#anyways this song...it's kinda like an outlook that she slowly picks up over the years <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[ofgentleresolve]

also i finally found a song that like, screams mana to me?

[staticscreenwriting]

The vision of your happiness - Billy Hargrove

This is my entry for @lets-hargroove​‘s Valentine’s Day writing challenge. I chose “Are you wearing that for me” as my prompt. This is pure fluff. I hope you guys enjoy & happy belated V-day.

A crisp layer of frost lays upon the grounds, covers the hills and the valleys and wraps the entirety of Hawkins in a sparkling blanket of ice.

It’s february and it’s freezing and (Y/N) wishes herself back to warmer days. To skin glistening in the sun. To the scent of heat and sunscreen. To hanging out by the pool. Watching him. Waiting. Counting down the minutes until it was time for him to clock out.

To fucking in the showers, trying not to get caught. To summer and pleasure and excitement.

It all seemed to exhilarating then. The keeping things hush hush. The sneaking around. It was their secret then and keeping it was an adventure. It was bold and daring and fun. 

But summer soon gave way for the fall and then the cold winds of winter. And with the snow and the cold, came the realisation that whatever it is they have — is an eternal “almost”.

With the pool being closed until may, the two of them had eventually been forced to relocate their tête-à-tête to another place. Gone are the days of spending what felt like an eternity underneath the warm spray of the shower. Nowadays he picks her up somewhere, they drive out to lovers lake. They park somewhere a bit off the path — to make sure their secret stays their secret. They kiss. They make out. They fuck. And once the fogged up windows clear up again, they get out. They share a cigarette. Sometimes they talk.

And then they let the realistation settle deep inside them. They let it consume them. From their hearts outwards. To their brains. Their lungs. Their bones. The realisation that this is just a temporary fix. That what they have is everything and nothing all at once. It’s halfway something. Halfway in love. Halfway happy. 

She thinks that’s what hurts the most. The knowledge that there is something there, it’s just not enough for him. If this was just sex, if it was nothing more, it would be so easy. But there’s a palpable tension between them. A certain kind of connection. A tingling in the air. 

Yet there’s a big cloud that seems to follow them around constantly, hanging above their heads heavy with rain about to pour down on them. She knows what the cloud is made of. Billy knows it too. It’s the knowledge that he hates it here, that he 100% wants to go back to California. It’s made of fears and doubts and the absolute horror that comes with thinking about the future. 

And the biggest part of it all, is the fact that Billy Hargrove doesn’t do relationships. 

So they stay there, on that line of being halfway something. 

Billy is leaning against the Camaro, cigarette dangling from his lips making him look so effortlessly cool it’s almost unfair. His hair sticks to his skin from their earlier workout, she thinks it makes him look like James Dean. That thought scares her. Billy, and this has to be blatantly obvious to him too, is a vision of all things gorgeous in this world. He’s soft golden curls and sharp jawline. He’s wicked grin and sparkling blue eyes. 

He’s an amalgamation of all things beautiful in the world. And (Y/N) is — well, she’s (Y/N). She knows she should be happy about things being the way they are. If sex, and friendship, is all she’s gonna get from him — she should be thankful about that. To even have that is more than she ever deemed possible.

But it doesn’t make her happy. Not all the way. Only ever halfway.

“ You going to the Valentine’s dance thing on friday ? “ Billy murmures around his cigarette.

“ Nope. “ 

“ Why not ? You got something better to do ? A hot date ? “ 

If only, she thinks, if only there was someone else. Maybe things would be easier than. Maybe it would be easier to let go of Billy. Alas there is no one else. Just him. 

“ No. No one’s asked me and I think it would be kinda shit to go by myself. I mean, it’s a Valentine’s Day dance so showing up alone is social suicide. “ 

For a moment, a spark of hope flickers inside of her. Like maybe this is the moment he’s gonna take the next step with her. Pull them out of the shadows, out of the deserted dressing rooms and fogged up cars and into the light. So that anyone can see. And she’s not asking for a love confession or anything. It’s just that dancing along the line of being something and being nothing is awfully exhausting and absolutely confusing.

“ Well, Valentine’s is dumb anyway.” 

Just like that, the flicker is gone. The hope is gone. All that is left is painful emptiness.

It’s not exactly the truth, per say. Someone has asked her but that person is Michael O’Hara and though he’s a nice enough guy, he’s not Billy. In fact, Billy detests him. He’s fairly well off, his dad owns a construction company, his mom does charity work. They have a nice house and a big garden and a golden retriever. They are everything personified that Billy resents. She didn’t tell him no. She didn’t tell him yes either. 

How was she expected to give Michael a proper answer if her heart was all over the place ?

“ Well you sound like a romantic. “

“ It’s all bullshit. “ 

“ You telling me you don’t believe in love ? “

Billy takes another drag from his cigarette, the muscles in his jaw straining as he inhales. If god ever came close to creating perfection, Billy was it, (Y/N) thought.

“ You telling me you do ? Tell me one couple that makes you believe in it ? My parents hate each other. Your parents hardly acknowledge each other. Outlook’s not so good if you ask me. “

He has a point, (Y/N) has to give him that. None of the adult relationships in their lives seem to work out too well. If love had ever been there in the first place, it is gone by now. And yet, to give up on it entirely seems foolish. If you can’t believe in love what else is there to believe in ? 

And what if the one person you love most, thinks it’s but a stupid fantasy.

“ So you don’t ever wanna like — fall in love ? Get married ? “ 

Billy regards her for a moment, barely letting his eyes travel towards her but she can see him glance through the corner of his eyes. “ Waste of time. “

It’s like a dagger straight to her heart. Waste of time. Waste of time. It repeats like a mantra in her mind. Over and over again.

“ That’s good to know. “ 

“ Mmh “.

A silence settles upon them and even though they often find themselves in a situation much like this one, it feel different now. As if the world has somehow shifted, lost the gravity that previously held it all together. Now they’re floating in a limbo. Drifting further and further away. And for the first time in a while (Y/N) doesn’t know how much longer she can hold onto him.

“ What are you doing tomorrow night ? “ Billy asks, dropping his cigarette bud on the ground before facing her properly for the first time since they’ve gotten out of the car. His eyes are intense and sometimes she thinks she can see something in them. Something more. Something that’s certain. Something that’s a definitely, not an almost.

But as soon as it flashed up, its gone again, making her wonder if it’s just a case of wishful thinking.

“ Work. You know the diner goes all out for Valentine’s week. “ 

Billy knows this. In fact it was Valentine’s week last year that the two of them properly met for the first time. 

Billy was bitter, about his move to Hawkins, about the situation with his dad, about life in general. 

And to top it all off, Hawkins Indiana seemed to have been captured by 

the greeting card industry. There were dances and parties themed after Valentine’s and paper hearts in every shop window. It felt like the world was mocking him.

The boy was hasn’t even been loved surrounded by an abundance of superficial displays of affection.

So he ended up at the diner, hoping for some peace and quiet — and some chili cheese fries.

What he go instead, was a diner looking as if Cupid himself had thrown up in there, a jukebox playing 1950s love songs and her. 

Her smiling. Her laughing. Her looking at him, eyes full of wonder and excitement and joy. Her.

Her dressed as a — heart ? 

“ Hi, welcome to Stella’s and happy Valentine’s week. My name is (Y/N), I am your waitress today. Can I start you off with some drinks ? “ 

There was something about her then. About the bliss in her voice. The smile on her face. about how she looked absolutely ridiculous in the foam heart costume that gave her very little room to move her arms. Ridiculous. But also fucking adorable.

“ Are you wearing that for me ? “ 

He expected her to react like all the other Hawkins girls did whenever he paid them even the smallest amount of attention. Blush and get flustered and wrap herself around his finger.

She didn’t though. She smirked and said “ I might be” and winked and then asked for his order of drink again. 

And for the first time in his life he thought that Valentine’s maybe wasn’t all that bad.

“ Hmm… I might pop round then. Get some chili fries. Grace you with my company. “ 

She hates that this makes her heart flutter. It shouldn’t but it does. It also comes with a bitter aftertaste though. Because this affection is only reserved for when they are alone or in the company of people they don’t know all too well. She knows that as soon as one of their classmates shows up, he’s gonna recoil. Pretend like she’s just another girl. Someone he almost knows, but doesn’t.

It hurts. God does it hurt.

And yet she smiles and nods and says “ sure “ and kisses him like she’s not desperately trying to hold together the pieces of her heart slowly crumbling. 

Earth Angel by the penguins is blasting from the jukebox and Billy enters the diner. The bell above the door chimes up and alarms (Y/N) of a new customer.

As soon as he catches sight of her, Billy thinks his heart might give out. She’s not a heart this time. She’s an angel. Maybe a cupid. He’s not sure. She’s in a red tulle skirt, a white shirt with a red heart on it. Red angel wings are strapped to her back and she’s glued little red sequin hearts to her cheeks, just below her eyes.

But her lips. God, her lips are what really make him feel some kind of way. Red and glossy and like they might taste of cherries or strawberries or candy apples. 

“ Hi “ she chirps as she approaches him, a bounce in her step “ Happy Valentine’s week. My name is (Y/N) and I am your waitress today. Can I start you off with some drinks ? “

He smiles back, a smile that he actually means, one he feels in his heart. Which is fucking terrifying honestly. 

“ Are you wearing that for me ? “ he asks, slightly tugging at a feather of her wings.

And just like the first time, she smirks, directs him to a table, winks and says “ I might be. “ 

And just like the first time, his heart starts beating just a little faster.

Things seem to go so well, until they don’t. 

For almost two hours, Billy sits in his booth, eating chili cheese fries, watching (Y/N) move around the diner. Every once in a while she comes over, steals a fry, leaves a kiss on his lips. It all feels so so gentle, so sweet. So right.

And then — reality settled back in.

(Y/N)’s heart drops as soon as she bell chimes up and she catches sight of who it is that has just entered. 

Tommy and Carol are loud. They are obnoxious. They are exhausting. But that’s not the reason why she’s dreading their company. It’s the influence they have on Billy.

All the softness and the affection vanished in the matter of a heartbeat. He’s back to being bitter and stoic and cold. And it hurts.

There’s no smiles from him as she approaches his table, the one they have just invited themselves to. 

“ Hi, happy Valentine’s week. My name is (Y/N) and I am your waitress can I get you something to drink ? “ 

Carol only musters her with a mix of amusement and ridicule. Tommy though, loudmouth he is, laughs at her. Not a funny, radiant, charming laugh. A mean one.

“ Look at you ! I hope they pay you a bunch for putting you into that stupid get-up. “ 

It doesn’t hurt. In fact, she doesn’t give a single fuck about what Tommy thinks.

What hurts, is Billy. Billy laughing along. Not a charming laugh either. Not the laugh she loves. A mean one. A ridiculing one.

What hurts is the way he looks at her then, as if she’s a stranger. As if he hasn’t been inside of her just last night. As if he hadn’t been placing soft kisses along her neck, whispering sweet nothings against her skin.

What hurts is when he scoffs and says “ She’s a waitress, Tommy. How much are they possibly paying her ? Not enough to wear that ridiculous shit. “ 

That’s what hurts. So damn much.

(Y/N) hopes he can see it in her eyes when they lock with his. That it breaks her. That it hurts her so much. She hopes he can see it, she hopes that he knows. She hopes that a little part of him, even if it’s teeny tiny, she hopes that part hurts too. 

“ They pay alright actually. “ she responds, wiping the table clean once again and pulling out her notepad.

“ Are you coming to the dance, (Y/N) ? “ Carol chimes up before ordering a diet coke.

“ Actually, I am “ 

It’s then, that Billy’s eyes snap up. They hold something else now, something she’s not familiar with. If she didn’t know better she’d say it’s jealousy. She does know better though. Billy isn’t jealous. You have to care to be jealous. And Billy obviously doesn’t care. At least not about her.

“ Really ? Who are you going with ? “ Carol inquires. 

“ Michael O’Hara “ 

She tries to see something in Billy’s reaction though he stays still. As if the frost from outside has suddenly taken over his body as well, freezing him in place. 

“ Oh, “ Carol says “ he’s a sweet guy. Good for you. “ 

It’s strange but she sounds almost sincere. As sincere as Carol can sound. And that, is maybe a tiny flicker or joy in this god awful situation. 

“ Yeah, he really is a sweet guy. There’s very few of them.” (Y/N) replies before walking towards the counter to get their drinks, not granting Billy as much as another glance.

It’s a while later, Carol and Tommy long gone, that Billy walks up to the register. There’s the usual suaveness about him. He looks so effortlessly cool. But where he usually seems unbothered, something doesn’t seem right in that moment.

“ You just gonna ignore me for the rest of the night ? “ 

“ Oh I’m sorry, I’m busy trying to make a living on my silly little waitress job. “ 

Billy scoffs and it makes her angry. He’s so smug, so complacent. “ God, you can’t seriously be pissed because of that comment. It was a dumb joke, (Y/N). “ 

“ Jokes are meant to be funny. “ 

“ And it was. “ 

“ Not to me, it wasn’t. “ 

He shakes his head in a dismissive motion. As if she has no right to be offended. No right to feel hurt.

“ You said you didn’t have a date for the dance, now suddenly you’re going with Michael O’Hara. Pretty boy Mike ? He’s not even your type. “ 

“ How the fuck would you know that ? “ 

“ I know you. “ 

“ You don’t know shit, Billy. “ 

“ I know what you like and it’s not guys like him. “ 

“ Oh really ? Do you ? If you knew me that well you’d know that the way you’re treating me when your friends are around, that hurts Billy. If you don’t want them to know that we’re fucking, that’s fine with me. I just don’t understand why you have to be such an asshole when they are around. Why can’t they know that we’re friends at least ? Am I really that embarrassing ? Are you really that ashamed of me ? “ 

Billy combs his fingers through his curls in the same way he always does when he’s aggravated, when he’s annoyed, when he’s frustrated. She hates that she can tell 

his moves and gestures so clearly. Hates that she knows him so well when he seems to know absolutely nothing about her. If only she didn’t love him so much, life could be so easy. So simple.

So painless.

“ It’s not like that “ he tries to explain.

“ Then what is it like ? Explain it to me, Billy. Because quite frankly I don’t understand it. “ 

Time seems to slow down as she’s waiting for him to reply. To give her an explanation, and apology, anything. 

What she gets, is silence. Thick with words unspoken. Thick with tension. With pain. With heartbreak.

“ Yeah that’s what I thought. Go fuck yourself, Billy. “ 

She disappears through the swinging doors and enters the break room, just about holding it together. That’s until she hears the bell above the door chime up once again, then the door slam, then the unmistakable sound of the camaro starting.

Then, and only then, does she allow herself to fall apart. Slide down the wall, sit on the floor. And cry. And feel. And cry some more.

Until eventually she’s all out of tears and all that’s left is a feeling of overwhelming emptiness.

Michael is a nice guy. He’s attentive and sweet and a real gentleman. He’s picked her up at 6 sharp, he’s been extremely charming when meeting her parents, he’s wearing a gorgeous suede suit. Everything about him should make her swoon. He’s the guy her heart should be longing for.

Only love doesn’t know no rules nor guidelines. It doesn’t operate on rational thoughts. 

The heart wants what it wants and, no matter how much she tries to fool herself into believing there’s anything she can do about it if only she tries hard enough, (Y/N) heart doesn’t want Michael.

She has to admit that simple fact to herself as she’s clutching a cup of spiked punch in her hand as Michael sits next to her rambling about some topic or another. He’s such a nice dude and deserves better. Better than a girl who’s heart is somewhere completely else.

The gym suddenly feels stuffy, like the walls are closing in and the room is getting smaller and smaller. There’s too many people here, too much noise. She needs a breather. A second to catch herself. To soften the inevitable fall.

“ Hey, Mike. I’ll go catch some air real quick, “ she announces, softly squeezing his arm in a friendly way. He’s so nice. He’s too nice.

“ Oh sure, d’you want me to come ? “ 

“ No. No you enjoy yourself. I uh — I’ll be fine. “ 

And he doesn’t complain or object and, when their eyes meet, she can see it all as clear as day. The defeat. The disappointment. The sadness. The gratefulness that it’s ending before it’s properly begun, before too many feelings got involved.

He knows, as well as she does, that this ain’t working. This isn’t even an almost and though the outcome isn’t what either of them had desired for it to be, a definite nothing is quite a lot better than an uncertain almost.

“ Alright. Let me know if you need me. “ 

She nods, then pushes through the crowd of dancing teenagers, sweaty, sticky, unruly. The cold february air hits her skin as she steps outside, goosebumps are rising all over. Her fingers are itching for a cigarette but she’s shared the last cigarette from her package with Billy the other day and hasn’t gotten around to buy a new one.

So she rests her back against the cold concrete wall of the school building and looks up into the sky. The stars twinkle back at her like tiny rhinestones on a veil of dark blue fabric. It all seems so vast right then, like she’s but a tiny speck of dust on the grand scheme of things. It’s both, scary and insanely exciting. 

“ You got a smoke ? “ 

His voice sends involuntary chills down her spine. It’s like golden honey melting in a cup of warm milk. Thick and rich and warm and homey. 

His voice sounds like home, when it definitely shouldn’t. It does anyway.

“ What are you doing out here, Michael not bring it ? “ 

“ Look if you’re here to make fun o — oh wow. “ 

He’s in a suit. Not a uber fancy one that one would wear to a wedding, but a suit nonetheless. There’s no bow, no tie, no cummerbund. His shirt is halfway unbuttoned. He’s still wearing his biker boots and the silver earring is dangling from his earlobe. 

If there was ever a person who looked out of place, it’s Billy in this moment. 

“ I’m not here to make fun of you. “ 

The sincerity in his voice is overwhelming. Like nothing she’s ever heard before. Especially not from him. “ I’m sorry. “ 

It’s two word. Two simple fucking words. And yet they hold the meaning of a lifetime. It seems that once he’s spoken them, her world gains back a bit of gravity. That with accepting his own faults he is pushing her world back into the right position. Slowly. Carefully. But he’s doing it nonetheless.

“ You’re wearing a suit. “ 

“ It’s a dance, it’s mandatory. “ 

“ Why are you at the dance ? Thought you didn’t believe in love. “ 

“ It’s not that I don’t believe in love, “ Billy confesses “ It’s just that I was never shown how it’s supposed to feel or work. I wasn’t loved in a long time so the way we feel about each other is making me freak the fuck out. Because I’ve not felt like this in a long time, if ever. I don’t know how to deal with it so I sabotage myself. You are not embarrassing though and neither is your job. You are far from it. You are way too good for my dumb ass. “ 

“ What are you saying, Billy ? “ 

“ I’m falling in love with you and it terrifies me. I’m so scared of fucking it up that I ruin things before it can get that far. But then I — I realised that I could lose you. And the Michael O-fucking-Hara of all people. And that thought is honestly way worse. Because when I’m with you I have good moments, and I don’t have a lot of those in my everyday life but with you — with you there are so many. So I realised I have to stop being such a pussy and actually get off my ass and tell you how I feel even if it’s scary. You’re allowed to stop me any second by the way, talking about my feeling makes me feel icky but I’ll do it anyway if it means you’ll forgive me. “ 

“ Billy. “ 

“ Because I am falling in love with you and I don’t care who knows or doesn’t know. I just need you to know. That’s all that matters. “ 

If there was ever a moment to be soft, to be kind, to be forgiving — it is tonight. Underneath a thousand sparkling stars, as a lovesong plays from the inside of the gym. As he looks at her with eyes filled with adoration and passion and — .

She takes his face in between hers and for a second, all she does is look into his eyes. Maybe she’ll regret this one day. Failure is always a possibility. But so is success. So is the prospect of a loving relationship. A romance that will defy the odds. That will be so different to the examples their parents have set. 

Her lips meet his in a soft kiss, so gentle it’s hardly there at all. And yet he feels it all over. In his head, his heart. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

“ Sometimes good things are scary, Billy. Like Rollercoasters or Horror Movies, or love. “ 

He kisses her again, takes her breath away. But she thinks if this is how it goes, she’ll gladly do without oxygen.

“ Hey Billy, I got a question. “ 

“ What’s that ? “ 

She looks him up and down, then smiles. A smile so radiant it can rival the stars.

“ Are you wearing that for me ? “ she asks and tugs on the bottom of his suit jacket.

And Billy ? He kisses her again, then smiles and replies. “ I might be. “ 

[angryinternetduck]

Canyon Moon

3.2k words on a girl with a yellow guitar, a rabbit named Rabbit, and dreams of Switzerland. Harry Styles is still thinking back to the time under the canyon moon.  Warnings: little teeny tiny bit of bad language if you squint. 

In 2014, Harry Styles wrote a song. It was called Olivia. A bit on the nose, but she didn’t seem to mind. He sang it with his boy band. They liked it. It was a good song. He’d based it on a night he’d had in Arizona, in the United States, a few years before. It was after a small show he’d done with the boys, in Flagstaff. It was, unsurprisingly, with a girl named Olivia. 

**********

She opened the show for them. 

Kind of. 

She was absolutely radiant - wonderful stage presence - with a sparkling smile and a musical laugh. Her guitar was yellow, and it had a little flower in the corner. She was lovely, with dirty blonde hair and green eyes. 

They hadn’t talked much before the show, but she’d sent him a smile - that wasn’t even just to him; it’d been to the entire band, really - that had sent butterflies to his stomach and a shiver down his spine. 

Which hadn’t exactly helped his pre-show jitters. 

But, as always, everything had faded away onstage, and he hadn’t given it much thought until she’d been lounging around backstage afterwards and Louis was sleeping and Niall was in the loo and Liam and Zayn were doing God knows what and Harry was left on the sofa with empty air and a pretty girl. 

So, naturally, with all his humour and slick confidence and smooth moves, he said, “Good show.” And she looked up, and she said, “Thanks. You too.” And then there was empty air again, and Harry was almost awkward, but then she stuck out her hand - her nails were painted yellow with little smilies on them - and said, “I’m Olivia.” 

And Harry smiled, and he shook her hand, and he said, “Pleasure, Olivia. I’m Harry.” 

“Well, Harry,” Olivia said, “any idea where we can get some food around here?” 

Harry shook his head. 

“Come with me then.” She winked. “We can go on an adventure.” 

Harry grinned and followed her up to a counter with bowls set out, filled with various candies and nuts. There were two, side by side, filled with little, circular colored candies. “Skittles or M&Ms?” Harry asked. 

“Hmmm…” She glanced from one bowl to the other and slid both of them closer to Harry. “I’m not a fan of M&MS,” she said, and Harry gasped dramatically, and she giggled. “Not a fan of milk chocolate. Skittles are fine, though.” 

“Wow. Not a fan of M&MS. Not sure if we can be friends after that, Olivia.” 

She pouted. “That’s a problem, because I think I need you to be my taste tester.” 

“Taste tester, eh?” He sighed. “Well, I guess I can do that…” He picked one up and inspected it. It had a little M on it. It was an M&M. He tasted it anyway. “M&M,” he said, and he slid the bowl towards him. “Don’t worry,” he told the bowl. “I’ll protect you from the evil haters.” 

Olivia laughed, and Harry had the sudden notion that her laugh sounded like music, and she said, “Why, thank you,” and slid the Skittles closer to her. “Don’t worry,” she said to the bowl, mocking Harry. “I’ll protect you from the evil milk chocolate.” 

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes, popping an M&M into his mouth. 

“So,” Olivia sighed, grabbing a Skittle, “Where’re you guys from? Britain, I’m guessing?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. ‘re you an Arizona native?”

“Mhm. Been here all my life…” She grinned. “Like it so far?” 

“Yeah. ‘s big. ‘n flat.” 

She laughed, putting up a warning finger. “Careful there, London. That’s my hometown you’re talking about.” Harry smiled, held his hands up. “My bad, my bad. Just… haven’t gotten a chance to… see it much.” 

She nodded. “Right, right.” She smiled, putting on mock innocence. “Say, Harry, what’re you doing this evening?” Harry shrugged, grinning. “I dunno, I guess it depends. I was kinda hoping to see more of this Arizona place, but nobody’s exactly offered…” He tilted his head, mocking curiosity. “Say, Liv, know of anybody?”  

Her eyebrows jumped. “Liv, huh? Might as well take me to dinner first…” 

Harry smiled and cleared his throat. “Maybe I will. Know any good spots?” 

She grinned. “I just might. In fact -” She faltered, her gaze flicking behind him, and Harry frowned, glancing around. Niall had, apparently, finished in the loo, and was sauntering up to them with a smug smile on his face. 

“Hello, Harry,” Niall said cheerfully, throwing an arm around Harry’s shoulders. 

“Hey, Ni. Er, this is… Olivia,” Harry said. “And Olivia, this is… Niall.”  Olivia smiled. “Hey, there,” she said, and Niall grinned. “A pleasure, Olivia. But, er - you’re not stealing Harry here from us, are you?” 

Harry rolled his eyes, but Olivia just smirked. “Rather I’d steal you, huh?” 

Niall gave an incredulous scoff. “Well, well, well.” He glanced at Harry. “Sure know how to pick ‘em, dontcha, Harry?” Harry sighed, and Niall grinned and asked Olivia, “Where’re you off to, then?” Olivia smiled. “Ever been to the Grand Canyon?” she asked, and Harry’s brows jumped as Niall oohed. 

“Haven’t, actually,” Niall said. 

Olivia grabbed Harry’s hand and replied, “You should go sometime, Niall. Maybe Harry will tell you what it’s like,” and pulled Harry back towards the couch. “Are you guys actually doing anything?” she asked, grabbing her guitar. 

Harry hesitated, glancing back at Niall, who was giving him a double thumbs up. 

“Nah. Were you serious about the Grand Canyon?” 

She grinned. “Absolutely.” 

***

The next thing Harry knew, he was in a little Mini Cooper speeding off into the night. 

The car was quite… peculiar, on first sight. That’s what Harry had said, anyway, only to be immediately chastened by Olivia, “She is not peculiar. She has character.” Olivia had forgiven Harry for the horrific insult only after profuse apologies and a sorrowful pat on the dashboard. 

“She,” of course, meant the car. Her name was Carla. Olivia was very strict on that matter. She gave him a slap across the wrist every time he slipped and called her it. 

Carla was blue. Originally. Olivia’s brother had given Carla to her when she turned sixteen, Olivia explained, but only after a DIY paint job that had turned her from a dull blue to a bright shade of yellow that had rapidly deteriorated into a faded mustard sort of color with cracks of blue peeking through the second paint job. 

They’d gotten her previously used, too, which meant she was a bit rusty. They tried to fix that up, which worked just about as well as the paint job, and though Olivia insisted she ran just fine, her passenger side door creaked and groaned when opened. And, Olivia admitted a bit sheepishly, the door of her boot - her trunk - stuck dreadfully and took “herculean strength” to pry open. 

Nonetheless, Carla’s radio worked perfectly well and was cranked up, Olivia’s phone plugged into the speakers, and Harry watched in mild amusement as she yelled along to the music. Strangely, he couldn’t seem to recognize any of the songs - it was old hippie stuff, songs Harry would mock if not for Olivia’s charm and fierce pride for her car which he reckoned she’d also have for her music. 

The ride was quick, and she was pulling into a car park within an hour. 

***

Apparently, Olivia’s dad was a park ranger. She just waved at the ranger on duty, and he let them in, and Harry followed her along the path, a bit in awe, as she walked towards a little outcropping. 

“It’s beautiful,” Harry breathed, sitting next to her on the metal rung of the railing. 

Olivia nodded. Pulled a beer out of her backpack, and offered it to him. 

“Bloody hell,” Harry laughed, taking it from her and taking a sip. “Is this even legal?” 

She shrugged, popping the cap off another bottle. “I dunno.” 

She lapsed into silence, something that Harry hadn’t thought possible from her, and Harry breathed a sigh, glancing around them. He’d never thought the sky could be so blue. It wasn’t a normal light sky blue, though, but an indigo shade, almost, that was star splattered and covered in wisps of colored clouds. They were pretty high up, balanced on the railing between an outlook and a few rocky platforms before a bottomless pit. 

The moon was bright in the sky, and Harry glanced at his watch, realizing he had no idea what time it was. 3:00 am. “Jesus Christ,” he murmured. “Hm?” Olivia hummed, looking over at him. “It’s three am,” Harry told her. 

She grinned. Clinked her bottle against his. “Wonderful,” she said. 

“I’m going to be absolutely dead tomorrow,” Harry mused, finding that he really couldn’t care less. He took another sip of beer, and Olivia heaved a sigh. “So, Harry Styles,” she said. “What are your hopes and dreams?” 

“To be as cool as you,” he replied, and she laughed, leaning into him and away. “You’ve got to set some realistic goals, there, Mr. Styles.” Harry grinned, shaking his head. “‘s a tough question,” he said. “What’re yours?” 

She shrugged, going serious. “To get out of here, I guess.” 

“Why?” 

Another shrug. “Ever heard of a successful person from Flagstaff, Arizona?” 

Harry bit back a smile. “I’ve never even heard of Flagstaff, Arizona.” 

She scoffed, mocking hurt, and said, “Well, not all of us can be from big cities, superstar.” 

“I’m from Cheshire,” Harry told her. “Not exactly a big city.” 

“Why aren’t you still in Cheshire, huh?” 

“‘cause of a TV show.” 

Olivia laughed. “Jesus Christ.” 

“And I wanted to get out.” 

She nodded. “There you have it.” A quick pause, and then, “Ever have a pet?” 

Harry blinked, startled by the topic change. “Er - yeah. Yeah, a dog, and a hamster.” 

“What’re their names?” 

Harry blushed slightly. “Max.” 

Olivia glanced at him, a brow raised. “And?” she prodded. 

He looked at his beer. “Hamster,” he said. 

She didn’t say anything, and Harry looked up. 

“Please tell me your hamster was named Max,” she said, sounding deadly serious.

“What?” 

“Harry Styles,” she said slowly, “if you named your hamster ‘Hamster,’ I think I might push you off this cliff.” Harry smiled sheepishly. “My dog’s name was Max,” he admitted, and she burst out laughing, tipping so far forward Harry winced and hovered a hand behind her shoulder. 

“Christ, Liv, be careful,” he murmured. 

“Oh my God,” she said, breathless from laughter. “I love you.” 

Harry raised an eyebrow, smiling despite himself. “Movin’ a little fast there, hm?” 

She grinned. “I have a confession.” 

“Bloody hell, speed of light.” 

“I named my rabbit ‘Rabbit’,” she said. 

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “We’re meant for each other, Liv.” 

“I know!” Another quick pause, and then, “Where’s the best place you’ve ever been?” 

“Here,” Harry answered immediately, and then blushed, because it was true. 

“Oh, please,” Olivia said, apparently not realizing he wasn’t joking. “Seriously. You’re a superstar, right? So, you’ve been, like, everywhere.” Harry shrugged. “I dunno. Where’s the best place you’ve been?” 

“The Burrito Palace on Route 66, Styles,” she replied dryly. “I’ve never been out of the state.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Where would you want to go?” he asked. “If you could go anywhere, completely free of all costs.” 

“Switzerland.” 

“Really?” 

She shrugged. “I dunno. I like chocolate. And watches. And cold. It’s freakin’ hot here. I guess Paris,” she said, glancing at him with another shrug, “or London, or whatever, but London’s rainy and Paris… It’s so… It has such a reputation, you know? Like, I’m scared it’s not gonna live up to how amazing it is. Rather be impressed than disappointed, you know?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. I get that.” 

“Where would you want to go?” she asked. 

Harry paused. “The Burrito Palace on Route 66.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Olivia said. 

“No, really,” Harry said back, “I haven’t had a proper burrito in ages.” 

“You’ve gotta come back,” she told him, smiling just slightly, “so we can go.” 

“Or you can come to me,” Harry said, “and we can get burritos in Switzerland.” He paused, thinking, and then added, “You’ve got to open for us again, Liv. Really. Can you imagine? You can be our opening act over tour, get some steam, and go out on your own.” He grinned, nudging her. “Then I can open for you.” 

She sighed. “Can you imagine,” she murmured. 

There was a beat of silence, and she looked up at him again. 

“Do you ever want to go solo?” she asked. 

Harry shrugged. “Nah. Not really.” He frowned. “I mean, I guess, but not… now. I can’t, anyway - there’s a contract, obviously, but maybe when it’s over or summat.” Olivia nodded. “Right,” she murmured. 

And then she spun around, slipping off the railing and onto the platform. “I forgot about this,” she said, pulling a blanket out of the backpack. She sat down on it, legs crossed, and Harry sat next to her. 

“How often do you do this?” he asked. 

Olivia shrugged. “Often.” She grinned, elbowing him lightly, and added, “Not often with such a handsome guy, though.” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you say to all the lads?” She laughed, shaking her head. “Swear to God, Styles, you’re the first.” 

“Right, right.” 

“How ‘bout you?” she asked after another beat of silence. “How often do you do this?” 

Harry raised a brow. “What, how often do I go to the Grand Canyon? I live in -” 

“No, no,” Olivia interrupted. “How often do you go out with pretty girls after shows?” 

He grinned. “Never with one so humble.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Olivia laughed. “You know what I mean.” 

Harry shrugged. “Pretty often. Never had as much fun as I am now, though.” 

“Aww,” Olivia cooed. “You charmer.” 

“That’s what they say.” 

“Ever wish you weren’t famous?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah. ‘course. Grass is always greener, you know?” 

“Are you one of those picket fence people?” she asked. 

“Hm?” 

“Are you one of those people who, like, wants to get a nice brick house in the suburbs with white picket fences and a perfect garden with a nice wife named Jenny and have exactly one fluffy golden retriever and approximately 2.5 kids?”

Harry laughed, shrugging slightly. “I don’t know… I think…” He sighed, fading off, and then thought, and repeated, “I don’t know. Not really. I think I’d get bored, you know?” Olivia nodded. “I know,” she said, and Harry got the feeling that she really did, in fact, know. 

“How ‘bout you?” he asked. 

She shrugged. “Maybe. But… you’re right - it’d get boring, wouldn’t it? So I guess… in, like, fifty years or something I might like the picket fences.” She sighed. “I just feel like the world… it loves to wait, you know? Like, the world’s happy waiting. It’s - what, 4 billion years old? It can spare the wait. But we - I - can’t. We don’t live that long, you know? And I feel like the picket fences are… well, waiting. It’s waiting for the world to come and get you. It’s waiting for the world to come and open your picket fence and knock on your wooden door and come and take you to your adventure.” 

Harry felt himself smile. He forgot to answer, and she glanced at him, a bit of a blush on her cheeks. “Sorry,” she said. “I got carried away.” Harry’s brows jumped. “No! No, no, no, I completely agree. You’re - you’re so right.” 

She grinned. “I know,” she said, and then she shifted, lying on her back to gaze at the sky. “Can you see stars in LA?” she asked quietly. Harry looked up, craning his neck, and then gave up and lay down next to her. 

The stars were breathtaking. He could practically see constellations, stars dotting the sky like flowers in a field of indigo-blue grass. The air was almost still, just breezy enough to keep it from being too hot, the moon bright and bold in the sky. 

It was one of those things he didn’t think he’d believe if he didn’t see it for himself. He’d have called any picture of the sky photoshopped, any description of the feeling he was experiencing exaggerated or completely made up. 

But there he was. 

“No,” he answered Olivia. “No, you can’t see stars like this in LA.” 

“Maybe you should stay here, then,” Olivia whispered. 

Harry felt her head on his shoulder. 

“We can look at stars and never get bored together,” she said, and she yawned. 

“Together,” Harry echoed softly, but Olivia was already asleep. 

**********

Two weeks. 

Two more weeks of shows, and One Direction would officially be on hiatus. 

Harry stared at the ceiling of his hotel room, watching the ceiling fan spin round, and thought about what he’d do for the rest of his life. The sleepless nights had begun in Melbourne, and he’d carried the semi-heavy feeling through Paris and Rome and now here he was, still sleepless, in England. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Arizona. 

More specifically, a conversation he’d had in Arizona, about the future and picket fences and 2.5 children and getting bored. He thought about buying a house. He thought about buying a restaurant. He thought about going to Switzerland and becoming a recluse and seeing nobody but his mum and sister for the rest of time. 

He also thought about continuing his career. He thought about writing songs, about picking up the guitar, about touring the world but this time on his own. He thought about the instrumental band he’d need for such touring, and he thought about the members of said band and whether or not a certain Arizonian would consider touring the world “boring.” He wondered if he’d get to Switzerland on this grand tour of his. 

Harry sighed and turned onto his side and tried to fall asleep. 

It didn’t work. 

Instead, a melody snuck into his head, and he got up and wrote a song. 

**********

In 2015, Harry styles wrote a song. It was called Canyon Moon. 

A bit on the nose, but only if you knew what you were looking for. 

He didn’t sing it. Not yet. He saved it for an album he was working on. 

He’d based it on a night he’d had in Arizona, in the United States, a few years before. 

It was after a small show he’d done with the boys, in Flagstaff. 

It was, unsurprisingly, about a magical night, spent under a canyon moon. 

**********

la fin 💜

hope you liked it!!!!! if you liked it, a reblog and some feedback would be v much appreciated <3 thanks for reading!!!

if you want to read more about Olivia and Harry, click here!

and if you like what you see, you can find my masterlist here!

[thistlepath]

stuff about Aggy

this is for that meme i rebloged a bit ago, i was asked to answer “all of them” for a character of my choice. this is gonna be kinda long.

What is your OC’s favorite color?

Dark purple :3

Does your OC collect anything? What do they collect?

No, he’s not very materialistic and hasn’t had much of a chance to collect anything anyway.

What kind of things is your OC allergic to?

As a Carlec he’s automatically incapable of eating plants or dairy without getting really, really sick if that counts.

What kind of clothing does your OC wear?

Basically pink pygamas and a cape, that’s just how Carlec dress.

What is your OC’s first memory?

A vague memory of some kid being annoying and him scratching their face way back when he was about 7 or 8.

What’s your OC’s favorite animal? Least favorite?

Favorite: their version of turtles, he thinks they’re cute and they like to eat his /least/ favorite animals.

Least favorite: it’s a tie between a type of fish that enjoys trying to eat kids that fall into rivers and a type of beetle that enjoys trying to eat dead, dying, and/or injured unconscious critters and people.

What element would your OC be?

Fire, i think. He can be destructive and horrifying, but also helpful and fun :D

What is your OC’s theme song?

Hmm… there are a lot of them XD

maybe i’ll post a list later.

Do you have a voiceclaim for your OC?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D5m_W31hDeU

He’s jeremy.

What deadly sin would best represent your OC?

Wrath. Definitely wrath.

What are your OC’s hobbies?

He likes to make dye, dance, and rip the legs off of beetles :3

How patient is your OC? How hot-headed are they?

That depends, most of the time he’s /incredibly/ hot-headed, like murderer levels of hot-headed, but if he really, /really/ likes you he’s incredibly patient and understanding.

What is your OC’s gender / sexuality / race / species / etc.?

male. weird Carlec sexuality that most resembles a combo of bisexuality/pollyamory (i don’t know all the different sexualities and such, if there’s a name for that i’d be happy to hear it) but is basically the Carlec version of being straight. mountain/marsh Carlec :3

What foods does your OC like to eat? What are their least favorite foods?

He likes to eat beetles and large, winged insects. If you only count food he can eat safely, his least favorite food is turtle. They’re too cute to eat and he doesn’t like breaking their shells.

If your OC could have any pet, what would they choose? Why?

Probably a turtle, though an Alvean bird would also be pretty cool!

What does your OC smell like?

At the very beginning of the story: dried blood, mildew, and an odd acidic smell that builds up on Carlec when they’re unhealthy.

After a while of being outside and a nice change of clothes: dead leaves, dirt, and just a hint of blood.

How do they make a living? What kind of job do they want / not want? What is their dream job? What do they think of their current job?

Currently he doesn’t, he’s working to get his /freedom/ back, he isn’t getting paid. He wants to be a dye-maker like his mom once all of this is over, it’s been his goal since he was little. He /really/ doesn’t want anything to do with mining, he’s spent long enough trapped without sunlight and warmth, thank you very much. He also doesn’t want to be a hunter.

His current job is basically escorting an idiot and an old lady from point A to point B without them getting murdered, it’s fun when he gets to threaten people or fight wolves, but it’s mostly just walking around (at first.)

What are your OC’s greatest fears? Weaknesses? Strengths?

Hmm. the Carlec have this idea where you basically have to /earn/ having a soul, and doing stuff that makes their deity upset with them starts to slowly destroy their soul. Murder is one of the things that makes her angry, and he keeps getting put in situations where he basically /has/ to kill people. He’s terrified that by the time he dies he’ll be so far gone that he’ll just disappear. It doesn’t help that he’s almost entirely sure that if he /doesn’t/ fade away he’ll end up as some kind of ghost.

He also has a fear of deep, fast water :3

What kind of music do they listen to? Do they have a favorite song?

Carlec music is nothing like any human music i’ve ever heard, so it’s a bit hard to pick out different styles and such. He likes happy music being sung by groups, which sounds a bit like if you crossed a choir, a barbershop quartet, a bunch of purring, mewling cats, and a bunch of little birds together and had them sing pop songs.

If they came from their world to ours (if not already in our’s) how would they react? What would they do?

He’d be absolutely terrified. Our world is incredibly foreign to him and i seriously doubt people would have a very positive reaction to him. Plus, unless he ended up somewhere really warm and humid he’d likely get sick pretty quickly. He’d find some place to hide and then stay there, to scared to come out for anything but food.

What personal problems/issues do they have? Pet peeves?

Well. he just got out of prison and now has to babysit an insensitive, ignorant Alvean and a grumpy old lady, he’s convinced that he’s missing a chunk of his soul, his dad died while he was away and he didn’t have a chance to say goodbye, he’s constantly anxious and lashes out at people violently when startled, he feels incredibly uncomfortable in the center of attention but also feels like he has to be the most intimidating, loud person in a room to feel safe… the list just goes on.

He really doesn’t like being interrupted or asked stupid questions.

What kind of student were they/would they be in high school?

If the teacher was nice he’d be incredibly respectful and work very hard to do well. if they were a jerk (or he saw them as one) he’d be a rebellious little monster, seeming to do everything in his power to either get them fired or get himself kicked out of the class.

What is a random fact about your OC?

He wears his cape over his right shoulder to hide the lack of spines on his upper arm. He’s asymmetrical, something that isn’t too uncommon when Mountain and Marsh Carlec mix, but that’s still incredibly uncommon in the general population. He was teased for it as a kid and is still insecure about it.

What is their outlook on life? What is their philosophy / what do they think in general about living?

He tries to be optimistic, but a life of bad luck and being treated like garbage has kinda made that hard.

What inspired you to create them / how did you create them? Were they originally a fancharacter? What was their personality / design like when you first made them?

I was bored one day and ended up coming up with a scene of a token-evil teammate finding out their mom was super sick and trying to hide their panic and sadness from their team because their merciless, sadistic reputation needs to be upheld, dang it! And i wanted to draw it. I used a random generator to get the basic idea of what the Carlec look like (slender, delicate build..same height as the average human..reddish/grayish brown skin..muted black hair..very large ears..giraffe-like spots on arms and legs..large, brown/red eyes..colorful, modest clothing.) and made a ton of potential designs for him before eventually settling on one that’s very similar to how he looks now, just with smaller ears, more spots, slightly different hair, and a slightly different face shape. I never ended up drawing that scene, but i decided to keep him anyway. His personality started out as a manipulative, sadistic, just about irredeemable monster with the redeeming qualities of “he loves his parents” and “he /eventually/ cares about his teammates.”

Who is the most important person in their life? Why? Who is the least important to them (that still has an impact and why?

His mom. After the events that caused his issues she was the only person who really stuck with him. His village decided he was possessed and thus dangerous, his dad disapproved very vocally of his decision to become a maker instead of continuing his training as a hunter, and his best friend/fiancée eventually betrayed him. His mom never stopped supporting him and believing that he could get better.

Hmm. Aggy’s weird in that once he cares about you he /doesn’t stop caring/ no matter what you do, so i don’t know if his friend can be counted here? If so, then definitely her. She was one of two actually good things in his life, then she had him sent to a human prison for murdering a pair of assassins. That place was absolutely /horrible/ and it was probably the worst thing that could’ve been done for his mental health.

If she doesn’t count, then probably the first prisoner he ended up killing while in prison. That idiot trying to kill him is what set him firmly on the path towards what he is today, if that hadn’t happened the queen probably would have had him released years ago.

What kind of childhood did your character have?

A not very nice one. Way too much being treated like some kind of monster, too much of his parents arguing about him, too many former friends avoiding him, too many injuries, and nowhere near enough support, love and guidance.

What kind of nervous habits do they have? Do they stim? Do they have any kinds of addictions?

When he’s nervous he tends to swish his tail back and forth like an angry cat, and also often bites and chews on things when they’re available.

If those count, then i suppose so? I don’t know a whole lot about the subject.

Not at the moment, but he used to have a bit of one to this special drink the Carlec have at parties. It makes people more energetic and cheerful, then incredibly tired as soon as it wears off. The Carlec have a lot of parties, so most have at least a bit of an addiction to the stuff.

If they could choose their epitaph for their grave, what would they choose?

Hmm. he’d just have somebody else chose it if he could, but if he absolutely had to choose it’d be something along the lines of “i promise i won’t haunt you guys. Probably. I’ll have to think about it.”

Do they want to get married? Why or why not? Would they ever want kids? Do they have kids? Why?

No. he’s pretty much done with romance after what happened with his Ex. there’s a chance that someone could change his mind with enough time, but it’s gonna be difficult.

He’s not sure about having kids, but he doesn’t think there’s much chance of it anyway if he never gets married.

What is their most traumatic memory/experience? What is their favorite memory?

Most traumatic memory: his entire village turning on him and his best friend in the whole world not only not defending him, but making sure he gets punished even more harshly than he would’ve otherwise.

Favorite memory: this one’s more vague, it’s stuff that happened almost every day and kinda blurred together, but it was all equally amazing as far as he’s concerned. Waking up every morning, warm and safe in his comfortable, cozy home. Spending several hours making dye with his mother and laughing with her about how it had somehow gotten all over their hands and faces while his dad went out hunting. All the little things that he had to go without for so long.

If they could have one thing in the world, what would it be?

Freedom, of course.

Would they ever kill someone? What would someone have to do to push them to kill someone? If they would kill someone, why?

Hahahahahahahaha

Aggy’s got this thing, it happens sometimes to Carlec who’ve been through something traumatic, where he’s constantly on edge and automatically reacts to perceived threats with violence. It’s incredibly difficult to keep under control, and even when it is it often just builds up until they eventually snap and get even more violent than they would have otherwise. In serious cases the Carlec will seem more like a feral animal than a person, luckily Aggy doesn’t have it that bad but if things continue the way they have he’s gonna get there within a few years.

What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

He used to love helping with the music for parties, he’d play bells and sing.

How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

His imagination is a bit caught up with imagining horrible situations he could end up in, potential escape routes for every room he enters, and stupid nicknames for everyone he meets.

What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

To go home and be happy. That’s his main goal at all times, ‘make sure this goes well so i can go home’, ‘save [insert person here] so i can redeem myself so i can be happy’ etc.

He needs to hurt critters and fight people and kill things. He gets super anxious all the time, and that’s the one thing he’s found that helps him calm down.

He’s willing to do a whole lot of things. He won’t hurt anyone he cares about, and he’d prefer not to die, but other than that he’s pretty much gonna do anything to get what he wants.

What’s something that your character does, that other people don’t normally do?

Well.

He eats his food raw. He kills people. He torments small creatures. There’s a lot of stuff he does that most people wouldn’t.

What would your character do with a million dollars?

Use it to try to free one of his old prison-friends and then give him whatever’s left. Carlec don’t really use money.

What is in your characters refrigerator right now? On their bedroom floor? Nightstand? Garbage can?

He’s currently homeless and has no possessions other than the clothes on his back and a knife.

Your character is getting ready for a night out. Where are they going? What do they wear? Who will they be with?

Well, if he’s free to have a night out in the first place he’s probably home, so most likely some kind of party, his party outfit, and either his team or his parents. He doesn’t have many friends :D

What does your character do when they’re angry? Why?

Attack things. Make things hurt. Cause whatever pain he can in whatever made him angry. It makes him feel somewhat better.

Does your character have any scars? Where did they get them from?

Not really, it’s hard to scratch a Carlec through their scales, and it takes a lot of damage for an injury to show through them after it’s healed. If he were human he’d have scars all over from fights, running through dense forest, falling in a river and nearly dying as a kid, etc.

What was the most offensive thing your character had ever said?

Oh, that’s hard. Aggy loves to offend people, it’s one of his favorite hobbies.

How does your character react/ accept criticism?

That depends on both what’s being criticized and how the criticism is given. It could be anything from quickly accepting it and asking for advice to /literally/ killing you.

If your character was given a slice of pineapple pizza and they HAD to eat it (or something bad would happen), how would they react? Do they even LIKE pineapple pizza?

Well. almost literally /nothing/ on pineapple pizza is edible for him, so he’d react pretty badly. Whatever this ‘something bad’ is has to be pretty bad. He’d eat it, but would clearly hate every second of it and would get really, really sick afterwards.

Your character is given a voodoo doll of themself. What do they do with it? Do they see if it actually works?

He would immediately believe it was real and quickly hide it in the safest place he can possibly find.

Can your character draw? What do they like to draw? Do they doodle?

Not really, he could probably make little stick-figures, but that’s about it.

What were their parents like? How has that affected how they are as an adult?

Evr, Aggy’s mom, was very loving, supportive and comforting, she was his mentor and primary source of advice, help and positive social interaction.

Kven, his dad, started out the same. Unfortunately Aggy becoming ‘possessed,’ deciding to be a Maker despite clearly being a natural Hunter (that’s a huge deal to a lot of Carlec), and losing his cheerful, friendly attitude kinda messed up their relationship. He was usually either angry at him or ignoring him.

He doesn’t know Rili or Tin very well, they married his mom about two years after he was kicked out.

Does your character like candy? Do they get sugar rushes? What are they like when they get a rush?

The closest thing to candy the Carlec have is this super sweet nectar that they make into drinks or soak meat in, and it’s literally made to give anybody/anything that drinks it a sugar rush. When Aggy drinks it he gets even more jumpy than usual, but also super giggly so it seems like he’s having fun?

If your character was presented with imminent and unavoidable death/fatality, how would they react? Would they try to avoid death anyways? Would they try to make their last days count?

He’d be horrified and depressed, this means that he won’t get his chance at redemption or see his family again. He’d do everything he could to both prevent/delay his death and get home as soon as possible, desperate to see Evr again and at least say goodbye.

[vvolfies]

HARRY STYLES - WOLFGANG BECK currently plays FINIAN in LOVELY EQUALS on Bridge Broadcasting! I swear, they’re TWENTY-THREE and they’ve already done so much within the business. They’re often described as the YOUNG GUN by the paparazzi who follows them around, because they’re apparently +AMBITIOUS and -JADED. Though, that’s just paparazzi talk. Who knows if it’s true? All I know is that they go by HE/HIM and they’re on my favorite show. ( BRITT, 24, EST, SHE/HER )

hello pals wolfie & i are back for round two!! as before, feel free to message me if you’d like to plot. he’s the same old guy but i’d love some new connections for him!! without further ado, below is some info about him~

wolfgang beck is his full name but please feel free to call him wolfie or wolf because most of his friends and family do!! he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth & a fortune to his name, the son of a rock legend & a playboy bunny turned supermodel

his dad is german & his mom is hungarian but he was raised in manchester & moved to l.a. when he was a teenager to pursue his career in music. his parents are both large influences in his life but he had a pretty atypical childhood. his mother was in her early twenties when he was born and his father already in his mid thirties, so with give or take 13 years between them they both had very different aspirations

both very career driven as well, so quite often one or the other was away for months at a time and on some occasions both were away. he learned to entertain himself though, messing around with his dad’s instruments and going for joy-rides in their expensive cars. very much a spoiled rich kid

can’t complain much about his upbringing besides being in the front-row seat to watch his parents’ marriage slowly burn to the ground. his mother wanted her freedom and his father longed for companionship, which lead to cheating on both parts & lots of very public fighting and battling for custody. his father won in the end

it’s not hard to see where wolfie gets his bitter outlook on love!! he avoided it at all costs until the age of nineteen when he fell for tyson which lasted a whole three years before it, too, fell to pieces in jan/feb of 2017. basically reinforced his ideology that love is bullshit

wolf is very versatile musically!! picked up the skill from a very very young age and gained quick recognition through his surname. started out writing songs for some well-known artists of the time and by fifteen had his very own single on the charts. music is in his blood, so to speak, so nobody was really surprised

he has been in the spotlight since, releasing music pretty much non-stop, released several albums, has toured the world and won awards for his music!! his music can be described as pop rock, his voice is definitely a lot like harry’s & some of his more recent music is pretty similar to his solo work. but he’s definitely released some more mainstream songs as well, that’s probably how he started out

he’s basically a spitting image of his dad. looks a lot like him when he was young and his attitude reflects him as well. he’s constantly compared to him because of it which is fine & dandy but his dad has pretty big shoes to fill and he often feels like he’s expected to follow in his footsteps which is a lot of pressure. the media likes to portray him as his dad was at his age, a playboy & a party animal and it works for his image so he doesn’t mind

he does party a lot!! but obviously he’s not really a playboy. a flirt yes. uses sex appeal to his advantage mayhaps. playboy no. a lot of people also expect him to make the same mistakes as his dad and fail in love/ cheat, etc, so it’s basically like everyone is waiting on him to screw up and that’s made him almost expect himself to as well. 

despite being a bougie bitch he is humble. appreciative of everything he’s earned and very good to his fans. involved in charity work, likes to share the wealth. he doesn’t need the money so it’s not about that for him, he has a genuine passion for his career. doesn’t think he’s better than anyone

aesthetically he is Tol. 6 feet of tatted glory. very in shape, likes to work out & takes care of his body (besides the smoking/drugs/drinking but you only live once am i rite). he’s current harry with the short hair, definitely had long hair at one point but recently did the snip snip because it was time for a change and he’s on tv now. 

has taken a few pages from his mama’s book as well, is very into his appearance (kinda cocky ngl), has expensive taste and an eccentric sense of fashion-- is not afraid to stand out!! that being said, he takes criticism personally and takes it hard. when it comes to his personal life, he is a lot more private and almost tries to blend in. wants to be liked and his work to be taken seriously!! very contradictory i know but fashion is how he expresses himself

he realized he was into men as well as women quite early in his life but never voiced it publicly in fear of it ruining his career and upon being given some advice by others in the industry. so he probably just experimented a little bit behind closed doors with someone he trusted but for the most part his sexual and romantic life outside of his relationship has revolved around women.

UNFORTUNATELY he was outed when a “reliable source” snitched about him and his boyfriend at the time to the press!! so that was that and months of damage control ( and a pr girlfriend ) later here he is just barely living to tell the tale

anyways he decided to take a brief hiatus from music & la to pursue acting in england which he’s enjoying so far. definitely not planning to make a switch over or anything, he just wanted to mix things up and try something new. plans to start working on new music by the end of this year

that’s it that’s all you know where to find me if you’d like to fill any of his wanted connections, which are as follows:

best friend

childhood friend, could have drifted or remained close

friends with benefits

first kiss/relationship/hook-up

wing man/woman- basically they go out together to party & hook up

an unrequited past crush (can work either way)

exes that decided they were better off being friends

a friend that got cut from his life under speculation they could have leaked the info about his relationship?

someone in the music industry he can jam with

past pr girlfriend