brows.

“M’not... fishing for compliments or anything,” Y/N shook her head.

“Know that,” Harry nodded, “just think you look really good.”

“Oh,” Y/N’s lips barely smiled, “thanks.”

“What else do you recommend, because everything looks good to a person that hasn’t eaten since breakfast,” Harry sighed.

“Their burger’s scrummy,” Y/N suggested, “you can get either fries or these really great avocado fries... they also have this amazing pad thai.”

“Pad thai and burgers? Am I wrong to be a little nervous?” Harry looked up at Y/N, doubtfully.

“I mean, yeah,” Y/N laughed before shrugging her shoulders, “but I think great things come from things that make you nervous.”

“Alright, alright,” Harry sucked in his lips, “but if it’s not, you owe me another dinner date.”

“Oh, this isn’t a dinner date,” Y/N shook her head.

“It isn’t?” Harry questioned from behind his menu.

“No, at least, not like that,” Y/N shook her head as she went to sip from the water that had been set before them earlier.

“Like what?” Harry cocked his head at Y/N.

“You know,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“No, I don’t know. Clue me in,” Harry stated before grabbing his own glass and sipping water from it. For some reason, Y/N could not take the way he peered at her over the rim of his glass and had to break eye contact—such an innocent thing felt much too intimate.

“Never mind,” Y/N shook her head.

“No, now I want to know,” Harry smirked, “now that I think about it, Andrew did say something about you not being able to take your eyes off of me tonight.”

“Oh, did he?” Y/N’s brows rose, her lips curling into a smile.

“I mean, my arse does look really good in these pants,” Harry spoke before shaking his head and bursting into laughter, “please forget that I said that.”

“No,” Y/N laughed, “that will live rent free in my mind forever.”

“Fine with me,” Harry calmed from his fit of laughter, “so long as you tell me what you meant before.”

The two were interrupted when the handsome waiter from before came by to take their order. Harry fought the jealousy that started creeping in when the waiter started blatantly flirting with Y/N in front of him. He had no right to be jealous about someone that didn’t belong to him. It wasn’t long before he had finally left them with one last "my dear” being thrown at Y/N.

“So?” Harry pressed. “What?” Y/N asked out of confusion as to what Harry was referring to.

“What’d you mean? Why isn’t this a date?” Harry questioned.

“Oh, sorry to disappoint, but that topic is closed, my friend,” Y/N emphasized, hoping he would get the hint.

“Friend?” Harry’s teasing mood turned somber.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, trying to hide her own disappointment.

“Alright, then,” Harry sighed in defeat as he twiddled his fingers, “how’d you know Glenda?”

“I don’t,” Y/N shook her head as she looked up from her clasped hands before her.

“Then how,” Harry trailed off, his brows pinched together.

“We only just met tonight,” Y/N explained.

“Huh,” Harry voiced with a slow nod of his head, “so, what’d she tell you about me?”

“Why’d you wanna know?” Y/N knowingly grinned and Harry knew he was done for.

“Dunno,” Harry shrugged as his gaze dropped back down to his glass, “was just curious.”

“Alright, then,” Y/N sighed, looking up to the ceiling as if doing so would help her recall what Glenda had said any better, “said you were really cute.”

“That’s not so bad,” Harry breathed out a sigh.

“You sound relieved,” Y/N commented, narrowing her eyes at the male.

“Do I?” Harry innocently questioned.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded.

“Hm,” Harry’s brows rose and fell as he went to take another drink from his water.

“’Course she also told me you were ready to fuck whoever crossed your path,” Y/N nonchalantly spoke, resulting in Harry choking on his sip of water. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh out as she reached for a napkin to hand him.

“She did no such thing,” Harry’s response was muffled as he wiped his mouth.

“I know what I heard,” Y/N spoke with a nod of her head, “and she specifically said-”

“I got it the first time, thanks,” Harry interrupted, his skin turning crimson red.

“Oh, there’s no shame in it,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “must be fun.”

“M’not like that, usually... you know that,” Harry furrowed his brows.

“Yeah,” Y/N’s laughter softened, “also said you were single.”

“What happened to friends, huh?” Harry grinned.

“I,” Y/N’s jaw dropped before laughing out, “I was just saying. I was trying to distract from your embarrassing ass comment.”

“Uh huh, okay. Sure,” Harry narrowed his eyes at Y/N, “what about Andrew?”

“What about him?” Y/N’s laughter converted into a small smile as she looked at her finger running across the table.

“What’d you think of him?” Harry was met by a shrug from Y/N. “Don’t seem too impressed.”

“He’s nice, but I didn’t really get to talk to him that much,” Y/N explained.

“Ah,” Harry nodded, “well, don’t think you’d like him very much for too long.”

“Why?” Y/N questioned, furrowing her brows.

“He’s no good at it,” Harry shrugged, nonchalantly.

“At what?” Y/N inquired, still clueless.

“At crocheting scarves for his nan, what else?” Harry rolled his eyes, Y/N still not understanding. “At it, Y/N.”

“Oh,” Y/N finally seemed to understand as her furrowed brows softened before her features scrunched up once more, “oh. Well, that’s crap. He’s kinda cute.”

“Well,” Harry shook his head, “all I’ve heard are complaints.”

“Unless you’ve bedded him, I don’t think you have the right to say,” Y/N cocked her head at Harry.

“Who says I haven’t?” Harry questioned.

“Mm, I don’t see him being your type,” Y/N scrunched her nose.

“My type? Who’d you think my type is?” Harry asked, hoping she would say something along the lines of herself.

“Hm,” Y/N closed one eye as the other looked up, “either a real man’s man, like a logger or something... or an old, handsome sugar daddy type.”

Harry couldn’t help the laugh that had come from his belly at her words.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Y/N smiled, knowingly.

+ + +

It hadn’t been too late by the time Y/N had trudged through her front door, Harry trailing behind. She was happy to be home. Even with the short amount of time she was away, she missed her little home and the scent of potpourri mixed with the remnant aroma of that one Apple Toddy candle that never seemed to burn out. She had dropped her bag on the little bench she had by the door before bending over to undo the straps of her shoes.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Y/N spoke as she peered up at Harry to find him taking in his surroundings.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled as he looked down to see her pull off her heels and throw them beneath the little bench she had stopped by. After finishing his meal and having to voice how much he liked it to a knowing Y/N, Y/N had asked where Harry was staying. He had said he was staying at a friend’s house over an hour away, and Y/N couldn’t let him drive such a long distance so late in the night. It didn’t have to take much convincing for Harry to accept the offer, as he had wondered what the inside of her home looked like ever since dropping her off so many nights previously. 

“Lucky for you,” Y/N sighed out as she walked up the stairs that led to the main level of the home, “I bought a pajama set that was grossly mislabeled online; I think it’d fit you just fine!”

“Okay,” Harry laughed as he wondered where to put his shoes. She had tossed hers underneath that little bench, but there was a door to the side, which he assumed was a closet.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked from above.

“Eh,” Harry cleared his throat, “s’it matter where I put m’shoes?”

“Oh, no,” Y/N shook her head, “wherever’s fine.”

“Okay,” Harry said under his breath as Y/N disappeared out of sight. As Harry treaded up the steep stairs to the upper level, he was overwhelmed with the scent of cinnamon... maybe vanilla. He had smelled something wonderful upon entering her home, but it became much more warmer and sweeter when he stepped foot on the last step. He instantly thought he liked the layout of the small little home. Off to his right, there was a little living room that led out through siding doors onto a spectacular little balcony with a view of the city’s night lights twinkling in the distance. Straight ahead seemed to be a dark kitchen. To his left, a hallway was illuminated by a few plug in night lights. He thought better than to invite himself into her bedroom and had furthered into the living room. He had been peering down at a rug that he wished he could rub his bare toes against when nearing footsteps had made him turn to see Y/N approaching him.

“They’ve been tucked away for a while, but,” Y/N voiced as she looked up from the pajamas she held. Harry wondered why she had stopped in her tracks while Y/N thought how surreal it was to see Harry stood in the middle of her living room, toeing at the rug she had just purchased. “They should be pretty comfortable... at least it felt soft when I last tried it on.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled as he approached her, his hands going to take the pajamas from her hands. It was when he noticed her looking intently at his face that he worried something was wrong. Had she suddenly felt uncomfortable with him in her house? God, he hoped he didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. “S’everything alright?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” Y/N spoke softly as she seemed to snap out of whatever trance she had been in, “sorry.”

“What for?” Harry’s eyes seemed to search her own for the answer.

“I don’t know,” she smiled and shook her head. Her senses were suddenly overcrowded by what she assumed was his cologne—something between vanilla and ginger.

“Where can I change?” Harry asked as he looked behind her, towards the hallway she had come from.

“Uh,” Y/N shook her head once more, trying to regain her focus, “first door on the left.”

“Alright, thanks,” Harry smiled as his finger tips went to brush at her hand. The simple touch seemed to stay constant even when he passed her to retreat into the room she had instructed him to. She wondered if maybe he would just stay in her spare bedroom after changing into the pajamas she had provided. She padded into her kitchen to pour a glass of water as she looked out into the sea of yellow dots through her kitchen window. She had been slowly sipping on the liquid when she heard Harry approach her.

“Sleepy?” Harry asked as he lingered in the threshold separating the kitchen from the other rooms.

“Not really,” she lied.

+ + +

“Who’s Fabio?” Harry asked, pulling out another one of Y/N’s vinyls from the stand that also held her record player. Y/N had been laid out on the couch, her legs thrown up, over the side as she threw her head back to see what Harry had been talking about.

“That’s Antonio Solis, you boob,” Y/N gasped as she flipped over to her belly.

“Who’s he?” Harry scrunched his nose as he turned the record cover back around to take a better look.

“He’s, like, a totally famous artist,” Y/N explained, “well, he was in a really famous band—that’s them. The Bukis.”

“What does that mean in Spanish?” Harry asked, looking up from his place seated on top of a throw blanket Y/N had tossed to him so that he wouldn’t have to sit directly on her cold, hard wood floor.

“I don’t really know,” Y/N furrowed her brows, “I don’t know if it means anything, actually.”

“Are they any good?” Harry inquired, raising the record.

“They’re famous for a reason, Harry,” Y/N teased, “you can put it on, if you want.”

“What’s your favorite side?” Harry asked as he rose to his knees. They had first  listened to a man named Joao Gilberto who Y/N had marveled at him for not knowing. He was able to recognize one song as “that song they always play in the elevator,” which had caused Y/N to gasp out in horror before laughing out one of those laughs he had missed so much. The kind that wasn’t inhibited by self-consciousness or restraint. It was goofy, but so endearing, somehow. Then, Harry had recognized a Van Morrison album and had replaced the record. They had listened to a few more as Harry read out some of the record’s liner notes.

“B,” Y/N responded, resting her chin on her crossed arms before her. It still hadn’t set in as she watched Harry struggled to remove the previous record and replace it with the new one. The way his fingers moved did something for her. She wasn’t sure if it was the sight of his bigger hands doing something her smaller ones usually did or if it was the nice contrast of his sun kissed skin to his various colored rings on each of his knuckles. Y/N hated the other odd string of thoughts that ran through her mind. All she could think of was if she had been murdered a few months previously, investigators would not have found Harry Styles’ prints in her home... What in God’s name compelled her to think such morbid thoughts? She continued to watch as Harry released the needle and sat back on his heels, listening to the first few notes of a song she remembered from her childhood.

“Groovy,” Harry commented after a few lyrics passed before he started dancing, pretty goofily if Y/N had any say in it. He had struggled to push up to his full height as he started dancing towards Y/N reaching out his hands for her to grab. She hesitated, knowing full well how dancing with this little foolish boy would affect her once again. She couldn’t help herself, though, as behind her speculative gaze there was nothing but admiration. She had reached her hand out and had been pulled from her couch to dance around her living room quiet sloppily.

“What are they saying?” Harry asked as he went to turn her.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as the two continued to listen to the song.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Eh... he’s saying how he fell in love with someone while they were dancing,” Y/N shook her head, “as much as it may seem, I’m not trying to say anything, here.”

“Shame,” Harry raised his brows before he suddenly stopped dancing with Y/N. She was left standing in the middle of her living room as she watched Harry walk over to kneel before her record player. His hands had stopped the record and taken it from the record player.

“What?” Y/N asked, furrowing her brows as she set her fists on her hips.

“S’nothing,” Harry shook his head.

“Yeah?” Y/N pressed.

“S’really nothing,” Harry sighed.

A few awkward moments passed between the two before Harry turned to peer over at Y/N, 

“Why’d you chat me up all those months ago just to go plant one on somebody else on an Instagram story?” Harry asked, the hurt showing on his somber expression.

“What?” Y/N huffed in disbelief. He must have been out of his wits drunk.

“So you’re denying it?” Harry narrowed his eyes at Y/N.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N offered, “when did this happen?”

“At that one wedding,” Harry explained. It took Y/N a moment before she remembered what Harry had perceived to be a risky moment between her and a young man.

“Are you talking about Alex?” Y/N couldn’t help the laughter that came with such a question.

“I... I don’t know. He was tall and you were dancing, and he,” Harry started before Y/N shook her head at him.

“He’s a very good friend,” Y/N stated, “nothing more.”

“Hm,” Harry still did not look convinced.

“He’s also finds men very attractive,” Y/N added.

“Ah,” Harry’s features showed his embarrassment as his tone turned slightly red, “I feel very foolish, all of a sudden.”

“Jumping to conclusions’ll do that to you,” Y/N shrugged before a pillow was thrown her way.

“You hurt my damn feelings,” Harry laughed as his hands went to cover his face.

“Why?” Y/N huffed to which Harry raised his head to look at her in bewilderment.

“I knew it,” Harry gaped.

“What?” Y/N’s brows pinched together.

“You’re an alien from Mars,” Harry nodded.

“What?” Y/N scrunched her nose at him.

“You act as if nobody has ever taken an interest in you,” Harry shook his head in bewilderment at Y/N.

“Oh, God. Well, I’m not very good at these things; if you haven’t noticed. I tend to read things wrong and make too much of things, and overcomplicate them, and then things inevitably get awkward,” Y/N suddenly stopped speaking, “I’m rambling... sorry... I’m sorry I made you feel so badly.”

“Me, too,” Harry voiced and it wasn't long before Y/N got up to pad over to where Harry had been sat to kneel in front of him. Her hands showed hesitation before they went to grab a hold of either side of his face and he couldn’t help but melt into her touch.

“Hi,” she almost seemed to whisper, her teeth going to bite at her bottom lip as she smiled at him.

“Hi,” he lowly responded, sleepily smiling back at her. Being at this proximity, Harry thought her eyes seemed to go on forever. There was a little glint to them, and he swore some film director out there somewhere was looking for someone with eyes half as breathtaking as hers.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N repeated but Harry could only shrug his shoulders in response as the scent of her perfume wafting through his nostrils. God, she smelled so nice.

“Would you mind terribly if I did something?” She continued to speak softly.

“Hey,” Harry pouted, “s’my line.”

Y/N’s smile deepened before Harry pushed forward to kiss her lips. Harry couldn’t help it as his arms went to encircle her torso, her elbows going to rest on his shoulders. Harry thought his heart would come up into her mouth, it was beating so hard and so fast. If it weren’t so creepy, he wanted so badly to open his eyes to see her in that exact moment—to see if she was just as in love with kissing his lips as he was with hers. He wanted her closer but didn’t know how to ask for more contact. With others, it had all come so naturally. With Y/N... well, she was different. All of a sudden, he didn’t want to rush things and he didn’t know how much he could take of her soft lips caressing his own.

“D’ya want this?” Harry couldn’t help but ask. All Y/N did was hum a response and Harry moved his head so that Y/N could nip down the side of his neck, sending chills down his entire being.

“Baby,” Harry mumbled into Y/N’s hair as he forced his eyes open, kissing the side of her head, “answer me?”

“What?” Y/N hesitantly pulled away.

“I mean,” Harry puffed out a sigh, “is this... are we going too fast?”

“Too fast?” Y/N’s brows raised out of confusion.

“Yeah,” Harry trailed as he tried to read her emotion.

“Uh,” Y/N laughed, “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you... or anything.”

“No,” Harry fervently shook his head as he went to rub at her bare arm, “just don’t wanna rush things.”

“I don’t,” Y/N seemed to cut off her own train of thought, “I’m sorry; if you don’t want me, that’s... fine.”

“No, I,” Harry quickly shook his head as Y/N sat on her heels, “of course I want you. I just... I don’t want... I... I tend to... rush things or... I start things too intimate at first and then a relationship follows... but you’re... I don’t know. I don’t want to start like that... at least not with you... I just... I really like you. And... I don’t wanna mess it up... You know?”

Y/N seemed to be trying to figure out whether or not she believed Harry.

“This is usually the part where,” Harry grinned after audibly gulping, “you tell me if you like me... too?”

Traces of a smile grew upon her features before she rolled her eyes, ”I mean, don’t let it go to your head.”

“I will let it go to my head,” Harry smiled as he leaned forward on his hands to extend his neck for her to kiss him, “I can feel my head expanding with it, now.”

“Harry,” Y/N pouted as her hands went to caress each side of his head.

“Y/N,” Harry reciprocated her tone.

“I kinda want to rush things,” Y/N scrunched up her nose.

“Yeah?” Harry seemed to tease, flashing another one of those grins where Y/N couldn’t discern sleep or want.

All Y/N could do was nod before pressing her lips on Harry’s, his tongue going to prod between her lips. His mouth was pleasantly warm for her. It wasn’t long before Y/N ended up on her back, Harry’s presence overwhelming her on the rug in the middle of her living room floor.

“Taste so sweet,” Harry mumbled in between Y/N’s kisses. Y/N only hummed as her fingers went to comb through the hair at the back of his neck.

“A date,” he suddenly pulled away as he looked down at Y/N’s eyelids as she recovered from the loss of contact.

“What?” She furrowed her brows.

“I want a real first date before we go any further,” Harry stated.

“Are you serious?” Y/N furrowed her brows up at him.

“Those are my terms,” Harry nodded, kissing Y/N’s nose in the process, “take ‘em or leave ‘em.”

+ + +

“How’d I look?” Y/N asked as her hands went to run over her legs once more, smoothing out the fabric of the dress Harry had sneakily watched her wiggle into earlier that afternoon from her bedroom.

“Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular,” Harry and Y/N both shared a fit of laughter, Y/N’s hand going to cover Harry’s larger one before he went to grasp at her fidgeting hands, “no, you look great, you look great. More importantly, how’d I look? I’m the one meeting your friends and family as a first date.”

“You’ve never looked bad a day in your life,” Y/N rolled her eyes as she shifted her weight onto the foot further away from Harry. The two hadn’t had much time to schedule a first date since that night the two shared in Y/N’s home. Their schedules just hadn’t matched up and Y/N decided to suggest the night of her next big soiree as a first date. Harry was reluctant; stating how much he had been wanting to “wine and dine” Y/N. The two both understood how needy the other was for intimate contact, however, and had agreed on the event as a sort of first date.

“Really know how to stroke a boy’s ego,” Harry smiled as he couldn’t help but drape his arms around Y/N’s waist. Harry liked the amount of skin that had been on display. It was a little more than he was used to and he hoped Y/N had done it with intent—with him in mind.

“Are you sure this looks okay? It’s not too tight around my butt?” Y/N craned her neck in attempt to peep a glance at her backside.

“Oh, it looks just fine,” Harry teased as his hands had slipped a little to rest hazardously above the asset they were discussing. 

“Oof, m’shaking in me knickers,” Y/N laughed as she went to peck at Harry’s lips, Harry catching another just as she leaned away at the call of her name.

“Y/N, if you’re done trying to taste your boyfriend’s stomach, Odie’s here,” Jamie called out, a grin pulling at the corners of her lips that had been painted a deep shade of purple as she looked ahead at the sight of Harry’s back and Y/N stood in front of him.

“Oh, uh,” Y/N was going to correct Jamie but was suddenly stopped at the surprising sensation of Harry’s hands squeezing her bum before patting it and rising from his seat.

“Yes, how is the old chap?” Harry wondered aloud, grabbing a hold of Y/N’s hand to lead her out of their nook, as if nothing had happened. The pair had snuck into the kitchen to greet the cook. It hadn’t been long that the two had been chatting with the elder that Harry had to excuse himself to take care of the spilled soup stain on his button up he had caused while trying to slurp Odie’s dish when he barked at someone to find them a spoon. Y/N had stayed behind, scorning Odie for his temper when the two were interrupted.

“Baby,” Greta called, and Y/N immediately recognized the voice.

“Mami!” Y/N beamed as she left Odie’s side to go envelop her mother in an embrace. “You made it!”

“Of course; I told you I would, mamas,” came Y/N’s mother’s response.

“I know,” Y/N pulled away to get a better look at her mother, “but I feel like something always comes up.”

“Well, not this time around,” Greta shook her head as her hands went to push her daughter’s hair off her shoulder, “so... where’s the new boyfriend?”

“Oh my gosh,” Y/N’s eyes seemed to pop out of her head, they bulged so much, “you cannot call him that.”

“Why not?” Y/N’s mother scrunched her nose the same way her daughter would when she was confused.

“Because we haven’t had that talk, yet,” Y/N explained.

“Odie,” Y/N’s mother furrowed her brows over to the cook her daughter had created an odd friendship with.

“I’m already planning the wedding cake, Mami,” Odie grinned.

“I can’t with you two,” Y/N laughed, shaking her head as her hand slipped to intertwine her fingers with her mother’s, “come meet him?”

“Honey, that’s a big part of why I’m here,” Greta responded, “if he thinks I’m gonna take it easy on him just because he’s a big Hollywood star, he’s got another thing coming. You are my most precious thing in this world and-”

“Mom,” Y/N laughed as she squeezed her mother’s hand, “it doesn’t have to be this serious. I don’t even know if this is going to be a long term thing. I just... we haven’t gotten to spend a lot of time together lately and he was willing to come tonight, despite having to meet my family... Can you just... be nice to him? I really like him.”

“You deserve more than you understand, mija,” Greta went to cup her daughter’s cheek, “but, fine, yes. I’ll be nice... but not too nice.”

“Oh my goodness. Odie, nos veremos?” Y/N turned to Odie, signaling their departure.

“Sim, meus amores. Go, enjoy,” Odie nodded before turning back to his kitchen, “onde está aquela colher maldita?”

They had looked in the all the different rooms of the gathering, but it took an unusually long time to find the male. When they did, Y/N and Greta could not help the laughter that ensued. In the middle of the dance floor, Harry seemed to be having the time of his life dancing with one of the elders in Y/N’s family. She was a distant aunt—twice removed or something along those lines. She was a short, little thing standing at about four feet and eleven inches. It was quite comical, the foot height difference between the two as the elder seemed to lead Harry in a few turns here and there.

“Mira tu novio, hija,” Elena called out to Y/N once she noticed her laughing off to the side, “sabe bailar.”

Harry furrowed his brows as he looked back to Y/N to see what the older woman had said.

“She says you know how to dance,” Y/N translated over the music, the end of her laughter ending in a few huffs before Harry’s gaze shifted to the woman that stood next to her. Y/N watched as he neared his lips to the elder’s ear before Elena smiled and nodded, patting his back before she urged him towards Y/N and her mother.

“Sorry,” Harry laughed as he approached the two, Elena on his arm.

“Tan amable, Y/N,” Elena gushed up at Harry, “me miro bailando sola y me invito a bailar.”

Harry’s features contorted as he glanced at Y/N for translation. All Y/N could do is pout her bottom lip at the thought of Harry asking her lone aunt to dance.

“What a gentleman,” Greta raised her brows as Elena parted from the group, giving Harry a little squeeze before excusing herself, “s’nice to meet you, Harry.”

“I would say it was nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Y/L/N, but that couldn’t be true, right? Look too young to be this one’s mum,” Harry nodded as he went to cup Y/N’s mothers palm between his own.

“Oh, my God,” Greta let out a giggle that Y/N couldn’t help but furrow her eyebrows. Y/N couldn’t believe how her mother had already started falling under Harry’s spell.

“Honestly, are you her sister?” Harry continued.

“No,” she chortled, shaking her head, “I’m the mom.”

The mom? Her mother had graduated top of her class both in high school and after completing her master’s degree... What kind of response was that? Y/N crossed her arms as she watched her mother giggle like a school girl.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me,” Harry shrugged before he went on to flatter the older woman. It wasn’t long before Harry had noticed Greta’s toe tapping to the beat of the music playing behind them and had offered his hand to take her out to dance.

“You’ll have to teach me how to dance this,” Harry explained as he glanced at Y/N, “your daughter tried showing me, but I’ve got two left feet.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Greta shook her head as she rolled her eyes at her daughter, “besides, she’s not as nice a teacher as I am.”

“What was that, mom?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, grinning at the two before her mother turned to laugh at her.

“Nothing!” Y/N’s mother snickered as Harry went to twirl the woman.

Harry had spent the better half of the evening endearing Y/N’s friends and family—her mother especially. Greta had fallen in love with the young male. She went around doting on him like she would a son. After failing to get her daughter to fix Harry a plate, she took it upon herself to retrieve food from the kitchen for him. Since then, Y/N had felt pretty unessential. It was a different feeling, to sit back and watch someone she had started developing such serious emotions for go around and enchanting the people she was so close to. She couldn’t quite pin the feeling, at first. Pretty soon, though, she felt pathetic for feeling such a way. It was odd to feel jealous of the time her loved ones had monopolized with Harry. She had blamed it on the fact that she had entered the party thinking it would be a traditional one on one date with Harry—the one he had requested to begin with. Perhaps this was why he had been hesitant to count such a gathering as a first date.

In any event, Y/N had decided it wouldn’t be such a good look for Harry to look over from the little crowd of her relations he had attracted to see her pouting at a nearby table. She had removed herself from pouting in the corner and had treaded up the stairs to step into the night San Franciscan air. She normally wasn’t like this at one of her parties. A prior longtime boyfriend had frequented these events and they never had this problem. He would sit, drink, and smoke with his group of invited friends while Y/N would habitat the dance floor with a constant group of individuals. He would usually go home earlier than she would, but they would always end up sleeping next to one another at the end of the night. She never felt jealousy towards his friends for occupying his time... She wondered why it was so different with Harry. Sure, it was a different relationship (if you could call it that) with a different person; but she didn’t think that should change the way she felt about him spending time with her people.

“Hey,” a voice from behind Y/N’s seated body had frightened her as she quickly turned to see Harry’s head poking out from the door that led to the stairwell, “what’re you doin’ up here? It’s freezing.”

“Oh, uh,” Y/N smiled as she turned back to the scene she had been staring at, “watching lights.”

“The main character, are we?” Harry teased, frowning when Y/N didn’t laugh. It had been something she liked to use as a punchline so many times before and once he had started using the phrase, she always seemed to get a big kick out of the phrase. He wasn’t sure why it had tickled her fancy so much—something about hearing him specifically saying it, she had once said.

“You feeling okay?” Harry gently inquired as his hands went to rub at Y/N’s tense neck before being shrugged off by Y/N.

“Yeah,” she replied, still not looking up from staring out in front of her.

“Okay,” Harry sighed as his fingers went to bunch up the fabric of his pants before he sat down, “that’s a lie... C’mon, what’s wrong? Tired?”

“No,” she shook her head before tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Okay,” Harry went to look at the city lights, “have I done something to offend you? Something I said?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Stop that,” Harry nudged her lip. It had been a conversation they had just had—Y/N pleading with him to help her stop her bad habit of picking at her lips with her teeth, “look, I’m no mind reader but I know there’s something bothering you... We were having such a lovely time...”

“You spent all night charming everybody’s pants off,” Y/N softly stated.

“And?” Harry shook his head, starting to become a little frustrated. He had never tried so hard to read her mind before... or anyone else’s, for that matter. There was a long pause between them before Harry’s elbow nudged Y/N’s side.

“Do you not want me? I mean, shouldn’t you be trying to charm my pants off?” Y/N huffed. Harry huffed out a breath before he shook his head, staring straight ahead. 

“What?” Y/N asked.

“Baby,” Harry huffed as he turned to face Y/N, his hands reaching out to snake under Y/N’s chin so they could gently grasp the sides of her neck, his thumbs going to push her hair from her face.

“What?” Y/N shook her head as he looked at her under those lashes she had come to be so fond of.

“I couldn’t want you any more than you could possibly know tonight,” Harry replied before his lips were on her and it seemed like a ton of bricks were lifted from Y/N’s shoulders. Harry got chills as he still hadn’t gotten used to how soft her lips were against his own. She tasted like the bubble gum she had been chewing earlier, and he wondered if there would ever be a time when he would tire of the smell of her perfume. Y/N’s hands warmed Harry’s cheeks as he helped hoist her from her seated position next to him so that she could straddle his thighs a little more comfortably. Previous times her lips had met Harry’s were tender and their almost languid. This time was a little different—it was needier and the way Harry rubbed up and down Y/N’s arms had given her goosebumps. His larger hands had slipped down to rub at the bare thighs that had poked out from her bunched up dress. She couldn't help but shiver as the harsh callouses of his fingertips ghosted up and down her skin.

“Looked so good all night, baby,” Harry mumbled between kisses, “d’you wear the tightest dress you could find on purpose? Hm? ... And how’d you know my favorite color on you was blue?”

All he got in response was a little murmur he couldn't quite make out, but he didn’t mind. He liked how she licked at his mouth too much to get huffy puffy over a response that never came. Things had escalated pretty quickly from there—he could soon feel the heat of her where he wanted her the most and he didn’t know how much he could take of their clothing being in the way. There had been one or two purposeful movements of Y/N’s hips before Harry felt Y/N’s hands start to trail between them.

“What’re you doing?” Harry feigned ignorance as Y/N could feel the smile on his lips growing. All Y/N could do was whine at his statement before Harry’s hands had to stop her own.

“As pretty as you look on me out here, can’t do this out here,” Harry shook his head as his thumb went to brush some of Y/N’s hair from between her lips before he couldn’t help but run his thumb over her lips, “least not the first time.”

“Buzzkill,” Y/N frowned before her lips opened to allow Harry’s thumb to lay on her tongue before she briskly sucked on his thumb.

“What would you say to leavin’ the party a little early,” Harry voiced as he felt Y/N’s tongue on his thumb.

“Yes, please,” came Y/N’s muffled response before Harry pulled his thumb from Y/N’s mouth.

“Let’s go say our goodbyes, then,” Harry cooed at Y/N before pressing a kiss to her nose and helping her dismount his lap.

+ + +

[A/N: For all my Latinx Harries out there. I have been working on this since about the very ending of last year and so many things in this blurb have manifested (e.g. Harry + Florence Pugh + Chris Pine working together; people knitting A LOT in lock down). I’m convinced I’m psychic. I hope you are all doing well/safe. Please, remember to wear your masks, socially distance, and treat people w/ kindness. :)}