#and before I knew it I ended up skimming through The Star and feeling some sort of way

[pandamonyum]

"On my way to Egypt I met a blue-haired woman on the ferry, I approached her because I thought she had important information about the storm but I had to restrain myself from throwing hands with her. She ended up saving me, tho."

"My 19 year old coworker has started calling me Greta, it doesn't really bother me, but I wonder if I don't have the air of a senior investigator or if maybe she's just too friendly. I can't understand the youth".

"Remember that writer I told you about? She's decided to join the foundation and I'm now her mentor. Hopefully I can introduce you to her soon".

"Hello Adler, how have you been? Try to get a bit of fresh air, don't stay cupped up inside all day. Lucy probably has already informed you but I'm on my way to Vienna. If everything turns out ok I might go to Romania for a bit before heading back. See you then."

[kurokawaia]

❛ I'LL TEACH YOU ❜

Tomioka Giyuu X Fem!Reader

WC;2k k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; x fem reader, reader is implied a virgin but isnt specified, fingering, oral -> male recieving, smut, nsfw, pwp?, pw/op? praise, fluffy at the end, + more

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Can you do giyuu x fem!reader where reader is new to sex😅- ANON

m.list | demon slayer m.list

Now, you weren't experienced in sex, not at all. But, one could say the same about Giyuu. He was stoic and quiet so one would expect him to be not experienced either, although that wasn't the case. Yes, he was inexperienced but in his head, he knew exactly what a woman would want and crave. 

Giyuu and you have been together for quite a few months now and the most anything sexual had ever grown between you was the heavy and heated makeout sessions the two of you had, where Giyuu's hands would wonder lower, his fingers pressing against your clothed pussy before you pull away. 

You were just a tad bit scared because you knew that you were inexperienced and think that might deter your boyfriend, but that was far from the case. At this point, Giyuu was wondering if you even love him like that, in a sexual way. 

To Giyuu's surprise, you had the guts today to take some subtle control. Your hands cup his face gently, as you sink further beneath him while your tongues slowly intertwine with each other before one of your hands slithers into Giyuu's hair, softly tugging on the black strands. Giyuu lets out a soft moan into your mouth at your action 

You tremble due to the simple sound, it makes you feel so weak to the point where you whimper into his mouth. Cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, your cheeks were beet red. Pulling away from the heated kiss, your arms wrap tightly around his shoulder and around his neck while you bury your face into his neck. 

"Sorry," you mumble.

Giyuu lets out a sigh before kissing your hair and wrapping his arms to reciprocate around your figure, pulling you inevitably closer to him. "You don't need to apologise for something like that," Giyuu replies, his breath tickling your neck causing shivers to spill from every nerve of your body.

"Still..." you say slowly. "You make me feel things I don't know how to deal with."

"You can let me help," Giyuu replies reassuringly. "You know I'd never hurt you."

You lift your head from his shoulder with stars in your eyes. You love him so much it is overwhelming. 

You smash your lips against him and he grunts shocked in response. Giyuu's tongue is in your mouth once more and you gasp as your body falls back against the futon. Electricity was coursing through your veins at his touch.

"Giyuu," you moan against his mouth, your eyes shut closed in ecstasy. "Can you please....?"

"I'll do anything you want me to," he replies instantly, his lips breaking away from yours. 

In reply, you began to kiss him again, you couldn't get enough of him. "Could you take my nemaki off..." you asked, unsure.

"Of course," he replies almost instantly. 

A breathless sigh leaves your mouth when his hot hand trailed up your lower stomach to experimentally squeeze the mounds of flesh. you let out a moan when Giyuu's lips began to press and suck gently on the top of your breast. You covered your mouth embarrassed while you looked away from Giyuu. "Sorry," You mumbled.

"You sound so pretty," he whispers in your ear, causing your cheeks to heat up. Giyuu's free hand pulled the hand away from your mouth. 

He leaned up a bit, pulling you gently with him and slipped the black nemaki off your shoulders, placing the material somewhere near us before he lay you down on the futon again.

Giyuu's lips pressed against mine once more while a hand skimmed slowly down your body. You felt the tip of his finger tug only slightly at your underwear and you grasped his wrist, the kiss breaking.

"Do you want to stop? You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Giyuu reassures but you shake your head, signalling that you weren't implying that.

"It's not that, I really want to," You replied breathlessly before an embarrassed flush rose onto your cheeks. "Could you take off your..."

"Huh? Oh, of course," Giyuu hummed, his lips pressing the side of your jaw. You watched him slip himself out of his nemaki, You see the imprint of his dick press painfully against his underwear and you swallowed deeply before he straddled you once you. Giyuu did that without any complaint, he must really love you all that much.

Giyuu pressed a reassuring kiss on your jaw before the tips of his fingers pulled the cotton down your legs, the cool air of the room causing chills to tingle down your pale skin. "You're so pretty," Giyuu says breathlessly causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach.

His fingers venture further down, tracing a path along your slick slit. The touch is electrifying, causing you to tremble in his hold, your body responding to his every movement. A helpless whimper escapes your lips, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you.

"So wet," Giyuu mumbles before looking back up to me. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," You replied quietly, opening your eyes down to Giyuu. "Please, can you... touch me more."

"I'll do whatever you want me do to," Giyuu replied and You let a small smile grace your lips.

At your reply, Giyuu's fingers experimentally push past your slick folds, his fingers pressing past your clit, and a surge of pleasure courses through you, leaving you breathless and desperate for more. A moan left your mouth as your back arched at his touch. your reaction caused Giyuu to press down slightly more and your legs squeezed around his waist, moans stringing out your mouth.

You felt his fingers slide down and he found your seeping hols, drenched with arousal. You felt a finger slowly slide inside your heat, a whimper leaving your mouth. "Does this feel good?" Giyuu asked and You nodded frantically.

"So good," You whimpered as he slowly pumped in and out your soaked walls. "Making me feel so good, Giyuu."

"Really?" He asked and you moaned as he inserted another finger into your walls.

"Yeah, so so good," You whimper.

The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intensity that leaves you unable to contain your moans. You press your lips against his shoulder, muffling the sounds that escape from deep within you. His fingers explore the depths of your core, igniting a fire that consumes your every thought. Each movement, each curl, sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body.

You surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch, the combination of his skilled fingers and the intensity of our connection pushes you closer to the edge, teetering on the precipice of release. It's a moment of pure bliss, where time stands still, and you are consumed by the overwhelming pleasure that courses through your veins.

As Giyuu's fingers continued their relentless rhythm, pumping in and out of your seeping hole, there was an unfamiliar tightness growing in your lower abdomen, pleasure tightened inside your stomach. you wrap your shaky legs around him, seeking to anchor yourself to him amidst the overwhelming pleasure. your body quivers with anticipation, responding to his every touch, every movement.

you chant his name into his neck as praises leave your mouth, your voice filled with desire and need. The tears welling in your eyes are not from pain but from the overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume you entirely.

In response to your plea, sucks the skin around your neck once more, groaning against your neck, his voice laced with desire. He begins to press your clit with the pad of his thumb, adding another layer of pleasure to the already intense sensations. The touch is electrifying, causing you to arch your back in response.

"Please, Giyuu," you sob. "I need to... So good, Giyuu."

"I've got you," Giyuu reassured, intertwining our mouths together, his mouth swallowing the moans that slipped out your mouth.

The pleasure builds, the tension mounting with each passing second until you are on the precipice of release. It's a moment of pure surrender, where pleasure reigns supreme, and you are consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy that engulfs you.

Waves of ecstasy wash over you, leaving your legs trembling and weak from the intensity of the sensations. He slips his fingers from your hole and you continue to tremble from the aftermath of the orgasm. you managed to release your from Giyuu's neck and move away from his hold.

"How are you feeling?" Giyuu asks cupping your cheeks.

"Good," you breath out slowly while looking into his eyes. "But, I want to make you feel good too."

"You don't need-"

"Please," you beg and you watch him swallow deeply, tension showing on his body.

Giyuu asked once more. "Are you sure?"

you nod. "Please."

"Alright," He smiles gently moving off you to get himself out of his underwear and your eyes widen as you see the size of his length. Giyuu moves over you, you place your hands on his chest.

"W-wait," you say, voice cracking.

"Are you okay? What's wrong? Do you want to stop-?"

You shake your head. "No! I just want to make you feel good too."

Giyuu's eyes widened when he realised what you were implying, you wanted to give him head, that's what he was thinking. And by the glint in your eye, he could tell that his thoughts were right. 

Giyuu cups your face reassuringly. "You don't need to, I'm here to please you-"

"P-Please," you breathed, your doe eyes staring deeply into his own.

He lets out a hopeless sigh before straddling your hips. "Alright, let me know at any time if it's too much."

"I will," you replied sitting up and Giyuu lays down onto the futon, allowing you to settle in between his thighs. 

You grasp the base of his cock with nervousness in your eyes, not really knowing what to do. Accidentally, you squeezed the base of his length and a deep groan strained itself from Giyuu's mouth, his head thrown back against the pillow while his hand shot down to grip yours.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Giyuu lets out a pleasured sigh. "No... that felt good, keep... keep going."

You nibble on your bottom lip unsure. "Well... what do I..."

"You can do it... you have to put your mouth-"

"Okay," you replied, a little bit too eagerly and Giyuu smiled at your cute reaction.

As your head descended and you gave his tip an experimenting lick, Giyuu snarled at the sensation. His abs and thighs stiffened. You were trying to take him as far as you could without gagging on his cock, so you were using your hand to jack off the part that wouldn't go in your mouth. 

Giyuu's groans grew louder, and he struggled to maintain his stance. Giyuu began to navigate your head through the tangles of your hair without your assistance as you relaxed your grip and let him to take over.

"See, you're doing so well," he groaned.

The whimpers escaping his mouth made it even more likely that your cunt would soak your pants—he was getting drier by the second.

Giyuu began to move faster, which caused you to cry even harder. He gave a muffled moan when you hollowed down your cheeks, which made him hesitant to get any closer. His seed spills into your mouth as he pulls away from you.

Giyuu's eyes widened in realisation of what he had just done. "Spit it out," he demands.

You were too conflicted to know whether to spit or to swallow so you simply followed Giyuu's order and let the cum spill from your mouth, the salty liquid getting spit out from your mouth beside the futon.

"Are you okay?" he asked hastily, sitting up and cradling your head.

You nodded, a smile coming onto your lips, "I am, Giyuu."

Giyuu pulled you in close to him, arms wrapped tightly around your figure with one hand on the back of your head, burying your face into his shoulder. He lets out a sigh of contentment. "I actually liked it," you add.

"You did...?" he replied confused, he thought that women wouldn't be fond of being the one to give oral.

"Yeah," you mumbled into his neck. "But I wanna bathe and shower now."

"We can do that," he replies, pressing soft kisses to the side of your head.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | demon slayer m.list

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Star gazing with Eddie and venom, it be like a cute date that was totally venom idea but won't admit it and reader enjoying her time with them

.⋆｡Stars and Us｡⋆.

Eddie Brock x plus size reader

With no other options left, Eddie is forced to listen to his parasitic friend who’s secretly a massive romantic.

Warnings: fluff, Venom doesn’t have feelings (it totally does), brief mentions of smut WC: 1k

6k Follower Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Eddie wasn’t quite panicking, but he was close. He could at least convince himself that he had everything under control despite the end of the week looming ever closer. It was your three month anniversary. Three blissful months with the most incredible human he had ever met and even if you insisted that you didn’t need any big celebration, Eddie knew better. You deserved to be celebrated and worshiped, the only problem was, he had no fucking clue what he was doing.

The man was five articles deep on the best anniversary ideas but none of them would be perfect (or cheap enough). “Maybe she’d appreciate half a dozen orgasms and some shitty take out.” Eddie grunted as his forehead hit the desk, abandoning his quest with a whimper.

“That’s what you do every week.” Venom curled itself around Eddie’s broad shoulders, its white eyes skimming over the section on a Parisian getaway before looking down at its pouting host.

“It’s worked this far hasn’t it?”

“Pathetic.” Eddie’s head spun around so quickly his neck clicked. Venom sighed heavily and slunk back towards the kitchen. “You claim to love this human yet you do not put in any effort into seducing her. You just throw her around and expect her to enjoy it.” It plucked up a chocolate bar with a thin tendril, waving it in the air before it threw the sweet into its wide maw.

“Why are you suddenly an expert on dating? Last I checked, you barely even tolerated having her around if she wasn’t feeding you.” Venom scowled, releasing a soft growl as he licked his teeth clean. 

“You chose her as a mate, do not judge how I deal with it.” Eddie sighed and ran his fingers through his cropped hair. You would be home soon and he was running out of free time until it was your anniversary.

“Well, do you have any bright ideas on what I should do if you’re so smart.” Venom hummed, seeping back into Eddie just as your heels clicked up the hall.

“I may have an idea.”

——————

“I told you that we didn’t have to do anything today.” You giggled as Eddie helped you off his bike, his large hands deliberately lingering on your hips even after you found your footing. He just smirked and pressed a quick kiss to your full cheek as he reached behind you for the bag propped up behind your seat.

“And miss this chance to spoil you? Absolutely not.” You clung to his free arm, squeezing the hard muscle of his biceps as Eddie led you towards the empty field sprawled out in front of you. 

“You aren’t gonna kill me are you? Cause I didn’t tell my roommate where I was going tonight and I need someone to feed my fish for me.” Even though it was just shy of pitch black, you knew Eddie was rolling his eyes. His arm slipped from your hold for just a second and before you could reach around again for it, he grabbed your ass and gave it a generous squeeze.

Your surprised yelp carried across the field, as did Eddie’s accompanying laughter. “Hands off the goods, handsome.” You scolded but took his hand back in yours anyway, your fingers intertwining.

“Sorry princess.” Soon enough, you both slowed, coming to a patch where the grass wasn’t as long and the sound of crickets seemed to dull slightly. With another kiss to your cheek, Eddie pulled a blanket from his bag, laying it out perfectly with a flick of his wrists.

“Shit Brock, you practise that just for me?” 

“I was single for a long time, baby, these wrists have put in some real work.” You scrunched your nose and shoved him off you as Eddie went for another kiss.

“You’re disgusting.” But it came out as more of a giggle than anything else.

“And yet, you love the things these wrists can do.” He purred against your lips. 

Your arms wound around his neck, tugging him closer. “Oh you bet I do.” Just like always, you melted into his kiss, eagerly lapping up his affection as he held your waist to him. Just as his tongue brushed against your bottom lip, Eddie flinched and pulled away.

“Yeah, I hear you, there’s no need to threaten my liver.” 

“What’s Venom saying?” You asked with a voice full of fondness.

“Just reminding me why we brought you here in the first place.” He helped you down onto the blanket before joining you. Eddie guided your head to his chest as you wrapped yourself around him and finally looked up.

Millions of stars stretched across the night sky, each one shimmering brilliantly from their place in the universe. They clumped together like strokes of a paintbrush reaching all the way down to the horizon. “Wow.” You breathed. “I never knew you could see so many stars so close to the city. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Eddie’s fingers gently ran up and down your back as he hummed. “Yeah you are.” 

You tore your gaze away to look at your boyfriend, who was already looking at you. Heat crawled up your cheeks and you turned away. “Fucking sap.” You muttered as his chest rumbled with soft laughter.

He kissed the top of your head and finally joined you in watching the galaxy go by. 

“This is perfect Eds. Where did you come up with this?”

“Had some help from Venom. I was just gonna eat you out till you passed out.” You jammed your finger into his ribs just as Venom did the same thing from inside him. “Hey! I can’t have you both teaming up against me! I’m fragile.”

“Yeah right.” You said as Venom echoed the same sentiment, making Eddie smirk. “Will you thank it for me then, I don’t think I’ve ever had a man be this romantic for me before.”

Venom remained silent but Eddie could tell just how pleased it was. “I will. Happy 3 months princess.”

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[mononijikayu]

for us — gojo satoru.

From childhood, everyone knew that he was bringing the world on a rollercoaster of emotions. From all his action films to his most popular TV show, Jujutsu Kaisen—he had found himself adored, applauded. Satoru can admit to himself that he enjoyed what he did. Satoru knows he’s very good at what he does. He had all the accolades that the world needed to prove it. But now, he has been burned out.

GENRE: cursed womb arc, 2018;

WARNING/S: alternate universe - canon convergence, friends, friends to lovers, domesticity, fluff, romance, young love, humor, first love, first love, flirting, slice of life;

LISTEN: for us by v of bts

NOTE: so, this was a copium of mine for a while. i keep seeing people's art for jjk actor au and i just, this has got to be something that has to happen. give me top star actor gojo satoru starring in a shojo slice of live adult romance next please </3

masterlist

kayu's playlist — side 700;

HE NEVER REALLY EXPECTED IT. In the whirlwind of bright lights and red carpets, actor Gojo Satoru found himself embarking on an unexpected journey, one unlike any he had experienced before. As he navigated the frenetic pace of the entertainment industry, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was uncharted territory, a path diverging from the familiar roads he had traveled in the past.

For years, Satoru had honed his craft, gracing screens both big and small with his undeniable talent. He had become accustomed to the hustle and bustle of the industry, the endless cycle of auditions, rehearsals, and premieres. But amidst the glitz and glamor, there was a newfound sense of uncertainty, a whisper of possibility lingering in the air.

As he stood beneath the glare of flashing cameras and the roar of adoring fans, Satoru couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement mingled with apprehension. This journey, unlike any other, was filled with unforeseen twists and turns, leading him down paths he had never dared to tread.

But amidst the uncertainty, there was also a sense of liberation, a freedom to explore new horizons and embrace the unknown. With each step forward, Satoru felt the weight of expectation lifted from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of exhilaration at the endless possibilities that lay ahead.

As he gazed out at the sea of faces before him, Satoru knew that this journey was just beginning. And though he couldn't predict where the road would lead, one thing was certain: he was ready to embrace the adventure with open arms, eager to discover what lay beyond the bright lights and red carpets of his past.

From childhood, everyone knew that he was bringing the world on a rollercoaster of emotions. From all his action films to his most popular TV show, Jujutsu Kaisen—he had found himself adored, applauded. Satoru can admit to himself that he enjoyed what he did. Satoru knows he’s very good at what he does. He had all the accolades that the world needed to prove it. But now, he has been burned out.

And now on a break from filming Jujutsu Kaisen, Gojo Satoru wanted a change of pace. He craved a new challenge, something that would reignite his passion for acting. He wanted to see what emotions he could evoke in others and what surprises he could find within himself.

Sitting in his study, scripts piled high around him, he sighed in frustration. One after another, he skimmed through them, barely finishing some. Nothing was sparking anything within him.

Then, he saw it—a script bound in beautiful purple. Intrigued, he picked it up and opened it. His cerulean eyes went wide as he began reading. The characters leapt off the page, their emotions vivid and real. The dialogue was sharp, the plot both heartwarming and complex. For the first time in weeks, he felt a thrill of excitement.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and dialed his manager. "Hey, Sho, can you get me information about this rom-com role?" he asked, his voice brimming with anticipation.

There was a pause on the other end before Shoko replied, "Which one are you talking about, Satoru?"

"The one with the purple cover. It's called 'Love in Full Bloom.' I want to know everything about it—who's directing, the production company, and especially who's playing the female lead." he explained, flipping through the pages eagerly.

Shoko chuckled. "I'll get right on it. You sound pretty excited about this one, Satoru. Never seen it before.”

"I am." Satoru admitted, a smile tugging at his lips. "There's something special about this script. I can feel it."

As he waited for more information, Satoru continued reading, already envisioning himself in the role. The male lead, a charming yet flawed character, was unlike any he had played before.

And the female lead—her character was layered and complex, someone he could see himself having great on-screen chemistry with. His mind raced with possibilities, the scenes playing out vividly in his imagination.

When his phone rang again, he answered it immediately. "What did you find out?"

"Well, the director is a rising star in the industry, known for their fresh take on romance films. The production company is solid, and they're putting a lot of resources into this project. As for the female lead, it’s still up in the air. They’re auditioning some big names, but nothing's finalized yet," Shoko informed him.

"Great!" Satoru said, his excitement building. "Let's set up a meeting. I want to discuss this role in detail and see if I can get an audition."

"Will do. I'll arrange it and get back to you with the details," his manager confirmed.

As he hung up, Satoru felt a renewed sense of purpose. This was the spark he had been looking for, the change of pace he needed. With 'Love in Full Bloom,' he could explore new facets of his craft and bring a fresh perspective to his acting. The thought of delving into this character and the story filled him with a sense of exhilaration he hadn't felt in a long time.

The meeting was scheduled for the following week, and Satoru spent the days leading up to it immersing himself in the script. By the time the day arrived, he was more than prepared. He walked into the room with confidence, his cerulean eyes alight with determination.

As the director and producers listened to his thoughts on the character and the story, they nodded in agreement, clearly impressed by his passion and insight. When the meeting concluded, Satoru felt a surge of hope.

Weeks later, he received the call he had been waiting for. "Congratulations, Satoru. The role is yours, ’toru." Shoko announced.

A wide grin spread across his face as he absorbed the news. "Thank you, Sho. I’m excited for this one.”

“Oh, by the way, they announced who the female lead is.”

“Hm? Who is it?”

It was you. The world’s darling. You have always been on the screen since your childhood too. Pretty quickly, the world fell for how sweet you were, and how beautiful you were. You started at the same time as Satoru, he was pretty sure. But somehow, your worlds didn’t cross until now. You were after all focused on your own body of work—where of course, you were always the lead.

Little did he know that this role would not only reignite his love for acting but also lead him to someone who would change his life forever. As he prepared for the first day of filming, he couldn't shake the feeling that 'Love in Full Bloom' was just the beginning of an extraordinary journey.

He had signed on to film a romantic comedy, a genre he had yet to explore fully in his whole career and met you, his co-star. During the first table read, it was somehow inevitable that Gojo Satoru's eyes met yours. And he felt an instant connection, you waved at him enthusiastically. He felt his face turn bright red, he cleared his throat and greeted you and went back to his script.

It was too much somehow, the way you looked at him. Your radiant smile and the sparkle in your eyes were captivating. As you read your lines, your natural charisma and wit shone through, making him feel as though the two of you had known each other for years. Satoru could feel the intensity of it.

"Wow, you’re amazing there." Satoru said, unable to hide his admiration as he looked at you. “I haven’t seen someone do that before, cry on cue? Not even Yuuji could do it!”

You grinned at him, a twinkle of mischief in your eyes. "Likewise, Mr. Leading Man. You’re so cool with how you can just go line for line. It’s why you’re so perfect in Jujutsu Kaisen!”

He could feel himself being bashful, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Ah, you think so?”

“No, I know so, Gojo. You’re so cool like that.”

“Thank you so much. You’re just as cool to me.”

“Oh, I doubt that!” You giggle at his words. He thinks your giggles are cute. “You’re always going to be cooler.”

“Hey, uh….I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Your eyes were tender when they gazed at him. You smiled. “I’m looking forward to working with you too, Gojo.”

“You can call me Satoru.”

“Oh well, call me by my name too.”

When you looked at him and told him your name, he just felt lost. You were so beautiful at that moment. It’s like time slowed, it's like god had given him some time to marvel at the wonder of you. He could feel how his heart was thumping. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this before. You grinned at him, raising a thumb up at him.

“Let’s make some movie magic, okay?"

He chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through him. "Absolutely."

As filming began, the on-screen chemistry translated seamlessly into your off-screen interactions. This was the most relaxed he’d ever been on a set. He’d love Jujutsu Kaisen’s set because he’d become good friends with everyone — that had made everything easier. But it just felt different with you together.

Between takes, the two of you would exchange jokes, share stories, and find yourselves lost in conversations that lasted long after the director called cut. Sometimes you eat on your trailers together, you even go out to drink some times and explore the sets together, talking about the mundane.

But lately he would catch you watching him from afar on set. Sometimes, you would often catch him stealing glances at you, his cerulean eyes filled with genuine affection.

One day, during a particularly challenging scene, Gojo Satoru found himself struggling to stay in character. He was not feeling it today, and he doesn’t know why.

He’s trying so hard, but he keeps making mistakes. The lines felt forced, and he couldn't seem to connect with the emotions. You noticed his frustration and pulled him aside.

"Hey, what's going on?" you asked, your tone gentle but concerned.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I just can't seem to get into it today."

You smiled, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Let's take a break and come back to it. Sometimes all we need is a moment to reset."

Your understanding and support meant the world to him. He’d worked with people who were horrible at being understanding about off days. But you were different. You were kind and perceptive, noticing his struggle before he even said a word.

"Hey, let's take five," you suggested softly, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Satoru nodded, grateful for your intervention. You walked over to the director together, and you spoke up before he could. "We need a break. Satoru's having a tough time today, and I think a little rest will help us get back on track."

The director looked from you to Satoru and then sighed, nodding. "Alright, everyone, take a ten-minute break."

As the crew dispersed, you led Satoru outside to a quiet spot. The cool breeze was refreshing, and the tension in his shoulders began to ease. He looked at you with a mixture of gratitude and admiration.

"Thank you," he said, his voice sincere. "I’ve worked with people who wouldn’t have given a damn about how I was feeling. But you…you’re different."

You smiled, a gentle warmth in your eyes. "We’re a team, Satoru. If one of us is off, it affects the whole production. Besides, I care about you. I want to see you at your best, and sometimes that means taking a step back."

He felt a swell of emotion in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. "You’re amazing, you know that?"

You laughed softly, a sound that felt like a balm to his frazzled nerves. "I will try. Now, let's take a deep breath and reset. We’ll get through this scene together."

Satoru took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air fill his lungs and clear his mind. Standing there with you, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. You were right. This was a team effort, and he wasn’t alone in it.

When the break ended and you both returned to the set, there was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. Satoru felt more relaxed, more connected to the scene, and it showed in his performance. The lines flowed naturally, and the chemistry between you two was palpable.

The director called cut, a satisfied smile on his face. "That was perfect! Great job, both of you."

Satoru turned to you, his eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. "You really are my good luck charm." he said, his voice filled with affection.

You shrugged playfully. "Just doing my part. Now, let’s wrap this up and go celebrate finishing the scene!"

As the day came to a close and the crew packed up, Satoru felt a contentment he hadn’t felt in a long time. That night, as you both walked out of the studio together, he realized just how much he had come to care for you.

The lines between on-screen romance and real-life feelings had blurred, and he found himself hoping that this connection you shared would continue to grow, both on and off the screen.

As the weeks passed, he realized he was falling for you. The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him, and the way you brought out the best in him—it was all becoming impossible to ignore.

One evening, after a long day of filming, you both found yourselves alone on the set. The crew had packed up, and the stars were twinkling above, casting a magical glow over the scene. Gojo Satoru decided it was time to tell you how he felt.

"Hey," he called softly, walking over to where you stood, gazing up at the night sky.

You turned to him, a curious smile on your lips. "Hey yourself. What's up?"

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I've been wanting to tell you something. Working with you has been incredible. More than that, it's made me realize how much I care about you."

You blinked in surprise, your cheeks flushing slightly. "Satoru…"

He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "I know we have a job to do, but I can't pretend that I don't feel this way. I think…no, I know that I'm falling for you."

Your eyes softened, and you reached out to take his hand. "I feel the same way," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But what do we do about it?"

"We take it one day at a time," he replied, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "We keep it between us for now, and we see where it goes. What matters is that we're honest with each other."

You nodded, a smile breaking across your face. "I'd like that."

From that moment on, your relationship blossomed in secret. The stolen glances, the shared whispers, and the quiet moments away from prying eyes made your connection even stronger. Every day on set became a delicate dance of professional focus and personal longing. The chemistry that had sparked between you on screen spilled into real life, creating a bond that felt unbreakable.

During lunch breaks, you'd steal away to a secluded spot on the studio lot, sharing sandwiches and laughter. In the evenings, you’d slip into each other’s trailers, finding solace in each other’s company. The more time you spent together, the more you realized how deeply you had fallen for each other.

Despite the mounting affection, you both decided to keep your relationship a secret. The media's scrutiny and the inevitable gossip seemed like obstacles you could do without. So, you reveled in your private moments, finding solace in the fact that your love was your own, untainted by public opinion.

"Hey, do you think anyone suspects?" Satoru asked one evening, his hand entwined with yours as you lay on the couch in his trailer.

You chuckled softly, resting your head on his shoulder. "Maybe. But they won’t say anything. We’ve been careful."

He kissed the top of your head, a tender gesture that made your heart flutter. "I don’t want this to end."

"Neither do I," you admitted, looking up at him. "But we both know what happens once filming wraps up."

Satoru's expression softened, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of longing and resignation. "I know," he murmured, his voice tinged with sadness. "But that doesn't mean we can't cherish the time we have left."

You nodded in agreement, the weight of impending separation settling heavily in the pit of your stomach. "I just wish things could be different," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru tightened his grip on your hand, his touch a silent reassurance in the face of uncertainty. "Me too," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "But for now, let's make the most of every moment we have together."

The trailer, once a sanctuary of laughter and shared secrets, now seemed tinged with a melancholy air, the walls echoing with the soft whispers of unspoken fears and unshed tears. Outside, the world carried on its bustling pace, oblivious to the quiet turmoil that gripped your hearts.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you and Satoru sought solace in the familiar warmth of your embrace, clinging to the fleeting moments of closeness as if they were the only lifeline in a sea of uncertainty. The soft glow of lamplight cast gentle shadows across the room, illuminating the contours of your faces as you gazed into each other's eyes, silently communicating the depth of your shared longing.

The silence between you was palpable, heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled dreams. Every breath felt like a sigh, every touch a bittersweet reminder of the inevitable parting that loomed on the horizon. And yet, in the midst of the impending farewell, there was a quiet strength that bound you together, an unspoken promise to hold onto each other for as long as you could.

In those precious moments, time seemed to stand still, frozen in the embrace of your love. The world outside faded into obscurity, its chaotic rhythms muted by the gentle cadence of your heartbeat as it echoed in sync with Satoru's own. And for a fleeting instant, you dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, love could conquer all, even the relentless march of time itself.

Satoru's hand tightened around yours, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes of his affection and devotion. His words echoed the sentiments swirling in your mind, a shared desire to prolong the fleeting moments of happiness you found in each other's arms.

Your heart ached at the thought of bidding farewell to the warmth of his embrace, the familiarity of his touch. Yet, even as the specter of separation loomed on the horizon, you found solace in the depth of your connection, a bond that transcended the confines of time and circumstance.

As you gazed into his eyes, you found yourself echoing his sentiment, a whisper of vulnerability in your voice betraying the depth of your emotions. In that moment, amidst the quiet intimacy of your shared space, you were acutely aware of the ephemeral nature of your love, a fleeting flame that burned bright against the backdrop of uncertainty.

As the final scenes were shot and the film neared completion, the reality of your situation began to set in. You were due to return to California, while Satoru would stay behind, continuing his work in Japan. He had a commitment to Jujutsu Kaisen, a series that had skyrocketed in popularity and demanded his attention. You didn’t want to cause him issues. And you knew he was thinking it too. But he just doesn’t want to say it.

You had other projects lined up, your career flourishing in the vibrant and competitive world of Hollywood. The thought of being apart filled you with a sense of dread, but neither of you wanted to bring it up, fearing it would shatter the fragile happiness you had built.

During the last days on set, there was a palpable tension between you two. Your conversations were still filled with laughter and teasing, but beneath the surface, there was an undercurrent of sadness and uncertainty. Satoru's cerulean eyes often held a distant look, as if he was already missing you before you had even left.

One evening, as the crew was packing up for the day, you found yourselves alone in the dressing room. Satoru was seated on the couch, staring at the script in his hands, though you could tell his mind was elsewhere. You walked over and sat beside him, placing a hand on his knee.

"Satoru," you began softly, "We need to talk about what's next."

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions. "I know," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've been trying to avoid it, but we can't ignore it any longer."

"I don't know if I can do long distance," you confessed one night, your voice filled with sadness. "I care about you so much, but our lives are so different."

He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. "We can make it work. We have to try."

You shook your head, tears brimming in your eyes. "I don't want to hold you back, Satoru. You have your career here, and I have mine in California. Maybe…maybe it's best if we end things now, before it gets even harder."

His heart ached at your words, but he understood. "If that's what you want, darling." he said softly, his voice breaking.

"It's not what I want." you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "But it's what we need."

With one last kiss, you said your goodbyes. Satoru watched as you walked away, his heart heavy with the loss. He knew he would never forget you, the one who had shown him what true connection felt like. And as he returned to his life, he carried the hope that, one day, fate would bring you back together.

He turned to you, his cerulean eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and understanding. "I get it." he replied, his voice tinged with sadness. "But it doesn't make this any easier."

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "I care about you so much. This has been incredible, but we both know how tough it will be."

Gojo nodded, squeezing your hand gently. "I don't want to lose you." he admitted, "But I also don't want to make this harder on you."

He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. "You're right. It would be too hard, with our schedules and the time difference. But that doesn't make this any easier."

"I know," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "But we have to be practical. We can't hold each other back."

He reached out and took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "I'll never forget what we had. These past few months have been some of the best of my life."

You leaned in and kissed him gently, savoring the moment. "Me too, Satoru. I'll always cherish our time together."

As days were settling down to your departure, each moment seemed to carry the weight of inevitability, mingling joy and sorrow in equal measure. The wrap party, intended to be a celebration of the film's completion, became a poignant reminder of the impending separation.

Laughter echoed through the room, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the lively beat of music, yet beneath the surface, there lingered an undeniable sense of melancholy.

Amidst the swirl of activity, you found solace in the presence of Satoru, seeking refuge in the comfort of his familiar company. Together, you navigated the crowded room, your gazes often meeting in silent understanding.

In those stolen moments between conversations and laughter, there was a depth of emotion that transcended words, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had grown between you.

As the night wore on, you found yourselves drawn to each other, seeking solace in the warmth of shared affection. Amidst the flickering lights and the gentle sway of bodies on the dance floor, you found a fleeting respite from the weight of impending farewell. In those stolen moments, amidst the backdrop of celebration and camaraderie, you clung to each other, unwilling to let go of the fleeting moments of happiness that remained.

That night, you found yourselves back in his trailer, the air heavy with unspoken words. As you lay in his arms, you felt a sense of finality, knowing that this would be your last night together.

"I wish things were different," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"Me too," you whispered, your voice trembling. "But we'll always have these memories."

He held you tighter, as if trying to imprint the feel of you into his memory. "Promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"I promise," you replied, tears slipping down your cheeks. "You too, Satoru. Take care of yourself."

At the terminal, he pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "No matter where you are, I'll always be thinking of you."

You blinked back tears, kissing him one last time. "And I'll always cherish our time together," you replied, your voice breaking.

The soft hum of the airplane engines filled the cabin as you settled into your seat, the familiar sensation of takeoff sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. As Japan fell away beneath you, the city lights gradually dwindling into tiny specks against the vast expanse of darkness, a sense of melancholy settled over you like a heavy blanket.

With each passing minute, the distance between you and Tokyo grew, stretching across the horizon like an unbridgeable chasm. The memories of your time together with Satoru lingered in your mind, haunting you like echoes of a dream long past. The laughter, the tears, the whispered promises exchanged in the quiet moments of intimacy—they all seemed like distant echoes of a reality that now felt impossibly far away.

Outside the airplane window, the world rushed by in a blur of lights and shadows, the landscape below shifting and changing with every passing mile. And yet, despite the constant motion, a part of you felt rooted in place, anchored to the memories of your time in Japan and the bittersweet ache of saying goodbye.

Meanwhile, back in Tokyo, Satoru stood at the terminal window, his gaze fixed on the dwindling speck of your departing plane as it disappeared into the night sky. A sense of longing gripped his heart, a yearning for the warmth of your presence and the comfort of your touch.

As the final traces of your plane vanished from sight, Satoru made a silent vow to hold onto the memories of your time together, to cherish them like precious treasures tucked away in the deepest recesses of his heart. For even though the miles now stretched between you, he knew that your bond transcended distance and time, a love that would endure even the greatest of challenges.

Now you're in California

And he’s still waitin' for ya

Will you change your mind?

Satoru thinks would give it all up

As long as you both become an ‘us’

IT WAS HARD TO BELIEVE A YEAR’S PASSED. As the final scenes of Jujutsu Kaisen wrapped up for Satoru Gojo's character, he anticipated a much-needed break to unwind and rejuvenate. After all, the relentless filming schedule had left him yearning for some solitude and relaxation.

So, when he found himself concluding another exhausting day on set, he didn't expect any interruptions. However, the sound of a knock on his door piqued his curiosity, stirring a faint sense of intrigue within him.

Approaching the door with a mixture of surprise and anticipation, Satoru swung it open, revealing the unexpected yet delightful sight of you standing on his doorstep. A small, enigmatic smile played upon your lips, instantly lifting the weight of fatigue from his shoulders. In that moment, he felt a rush of warmth flood his being, a welcome reprieve from the demands of his hectic schedule.

Despite the weariness lingering in his bones, Satoru couldn't suppress the spark of curiosity that ignited within him. What could have brought you here, he wondered, in this moment of respite? As he gazed upon your familiar face, he found himself drawn to your presence, eager to unravel the mystery behind your unexpected visit.

With a gentle smile and a twinkle of curiosity in his eyes, Satoru welcomed you into his home, ready to embrace the unexpected turn of events and the company of a cherished friend.

"Hey," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth. "Can I come in?"

"Of course," Satoru replied, stepping aside to let you enter. He watched as you made your way into his apartment, taking in the familiar surroundings with a sense of nostalgia.

As you settled onto the couch, Satoru couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions wash over him. It had been so long since he had last seen you, and yet the sight of you sitting there felt oddly comforting.

"I've missed you, Satoru." you said, breaking the silence that hung between you. “I really did.”

Satoru's heart skipped a beat at your words, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of longing and regret. "I've missed you too, darling." he admitted quietly.

As the hours passed in the comfortable embrace of conversation, the atmosphere between you and Satoru grew increasingly intimate. Words flowed effortlessly, weaving tales of shared memories and dreams for the future. Laughter mingled with moments of quiet reflection, creating a tapestry of shared experiences and aspirations.

However, as the conversation delved into more serious territory, a solemn undertone settled over the room. In the gentle glow of subdued lighting, you found yourself unable to suppress the weight of regret that had long been weighing upon your heart. With a hesitant breath, you voiced the thoughts that had been gnawing at your conscience, allowing vulnerability to seep into the space between you.

Each word carried the weight of unspoken emotions as you bare your soul, laying bare the regrets that had lingered in the recesses of your mind. Memories of past mistakes and missed opportunities surfaced, casting shadows upon the present moment. Yet, in the quiet stillness of the night, you found solace in the act of confession, seeking redemption in the honesty of your words.

As you spoke, Satoru listened with unwavering attention, his gaze filled with empathy and understanding. There was no judgment in his eyes, only a profound sense of compassion that enveloped you like a comforting embrace. In that moment of vulnerability, you found solace in the shared intimacy of confession, unburdening your heart of the regrets that had held you captive for so long.

"I wish I had been willing to try being with you," you confessed, your voice tinged with sorrow. "I was so scared of getting hurt that I pushed you away."

Satoru reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I've never changed my mind," he said earnestly. "I've always wanted to be with you."

You looked up at him, your eyes searching for any sign of doubt. "Would you like it if I came to stay with you?" you asked hesitantly. "To try and fix what we broke?"

A smile tugged at the corners of Satoru's lips as he reached out to take your hand in his. "I'd like that," he replied softly. "More than anything."

You pulled you close and let his lips press on yours.

You smiled against his lips as you returned the favor.

You were the happiest you were in a very long time.

Because now you could truly be together, an ‘us’.

epilogue

The press tour was supposed to be a straightforward affair, a chance to promote your film together and engage with fans. But little did you know, it would turn into a hilariously chaotic adventure thanks to Satoru Gojo's inability to keep his feelings for you under wraps.

As you and Satoru made your way to the first stop on the tour, you couldn't help but notice the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Remember, Satoru," you whispered, trying to keep a straight face, "We agreed to keep our relationship on the down-low during the interviews."

Satoru flashed you a grin, his signature smirk bordering on outright mischief. "Of course, darling," he replied, his voice dripping with faux innocence. "I'm the epitome of discretion. Don’t you worry about me.”

But as soon as the interviews began, it became abundantly clear that discretion was the last thing on Satoru's mind. He couldn't resist sneaking affectionate glances your way, his gaze lingering a beat too long and his smiles a tad too fond.

At first, you tried to play it cool, offering subtle nudges and warning glances whenever Satoru's antics threatened to give away your secret. But as the day wore on, it became increasingly evident that Satoru was a lost cause when it came to hiding his feelings.

As the interviewer leaned in, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, she posed the question that had been lingering in the air like a tantalizing secret. "So, tell us about the incredible on-screen chemistry between you two. What's the secret?"

Satoru's eyes lit up with an almost mischievous sparkle as he leaned forward, ready to deliver his response with all the dramatic flair he could muster. "Ah, the chemistry," he began, his voice dripping with theatricality. "It's like the universe conspired to bring us together, like two celestial bodies destined to collide in a glorious explosion of... of... chemistry!"

You couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his over-the-top theatrics, trying to maintain a facade of professionalism as you exchanged a knowing glance with the interviewer. But Satoru was on a roll, his enthusiasm impossible to contain.

"It's like when you mix sodium with water," he continued, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. "Boom! Instant chemistry! Except, you know, without the explosions and potential loss of eyebrows."

The interviewer chuckled nervously, unsure whether to be amused or concerned by Satoru's increasingly elaborate metaphors. "Um, right," she said, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "So, how do you two prepare for those emotionally intense scenes?"

Satoru's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, you know," he replied, his voice laden with innuendo. "Lots of... uh... method acting exercises. And plenty of off-screen... rehearsals."

You nearly choked on your water, desperately trying to suppress a snort of laughter as Satoru winked at you with a devilish grin. It was clear that keeping a straight face during this interview was going to be a lost cause, but hey, at least it made for great entertainment.

The interviewer leaned in, her eyes gleaming with curiosity and mischief. "Oh, there's a story to tell between you two, Gojo-san. I can feel it!"

Satoru threw his head back with a hearty laugh, his infectious chuckle filling the room. "Oh, you have no idea!" he teased, shooting you a playful wink. "But I'm keeping it hush, hush, okay? Only I get to enjoy what my precious darling here, hm? None for any of you!"

You could practically feel the collective eyebrow raises from the rest of the cast and crew, their knowing glances leaving no doubt that they knew it all too well.  Some were even trying to hide their laughter, some were just plain stunned. 

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his theatrical declaration, trying to stifle a giggle as you shook your head in mock exasperation. "You're impossible, Satoru." you teased, unable to hide the fondness in your voice.

But Satoru simply grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned in closer. "Ah, but that's why you love me, darling," he quipped, his tone filled with playful arrogance. "Now, let's keep the focus on the show, shall we? We wouldn't want to give away all our secrets just yet."

The interviewer nodded eagerly, though it was clear that she was already mentally drafting headlines about the mysterious off-screen romance between the two of you. But as the interview continued, punctuated by Satoru's irreverent humor and your shared laughter, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the chaos he brought into your life. After all, who else could turn a simple press tour into a riotous adventure filled with laughter and love?

By the end of the day, it was clear that your attempts at discretion had failed spectacularly. But as you and Satoru collapsed into fits of giggles backstage, you realized that maybe, just maybe, keeping your relationship under wraps was overrated. After all, who could resist the charm of a man so hopelessly in love?

[melancholicstation]

Take Me Out To The Ball Game — john f. kennedy

taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @kennediva @h-l-vlovesvintage @h-l-v-kennedy-blog @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @tsloverr-13

authors note: i use jfk's nickname "jack" in this if you're confused!

summary: you’re self-imposed pity party after your failed romance with a left-end jack kennedy is interrupted when you dragged along by your girlfriends to a football game held at the harvard crimson. you were comfortable going as you were assured that jack had gotten sick with strep days prior. what you didn’t know, however, was that as you’re eyes glaze over the field a certain insufferable blue-eyed boy would be quick to meet your gaze…

warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, sleazy man, public sex at a baseball field, bit of degradation but not too much.

words: 2808

Now you wouldn't regard yourself as the kind of woman to lose herself in mindless rumination over a failed collegiate love, but looking down at yourself from a birds-eye perspective: you just may have been kidding yourself.

To put it plainly you're a wreck. Emotionally strictly. One disposition you count your lucky stars for is the ardent dedication that you carry within yourself to the performance of femininity. And by god was it a performance, entirely unnatural to you.

This love stupor you've been in for 8 to 9 business days simply needed to end, and your new attitude started with you discarding the days-old clothes you donned while rotting away in your poster board twin-size bed. Deny as you have many times to yourself, you didn't wear these clothes out of a slobbish penchant for convenience or pure happenstance, you wore them because they smelled of him: feeling that if you wore something that had once touched his skin that you too could still inhabit the body of the boy who you had lost. Still touch what had so cruelly been ripped away from you from the very boy himself. What a cruel boy he'd morphed into these past few days.

You rummaged through the large chest of drawers that your mother just insisted you keep for "functionality" knowing full well her hatred of the object: a dreadful eyesore of a gift from your grandmother on your father's side. You decided upon a poplin sleeveless dress tastefully skimming the fleshy part of your upper thigh. You move ghostly, in a pathetic slump-like state towards your vanity: a treasure in dorm-living, and start to unpack your beauty packing cubes: one labelled "hair", one labelled "skin", and one labelled "make-up" in thick bolded typewriter font. Some time passed and before you knew it you were applying your last coat of sérum teinté N°1 when you were rudely interrupted by a barrage of knocking and girlish condescending shouts from the other side of your dorm door.

You roll your eyes, despite being unconsciously excited to experience the delightful distraction of girlhood in the form of your girlfriends. As soon as you unlock the door, each of your girlfriends bound through the door every one of pawing at you with a look of pity in their eyes. "Oh come on don't look at me like that I'm not dead yet: I can smell the sympathy on all of you"

Betty, a friend who had eagerly sought you out during orientation, and attached herself to you, not unlike a succubus escapertaly exclaimed "Well you don't look far from death sweetheart why do you think we made the trouble to come up five flights of stairs looking for you? You are a case of upmost urgency!"

"Well I--" you're excuses are cut short when Betty's partner in crime: Alana pipes up, a brown-haired girl who stood at maximum 5 foot 4, "Oh come on y/n!, you think we'd show up if you weren't in dire straights. Take a look at my shoes--" She physically moves your hand to feel the leather glide over your fingertips "--do you really think I'd risk dirtying the soles of brand new Dior slingbacks on dormitory stairwells if we weren't really concerned about you?"

"I suppose you may be right. It's downright dreadful what's he's done to me. Before him I felt I was made for great, I had hopes for the future. But now all I sincerely believe that my being, my flesh and blood was created to love him, to tend to him. And I know it isn't right or near darn healthy to feel or think this way but dammit I do--and it's proving damn near impossible to shake."

By the end of your monologue your hands had begun to shake and your face to become an odd shade of green, nearly immediately the hands of your two friends came to encompass you whole. You knew they didn't understand, couldn't comprehend the stupor he had placed on you, but they cared enough to listen and that was even for now.

After a well-needed clean up job by your friends, who more closely resembled catholic saints at this point, of your dormitory littered with stained coffee mugs, pomegranates seeds on the windowsill, and a plate of un-touched steak fries from the cafeteria.

It was during this time that you'd been asked--no informed that you and them would attend the four o'clock baseball game at the Harvard crimson. A grim place for even people in the highest of spirits: a setting marked by the unmistakable musk of fake grass, cheap mulled beer, and an overflow of appalling showcases of testosterone.

"And you're sure he's not going to be there. Not even in a twenty foot radius?"

"Who Jack? God no he told coach that he had strep throat. Probably rotting away in bed as we speak. Serves him right for what he's done to such an innocent like you." Betty says. You quietly scoff at "innocent girl" if only they knew what perverted, sickening acts you had done with jack, simply in the last fews months: on desks, on lampposts, in the backs of cars, simply anywhere and everywhere that had no present inhabitants that you two could surmise.

"Now that that silly thought is out of your head you need to get into that bedroom and find an nice looking dress, just because you feel awful doesn't give you the right to look it" Alana says in a tone so backhanded it could only come from a motherly kind of love.

You reluctantly do what she says, with a slight pep in your step, despite the pitfalls of the crimson sport arenas you were always a fan of anywhere you could smoke and drink at 2:00 pm and not look like a total degenerate slob.

You take a quick admiring glance at the 18th century armoire, the one prized possession you had forcibly removed from your childhood bedroom in New Hampshire along with you for the move much to your mother's dismay, and survey your options of dress. You zero in on a particular pair of field shorts which are clearly not yours but Jacks.

*flashback*

"When are you gonna change for the date?" You say to jack with applying your about tenth coat of rouge onto your lips, checks, and eyelids. "Whadda you mean sweetheart? I am dressed" Jack teases kissing his way up your neck making eye contact with his reflection. How vain.

You survey him from top to bottom, the top half of him is lacklustre but workable: a cream pullover with the collar of his white collared shirt peeping out every so slightly. But the bottom half is down-right offensive: tennis socks paired with field shorts so tight that there's a pronounced bulge noticeable to the naked eye. "Oh Jack you've gotta change. Don't you know we're going out with my friends--who trust me will not find it as comical as your friends would. I feel like it's staring right at me."

"Do you wanna' kneel down and take them right off, then they can really stare right at you honey?" Jack chuckles, always ready for a sexual escape even on an uneventful Wednesday evening. His sexual drive was concerning at best and rotted to the core at worst. But despite this, you too seemed to be afflicted by the same kind of constant desire around the presence of Jack. So you did as you were told, kneeled and started slipping of his boxers with little complaint and complete submission.

*end of flashback*

You're released from your temporary haze, as a knock comes at your bedroom door: it's Betty "Y/n we'll be waiting outside for you in the courtyard. Don't be more than 10 minutes I really don't want to wait in those retched lines with those retched Harvard boys."

You reply to her with an affirmation signally that you'll be out in a minute and turn quickly back to your armoire. As undergarments you went for the staples: a silk georgette camisole, and slip skirt. Quickly you find a wool dress cut above the knee in a pattern reminiscent of a kaleidoscope, detailed with mother of pearl buttons trading from your neck all the way down to your mid-behind (authors note: for imaginative purposes imagine those iconic Alexander McQueen dresses but make it 1930s era). You slip on a pair of slightly beaten up heeled oxfords and grab your favourite nappa leather bag. You glide out of your dormitory, drift down the stairwell with the temperament of a girl who desperately needs to spend some time with her beloved friends.

As your trio enters the stadium you tell Alana and Betty to go up and gather the greasy yet delightful treats and drinks while you go find each of your seats in the bustling chaos. You finally find the seating number after bumbling around for longer than you would've liked to admit. And before you know it Alana and Betty have come back mulled bear in hand an dried peanuts in the other, seemingly without delay the home team takes their defensive positions and the game gets well and truly under way.

But just as your mind is finally taken away from the blonde-haired equivalent of a sea barnacle on your brain that simply won't get off the interior of your mind: you spot him in the flesh.

A tanned face and beaming pair of blue-grey eyes meet yours from across the field. Definitely not the face of a person suffering from strep throat and is most definitely the face of the man who'd shattered your heart with a simple note stating that he couldn't "do this anymore" left on the windowsill: John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

Your friends hadn't caught on, clearly as they continued business as usual for the rest of the game, trying and failing in engaging you in conversation about what was transpiring on the field. But you couldn't pay attention, no you were paying particular attention to one man on the field.

The game ends unceremoniously, with Alana drenched from the amount of times Betty had thrown her hands in anger spilling mulled bear across the seats, and her friend.

But just as you three gather yourselves to get going, a familiar touch caress the clothed skin of your shoulder. Jack. "Funny seeing you here, I'd hoped you were withering away in that dorm of yours from Strep. Clearly not."

"You know I hate to disappoint you but I seem to have made a miraculously quick recovery. Dr. Schuab says it was the fastest he's ever seen!" Jack chuckles in an effort to diffuse the present tension that one could only cut with a butcher's knife.

"Well now that's not the truth, our last encounter disappointed me greatly"

"I know that Honey--" you physically recoiled at the term of endearment, a mix of revulsion at the man he caused you and the desire that the very presence of him inspired in you.

"--and that's why I came to talk to you. Look you stay here and I'm going to clean up and come right back to explain it all to you. Promise you'll wait for me, it'll be worth your while."

You quietly nod in shock immediately defaulting to agreeing to whatever he says, he has that certain effect on you it would seem. And before you know it Jack's scrambling to keep up with his teammates before entering the locker rooms.

Jack keeps you waiting for about 15 minutes, a minute longer and you would've walked out until you saw that beaming face barrelling towards you. Without a word he took your hand, leading you down a flight on stairs and directly onto the field. "Isn't this like totally, one-hundred percent illegal?"

"I wouldn't worry about it. See those floodlights up there? Dad funded them." Jack says in a tone trying to portray humbleness but failing in an adorable manner.

Your still stood fully upright as jack plops his body onto the fake turf, rolling around like a labrador in the summer heat. But just as quickly, his eyes zero in on you and he crawls his way, ever so slowly to your feet.

You squint your eyes in confusion as he goes to rest his head upon the fleshy part of your stomach, placidly placing suggestive kisses around the area. You quickly take the base of his head within his hands--"Now what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Just resting. Is it bothering you?" He says innocently "No what's bothering me is that you're acting like nothing happened, like you didn't completely cut me off."

"Baby I was being stupid, you gotta forgive me. I get like that sometimes, a compulsion of sorts to run. It had nothing to do with you." Jack says, and you don't know if youyourre stupid or smart for believing his words. You become puddy in his hands, slowly dropping to the grass as he starts to suck on your stomach with his lips, desperate to leave a mark. A monument.

Jack slowly taps on your face, waking you out of the passionate haze, and delicately slips his digits into your mouth. Encouraging and praising you to keep sucking them, telling you "what a good girl you're being for him" "the best in the god damn world". His moves are as smooth as a ballet dancers as he enters them into your warm, engorged mound. His fingers are an inviting stretch that leaves you whimpering to an empty stadium. As you moans start to increase in brevity and volume Jack places you on your back and starts to climb on top of you overing words of encourgament

"--Oh it's a big stretch isn't it. I haven't been taking care of you have I? I need to remedy that for my best girl don't I Huh? Don't I?" he says in a tone so patronising it's deeply arousing. Suddenly he stops his motions "Come on Y/n I wanna hear you say it. You need my help."

Your pleas come out quick and breathy "I do I do-Jack you have no idea". Once you reach your climax you feel as though you've been possessed, a good all-encompassing possession that you pray to never be broken free of. In the struggle the valley of your breasts are now fully exposed to Jack and in typical Jack fashion he uses this to his advantage.

Consistently sucking on your nipples while unbuttoning the fly of his pants and boxers all at the same time. It's then when you release a sticky substance coating his boxers. It's only then that you realise that in the haze of your personal euphoria, you had missed that Jack had came in his pants simply from pleasuring you. What a sight that was.

In recognising this you unconsciously giggle to yourself, to which Jack notices quickly throwing his soiled underwear and pants to the side "Hey now, what's got you giggling?"

"Nothing" you breath out, turning your head to the side feeling it be slightly irritated by the artificial turf. "Oh nothing really? We'll i'll give you something to giggle about, c'mere" quickly he grabs dominant possession of your hips and plunges his cock into your warm mound, already sensitive. Plunging in and out, in and out. And in such quick succession that you're sure to have grass burn the next morning.

He continues until for a while until he completely removes himself, and rests his member on your stomach slapping it around the flesh just to tease your already desperate frame, before quickly inserting it back where it belongs. "Best girl, pretty please hold on just for a minute, want to cum with you around me."

"Can't--Jack I-i"

"Yes you can and you will" Jack says in a tone that leaves no room for rebuttal. Finally you know you can finally let go when the tell-tale signs of Jack's impending climax appears: the relaxed eyebrows, shut eyelids, and rapid movements.

Jack holds you tight to your chest, his hot spurts filling you up wholeheartedly. Minutes later you stay like this, held together by each other's limbs.

"You think you can walk--never mind" Jack changes his mind mid-sentence after taking a look at you, completely blissed out, and adopts a bridal-carry despite his poor back, transporting you from one end of the field to the other.

You start to drift off as he carries you out of the stadium and back onto campus grounds, lullabied by the sound of his breaths and the faint kisses he litters across the crown of your head. The most delightful jewels any girl in Massachusetts could even dream of having.

the end.

[arcaneauthor]

Tattoos Tell A Story part 2

Part 1 here, Part 3 here

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Summary: You decide to give Ghost a taste of his own medicine

Warnings: None?, Some kissing??, FLUFF, Ghost being bby gurl

A/n: This was requested by @v1naco . I hope I did your wonderful idea justice! Also how the heck did this end up so long??

You would like to make one thing clear.

You love watching Simon get tattoos.

Not only is his deliciously huge arm on full display, but the way his muscles flex when the needle hit a particularly sensitive part of his arm?

Oh you were down bad.

Yes you know he’s technically in pain but come onnn-

He had wanted to get the date of one of his most recent victorious mission tattooed on the inside of his bicep.

What kind of mission was it? You weren’t sure, you know, with it being “classified” and all.

He told you in secret at home

Once told of his plans, you had immediately accepted to tag along and boy are you glad you did. Originally it was for the purpose of just spending as much time with your boyfriend as possible, but you didn’t realize it’d be such a sight.

“Enjoying the view there sweetheart?”

You startle slightly, flicking your eyes away from his arm to Ghost’s masked face. You know there’s a smirk hiding under there somewhere.

Cocky bastard

You clear your throat, repositioning in your seat slightly ,”Uh, no I-I was just….. admiring Jackson’s handiwork.” You claim.

Simon looks you up and down,“Mhm, whatever you say love.”

Jackson, the tattoo artist, just chuckles at the couples antics, eyes never leaving his work.

Ghost knew Jackson pretty well due to him having worked on most of his arm sleeve. He was the only artist in the area that would agree to the service of a scarily large man in a sketchy skull mask and hood, the others immediately declined as soon as he stepped through the door, some even reaching for their phone in a concealed panic. Not that they could really be blamed for their hesitance. He is pretty intimidating if you didn’t know him.

Your eyes now purposefully wander anywhere around the parlor except Simon. You would not be giving him the pleasure of catching you gawking again.

Your gaze skims over a variety of stencils hung on the walls. You never minded the idea of getting a tattoo yourself, you were just too indecisive to ever settle on one.

But maybe one of Jackson’s will stick out to me, you think as you exam the references pinned to the wall

Maybe a bird?

Or a moon?

Possibly a flower?

Oo, that bunny’s pretty cute.

Maybe a-

Wait

Is that-

You squint your eyes to see it clearer, before they quickly widen again

It is

You can’t help the slight maniacal smirk that overtakes your face

That one’s perfect

-+-

It had been about a week since the tattoo parlor and honestly? You had almost forgotten about the whole thing. Simon had still yet to notice your skins new…..addition. You’d think a military man would be more observant.

Although, in your boyfriends defense, it was so small and in such a hidden place that even you yourself had a hard time seeing it.

You and Ghost were in the kitchen together, him in charge of the noodles while you made the sauce. Normally y’all would just order some take-out, but you both decided to try something new. Neither you or him were five star chefs by any means, only able to follow along to a recipe. A very detailed recipe.

You were leaning over the stove just trying to stir the ingredients though your hair obviously did not get the memo. No matter what you did, tucking it behind your ear, blowing it back with your mouth, it just would not get out of your face.

You pull a strand in front of you, eyes almost crossing from it being so close, and glared at it as if it had personally offended you.

I swear to gosh, one day I’m just gonna freaking shave all of it off-

“Here,” comes a distinctly deep, British voice from behind. When had he gotten over here?,”Let me.”

You feel the strands of hair get pulled gently from your grasp as he gradually gathers it all into one extremely large hand. He gingerly rakes his fingers through your locks, eliminating any knots or lumps. Using the hair band from his wrist, where did he get that from?, he joins all of it into a ponytail.

You’re kinda sad to feel his fingers retreat from your scalp.

You run a hand over your head, examining his work. You’re fairly surprised to feel that there’s only a small hump or two.

“Hm, not bad for a man with sandpaper hands.” You jest with a smile.

You don’t get a response

The sound of breathing coming from behind tells you he hasn’t moved either.

“Simon?” You question, turning to look over your shoulder.

The man in question was standing stock still, you’d think he was a mannequin if not for his chest moving up and down. His gaze zeroed in on your ear.

You instinctively raise a hand to the spot in question, and that’s when it finally dawns on you.

He’s not looking at your ear.

No, he’s looking behind it.

You smile

So your little game of spot the difference was finally over.

“You like it?” You ask smugly

Simon doesn’t know what to say, just eye’s the nape of your neck in bewilderment. This was absolutely not here before. Where your skin was previously unblemished, now contains a tattoo about the size of his thumb.

A skull tattoo.

“When did you get this?” He asks instead, finger coming up to rub over it, almost as if he thinks it’s fake, thinks that the ink will smudge under his thumb.

“‘Bout a week ago.” You admit with a shrug, trying to be nonchalant about it.

His eyes finally shift to your face,”And you didn’t tell me?”

You shoot him an unimpressed look, grabbing his arm that contains the tattoo of your name and pushing it in his face,”Hypocritical much?”

He looks from his arm, to your tattoo, then to your face, as if he was putting together a puzzle.

“Is the tattoo an expression of love or a ploy of revenge?” He asks with suspicion.

You shrug, a smile gracing the corner of your mouth,”Can’t it be both?”

He eyes you for a moment, shaking his head in exasperation, but you could of swore his eyes lit in amusement.

Oh!

You about forgot something!

“Did you notice any details about it, a letter perhaps?” You question coyly.

No he hadn’t

He gently grips your chin to turn it to the side, dipping his head a little to get a closer look.

Oh.

He can see it now.

There’s a few cracks on the side of the skull and , if he looks close enough, he can see that they join to make a letter.

S

“Does tha-does that stand for-“

“Simon? Yeah, yeah it does.”

He stands there, just silently rubbing your tattoo again for a moment. You’re not complaining though, you’re just soaking in his touch. His fingers feel good.

You clear your throat, gently taking a hold of the hand rubbing your neck,”So? You like i-“

You’re cut off by him surging forward, capturing you in a kiss.

Definitely worth the pain of the needle.

-*-

You were both laying in bed after supper, your stomachs full. Full of take-out, not home cooked pasta because you may or may not have gotten distracted and singed the noodles and turned the toast to basically charcoal.

You were in a spooning position, his large arms wrapped around your waist, mask finally taken off in the darkness of your room.

“You know,” He breaks the silence,”I really do appreciate it, the tattoo.”

“Thought it was only fair. You know, with you getting one for me and all.” Your voices are soft, just whispers in the night.

“You know you didn’t have to do it, right? Not just cause I did.” Anyone that didn’t know Simon would judge from his gruff voice that he was bored or uninterested, maybe even irritated. But you did know him, which means you easily pick up on even the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice.

Your brows furrow,”That’s not the only reason I got it.”

When you receive only silence you look over your shoulder at him, “You know that, right?” You ask as if it was obvious. You thought it was.

Once again, you receive only silence. You really wish it wasn’t so dark so you could read his expressions.

You shift your body so that you’re fully facing him.

“Hey,” you reach for the hand around you’re waist and hold it to your chest,”You know I love you right?”

“Yeah?” You don’t like that he sounds so hesitant.

“Simon,” you make sure he knows you’re serious,”I love you. You’re the only person I ever want to love, and I don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, and I sure as heck ain’t planning going anywhere anytime soon. So why wouldn’t I want evidence of you on my body?” You use your other hand to cup his cheek.

The breath he lets out sounds shaky, letting you know your little speech hit him right in the way you wanted it to. You can’t see anything but the outline of his figure, though you swear you can feel his gaze piercing you.

He brings the hand you’re not holding to rub the spot behind your ear where you know his initial lies.

“I love you too,” He confesses on a quivering exhale.

You slowly lean in for a kiss, not quite sure where his lips are in the dark but somehow hitting them almost perfectly the first try, almost as if it was second nature to you now. That’s something you never really felt before Simon. Sure you had locked lips with other guys but you never knew there could be such emotion in just a kiss. With him, it’s almost like your minds, as well as your lips, are closely connected for that moment. You can feel the love, the passion, the joy, all of it with just a touch of mouths.

Ghost is the one to break it first, breath fanning over your face as he speaks,”I just have one question.”

“Hm?” Your mind is still frazzled by that short intense make out session.

“Was it when I went to the bar with Johnny that Friday?”

Your mind slowly catches on to what he’s saying, letting out a small giggle. That’s confirmation enough for him.

“And you said you were just gonna have a lazy night in?” His fake anger makes your giggles worse.

“You went to the stinking parlor instead didn’t you?”

You don’t even know why this has tickled you so badly, but soon Simon’s own deep chuckles join yours.

He pulls you into his chest, “Sneaky girl.”

You two just laugh harder

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Congrats! Can I ask for Jake lockley and “use your words” pls and thanks, I feel like he would be so dirtyyyy

Love You, More

Jake Lockley x f!reader

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: smut, p in v, lots of cum I guess, fluff too, Jake likes to fuck in his car (what's new), sappy Jake, I hope he's not too ooc.

Also, I'm trying out different ways in including Spanish translations. Do you guys prefer translations at the end of the fic or within the fic? Let me know!

Also, also, it's my first time writing Jake. Enjoy &lt;3

MDNI

"Jesus, Jake," you flung his car door open, immediately greeted by his cherry-scented air freshener and spiced cologne, "I called you seven minutes ago! It's rush hour! Did you bulldoze through traffic, you loon?" 

Jake broke into a grin. He was calm and collected as ever, his left arm resting over the steering wheel as if he’d been waiting an eternity for you. He unbuckled his seatbelt as you shuffled into the passenger seat, letting you slam the door shut and toss your things in the back seat before snaking a gloved hand over the nape of your neck and tugging you toward him, giving you a searing kiss.

"No pasa nada," he muttered over your lips, his fingers gently sneaking into the roots of your hair, "fuck traffic. My girl needed me." (It's no problem)

Jake was dramatic, that much had been clear when you first met him. If you asked him for an inch he’d give you a mile. If he could, he'd fight for a way to give you the moon and stars if you asked.

But you hadn’t asked him for the moon and stars. You were a simple woman. You just wanted a ride home from work, too exhausted to take the tube. Either way, you were grateful.

He rested his brow on yours with his eyes closed, letting his knuckles skim your cheekbone down to your jawline.

“Missed you, princesa.” Jake hadn’t seen you in about a week, mostly fronting to drive around overnight (and deal with…Moon Knight-related activities) for some extra cash while simultaneously letting Marc and Steven rest.

“Missed you, too, baby.” You melted into his touch immediately, letting him work his tongue into your mouth. One thing about Jake was that he was a filthy kisser. He was all tongue and teeth and spit, and Goddamn was he good at it. But he took his time with you now, savoring your taste of mint mixed with the sweetness of the orange slices you had with your lunch.

“You didn’t kill anyone on the way here, did you?” You asked between kisses.

“Mm, don’t think so.”

You giggled, giving him a few well-deserved kisses. Your lip gloss left shiny smudges over his lips, cheeks, and the bridge of his nose, but he didn’t mind, growing fond of your little smooches to the point where it became an expectation.

"Thank you for picking me up." 

"Claro, amor." (of course, love.)

"Alright, fast and furious, take me home."

The drive was comfortable. Jake watched his speed this time, taking the local streets just to have you in his car longer. He had the radio playing low, a hand gripping your thigh while the other steered. You weaved your fingers through his before giving his hand a light squeeze. Every once in a while he'd release your hand, trailing his fingers higher up your thigh and settling into the crease between your legs, skimming your warm core, before moving back down to claim your hand in his.

You knew what he was doing. He was teasing you, warming you up for the inevitable. It's been a week after all. You indulged him, spreading your thighs just a little bit wider while watching the city pass by in a blur.

He drove into the private parking lot two blocks away from Steven’s flat, parking into his designated spot and cutting off the engine. The abrupt stop of the radio left you both in silence, Jake looking over at you with a look in his dark eyes that meant he was up to something. You smiled, unbuckling your seatbelt to plant a kiss on his waiting lips before attempting to open the car door.

“Uh, uh.” Jake reprimanded, stopping you. He quickly shuffled out of the car, slammed the door closed, and swiftly walked to your side, opening the door for you. 

“Ahh, what a gentleman.” You teased, grasping the hand he offered you before slamming the car door. Before you could make any other moves, he opened the door to the backseat.

“Get in, mami.” You brows furrowed in confusion.

“What—why?” 

“I won’t be answering questions at this time,” he said, playfully swatting your bum, “be good and listen.” You bit your lip with a nod, shuffling into the back seat and tossing your belongings toward the front of the car.

Jake was on you as soon as he got in, slamming the car door and pressing his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking on your delicate skin.

“Is this a good idea?” You breathed, your fingers sinking into his curls just beneath his hat. “Won’t we get caught?”

“Mmm, windows are tinted for a reason.” He hummed into your neck, his hand messing with the buttons of your dress shirt.

“But people are gonna be parking—”

“Let them park, don’t worry about it. Ven acá.” (come here) You yelped when his hands found your waist, his fingers digging into the meat of your hips as he helped you straddle his lap. “That’s better.” he grinned, tugging your shirt from inside your pants to let the soft leather of his gloves caress your sides.

You looked past him through the back windshield when a car drove into the lot, a panicked look in your eyes as your hands settled on Jake’s shoulders. 

“Mirame,” (look at me) He forced you to look at him with his fingers pressed to your chin, “focus on me.” You looked back at him, blinking owlishly. He brings you down for a kiss, a slow one that makes a noise when you separate. “I want you.” He whispered over your plump lips, licking them gently as he fiddled with the button of your trousers, dipping his hands inside to tug at the waistband of your panties.

You let out a shaky breath, your skin burning from his gentle touches as he pushed your pants down as far as he could, hands slipping under your panties to grab the globes of your ass. He squeezed them, capturing your lips again in a filthy kiss that was all tongue and spit.

You moaned, falling into his trap with little objection. You could feel his cock through his trousers, his large bulge twitching right under your sex. You moved your hips over his, grinding down against his growing erection. He groaned over your lips, his hands shifting to grasp your hips, moving you over him at the pace he wanted.

You could feel yourself getting moist, panties probably wrecked from the continual stimulation. Your fingers reached between your bodies, desperately fighting to loosen Jake’s tie. 

“Esperate, mami, you’re gonna choke me.” (wait) He chuckled breathlessly, slapping your hands away to loosen his tie and removing it, tossing it to the floor. You knocked his hat off, taking his face in your hands and kissing him fervently. He moaned letting you lead him for a moment before he tapped your thigh. “Up, baby, up, want these off you.”

You wasted no time, kicking off your shoes ans standing up as best you could while being cramped up in the back of his car, letting him slide your trousers down, revealing your damp panties. 

“Mm, look at that,” he grinned, shoving your pants down to your ankles, “already wet for me.” 

“Shut up, Lockely.” You muttered with no bite, clumsily kicking off your pants completely before taking a seat on his lap again. Jake groaned at the pressure, bucking up into your warm heat.

He carefully peeled his gloves off, placing them in the cup holder of the door, his fingers immediately tracing down your abdomen and then further down, pushing your panties aside to dip into your moist heat.

“Damn,” he hissed, “you’re fucking soaked.” You moaned when he pulled his fingers out, separating them to watch how your juices clung to his fingers. Your hands flew to his belt, fighting to release him from his shackles. You sucked your teeth in frustration, your fingers fumbling against the leather and metal that clung to his hips.

Jake chuckled, “What is it?” You whined pawing at his crotch. “No, mami, use your words, I wanna hear you.”

“Want your cock,” you breathed, “please, baby?” You fluttered you lashes, though that wasn’t necessary. He was easily convinced. 

Jake assisted you by lifting his hips, watching you yank the offending fabrics—boxers and all—down till they pooled around his ankles. His cock bobbed out, poking through his white dress shirt. 

“You want this cock, baby? Come get it.” He pushed his dress shirt out of the way, gripping his cock firmly in his hand. The swollen tip was bright red and leaking precum down the length. “Sit on it.” 

Your arousal flared at his words, and you wasted no time in pushing the soaked fabric of your panties aside, lining yourself up, and sinking down. You both moaned in unison, your hands flying to his shoulders to stabilize you while he held your hips in his warm hands, his mouth hanging open as he watched you move with lust-filled eyes.

You bounced on his cock, delicately at first, testing the stretch and the thickness of him, your cunt fluttering at the sudden intrusion.

“Estas mojada, mami,” (you're wet) Jake groaned, tossing his head back against the cushioned seat, “fuck your tight, always so tight. Missed this pussy.” He was submerged in your juices as you rocked your hips above him, moaning like you never had before. Maybe it was the location, something about having Jake fuck you in his car while potentially being caught had your dial turned up to a thousand.

“Y-you feel so good,” you mewled, back arching when Jake thrust his hips up, his cock reaching impossibly deep, “you fuck me so good.”

Jake suddenly brought you flushed against him, his arms circling your waist as he thrusts into you every time you slammed down on him. He was sweating, you felt the moisture when he buried his face in your neck, breathing heavily over your skin.

“Need you to come,” he groaned, the sound of your slick pussy the loudest thing in the car, probably in the entire parking lot, “need you to come first.” He snuck a hand down toward where you both were joined, taking his thumb and circling your clit in the way he knew you loved.

“Fuck, Jake,” you squealed, your pussy tightening from the added stimulation, “I think I’m gonna—” You threw your head back as your body convulsed, your cunt gushing over his cock and thighs. You cried, tears leaking from your eyes as he kept thrusting sloppily into you, you’re overstimulated sex squeezing tight as you came. “J-Jake.” You barely got his name out, your body trembling in his arms.

“I know, baby, I know, you did so well for me,” he cooed, his voice strained as he chased his own pleasure, “gonna fill you up so good—” he groaned, rocking his hips a final time as he held you close, filling you to the brim with his cum. He squeezed you tightly in his arms, his fingers digging into your back as he bit your neck, riding his high. You felt his cock twitching inside your wet walls as he kept coming, his spend leaking out of you.

You were both panting against one another, chests heaving as you searched each others mouths, kissing with more tongue than anything else. He cradled your face in his hands as he kissed you stupid, his lashes tickling your skin as he licked, and licked and licked. 

Every shift of your hips had his spend leaking out, running down his balls and onto the seat in a warm stream.

Jake’s heavy eyes blinked up at you, a smile curling on his lips.

“Love you, mami.” He muttered, bringing you in for a tight hug as if it was the last time he’d be seeing you. You made him sappy, at least, that’s what he always told you. He didn’t know he had a sappy bone in his body until you came along.

Now, he made sure to remind you how loved you are. 

You stayed nestled comfortably on his lap, his cock still lodge snuggly in your hole. You held him, your fingers threading in his sweaty dark curls. You closed your eyes, inhaling his scent.

“Love you, more.” You made sure to remind him, too.

[takeariskao3]

Hannah, can you do a mini POV of what it was like for Harry to kiss Ginny after so long on AG?

YES I CAN

"No--"

Harry resisted the urge to bang his head repeatedly into the table top and instead shoved back in his chair.

“See? I’m getting this all wrong.”

He strode across the room. Only for Ginny to retreat a half step at his approach, and for her face to tense into something apprehensive. The gaping wound in his gut, if possible, pounded even more. And it was that feeling, more than general good sense, that directed his words as they tumbled out of him.

“I want to fix it,” he croaked. “I want to get it right. But I see the way you look at me, it’s like you don’t even know me. I see the way you flinch when I touch you, and it’s like I can’t think straight.”

Ginny blinked several times in quick succession, her face contorting into something utterly perplexed.

She gaped at him for several quick breaths before stammering, “That–That’s not–”

Harry braced himself for some false consolation, only for Ginny's sputter to turn cataclysmic.

"It's all right here!" she roared, fisting her fingers into the jumper at her midsection. "I know it is because I can feel it! But I-- I don't know what to do with it."

He didn't need to ask what she felt. Harry knew in an instant what she meant. Because it was a mirror to his own response to her proximity. Like a damn reflex. Too deep-rooted to be impulse, too violent to be survival.

Even though he recognized her plight in an instant, that still didn't make it easy to believe.

How could she possible be articulating this... this connection. She had no context for it. She had nothing. She didn't--she couldn't--remember. It had been stolen away from her. From both of them.

So there was no way she could be feeling anything close to what she should.

Right?

Ginny visibly swallowed. Then, so slowly Harry almost ached with the inevitability of it, she drew closer. Her fingers trembled ever so slightly before her palm came to rest over the center of his chest.

Harry's nerve endings crackled to life at her touch. They'd gone involuntarily dormant with the absence of her no longer pervading his every sense every moment of every day. But now they practically sang with the end of their stagnation.

Ginny stared up at him with wide eyes, the freckles dusting her cheeks taunting him. He'd memorized every single one, peppered them with kisses under the cover of starlight, mapped them with his fingers in the early glow of dawn.

Before he even knew what he was doing, his hand reached for her of its own accord, brushing his knuckles across the constellations in her skin.

Her breath hitched on her inhale, but she didn't pull away.

Harry couldn't believe she didn't pull away.

If anything she was leaning closer--her hand skimming up his shoulder to the back of his neck. With one gentle tug, Ginny tilted his face downwards.

And right before the ghost of her lips touched his, she breathed, “I don't know how to do any of this either."

Harry reared back, if only to let his brain catch up to the rest of reality. He should really, genuinely, honestly, take a step back. Talk this through rationally and pragmatically. Figure out a way forward that wouldn't leave room for some breakdown later...

But as Ginny looked at him with those amber-golden eyes, the last thread of his self-control was shredded to bits. Giving in to every urge of longing inside him, he surged forward and caught Ginny around the middle.

Months of deprivation left him less than gentle, and hardly graceful. He kissed her with abandon, like a dying man gulping down the cure to his ailment. Several moments passed where he could comprehend nothing but the frisson exploding in his bloodstream and the rightness of having Ginny in his arms. Then he settled into the feeling of kissing her and realized she was just as emphatically kissing him back.

Their tongues rolled against each other and, if anything, the stars behind his vision grew even brighter.

Right before it all came crashing down.

[whoreiaki-kakyoin]

18+ beneath the cut: bondage, dom/sub dynamics, inappropriate use of magic, no explicit sex but a healthy dose of elf cock 🤤 Reader is gender neutral with no specified anatomy! Minors, ageless blogs, and a.ntis, this one isn’t for you!

When you tell Aaravos you want to experiment with dom and sub dynamics, his mouth curls in a wicked smirk: the one you’ve grown to love for the jolt of electric, nervous anticipation it sends right through you. Every last nerve ending seems to spark to life when you see that sly, hungry expression and hear that soft, rumbling chuckle that tells you you’ve intrigued the startouch elf. You feel like something caught in a snare, a wide-eyed prey animal trying to quell its racing heart as you meet that predatory gaze.

It scares you. It thrills you. You crave it. So when Aaravos seems so amused, so pleased as you bare your desires to him… you feel like you’ve already made the right decision.

One thing you hadn’t counted on, which you should have from the start, was that asking a powerful mage to be your dom meant he would have far more than simple laymen’s tools to tease you with. Truthfully, you knew that Aaravos couldn’t say no to you if you would ask for something specific, simple toys or cuffs or a flogger… but you hadn’t realized just how much you’d love the power he could exert over you with his magic.

The first time he conjures magical bonds around your wrists, the sound that leaves your lips is shameless: half gasp of surprise, half eager, wanting moan as you discover something you never knew you needed. You’re rewarded with that low, silken chuckle, and your face flushes with heat as you look up at Aaravos. He seems to relish in the display before him as you wriggle against the bed, not resisting so much as taking in the feeling, laying exposed on your back with your arms bound above your head.

“My, my…” your lover croons. “What a delightful picture. Do you enjoy being so vulnerable for me, dearest?” You whimper out a small, breathy sound. He’s gorgeous as always as he peers down at you, silver-white hair spilling over his shoulders as the stars on his skin glimmer faintly.

“Fuck… yes, Aaravos!” You find yourself melting easily into your role, leaning into his touch as he cups your face, skimming his thumb over your cheekbone.

“So eager.” You’d like to say he doesn’t know the half of it, but Aaravos always knows. Even with no magic at all, he can see right through you, knowing the way your heart races and head swims as you find the delicious haze of subspace starting to slip over you.

“Please…”

“Please, what? Hm? My sweet, I can’t know what you want if you don’t tell me with your words.” You whine again softly, wanting to tell him that of course he knows… but you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Touch me, Aaravos. I need you.” You close your eyes as you whisper the next part. “I need to be yours.” A warm hand tilts your chin up, ever so gently.

“Look at me, little star.” You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. “Good,” he whispers, and another chill races down your spine at the praise. “Mm, yes, I know… You enjoy being good for me, don’t you?”

He kisses your forehead softly. Tenderly. Letting his lips linger as you melt for him once again.

“Now, my pet.” You gasp again as some unseeable force binds your ankles, leaving you spread eagle against the sheets. You can’t tear your eyes away from Aaravos’s mischievous grin. “You want to be all mine?” You nod eagerly.

“Yes!”

“You want me to show you…” He trails a hand down your body, the touch agonizingly slow and feather-light. “who you belong to, don’t you?”

“Yes, Aaravos!” He meets your eyes again, smiling, and you can see the ardent devotion and love in his eyes despite his teasing.

“Ah, my little star,” he croons, leaning in to kiss you softly. He chuckles, exhaling out a soft, satisfied noise as he straddles you, one hand languidly stroking his cock as he looks you over. You bite back a groan at the sight of him, thick and flushed—his cock is mapped with stars like the rest of him is, the tip flushed a deeper, inky, night-sky blue as it weeps an almost luminescent precum. You eye its slight curve hungrily, feeling heat grow and pool between your legs. Aaravos simply smiles, that same wolfish smile you love so dearly, and leans in to whisper in your ear.

“You are, and will always be, mine. For all eternity.”

[gingerjunhan]

the night is young - oh seungmin

synopsis: after a night out with friends doesn’t go as planned, seungmin swoops in to save the day

word count: 971 | pronouns used: none, but reader has a “girls night” | genre: slight angst?, fluff, friend to lovers 🫶🏻 | cws: shitty friends, crying, swearing, mentions of eating, lmk if I missed any!

It’s finally Friday, and your long awaited “girls night” has arrived. You and your friends have been planning to go out tonight for about a week and a half, and you were so excited. You took the time to do your hair and put on some makeup, and you had even planned your outfit days in advance; making your friend, Seungmin, help you pick it out. Like always, you were the first of your friends to arrive at the restaurant you agreed to meet at. You pulled out your phone to check the time, and you saw that you got a text from Seungmin.

have fun with your girlfriends tn. let me know if you need anything. stay safe <3

You smiled at his text, sending him back a quick, “Thanks, I will:)” before turning your phone off. It was 7:30- your friends should be arriving soon. You were waiting on a bench outside the restaurant, skimming your eyes through the crowd as you waited for your group to show up. You sent a text to your group chat, letting them know where you were when they got there. You waited a couple of minutes and got no response.

Maybe they’re driving? You thought to yourself. I’ll give them some more time.

It was now almost 8:00. You had gotten no responses to your text, and you didn’t recognize anyone walking the sidewalk in front of you. Your heart started to sink as you finally decided that there was no point in waiting anymore. You pulled out your phone again, deciding to call Seungmin. It rang a few times before he answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey…”

He instantly knew by your tone that something was up. “What’s wrong, (Y/N)?”

“Um,” you were trying to keep yourself together. “Nobody showed up. They all bailed on me, Min.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I’ve been waiting for like, half an hour. I haven’t heard from anybody.” Seungmin was torn between feeling bad for you or being mad at your friends. He knew how much you were looking forward to tonight. “Do you mind if I come up to your dorm?” You asked him. “I’m probably only a block or two away.”

Seungmin knew what restaurant you were at- he made you send him your location in case he needed to pick you up. He thought about how excited you were, and he thought about the outfit he helped you plan.

“No, stay where you are. Let me get dressed and I’ll come meet you there.”

“No, Minnie, it's okay. You don’t have to-“

“Nope, I’ll be there,” He stated. “You don’t deserve to have them pull this type of shit on you. You were too excited and you look too good to have this night go to waste. Give me ten minutes. I’ll see you soon.” With that, he ended the call.

☆

A little less than ten minutes passed, and you finally spotted Seungmin walking your way. He wore a smile on his face as he approached you, and you couldn’t help but to smile back.

“So,” he began. “Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes please! I’m starving.”

“Alright then,” Seungmin offered you his hand to take, and you couldn’t help but to blush. “Let's go.”

You looked at him in confusion. “Are we not eating here?”

“Oh c’mon, (Y/N), the night is young! I have something special planned.” You felt like your heart was doing flips. This can’t be happening. You had had a crush on Seungmin for a while now, but you were never brave enough to say anything. But now, here you were, taking his hand without a second thought- allowing him to take you wherever he had planned.

You ended up a few blocks down the street, finding yourselves stopped in the middle of a walking bridge that divided a small river. Seungmin let go of your hand to lean on the railing, looking up into the night sky.

“I come here on my night time walks a lot,” he told you without looking away from the sky. “You can see so many stars from this bridge.”

You took a spot beside him, mimicking his stance against the railing. As you joined him in looking up, he let out a small gasp.

“I think that star is actually a planet,” he informed you.

“Which one?”

He pointed up into the sky, “That one. Look.”

“Min,” you chuckled. “You pointing to a sky full of stars and saying ‘that one’ doesn’t help me.” Seungmin turned to you, and took one of your hands again, pointing it to the star he was looking at. His other hand found its way around your waist, holding you close to him.

“Do you see it now?” He asked, still pointing with your hand.

“Y-Yeah. I think I see it.”

Seungmin turned to look at you with a soft smile, “Isn’t it beautiful?”

You turned to look back at him, finally meeting his gaze. You hoped it was dark enough that he wouldn’t notice the blush that now crept its way to your ears. You caught yourself looking nervously between his eyes and his lips, and then noticed him confidently doing the same. Seungmin leaned in, starting to close the gap between you.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, just before your lips touched. “It is.”

With that, your lips finally met. All of the negativity from the evening seemed to wash away in that very moment. The hand that Seungmin was pointing with let go of yours, coming to cup your cheek as yours rested on his shoulder. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but you knew it would be something you remembered forever. You both pulled away, smiling like fools.

“Alright,” Seungmin said, slightly stepping away and taking your hand again. “Who’s hungry?”

[kikuism]

mid-year book wrapup!

i've read 24 books so far. i'm reading much slower than i was last year and that's fine with me, i feel like i can actually remember each book i read this year much better.

1) best book i've read so far:

the best books i've read so far are definitely poor things and the library at mount char. for poor things, i totally wasn't expecting to even read very much at all after giving the intro a quick skim....and before i knew it i'd read half the book in one go. it was such a wonderful surprise. i couldn't put it down if i tried. very clever and outrageously funny—biggest surprise of the year for me and i'm very pleased; i'd go so far as to say it's one of my new favorites.

the library at mount char gripped me from start to finish, an andrenaline fueled absurd ride that's tons of fun and which you need to go into blind—reading this deep in the throes of a cold only enhanced the experience. i love a fucked up story!

2) best sequel i've read so far:

i haven't read any sequels so far!

3) new release i haven't read yet but want to:

there are many! here are some—

4) most anticipated release for the second half of the year:

5) biggest disappointment:

ok i am exaggerating a little in regards to the last one but let me explain—

before the coffee gets cold: the biggest disappointment for sure. i wasn't expecting it to be a new fave or anything but i was sure i was going to find this charming and heartbreaking the way so many others did but i just couldn't care for it. i found the execution awkward and clunky which really affected my immersion. it was just so painfully meh.

the secret book of flora lea: didn't go into this with any sort of expectations tbh but considering the subject matter and setting i thought it was going to be at least a little better than it actually was. alas the WW2 englad setting wasn't enough to save this. like it actually makes me mad how stupid and silly the dialogue got toward the end, and don't even talk about the coincidences that wrapped everything up, how convenient *throws refrigerator across the room* at least the descriptions were quite beautiful

the heart's invisible furies: ok now this i admit i went into with some raised expectations bc 1) the goodreads rating, so many people can't be wrong surely? and more importantly 2) this is an epic historical coming of age story set in ireland like hello it was made for me? if anyone was supposed to love this it was me if any book was supposed to be my favorite read of the year it was supposed to be this one but alas. i refuse to repeat the paragraphs i wrote for my goodreads review but my problem was that the balance between comedy and tragedy was handled poorly. any emotional scene was quickly and bizarrely undercut with some poor attempt at humor that made the experience so jarring. and the comedy was so cartoonish that it almost felt satirical but no i was supposed to take all that seriously? and 600 pages of cyril misunderstanding conversations got real tiring after a while it had me gritting and grinding my teeth. this isn't to say there was nothing good about it—i enjoyed the depiction of ireland in the 50s as a complete and complex society filled with all sorts of people just trying to live their lives under the rule of the church. there were one or two moments that made me tear up, and i actually quite enjoyed the first bit with cyril's mother. but ultimately i had way more complaints than praises. this just proves to me that a really good multigenerational story is a feat only few can accomplish (the dutch house ann patchett you will always be famous). sometimes i feel crazy scrolling through all the five star reviews for this book like am i delusional?? did i miss something?? but i stand by my thoughts. and i will say that's a killer title!

6) biggest surprise:

i said it already but poor things! especially since i was adamant on watching the movie blind. but it was available on libby which surprised me a lot bc i expected a huge waiting list at the time, so i borrowed it just for fun and told myself i was just going to read the introduction. it ended up becoming one of my top reads of the year.

and okay fine, the will of the many—i am grudgingly impressed how i couldn't stop reading it, since it's received a stupid amount of hype and it's written by a white man hgkshfhd it was a matter of pride for me

7) favorite new author:

i haven't felt that way about any of the authors i've read so far tbh!

8) newest favorite character:

i don't have one hgkshfj for some reason it's really really really hard for me to have a new favorite Book character. usually what happens is that i like a character and find them engaging (like bella from poor things, or danny and maeve from the dutch house) but to reach Favorite status is a feat that only few books manage. the only series in the last few years that has managed to do that is the locked tomb, what a strong cast of characters wow! it's such a skill to pull off.

9) a book that made me cry:

none of the books i've read so far have made me cry!

10) a book that made me happy:

probably poor things! it's not exactly a feel good cozy book but i had such a a good time with it and i laughed a lot

11) what book(s) do you need to read by the end of the year?

reached the image limit but here are some books i would like to read by the end of the year:

the lion women of tehran

the fifth season

a sorceress comes to call

the night ends with fire

intermezzo

the infernal devices (don't @ me i've been in a situationship with these books since high school....i still haven't read them but everyone says the love triangle in them is off the walls and after watching challengers it made me really want to experience another real love triangle so maybe....maybe this is the year i'll finally pick up clockwork angel)

i tag @schech @matchas @sailermoon @silouvertongues and anyone else who wants to share what they've been reading!

[darkhighness]

Good Omentober Day 2 - Stars

Prompts by @disaster-dog

Crowley is frustrated that the humans don't know the stars as well as he does. Aziraphale remembers an angel he'd come across a long time ago.

“So what’s your fixation on stars anyway?” Aziraphale asked absently.

He watched as his dark-clothed friend was skimming through some of the books in the bookshop. It was hard to get through to him when he was like this but the angel wanted to help if he could.

“They’re simple.” He muttered under his breath, pulling out another book, “They’re so simple but the humans just don’t get it. Did you know they get life advice from constellations?”

Aziraphale hummed slightly. He recalled seeing something similar in a newspaper he perused in the coffee shop.

“I think it’s lovely. They can see signs in anything. I think if it makes them happy then that’s the most important thing.”

“How angelic of you.” Crowley huffed before putting the book away and collapsing onto the sofa, a general disregard as to where his limbs ended up.

“What bought this on anyway? Usually, you don’t worry this much about what the humans are up to?” Aziraphale moved closer to the demon sprawled on his lounge and sat beside him, cradling a warm cup of tea.

“They’re wrong.” He muttered, staring absently toward the back of the bookshop where the angel had come from.

Aziraphale sighed softly and reached over with his free hand to brush his frustrated friend’s hair away from his face. “I’m sure they don’t mean anything by it. And there’s really no way to know what it all means. It’s all a bit in-”

“You’re not going to say ineffable.” Crowley cut him off.

Aziraphale made a motion to indicate he zipped his mouth shut and he delicately placed his cup of tea on his desk. He just pulled Crowley closer and mindlessly toyed with the man’s hair as he huffed and puffed under his grasp.

He only wished he knew what caused this reaction from Crowley. He knew that his friend had always loved the cosmos but usually he would just ignore anything the humans would say. He’d hardly ever seek out books on the matter.

Crowley eased into Aziraphale’s touch and let out a sigh himself. “There’s so many stars they’ll never see. They’re not even fixated on the right ones. I-, I mean, she made so many gorgeous things they’ll never see.”

“Did you know her?” The angel asked softly, “Did you know the starmaker?”

There were many stories in Heaven about an angel who spent all her time spinning the stars. Supposedly she was the best at her craft and at some point, she was God’s favourite. There were even rumours about her being the first choice to be the guardian of the eastern gate. Aziraphale had pushed these stories away a long time ago, brushing it away as little stories angels would tell to help them understand things they didn’t.

It didn’t help that no one seemed to remember the same thing. Aziraphale, for example, had a vague memory of talking to a starmaker a long long time ago but he was always worried his memories were influenced by the story. He remembered a gorgeous angel with the most amazing journal and unforgettable fiery red hair. In some ways, looking at Crowley reminded him of this angel and his passion for the stars didn’t help matters.

Crowley hummed slightly. “Maybe, feels familiar. She was brilliant, wasn’t she?”

Aziraphale absentmindedly braided his friend's hair, still thinking about that angel. “I have heard as such, yes.”

Crowley shut his eyes and began to hum a song softly. Not one Aziraphale had heard before, but it was nice nonetheless. He missed this, just the two of them in the bookshop, enjoying each other’s company, but Crowley’s head was still focused on the stars.

“You know, I heard that Alpha Centauri was one of hers. It’s why I originally suggested it. Hoped you’d want to see what all the hype was for yourself.”

Aziraphale felt a pang in his heart. Part of him felt guilty for all the times he’d rejected all of the demon’s offers to run away. Sure, he knew better now, but he couldn’t help but think of all the heartbreak they could’ve avoided. He stopped fussing with Crowley’s hair for a moment to gently rub his cheek. By this point, Crowley had settled into Aziraphale’s lap and looked quite content to stay there for a while.

“Oh, I’m sorry I let you hurt for so long Crowley.” Aziraphale stammered softly.

Crowley opened his amber eyes to look up at his angel. He shifted a bit to hold Aziraphale in his arms. “You don’t have to keep apologising, angel. Turns out that even after 6000 years there’s still a lot for us to learn together.”

Aziraphale nodded and smiled at his lover, marvelling at the golden eyes that looked back at him. He melted into the other man’s embrace before continuing on his point of hyperfocus.

“Surprised I remember that much, honestly. I don’t really remember many angel stories. I remember you used to tell the human kids them when they couldn’t sleep. Maybe it’s your fault.” He teased.

“Maybe it is.” Aziraphale breathed before the smile returned to his face. “How about we go stargazing tonight, and you can tell me everything you remember.”

Crowley looked absolutely over the moon at the request. The stars were one thing that Crowley could talk about endlessly. On those nights alone after Aziraphale left, the stars were the only company he had. They felt familiar like there was someone looking over him. Maybe it was that starmaker after all.

Later, as they sat under the stars on a clear hill, Crowley was holding Aziraphale close, providing a modicum of warmth on the cool night. “Oh, over there, that’s Orion.”

Aziraphale felt Crowley reach for his hand but he barely noticed, stunned by the beauty laid out in front of him.

“Oh Caphriel, it’s gorgeous.” He stammered breathlessly.

Once he realised his mistake his hand flew to cover his mouth. “I’m so sorry Crowley I don’t know what came over me.”

Crowley’s lips were pressed firmly together, forming a straight line, but he didn’t seem to be mad at Aziraphale. Instead, he brought the angel closer, rubbing his back softly before simply saying, “She did a good job, didn’t she?”

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

For the commentary thing -

He is not running any longer, yet his heart still races as though he is.

She lifts her hand slowly, bringing it close to his face but not allowing it to touch. Green eyes beckon, and he senses that she is waiting for him. Understanding, he mirrors her movement with his opposite hand, and it trembles in anticipation, suspended. . . waiting.

Her hand begins to caress the skin of his temple, gliding along the edge of his face, tracing down his cheek and back again, and he does the same: delighting in this first experience of touch, this first moment of connection. Her fingers glide through his hair, skimming over the sharp peak of his ear and a tremor runs through his body at this new sensation; it floods him with warmth as his eyes close in bliss.

Finally, he feels her hand come to rest gently on his chest, right above his heart, where dwells the secret fire of his being, and she smiles contentedly when he touches her in the same place.

As they stand still together, there by the Waters of Awakening, in the place known in afterdays as Cuiviénen, he can almost hear the song that his fëa sings out in joy for having found her.

He knows then—in the same way he knew the word by which to call the stars—that they have names, given to them by a great creator: that he is Eren, and she, Erenyë.

for this little DVD commentary track thing

tysm for sending this, @mylovelylittleobsessions!!

*SQUEAL* I'm so excited to talk about this bit from Awake, Arise or Be For Ever Fall'n! I am going to absolutely RAMBLE about my babies.

So as soon as I decided that Adar would be one of the elves to awaken at Cuivienen, I was bombarded by these really strong images of his first encounter with Erenyë, his partner and my beloved OC. I can honestly say, I saw this entire scene in my head like a full-color movie before I wrote it, and I think it's one of my favorite moments in the entire story.

If you've read the fic, you know that they were a rare exception to Tolkien's idea that all the male elves awakened before their partners, and that Adar (Eren, at this time in his life) spent his first moments searching for Erenyë, because she couldn't resist going off to explore. I loved how that established their dynamic right off the bat: that she was the bolder of the two of them, and that his instinct would always be to follow her.

When he does find her, she ends up leading him on this playful little chase through the woods, and I knew I wanted it to culminate in a deeply romantic moment, but also encapsulate that sense of them being so new to life.

So i just saw this image of them in a glade (borrowing a little from the Thingol/Melian meetcute, I suppose), and them having that experience of touching one another and connecting physically for the first time. I knew I really wanted it to be both sensual, but also innocent. So the mirroring of touch just felt right for two people who were essentially newborns, and of course I had to throw in a nod to the secret fire, since Adar brought that up in Season 1.

I have to say that those last two sentences are some of my absolute favorites, and to me, feel like some of the most Tolkienian sentences in the fic. I loved being able to give a hat tip to the idea of singing, as kind of an allusion to the music of the ainur that made the world.

And I like the idea that the elves awoke with a certain degree of intrinsic knowledge, like their names.

Which actually brings me to how I came up with Adar's original name in this fic! So Tolkien clearly had a naming convention for the very first elves if you look at the three "fathers" and their wives (Tata and Tatië, Imin and Iminyë and Enel and Enelyë). So I knew I wanted to follow that convention. And believe me when I tell you I had about a full page of potential male/female elf name combos.

I really considered using Oren, since that was allegedly the character's codename on set and it fit the pattern of a four-letter male name. But I just didn't love Orenyë as a female derivative. So I switched one letter and BAM, I had it.

And THEN I recently discovered (and I swear I did not do this on purpose, but what an insane coincidence) that "er" is a primitive Quenya root meaning "one, single, alone."

So considering that Eren and Erenyë were sundered from one another so early, and Adar's life was so solitary, that was just such a TRAGIC little easter egg.

ANYWAY, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LETTING ME GO ON ABOUT THIS FIC AND MY BABIES <3

[kkoct-ik]

kottik i think ive already said it before but i SO so appreciate your perspective and attention to detail with dissociative stuff. trying to wade through scattered info on the internet for reliable resources feels like an impossible task sometimes lol so having the DID writing guide + your alter worksheet definitely helps a lot! 

feedback on the guide itself: i loved it!!! the only parts i didn’t personally find relatable were the parts discussing later stages of healing/recovery (since im not quite there yet) and some of the functional neurological symptoms, but everything else felt like it was describing my own journey and experiences with DID perfectly. i also really appreciated the section on amnesia and different types of dissociation, plus the lesser known symptoms, since a lot of the time i see conflicting and confusing info on that + i feel like a lot of writers who try to write DID and describe how amnesia feels miss out on that stuff and just skim webmd or something for their info. and honestly even in online And offline discussions of DID ive seen other people try to describe how it really works and feels and its… not always described well lmao . but that’s a whole other can of worms etc

i think, though it’s just a writing resource, it was also very affirming to see it all laid out like that. like Oh shit yeah i do all of that. that’s my life on the page!!! the whole time i read it i was like ‘i knew this stuff already, but i never knew how to explain it properly.’ and it’s definitely the kind of thing i wish id been able to see when i first started noticing my symptoms. many years of misinfo and confusion have messed w my perception of myself n my disorder for a long time so it feels like a breath of fresh air to see someone else pushing against that and actually doing their research to try and clear things up. not to mention how clear your descriptions are + how easy it is to comprehend your explanations, while still being concise and to the point. so great work!!! 5 star rating, will definitely be recommending it to others :3 hope to see more from you + hope that it helps others write cool stuff!

i missed this ask!!!! sorry for missing this yesterday

thank you!!!!!! mwa mwa mwa. im so glad. so happy yaaaay

yeah, i definitely relate with the struggling to articulate experiences, being muddled by things online, and feeling like other people really dont quite get it when trying to represent whats going on. it makes me happy i can help with that!!

i feel like i'm in a good place that i've read a Lot of DID & CPTSD lit and i've been stabilising in treatment (processing some stuff, working on myself, getting a better understanding of therapy practice). i think it's given me a lot of perspective on my disorder that i wouldn't really have otherwise, and that a lot of people might not have either.

(rambling...)

cuz yeah. i think trying to understand DID on the internet is a monumentously difficult task. on one hand, you have personal accounts from people with DID, and on the other, you have doctors and generic websites. both don't quite give a full or reliable picture.

if you try to understand DID by listening to individuals, you're vulnerable to being incredibly confused and misled. and most of the time it's not intentional - it's hard to communicate what your symptoms are when you think half of it is normal and the other half is conflicted and fragmented - but it can give others very strange ideas about what the condition operates like at large.

it might also seem respectful to take everything we say at face value, but that ends up meaning that our flawed / misguided perceptions of ourselves and our symptoms become solidified as fact. we are mentally ill, we are not necessarily educated, and are a patient base prone to daydreaming and suggestion. we can get things wrong, and we can emphasise the wrong things.

when people take our unreliable accounts as fact (vivid recounts of psuedomemories, venting about feeling like seperate people, or expressing any number of mistaken symptoms), our experiences can start to sound like fantasy. suddenly DID sounds like a disorder you could not fathom having or ever truly understand, rather than a disorder that is simply inherently confusing to live with.

that said, if you try to avoid that by learning about DID soley through medical accounts and websites, you will only ever hear about reported symptoms, the most extreme & notable case studies, patient observations, and generic criteria, leaving a Lot to fill in the gaps (when you try to deduce what it feels like to live with it / be in our brains), that leads to other kinds of inaccuracies.

(for my health i'm not even going to try to touch on hollywood and online influencers that sensationalise the condition for clicks and thus dominate the algorithm. but obviously they are a factor too. pop culture is a powerful thing.)

the internet is a mess! and while not everything that is misleading is untrue, it can be very easy to just, not quite get it, or misunderstand things fundamentally, in any number of ways.

so yeah, it makes me happy that between my life experience, therapy, and obnoxious amount of pages read, i can actually make what goes on somewhat digestible. i want to help contextualise medical criteria, pull out relevant snippets, and point people to some really good resources.

it's not to say i'm a spokesperson or expert. i am very much just a huge nerd who happens to suffer from a disorder and is very invested in understanding myself. but the positive feedback does reassure me that i haven't gotten anything heinously wrong.

ty again :)) yaayy

[letitrainathousandflames]

Death Scars Pt 1 [Waxer]

inspired by this request for Waxer alive with the scars of what killed him in canon

Rating: T

Word count: 2.5 K

Summary: After waking up from the medical care that had saved his life, Waxer meets Kix and they both discuss the tragedy of Umbara

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, umbara arc, survivor's guilt, pong krell mentioned, canon-typical death in flashbacks, ask to tag

“It’s gonna scar.”

“Which one?”

Waxer stared at the uneven circular burns on his stomach, the scabs within their core fresh and deep red rimmed by a sickening orangish-yellow shade that would lighten to a shade a couple hues lighter than his own skin closer to the very edge of the wounds. Jagged lines of protruding scar tissue crossed horizontally by narrow stitches stretched from the burns, some shorter enough not to need the stitches but just as stark as the larger ones.

He then ghosted a finger over the linear path embedded in his lower right stomach, feeling the rows of stitches keeping the incision shut. It didn’t look nearly as bad as the blaster bolts, but it was drawn in the same blemished tone as them, becoming darker close to the very center of the sunken line.

Kix blew out a sigh, looking up at him. The medic looked like shit, and if you told him that he would most likely take it as a compliment, his vanity gone after the first forty-eight hours of this damned mission and forgotten for good at this point. His eyes were red-rimmed and weary, the bags under them paired with the unshaven facial hair of the past days darkening his features making him look much older than his ten years – a nat-born’s twenty.

“All of them.” Kix said wearily with a shrug. “We ran out of bacta in the field as soon as I was done fixing you up enough for an op, so by the time we got access to these bacta tanks, the wounds had been open for too long. At least is healed enough that we don’t have to worry about avoiding infection. You should still keep it clean and avoid any friction on the area – trust me when I say you do not want to end up ripping these scabs off by accident.”

Waxer nodded, fingers still skimming the partially healed wounds. When Rex had spoken to him in the battlefield, he thought he was a goner. The pain of being shot at near point-blank range had been so intense his own blaster had fallen off his grip.

He had thought of little Numa, the kid he’d grown so attached to and would most likely never see again. He thought of his plans for after the war – because the only way to keep pushing through the nightmare of their lives was to keep your head up and believe in an after, believe in a future that would make it all worth it. He thought of Boil, and realized that if he had to die, he’d rather die not knowing whether he, too – his brother, his best friend – had perished in there with so many others, another victim of their own fellow clone’s blaster fire.

Even now, he didn’t dare ask. He couldn’t find in himself the strength to ask Kix whether his second-in-command had survived the massacre.

Kix patted him lightly on the knee, bringing him back to the present. To the bright white walls and the smell of disinfectant and cleanliness that would always end up reminding any clone of Kamino.

“This is the Umbaran base’s medical facility.” Kix supplied him, the medic’s eyes darting around the place before settling back on his while Waxer’s feet dangled awkwardly from where he sat at the edge of his gourney. “The equipment here is good. I was lucky to be able to continue your care here. Stars know the first aid out there in the dirt is as far from what I call ‘ideal conditions’ as possible.”

Waxer huffed a sound through his nose that he hoped would sound like a laugh. He knew the routine too well – a medic making light of a situation that most likely had been horrifying and burdensome to him in order to make his patient feel better about the whole ordeal. Hopefully to make himself feel better, too.

Which reminds him…

“Did you… did you save me?”

Kix’s eyes shift away from him, his feet shuffling a half-step back from Waxer’s personal space, the medic reaching for a datapad resting on a small table by his bedside.

“Your unity’s medics were busy patching up the other men.”

“Shouldn’t you be patching up your own?”

Kix shrugged, seemingly too interested in the charts on his datapad’s screen, wetting his lips and setting his jaw. His entire frame had shifted from a relatively relaxed posture to a tense, almost awkward one.

“You know how basic medic protocol goes. The ones screaming have enough strength in them to scream, they can wait. The quiet ones – the unresponsive ones, those are the ones in need of urgent care.”

“Or abandonment.”

The word sat heavily between the two of them, and Kix continued to stubbornly pretend to read a chart that didn’t have more than a dozen words in it. Waxer was having none of it, pressing on:

“I had at least two fatal wounds the moment I dropped, from what I could gather in that mess. I heard about you, Kix. You’re a kriffing good medic from the five-oh-first, which is led by one of the most reckless generals in the army – General Kenobi’s words, not mine. You are experienced enough to know when a man is worth saving and when he’s nothing but a waste of stim and bacta that will bleed out to death before you can do anything to save him. And you must’ve known, from your first glance at the holes in my armor, that I wasn’t gonna make it.”

Kix traces the words on his datapad’s screen with a fingernail as if he’s a cadet still learning to read basic. Waxer watches the lump in his throat bob up and down as the other man swallows thickly.

“Like you said, I’m a kriffing good medic. I knew I could fix you.”

Waxer took a moment to draw in a deep breath and keep his temper in check. He’d started having less and less patience for people trying to banthashit him the more he’d hung around with Boil.

“Fine.” He snapped, stepping down from the gurney and taking a moment to assess his balance; He was still a tad woozy from the bacta, and he blinked a couple of times to clear his head “Can you give me a sitrep? I need to get back to my troops.”

That got Kix to look up from the datapad and finally look at him in the eye.

“You are in no shape for combat, lieutenant.”

“That’s up for me to judge. Where’s my gear?”

Kix grabbed Waxer by his elbow, stopping him in his tracks.

“We’ve taken over the capital city! Everything is under control! Our biggest problem now is patching up the wounded and keeping shinies from shooting themselves after having this shitshow as their first incursion! Our- The general they sent to lead us in Skywalker’s stead is in a kriffing containment cell because he is a traitor!”

Waxer turned to face Kix, watching the medic’s shoulders rise and fall with his breathing, his jaw tensed and his teeth bared as he continued:

“He is the one who sent your men the intel that the Umbarans were wearing our armor, and he told us that your men were Umbarans wearing their armor! He wanted us to kill each other, he was kriffing laughing about it when we confronted him-”

Waxer’s eyes widened in horror as he remembered that last glimpse he had before being shot – a man he’d just killed, wearing 501st blue, their helmet being partially knocked off his head as he fell, exposing brown skin and an all-too-familiar jawline.

In the chaos, one of his men had nearly tripped over the corpse, shoving the helmet further away and revealing a clone’s face underneath it, painfully young, open-eyed and dead. Killed by a brother’s hand. By Waxer's.

The moment his gaze locked with the clone’s glassy stare, two blaster shots burned through his armor, sending a vivid spark of molten heat to his lower stomach. His legs had crumpled underneath it, and he thought he’d heard a clone’s voice screaming somewhere in the distance.

They’re clones! We’re all clones! Hold your fire! They’re clones!

The armored man closest to him had lowered his smoking blaster, nearly tripping in his haste to kneel by his side. His helmet clattered to the muddy ground before his hands quickly shot down to pry Waxer’s own helmet off, the cold atmosphere of the Umbaran permanent night meeting his sweat-dampened face as he looked up to the clone medic of the 501st, Kix.

Kix had reached for his medpack, retrieving a stim from it and unceremoniously stabbing it into Waxer’s neck as he yelled out his Captain’s name.

“Rex! Rex, lieutenant Waxer is still alive!”

Waxer’s eyes had stung with tears as he kept hearing clone voices all around him, some screaming, others crying. He had ordered his men to gun down every creature dressed in 501st blue clone armor, as an act of revenge for their brothers... and it had been his very brothers that they had shot instead.

And now Waxer knew how that had come to happen.

Waxer looked at Kix in utter bewilderment, eyes wide and mouth dropping open as he tried and failed to understand it. A traitor general. A clone-killing jedi. How could this be?

Kix stared back at him, something deeply wounded in his gaze. Waxer shook his head, running a hand over his shaven scalp, a scalding fury climbing its way from his chest and up his throat.

“Where is he? We have to kill that kriffing-”

“He’s in a containment cell.” Kix held his hands up placatingly “One of our youngest troopers – Tup, he managed to lure him into a trap, and we stunned him. Rex is on his way to interrogate him now.”

Waxer nodded slowly, and Kix went over to a desk close to the gurney Waxer had been resting on, returning with a bundle of black cloth in his hand, offering it to the lieutenant. Waxer took his blacks wordlessly, shoving his head and arms in it and carefully pulling it over his scarred torso. His eyes must’ve been blazing with the same rage that scorched his insides, and he noticed the way Kix lowered his gaze at it.

His demeanor softened some, as did his voice as he spoke reassuringly to the medic:

“It’s not you I’m mad at, Kix.”

Kix scoffed, flashing his tongue over his lips, brows knitting together.

“You should be. I was the one who shot you.”

Waxer shut his eyes for a small moment, bringing his hand to his stomach. Even the slightest friction from the synthweave fabric as he breathed was making him wince.

“I know. I saw it. And I saw your face, after, when you- Yeah.”

Kix gritted his teeth, looking back at him. His eyes had a sheen of moisture, and Kix kept stubbornly blinking at it.

“I was so fucking proud. When I saw your armor, with that- that little green twi’lek kid painted on it, I thought, ‘this bastard killed 212th’s Waxer. Probably left his body for one of those kriffin’ reavers to gnaw at like the men we lost before’. And I wanted to make it hurt. I wanted that Umbaran incapacitated, but I wanted him to die slowly, so I aimed-”

Waxer let him speak. He knew the medic needed it, and he, too, needed to hear it. Needed to know the other man’s pain. Kix’s following words came in a frighteningly cold tone:

“Two blasts to the stomach, where the armor plates are thinner for mobility. At the right height, to make sure at least one major organ was permanently unsalvageable, and to hopefully cut clean through their spine on the blast’s way out. I took aim, I fired. But he- you-”

“I moved.” Waxer supplied quietly, and Kix nodded a couple of times

“Yeah. So the aim- it got compromised, and I hit your spleen and kidney instead. The second bolt grazed your intestines too, and… And when Rex screamed that you were clones, all that adrenaline, all that excitement, that victorious feeling, I just-” a sharp pant hissed through Kix’s teeth “I’ve seen so much shit, Waxer, had so many brothers die under my hands and I just push through because this is the job, this is how it goes, and I’m used to seeing them die but…”

“But never from your own blasts.”

Waxer finished it for him, and Kix let out a pained gasp, the tears finally spilling down the rim of his lashes before he screamed out, throwing the datapad across the room like a trooper would do a grenade. The thing banged loudly against the wall, letting a dented chip in the stark material, clattering to the floor with its cracked screen blinking some, its images glitching.

“I- we did everything right!” Kix gritted out, more tears running down his cheeks “We were outnumbered, their tech’s better, they have kriffing bioweapons, but we pushed through and we did the job, and that- that demagolka was toying with us all along!”

Waxer walked up to Kix, one hand grabbing at his nape, the other yanking him by the arm until he had the medic held tightly in a hug. Kix’s entire body was stiff with tension and trembling with rage, and Waxer held him in a durasteel grip.

“I’m sorry.” He uttered quietly.

“He… he made us shoot you!” Kix’s screaming subsided to breathless sobbing, the words being punched out of him with each shallow breath “He sent us in small squads to die, a-and then he sent us off to shoot you! Our own brothers, our-”

“I know.” Waxer rubbed his thumb at the back of Kix’s head where he held him by the nape “I know now. And I’m so kriffing sorry, vod.”

Kix’s entire body was shaking with the strength of his sobs, his cheek wet against Waxer’s own.

“I sh- I shot so many of ‘em, Waxer. So many before I got to you, and they are dead now and I… I…”

“Wasn’t your fault.” Waxer said firmly, shaking Kix some for good measure “None of yours. It wasn’t. You hear me? It wasn’t your fault, vod.”

Waxer could no longer understand Kix’s words at that point, mumbled apologies and pleas for forgiveness, for none of it to have ever happened, for this nightmare to end already. Once Kix’s frantic panting had slowed down some, Waxer pulled back enough to press his forehead to Kix in a keldabe.

“You did all you could. And you saved my life. I will forever be grateful for it, Kix.” He pulled back, letting go of Kix and forcing his own face into a smile as much as he could manage “Now, let me go round up my medics so that they can cover for your while you take a breather, okay?”

Kix shook his head, wiping at his eyes and swallowing down thickly, clearing his throat.

“No, I have to get back to work. Need to do some checkups on the survivors, have to see if there was progress with the-”

Waxer placed a hand on Kix’s shoulder, shaking his head.

“Five minutes. Take at least five minutes, and then you get back to it. I got this.”

After a long moment, Kix nodded.

“Five. Not one minute more.”

“Medics.” Waxer grinned, walking towards the medbay’s door. “You’re all the same, aren’t you?”

“That’s four and fifty-three seconds now.”

They both laughed, because they had to pretend they still could. And they both took a breath and told themselves they could still get back on their feet after this, because they had to pretend they could.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Young American - Part 1^

Y/N get's offered the opportunity of a lifetime, an apprenticeship at English Graffiti, world renowned tattoo artist, Eddie Chan's first American shop. However, an unnerving rivalry brews between her and one of Eddie's old apprentices and best artists, Harry Styles.

WC: 10k+

Fic Casting

Y/N had been waiting ages for an opportunity to get a tattooing gun in her hand and become a tattoo apprentice. Since she was a young teen she knew she wanted to tattoo. This interest and passion had been born from her aunt Julie who was heavily tattooed. And while she was considered the black sheep in her family, she had always been special to Y/N and her favorite aunt. She always told Y/N that one day she wanted to be tattooed by her and hopefully soon that dream would be coming true.

Y/N had gone to a tattoo convention to sell some of her prints and designs to artists or shops and also with the hope to get her foot in the door of the industry as an apprentice. It was hard to network while needing to just be stationed at her table for the three days of the convention, so she hadn't really had much luck yet. It was nearing the end of the final day of the convention and she was just doodling on a notebook when someone approached her table and asked about her art and when she glanced up to see her visitor she almost had a heart attack when she recognized the man before her. That was Eddie Chan, a very prominent tattoo artist, one she actually followed on social media for many years. She swallowed down the starstruck feeling that was practically paralyzing her and chatted with him and answered all of his questions. 

Eddie was so kind and on top of that, he really liked her art and even asked to see her portfolio. Y/N pulled it out of her tote bag and handed it over, allowing him to skim through the pages. If his facial expression were anything to go by in that moment, it seemed to be that he liked her work. He then asked her where she was working and she explained that she was currently working part-time as a design consultant for an interior design firm. And then he asked the fateful question, "So are you interested in tattooing?" And she could've sworn her eyes teared up as she nodded in confirmation.

He then explained that he was actually at the convention scouting talent because he was opening up a shop in L.A. with an all-star team. He shared with her that he wanted to have an apprentice there because there would be plenty of great and established artists to learn from. Eddie was Chinese-British and he lived in and had his shop in London, so hearing that he was expanding to L.A. was almost fateful. He got her contact information and promised he would call her soon. And a few days later he did and asked her if she wanted to visit the location of the new shop and to bring her portfolio, which of course she agreed to. The shop was beautiful and nearly finished. She even got to meet another artist he had hired, Aurelia Vega, a legend all on her own. They all started talking about her apprenticeship and what that would look like if she accepted. Y/N learned then that the shop would officially be opening in a month, which gave her plenty of time to ease out of her current job and get to be the shop apprentice full-time. And after a few hours she was heading out of the shop with Eddie at her side.

"Thank you for this opportunity, Eddie." She gushed and he smiled.

"Look, I wouldn't be standing where I am if someone hadn't given me an opportunity. You're an incredible artist and I'm sure you'll fit in well with the team we're going to have here." He assured her.

…. THREE MONTHS LATER …

Y/N had been at English Graffiti for two months now and was doing incredibly well in her apprenticeship at the the shop. She had been shadowing, drawing, and being taught so many techniques and strategies from Eddie himself which was a dream scenario all on it’s own. He continued to be so kind, encouraging, and patient with her, though he assured her that it was no biggie because she was a natural. And the truth was finally having that tattooing gun in her hand did feel so natural. She felt alive as she got a shot at pursing her passion. And not only was being involved in any way great, but the team Eddie had assembled was really great. 

There were three full-time artists, Gerardo, Vy, and the guy coming from London, Harry. Aurelia, who went by Auree, also tattooed but would assume the role of shop manager once Harry got in. She was close to Eddie's age and she had hurt her arm in a car accident and couldn't tattoo as long or as frequently as she used to, so the managing aspect of things was right up her alley. They also had an assistant manager/receptionist who was in charge of bookings, deposits, and all of the front of the house stuff, her name was Rosa. Meanwhile Harry arrived, Eddie was helping run everything, essentially doing Auree's job and training Y/N. The new guy, Harry, was relocating from the U.K. and would be joining them the next week. Apparently he'd apprenticed under Eddie as well and was his top artist at his U.K. shop. Y/N was excited to work with and learn from this guy. When she checked out his page she was more than impressed, it seemed there was nothing he couldn't do. He definitely had talent and a myriad of skills and styles down, so she was eager to work with him and learn from him as much as possible.

Eddie had been working intensely and closely with Y/N, taking advantage of the fact that he was around to train her properly. The others had also offered support and some suggestions along the way, but Eddie was doing the most work with her before he headed back to London to manage his main shop. Before he left he wanted to see her work on real clients if possible; she had tattooed many oranges, grapefruits, and silicone mats, she'd even given herself a little tattoo, but she had never tattooed anyone else and regardless of her enthusiasm, she was a bit nervous to get into this next stage.

***********

The week of Eddie's departure Y/N scrambled around to find people who were willing to let her practice on them and in exchange they'd get a free tattoo and thankfully, she was able to find two people who were interested in small to medium sized pieces that she had designed. Needless to say, Eddie was impressed with her affinity for working with the clients. He noticed it right off the bat with the first one; she was gentle but easygoing and was great at making people feel comfortable. Her second and final client had the more complicated design, despite it being the black and gray piece, but she was feeling pretty good about it. And when Eddie came to check out her work he was ecstatic with it.

"That's fucking good." He hummed as he inspected the finished tattoo inked into the client's thigh, also a tricky place to tattoo, "Auree, come look at this." He called out. She came over and inspected the work closely as well.

"Damn. You're a natural, girl!" She said with a grin and Y/N was over the moon.

"Don't forget to take a picture and add it to your portfolio." Eddie reminded, "Mate, do you mind if I snap a pic for our Apprentice highlight on instagram?" He asked the client who of course said he didn't mind. "Good work, Y/N." Eddie said with a big smile after snapping the picture and heading off to let her wrap up the appointment.

Both clients were really happy with the tattoos they got and left her a good tip, which she got to keep for herself. At the end of the day she stayed behind a bit later, as was customary, to tidy up and to take inventory as it was the end of the month. She thought she was alone, but then Aurelia came into their inventory closet.

"Almost done?" She asked.

"Yeah, just about." Y/N responded as she ticked off a few boxes and jotted down on the page that they needed to get paper-towels before the week was out.

"You did really well today." Auree said again and Y/N bit her lip in excitement.

"Really?" She asked and Auree nodded.

"Yeah, especially for today being your first time with clients. It couldn't have gone better." She assured and Y/N chuckled.

"Thank you, Auree. That means so much.”

"Of course, hon! But I will tell you, you tattoo so similarly to Harry, the new artist coming tomorrow?" Y/N nodded as she recalled, "I think that he'd be a good person to shadow and stick to for the remainder of your apprenticeship, both Eddie and I agreed. He apprenticed under Eddie too." She shared.

"Yeah, so I heard!” Y/N hummed.

"Yes, he's very versatile, but he's literally the king of the black and gray in London. He's got an eye for making things pop and come alive even in the muted tones. He's just such a cool and talented guy. You're gonna love him." She said with excitement.

"Oh my god, I can't wait!"

“Yeah, so I would suggest you study up on his work a bit more tonight just so that you can be a bit more familiar with it and we’ll properly introduce you two at some point tomorrow.” She suggested and Y/N nodded, “Well, I'm going to head out, but I'll see you tomorrow!" Auree said and Y/N thanked her before hearing the back door close and lock.

Now she was really excited for this guys to come aboard and learn even more from him. When she got home she spent hours looking through his page and hashtags with his name on them on instagram. She watched YouTube videos and was very excited to meet this famous Harry Styles. He seemed cool and he was so talented, she was impressed by him and couldn't wait to work with him and see him in action. He was definitely someone who she now looked up to.

The following morning Y/N showed up at 8:00am, her usual time, and she was surprised to discover that someone was already in the shop. She could hear some things being moved around as she set her things down in the employee’s lounge. She was thinking that it was probably Eddie, packing up some of his things. She walked into the studio area quietly and was met with a tall, thin man. He had a bright pink beanie on his head and a baggy t-shirt with some loose-fitting jeans and dirty Vans. There were a few plastic boxes and totes on the tattooing chair and counter at his station. She cleared her throat and he turned quickly.

"Good morning, I'm Y/N, the apprentice." She said with a smile. It widened when she saw it was him, Harry Styles! She was about to speak up again, telling him how excited she was to finally meet him when he beat her to it.

"I'm Harry the new artist." He said in a sort of flat tone, "Is there a reason my station wasn't prepped last night?" He asked her and she wanted to frown but kept her composure.

"Ummm, I prep the stations in the morning, not the night before." She explained herself.

"Well, it's morning and the stations still aren't prepped or sterilized I'm assuming, so..." he trailed off and she immediately felt irritated with him. She wanted to tell him that she had sterilized the stations the night before and that she had arrived two and a half hours early precisely to prep all the stations and the shop before opening, but she bit her tongue and took a deep breath before responding.

"I'll get on it right away." She assured and hurried over to the disinfectant cart and grabbed some wipes and the disinfectant spray and got to wiping down and then spraying all of the surfaces - even if she had done it the night before, "Do you want me to clean your station?" She asked him as she came up to his station. She wanted to check with him in case he didn't want her touching his things or maybe he had already done it and was just giving her a hard time.

"Of course, just move the boxes." He instructed before walking off and then she heard the backdoor shut. She scoffed and moved his stuff to the ground, wiped and sprayed the counter and his chair before going back to the cart and grabbing a clean rag and wiping down the first station and so forth. She was on the station before his when he came back in and sighed. "Why did you just put my things on the ground?" He asked her, an irritated tone saturating his expression and voice.

"Ummm, you asked me to wipe down your station." She said.

"Yeah, but not to put my stuff on the ground." He huffed in annoyance and placed the things back on the counter and sighed yet again, "Why's it wet?" He asked her with a furrow in his brow.

"Because I haven't wiped it yet?" She spoke to him like it was obvious now, not really caring to hide her irritation towards him this time.

"I was gone for five minutes and you weren't able to wipe down a counter? Jesus..." he mumbled and she hated the way she felt her throat knotting up and her eyes starting to get glossy. 

Y/N was so disappointed with how he was acting towards her when he didn't even know her. Her illusions of them getting along great and him becoming her mentor were gone. More than that, she felt her disappointment morphing into anger because really, from the moment she said hello to him he was already being a dick and she didn't do anything to make him upset.

“Well, you’ve clearly never bothered to read the back of the disinfectant bottles. It needs to sit for a few minutes to do its job properly. If you want to half ass the cleaning of your station you can do it yourself." She snapped and dropped the rag onto his counter and hurried out. 

Harry was flabbergasted. The last thing he heard was the heavy back door slam before it was silent all around. Harry felt his insides boiling with anger, who the fuck did this chick think she was talking to him like that? He wanted to follow her and ask her what her problem was, but he decided to just wipe down her mess and finish unpacking his things. 

Y/N had stepped outside to take a few deep breaths and fan at her eyes to avoid the tears she felt coming on and once she was calm enough again she decided that she needed to apologize to him. If he said something to Eddie or Aurelia they would surely let her go. With this new panic now festering inside of her she hurried inside and into the studio and Harry spared her a menacing glance before continuing with unpacking his boxes.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you. It was unprofessional." She said and he stayed quiet, "I've been here a few months now and I can assure you that I always do my job and I do it well. It may take some time for me to learn how you like things, but I'm willing to learn. Like I said, Ive been here for a few months and everyone else is really pleased with how I do things, so-" she was interrupted by his scoff.

"You've been here a few months, have you? You’ve just got loads of experience." He said sarcastically, not even bothering to spare her a look, “Look. Just finish prepping and stay out of my way and I won't mention your little strop to Eddie." He said and she bit her lip nervously.

"O-OK, thank you." She stammered and he didn't answer her so she just got to work again.

Y/N got through her tasks around 9am and then went to practice on silicone from the briefs and concepts Eddie would give her as homework. It was interesting that he never gave her designs to copy, just ideas. But he told her it was supposed to help her convey non-physical things through the art, help her find her style for these things, and collaborate better with clients, and it was true. Harry didn't say anything to her again while they were alone. When everyone else started filtering in closer to10am he started to look more cheerful and was greeting everyone as if the very sun shone out of his ass. It was incredible. Right at 10am Eddie came in with a box of donuts and a bright smile adorning his face.

"Morning team!" He greeted excitedly and everyone called out their greeting to him as they continued chatting and catching up, "Brought some donuts, I'll put 'em in the lounge." He announced and people started flocking over. 

In just a few minutes the smell of coffee was permeating the air in the lounge and Y/N was waiting in the line for the donuts. She grabbed a plain glazed one and quickly scurried off to the side where one of the other artists, Gerardo, stood. He was friendly with her, so sweet and welcoming from the moment she arrived. He was a newer artist to the field and understood the pressure and anxiety of getting on the same level as these veteran and experienced artists. He was always willing to help or give her tips and listen to her when she had a particularly rough time with something, so she definitely leaned towards him a bit more.

"Hey, G." She smiled and he returned the friendly gesture, bearing his teeth in a bright smile.

"Hey, Y/N! How's your morning going so far?" He asked her as she leaned on the wall beside him. She skipped out on the part of Harry being a total ass to her and just said it was good so far. She was about to ask him how his morning had been going when Eddie called for everyone's attention.

"Yo!" He exclaimed and everyone glanced over to him, "First order of business, I want to formally introduce you guys to Harry, he's the newest addition to the team. We've worked together for nearly ten years?" He asked looking to Harry who nodded with a smile, "Fuck, I'm getting old..." he mumbled and everyone chuckled, "I know Auree has met him before, but to the rest of you he's a new face. But he's a really incredible artist! H can handle anything you put in front of him, I fucking swear it. He's also an ace lad and I'm really excited that he agreed to relocate for this gig. Thanks mate." He said to Harry once again as everyone clapped a bit as Harry mumbled something to Eddie lowly as they hugged briefly.

"Second order of business,” Eddie continued, "as many of you know, Y/N is our apprentice at the shop and she's being doing a bang up job around here for the last several months. I think we’ve all seen how anything you give her she will get it done efficiently and exceptionally.” He said and everyone gave her little whoops of encouragement as she shook her head a bit bashfully, “Y/N, you’ve been a lot of help around here as we get the shop settled and I think I can speak for all of us when I say we're thankful for your help and hard work." He said and everyone gave her a little cheer again as she smiled timidly, "I think you all know by now that Y/N did her first tattoos on clients yesterday…” Eddie reminded and once again, her coworkers cheered her on, “And well, she fucking smashed it. Did really exceptional work! Probably some of the best work I've ever seen from a first time artist!" He said and Gerardo elbowed her playfully as she shook her head as everyone whooped and as she looked around she caught Harry's gaze on hers, he didn't seem amused at all, "She did so fucking good that I received emails from both of her clients outlining what a great experience they had and how excited they were to hopefully get tattooed by her again.” Eddie shared.

"Oh my god, really?" She asked and Eddie nodded with a big smile.

"You did really well, Y/N. And after reading their stellar feedback I've decided that you can assist with walk-ins." Her mouth dropped open in shock.

"No way!" She exclaimed and he chuckled.

"You earned it! We can work out the details in a bit, but you've proved yourself." He said. And everyone clapped for her once more, praising her great work.

"Thank you." She responded meekly and then she bit her lip to suppress the huge smile threatening to split wide across her face.

"Those were the two biggest things I wanted to leave you all with. I will be leaving for London tonight, so tomorrow this is Auree's ship to run." Eddie finished and they all cheered again, encouraging Auree this time, “Honestly, I don't think I've ever felt more confident or at peace leaving something. I trust each and every one of you with this shop. You guys are going to kick ass." He said with confidence.

After a few more excited cheers and hollers everyone headed off to their stations and Y/N was following Eddie back to the office where he worked out the details of how her walk-ins would work. Apparently the walk-ins would be split 70/30 between her and Harry as he had no clientele in the area yet. Harry had first dibs because he was already an established artist, but once he had built up his customer base they would mostly fall on her shoulders. Eddie did outline that if clients specifically asked for her then that walk-in would go to her, but for the most part they should be fielded to Harry. She could understand that, he had moved transatlantically for this job and needed the money and also his tattoos would bring in money. She couldn't charge until her apprenticeship was finished, so anything she'd be doing would be "on the house" and if she got tipped enough she could put some of that towards the materials she used, but not every client tipped enough for that. Either way, this was a win for her and she couldn't wait to tell her aunt and her friends.

…. ONE MONTH LATER ….

Working with Harry proved to be a pain. She initially chalked up his bad attitude to jet lag. But after a few days he was still being a jerk to her, so maybe he was really upset by her snapping at him or was hazing her a bit? So she apologized once again and tried to start fresh with him but he simply brushed her off and his bad attitude towards her persisted. After a couple weeks she just decided to keep her head down and compartmentalize the hurt and frustration. It was a huge bummer that he had some vendetta against her that she didn’t understand, but she was determined to make the most out of this new opportunity she was given, as he was determined to be a dick to her.

So even with Harry practically cursing her existence, Y/N was over the moon being able to work with clients. In her first week on walk-ins she had been able to tattoo four people. And during her second week three, and now, on this third week of her new role it was barely Wednesday and she was already on her fourth tattoo of the week! But this time it was different because the walk-ins coming in so far had been asking for her. Yes, Harry was an incredibly talented artist, but so was she and hers were free? It was kind of a no-brainer. She even had to give a few over to Harry and upon seeing his work the clients didn't always mind paying up. But for some reason, to Harry this had sparked a sort of competitive streak in him and he was upset that she was getting so much attention and clientele as an apprentice. This confused Y/N because out of of everyone, he should've understood because when Eddie took him on as an apprentice he was just 17 years old and shortly after he turned 18 Eddie got him started actually tattooing on clients and the same thing happened to him! Moreover, whether he or she tattooed, it was a win for the shop in her eyes! So she was having a hard time understanding and even trying to rationalize his frustration towards her.

Harry was simply jealous, though he’d rather die than ever have to admit that to anyone. Because why would someone as incredibly talented as him be jealous of an apprentice? When he started out right at 18 people saw his skill and knew he was doing it for free to gain experience and he was tattooing up to ten times a week! A great tattoo artist was a great tattoo artist regardless of time, time just made them get better. And he knew he was one of those special people that just took off. But it irked him so much that Y/N was heading there even faster than he was. He had never seen anything like it, it was impressive - another thing he’d choose death over admitting it aloud. He hadn't really gotten a chance to observe her while she worked, but something she was doing was working really well for her, she was like a siren of tattooing. So yeah, he was jealous that an apprentice was getting even more attention than he, an established and reputable artist was.

It was now Thursday of her third week tattooing walk-ins, but she was currently covering the front because Rosa was out sick. She glanced up from the sketch on her iPad when a client walked through the door.

"Welcome, do you have an appointment for today?" She asked with a friendly smile.

"No, I but I was wondering if Y/N was available for a walk-in?" The man asked and she perked up.

“Oh! I'm Y/N! Nice to meet you…?” She asked extending her hand to the man, waiting for his name.

"Ian." He said shaking her hand.

"Ian, thanks for coming in. If you give me a few minutes to find someone to cover I can take a look at what you're wanting to get done, alright?" He nodded and informed her he would pull up his reference photo with a big smile and she excused herself for a moment to head back to the studio and see who wasn't with a client. To her chagrin the only one sitting on his bum sketching at their station was Harry so she tentatively approached him, but he somehow already knew it was her.

"What is it?” He asked monotonously.

"Ummm, a walk-in just came in and asked for me. Can you cover the front for a bit?” She asked him and he sighed and silently stood up and headed off towards the reception area and Y/N followed behind him silently. The only sound was coming from the little beaded curtain serving as the door between the front of the house and the tattooing studio,"Thanks, Harry." She said to him with a smile when he plopped down on the stool behind the register and she scooted a bit further down the counter with the client to keep the register area clear.

"Alright Ian, m’all yours!” She said charmingly and he chuckled, “What were you looking to get done today?" She asked with an easy smile and he handed over his phone.

"I've been wanting this piece done for a long time. It would be my first tattoo." He said as she looked over the reference image with wide eyes. It was a giant Japanese style dragon that wrapped around someone’s whole leg. "I just like the pose of that dragon, you can do it as a Chinese or Japanese dragon, whatever your preferred style and whatnot. And instead of the cherry blossoms I wanted some clouds like these." He said reaching over the screen and sliding it to another photo, "And I’d want it in black and gray.” He finished sharing his concept with a smile.

"Wow, that's really sick, Ian. You want it to wrap around your leg like that too?" Y/N asked and Ian confirmed with a nod. 

Upon hearing that Harry perked up, he was about to cut in and remind her that she wasn't allowed to work on big pieces like that yet.

“God, I really do love this piece but unfortunately as an apprentice I'm just not allowed to work on pieces of this magnitude yet. Especially if they're going to take multiple sessions to complete." She explained and Ian immediately frowned.

"Really? That's B.S. I've seen the tattoos you've done on other people and let me tell you, you don't tattoo like an apprentice!" He said and she giggled.

"Thanks, I appreciate that, but them's the rules." She said with a shrug. "I mean if you're really set on starting this piece as soon as possible Harry here is a phenomenal artist. King of black and gray back in London, or something like that, right Harry?" She asked glancing over to him in question with a friendly smile. He looked to her with a bit of shock but nodded.

"Ummm, yeah, that's it." He confirmed and she smiled at Ian now.

"You'd be in really good hands with him. What do you say?” She asked him, enticing him to consider the alternative.

Quite frankly, Harry was shocked that she had even recommended him. All they'd done the last few weeks were have squabbles, glare at each other, or give each other the silent treatment. He must admit that he was the aggressor in most of these unpleasant exchanges, but if the tables were turned he would do something petty like not recommend someone else to do the tattoo. It was extremely professional of her to set aside her personal feelings for him and really play up his work as a professional. And he got excited for a moment because it had been quite hard to build up clientele so far. In the past few weeks he'd only done one large-ish piece and a project like this would be exactly what he needed to get on the map in L.A.

"Ummm, I'm sure he's amazing. All the artists here are! I was looking at the instagram page before coming in! But I really want to get it done by you." Ian said and her eyebrows arched up, "I kind of have this feeling that you're going to blow up and it would be an honor to have you do my first tattoo and also for me to have one of your first big pieces." He said and she smiled kindly at him and was about to speak when Harry butted in.

"Well that's not possible at this time, mate. Like you heard, she's only an apprentice and she's not allowed to do that yet." Harry responded quite harshly, it made her frown. But he felt his body boiling with jealousy, he could've sworn his head would explode. Y/N was now desperate to soften the unnecessary blow Harry had just delivered to this potential client.

"Oh Ian, I truly appreciate your belief in me to pull something of that magnitude off but Harry is right, that won't be possible today. I really am sorry." She said and he sighed in slight disappointment but smiled none the less.

"Alright, I understand. Well it was worth a try to get in with you." He said and she smiled.

"I could still tattoo you. Do something on a smaller scale for you if you'd like?" She offered and he shook his head.

"Nah, it's alright this one means a lot to me. I'm willing to wait until you're able to tattoo at this scale if you've got like a waiting list or something? I’d like to join it?" He asked and Harry was completely shocked as he heard this. Y/N was too. Her jaw dropped to the ground and she then looked to Harry for some guidance.

"Just take his bleeding contact information, Y/N." He said dryly and she nodded a bit frazzled still, "Jesus..." He mumbled lowly enough that only she could hear as she hurried over to the register and grabbed a sticky note and pen. She wasn't sure why, but his reaction really put a damper on this monumental moment for her. This was huge. He was so unsupportive and rude, it really affected her morale.

"You know, Ian you are the first on my list and I'd be honored to have you be one of my first official tattoos!" She brightened up despite how she felt inside now, "I'm not really sure how long my apprenticeship'll last, but it means a lot that you're willing to wait." She said and he went on and on about how it wasn't an issue and that he was really thrilled for this. She still asked him to email her the inspiration pictures so that she could start practicing the drawing portion and they could start working out some ideas and he was more than willing to do that. After another few minutes and the promise of getting a call when her apprenticeship was over, Ian was leaving with a big smile and a wave goodbye. Once the front door shut she folded up the bright orange sticky note and put it in her back pocket. Harry then stood from the stool and brushed past her silently.

"This morning the bin under my station wasn't emptied out by the way.” He said before he left her.

"Oh, the custodian empties the trash. Must've forgotten, I can leave a note." She said to him and he turned to her with furrowed brows.

"Well if you notice it then just take it out, OK? S'not that hard, is it Y/N?" He asked her.

"Yeah, OK." She responded softly.

"Don't forget that you're still just an apprentice here, Y/N. You think because one loser with some cliche tattoo idea thinks you're the next big thing that you're suddenly too good for everything else that has to get done around here?" He asked her angrily and she turned away from him, he was being ridiculous. She had no idea why he was being such a dick out of nowhere, "Hey, don't ignore me. Look at me when I'm talking to you!" He demanded and she sighed and turned towards him again, "Know your fucking place." He snarled. The air between them grew eerily tense and then he saw a look in her eyes that almost made him apologize to her. Her eyes quickly diverted from his and he watched as her throat bobbed and she bit on the inside of her cheek and she just nodded.

"OK." She nearly whispered before turning back to the register. 

Harry bit on his lip as he just took her in for a moment. She was so tense and she suddenly appeared so small and he just shook it off before he could allow himself to feel bad and walked away.

As soon as he was gone Y/N's tears started to fall, she felt so utterly defeated. She had no idea what she had ever done to him to make him be so hostile towards her, but it was reaching a point that she couldn't handle anymore. Before she could even think about it she reached into her back pocket and blindly tossed the sticky note with Ian's information under the counter where the trash can was. She fanned at her eyes for a moment to stop the tears before someone came in, but she wasn't that fortunate.

"Oh my god, Y/N are you alright?" Auree suddenly asked as she came and rubbed at her shoulder and Y/N sniffled and nodded.

"M'sorry. I'm just on my period and have really bad cramps and I'm super emotional." She fibbed and Auree frowned.

"Oh hon, I get that. Look there's just a couple hours left in the day, why don't you head home early, get some rest." She suggested.

"Are you sure?”

"Yeah, of course. Besides, I don't think sobbing apprentice is a good look for us." She joked and Y/N sputtered on her tears as she chuckled and Auree giggled along."We'll see you tomorrow, OK?" She said and Y/N nodded.

"Thanks, Auree.”

"Of course. I'll get someone to cover." She assured her and with that Auree headed back into the studio and Y/N grabbed her tote bag from the coat hook hanging behind the counter and slipped out of the front door.

"Hey Styles, can you cover the front for the rest of the day? I've got a 5pm coming in." Auree asked, grabbing his attention.

"Where's Y/N?" He asked right away.

"She wasn't feeling well so I told her to go home." Auree said and Harry swallowed thickly and  just nodded.

He grabbed his sketch pad and pencil before he silently made his way over to reception area. He was settling himself in when his pencil rolled off of the counter and under the reception counter. He groaned in annoyance and got off of the stool and stooped below the counter to look for his pencil and he saw it stopped right against the trash can and beside it was a crumbled, neon orange sticky note, like the one he had seen Y/N fold up and put in her pocket not even ten minutes before. He grabbed his pencil and the paper as well. Harry bit his lip as he started to pull apart the little scrap of paper and just as he suspected, there in her too perfect penmanship was inked the name Ian Greene and his phone number and email right below it. That made a sinking feeling appear in his stomach and for his chest to kind of feel heavy. He had been really mean to her, hadn't he? So much so that he made her feel inadequate enough that she didn't even want to tattoo this guy anymore. For a second he let the remorse take a hold of him, but then he just shook it off and stuffed the note in his own back pocket. She needed to toughen up.

************

Y/N was all cried out. Her aunt even offered to order her favorite take out to cheer her up, but she wasn't up for dinner. She didn't tell her what really happened, she didn't want her to make a big deal out of what Harry had said to her. Being an apprentice at Eddie Chan's shop was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If she let this go she would probably never get another shot like this again. But on the other hand, she was miserable now that Harry had come on board, he treated her like she was beneath him, like she was the enemy. In his eyes she couldn't do anything right, he always found something to harp on her about, something to criticize, something to piss her off. She was just disappointed by his behavior and the longer she dwelled on their interaction that afternoon, the more she thought about quitting. 

She considered complaining about it to Auree, but the shop needed a full time artist more than an apprentice, so the logical step would be for her to part ways with English Graffiti. And as she laid in bed, staring at her ceiling she decided that she would give this option some very serious thought. She was just about to turn her Netflix on when her phone started ringing and she saw it was Gerardo FaceTiming her. She cleared her throat and sniffled before she picked up.

"Hey!" He said cheerfully, it looked like he was outside the shop, "Have you been crying?" He asked her with concern.

"I'm fine, G. What's up?”

"Nothing. I just overheard Auree say you weren't feeling too good so I wanted to check in on you." He said.

"Oh, that's sweet of you. But really I am feeling better now." She said as he settled himself into his car.

"Alright, Just being a good friend." He said and she smiled.

"Well, I appreciate it." She responded.

"Look, I know that starting out can be difficult. We can talk about it, if you want, whatever is going on." He offered and she really just wanted to get it off of her chest to someone who understood. And maybe G would just let her vent and not tell anyone anything.

"I do want to talk about it. I think you'd understand." She said.

"Well, I was about to just pick up some dinner, but if you want to meet me somewhere we can eat, have a few drinks?" He offered.

"I would but I'm too lazy to drive." She whined and he chuckled.

"I'll come get you." He offered and she sighed, "It'll be fun…” He sung and she smiled.

"Fine. I'll send you my address, OK?”

"Sounds good." He said before they hung up. 

She Didn't bother with doing herself up too much. She just put on some mascara and her glasses before throwing on some shorts and a t-shirt on. After about 15 minutes she was getting a text from him that he was outside. She called out to her aunt that she would be home late and hurried out to his car.

"Hey!" He greeted happily as she settled into the front seat.

"Hi." She smiled.

"So what's good around here?" He asked her and soon they chose a place and he took off. They talked about the rest of the work day as they waited to be seated and soon enough they were scooting onto some high-chairs of a local gastropub and he was watching her look over the drinks menu, "So are you going to tell me what's actually wrong?" He asked and she sighed.

"I need a drink for that." She said and he chuckled.

"Fine." He mumbled. Soon enough they had both ordered their drinks and he asked her again what was wrong and she sighed. He saw that suddenly her smiley demeanor was gone and she looked conflicted and sad.

"G, I'm ummm- I'm thinking of quitting the apprenticeship." She said and once again her lip was quivering because even the idea of quitting was so painful. She had worked her ass off for this, the amount of rejection she had faced from even small-time artists for then to be acknowledged and taught by someone as renowned as Eddie? It was truly heartbreaking.

"Oh my god, why?! You can't quit!" He immediately protested and she sniffled.

"I know how insane I would have to be to give up on this opportunity, but I just can't do it anymore, G." She said and he frowned and reached for her hand and she took it and squeezed, she didn't want to cry in front of all of these people.

"Can't take what?" He asked her gently.

"Promise you won't say anything? Because I don't want to make trouble and I don't want to appear ungrateful or like I'm being a baby to anyone." She said and he nodded, "I can't work with Harry anymore. He is the biggest asshole I have ever met. I have never felt so undermined and demoralized in my life. He treats me like absolute shit! And the worst part is that I really was looking forward to learning from him. Auree and Eddie were both excited to have me meet him and get to shadow him, but literally from the first day I met him he was a dick to me and..." and so she went off and told him about all of the petty remarks and micro-aggressions and finally what had led her to leave early that day, "-and he literally looked at me and told me to know my place." She sniffled as she dabbed under her eyes with her napkin as the tears inevitably fell.

"No fucking way..." G sighed with a frown and she nodded.

"That was the last straw. Like I feel so discouraged and I don't even want to tattoo in front of him ever again. Like I don't want to see his stupid face or hear his fucking voice!" She vented her frustration.

"I just don't get it... after you tried to get him an appointment for such a big and complex piece he goes and talks you down? Plus being rude to the client? What a dick." G huffed and Y/N nodded.

"I know... like I know that having him there is important and far more logical than having me there, but like Eddie believed in me and brought me on! That has to count for something, no? Like out of everyone there he should understand what it's like because he also apprenticed under Eddie! I just don't understand his beef with me.”

"Maybe he's just jealous that an apprentice is getting more clientele than he is.”

"Well that's not my fault either..." she said and G sighed, "But anyway, please don't tell Auree or anyone else and don't be weird with Harry, I don't want to make him more angry. I just need to figure out if I can manage this or not.”

"Yeah, of course. But you know that I'm always here for you and really, if you get to the point where you want to leave please tell me. I have homies who are also really successful and well known in this industry and I would more than gladly put a good word in for you. You've got real talent, Y/N. I would hate to see you give up on it." He said and she nodded with a small smile.

***********

The next morning Y/N showed up a bit earlier to set up since Rosa was still out and she also needed to handle the front of the house. She was just about done prepping the stations when Harry came in. He had his headphones on and he spared her a look and despite the rage she felt as their eyes met she just offered him a half-smile before she finished setting up the final station. He liked to come early, so she now got his station done first so that he wouldn't have a reason to talk to her. She then walked past him to get to the drawing station and she noticed that his trash can was hidden between his counter and a big snake plant that served as the border between the drawing/stenciling stations and the tattooing station. Once again, his trash was not emptied out. It probably bugged him at his feet and so he'd move it, but the custodian couldn't see it there, she barely saw it.

Despite her irritation with Harry she was going to do her job and try her best not to piss him off any further. He couldn't hate her forever, especially when she was being cooperative with him. So she made her way over and crouched down and he glanced over to see her reaching for his trash can and picking it up. He watched her face and saw there wasn't a fussy look on it nor did she glare in his direction as she stood with the bin in hand and headed towards the back exit of the shop where the dumpster was. 

Harry just sighed and gnawed on his bottom lip as he continued sketching out some designs for a consultation he had to do later in the morning. Shortly after she returned with a new liner in the bin and she set it down exactly where he had left it before.

Harry continued feeling bad and it was growing worse. She hadn't ever really done anything to him. She hadn't ever been rude with him (unless he started it) or treated him poorly. He always gave her grief about how she'd prep his station even after she had learned how he liked things and did them that way, and now this. Going as far as doing something that was not her responsibility without so much as as complaint?

Surely, that hadn't been him when he apprenticed. He whined to just about anyone who would listen about how annoying the prepping and cleaning bits were, because for his first year with Eddie that's all he did. He knew from experience that it was tedious and grueling work at times, so that fact that he had not once heard her complain about it made him respect her just a little bit more. Around 9am more people started coming in and he took off his headphones, he had worn them thinking that Y/N would try to confront him about what he had said to her the day prior, but she didn't seem all that combative today. The vibe he was getting from her was weird, to be quite honest. He strolled into the kitchen and found G making some coffee.

"Morning, G. How's it going?" Harry asked with a smile and G just glanced over at him quickly.

"M'fine thanks." He said plainly. This was odd because usually G was the very friendly energetic one and he always sparked up conversations with everyone.

"Did you do anything fun after work?" Harry asked just to try and keep the conversation going and at this G turned towards him.

"Yeah actually, grabbed some dinner with Y/N." He said and Harry nodded and rolled his lips together before answering.

"That's cool. At least she's feeling better." Harry said and G just hummed before walking out of the lounge. Harry sighed as he went to make his own coffee. He just knew Y/N had said something to him about what had happened the day before and now G was upset with him. Fucking, Y/N.

************

"Y/N, I'm sorry but I was a dick to Harry." G said softly as he came through the beaded curtain and to the waiting area and Y/N sighed as she leaned on the counter.

“G..."

"I'm sorry. I got one look at his face and I got angry." He explained, "Told him we went to dinner." He disclosed.

"Ughhh, fuck. It's fine, don't worry about it." She said and he apologized again, but then left her the coffee he had made for himself as a peace offering.

G actually had a really big appointment today and so she wouldn't be seeing him for most of the day and Vy was almost back to back all day. Aurelia was out supply shopping and Harry had a consultation scheduled for 11:30. She checked in G and Vy's appointments and they got started on their stuff and at around 11:35am Harry wandered out to front.

"Your client hasn't shown yet." She informed him, already knowing what he was coming for.

"Have they called or emailed?" He asked her.

"Nope, sorry." She said and he sighed.

"Fuck me..." he mumbled about to head back.

"Harry, you can have all the walk-ins, I don't feel like tattooing today." She said and he turned back to look at her, she wasn't even looking at him, she just continued doodling on her iPad.

"Why not?" He asked coming back closer.

"I just don't." She said.

"Well yesterday you were practically shitting yourself over that guy's tattoo and you'll never be able to tattoo him unless you get the practice." He said, baiting her and she smiled softly, still focused on her sketch.

"Oh I don't know if I'd want to tattoo that loser, as you so kindly put it, anyway." She said and he rolled his eyes and reached into his back pocket for the sticky note with the guy's contact info, he had every intention of just slipping it in somewhere discretely for her to find.

"Is that why you threw this away yesterday?" He asked slamming down the creased up paper over her iPad. She frowned and was about to respond when the phone rang and she reached for it.

"English Graffiti, this is Y/N how can I help you?" She spoke into the receiver their eyes still locked on each others in anger, "Oh hi, Jennifer." She said and Harry's eyes widened a bit, that was his 11:30, "Oh, well the consultation is just that, you don't have to decide today or even put a deposit down unless you-" the woman cut her off and she stayed quiet, "Are you sure? Ummm, OK. I'll be sure to let him know. Yeah, have a good one, bye." She said and hung up the phone, "She changed her mind about the tattoo." Y/N said and she saw his jaw clench, "Maybe you should keep this and try to convince Ian to let you tattoo him, seems like you could use the clients." She said smugly and she could see him trembling with anger.

"Fuck you." He gritted out as he left the sticky note before he stormed off towards the studio.

"If you're not going to call him should I just send you the walk-ins?" She called after him and he didn't respond and she smirked to herself in satisfaction. After about 15 minutes of feeling on the summit of success that feeling soon faded and made her feel bad.

He was the only person who knew about Ian, despite being a dick about it at the moment he saw the note in the trash or wherever it fell and didn't just leave it there. He intended to give it to her and that was at least a little bit nice of him. And as she thought about him she considered that maybe he was being such a prick because he was under severe amounts of stress and pressure. He had moved from another country for this job and had only been doing walk-ins here and there. For an artists of his caliber it was probably really discouraging and frustrating. 

When she had searched him up she saw that he was typically booked up months in advance and now he couldn't even land a single client. Maybe G was right and he was jealous of her to some extent? She sighed as she realized that revenge was not as sweet as people made it out to be. No one was due to be coming in until 2pm for Vy. So she stood from the stool at the register and went to lock the front door and left a sticky note reading "BACK IN 10!" That was visible if someone tried to look in. She then headed back and saw that Harry wasn't at his station and she walked back towards the lounge and the bathroom and they were both empty. So she then pushed her way out of the back exit and looked around and saw him sitting against the building wall and when he saw it was her he shot her a dirty look.

"Can you fuck off?" He asked her angrily and she sighed as she approached him.

“No."

"Please, Jesus... just leave me alone, Y/N. I'm not in the mood." He grumped.

"I just wanted to apologize to you for what I said. That was really low and uncalled for." She said as she looked in his eyes. Harry felt that it wasn't uncalled for, he had been such an ass to her that she didn't even want to tattoo, he deserved it. "I can't begin to imagine how frustrating it must be for you to go from being booked out months in advance to just... struggling to figure things out here. Seriously, I don't feel like tattooing, you can have all the walk-ins. At least that way you make money and the shop makes money too." She said and he scoffed.

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me." He said and she shook her head.

"It's not that, I'm just saying that I understand that this is probably frustrating for you because this is literally your livelihood and I'm still doing this for free. So if you get the walk-ins it's a win for you and a win for the shop, that's all." She explained and he stayed quiet, "So do you want to take the walk-ins or what?" She asked him and he just looked at her.

"Why don't you want to tattoo?" He questioned and she sighed.

"I already told you, I don't feel like it, Harry." She responded.

"Is it because of me?" He asked and her eyes didn't waiver from his as she responded.

"It's cute that you think you affect me that much." She said flatly before walking back towards the back door, "I'm giving you the walk-ins, OK?" She called out before heading inside again and he let out a dry laugh. He was the apprentice’s charity case. Nice.

Y/N was a nice person and for some reason he had really honed in on her and made her miserable and despite that she still came out and apologized to him for finally snapping and saying something just as hurtful to him as he had said and done to her since he arrived. The entire time she kept her head down, stuck it out, and finally it seemed that he was wearing her down. She was right, he was frustrated and stressed and discouraged. He was literally starting to wonder if he had made a mistake in leaving London for L.A., even starting up things had never been this hard for him and it was... scary. He sat out there for a good half an hour before Vy popped out and let him know that a walk-in had come in and so he took a few deep breaths before heading inside and getting to work. 

That day he ended up seeing about 8 people, all tattoos were small and simple things. However, the shop minimum was $120, with Eddie's name tied to this shop they were on the higher-end of tattoo shops and charged a big pricey with good reason. His was actually the last tattoo of the night, a matching friends tattoo for two young women, he could hear them gushing about it and asking Y/N to take photos for them up front as he cleaned up his station, soon he heard the front door open and close before the loud latch of the lock. After a few moments Y/N was coming to the back with her tote.

"Here Harry, the girls left these for you." She said and Harry turned around and she placed $40 in his hand and a post-it note with one of the girls' number and he rolled his eyes with a chuckle and put the $40 in his pocket and crumbled the sticky note before tossing it in the trash and she laughed softly, "Told her you wouldn't go for it…"

"And how would you know that?" He asked.

"Because you're too much of a professional." She said and he hummed.

She then went over to the disinfectant cart and grabbed the wipes and spray and went over the chairs and counters. Harry moved his things to the light-up desk where he was working on a stencil without her having to ask. As the disinfectant cooked on the surfaces for a bit she grabbed the broom and started sweeping. He could imagine that she was exhausted, first to arrive and last to leave, but once again, he noticed that she didn't show her exhaustion, or whine or complain about anything or even mention that she was tired as she picked up whatever little garbage she swept up and then proceeded to wipe down the counters and chairs. She finished before him and after putting things away she grabbed her bag.

"Good night!" She called out to him and wasn't phased when she didn't get a response. But she was surprised to hear him rush up behind her as everything went dark and he hurried ahead of her to open up the back door for her and they both stepped out into the parking lot. She locked up with her keys, feeling a bit odd about him lingering beside her. When she looked up to him he was looking at her a bit expectantly.

"Why don't you want to tattoo?" He asked her again and she sighed and started heading to her car, "Hey, you're really fucking good, you know that right?" He asked and she kept walking as she unlocked her car, "Hey, Y/N-" He said grabbing her arm and she spun around with a perplexed look on her face.

"What Harry?" She asked through a sigh.

"I know I've been...hard on you, but-" he said and she guffawed.

"Hard on me?" She scoffed incredulously, "Try a fucking nightmare, a jerk, a prick, a complete douche, a complete asshole, a-“

"OK Jesus, I get it!" He interrupted loudly.

"No, I don't think you do. I never did anything to you and from the moment you met me you started acting this way and why? I don't know and quite frankly I don't care to hear your excuses for it, Harry." She said and he frowned, "Why don't I want to tattoo? I'll tell you why." She said, "I'm so mentally drained from trying to deal with you and whatever vendetta you have against me every fucking day that I can't even think creatively anymore!" She admitted as her eyes started welling up, "And I get this whole "haze the new person" thing that people do and shit and I could deal with something like that but when Auree told me you'd be joining the team I looked you up and I was so excited to work with you! I was looking forward to shadowing you and learning from someone as talented as you. Someone who had gotten to where they are via the same trajectory I was on and man, what a fucking disappointment you turned out to be." She said sadly and his heart sunk and a large and uncomfortable lump formed in his throat.

”I have never felt so humiliated and belittled by another person in my entire life." she sniffled, "And it sucks because this is my dream. I have worked and struggled for years to even land an apprenticeship and you know what? I am so miserable here and I hate it." She said sadly and there was silence for a moment as she sighed, "I'm thinking about quitting." She admitted in a solemn tone as their eyes met, "And yes, Harry. It's all because of you." Her voice cracked and she kept walking. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and went up to her as she got into her car.

“Y/N-"

"Please leave me alone." She said as she shut the door and turned on her car. He knocked on her window a few times.

"Hey, c'mon, I really thought we were getting somewhere today!" He said and she rolled her window down.

"You really thought that just because I can put myself in your shoes and be nice to you?" she asked him like he was an idiot, "You're fucking delusional, Harry. I'm simply being professional despite how I feel about you. Even if I'm barley being paid to be here and don't have years of experience, this is where I'm working and I'm through playing this stupid fucking game with you. I don't want anything to do with you-“

"Y/N, you're too good to quit tattooing." He interrupted her.

"I fucking know that, you asshole! I'm not thinking of quitting because you make me insecure about my abilities! Who the fuck do you think you are? I'm thinking of quitting because I deserve better than this." She said and Harry was frozen, "I'll see you tomorrow." She said and rolled up her window before driving off.

Now Harry felt even more like shit about himself and during this entire conversation he couldn't even find it in himself to apologize to her. She was right, all he would do was make another excuse and avoiding getting to the root of the issue. It made him feel like shit that she, for a brief time, looked up to him and had the intent of learning from him. She was so talented and had an envious work ethic. He somehow needed to make this right.

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I hope you guys are interested in reading this new series!

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