#bc he delivered each line so perfectly

[diamonddaze01]

tarararara my love! for your drabble game i wanna do prompt no. 6 but with a twist-

Do you like me? Check yes or yes

the ball is in your court now bub!

do you like me?

pairing: wonwoo x reader, law school au | wc: 944 prompt: "Do you like me? check yes or yes" | warnings: none a/n: dedicated to both @svtiddiess and @tusswrites bc the greatest minds think alike

The library was quieter than usual, the usual hum of stressed-out law students replaced by the rhythmic scratching of pens and flipping of pages. You and Jeon Wonwoo had somehow claimed a table near the window—a rare truce in the ongoing cold war of your academic rivalry.

You weren’t entirely sure how it started. Maybe it was the time he answered a question in Contracts class before you could, perfectly articulating the rule of consideration in a way that had the professor beaming. Or maybe it was the time you aced your Civil Procedure exam, and he shot you that unreadable glance as he exited the lecture hall, his graded paper tucked discreetly under his arm. Somewhere along the line, though, it became a thing: Jeon Wonwoo vs. You.

You were loud, unabashed, and utterly relentless in debates. Wonwoo? Quiet, methodical, and terrifyingly sharp. It was as though the universe had handpicked you to be polar opposites, with one mutual goal: finishing top of the class.

It wasn’t just about ego—though you’d never admit how much satisfaction you felt when you won. For you, being at the top meant proving that your voice mattered, that you could command a room even in the cutthroat world of law. For him, you suspected it was different. Wonwoo worked with a quiet precision that seemed to come from something deeper, something you couldn’t quite place. He was impossible to read, and maybe that’s what frustrated you the most.

The rivalry only grew fiercer with time: whispered debates in the hallway after class, stolen glances at each other’s grades, the occasional sarcastic jab when you passed in the library. It had become a fixture of your law school experience.

So why were you here, sitting across from him in the library? That was another story.

It started two weeks ago, when the Professor of Legal Ethics—who clearly took pleasure in student suffering—had paired you two for a moot court assignment. The project was simple: argue a mock case against each other, with grades determined by individual performance.

You’d scoffed at the announcement. “Of course,” you muttered under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

He’d glanced at you, an amused glint in his eyes. “Don’t sound too excited.”

The idea of working with him—of watching him meticulously dismantle your arguments before you even had a chance to deliver them—should have been unbearable. But instead, you’d found yourself suggesting, “We should prep together. You know, scope out the competition.”

Wonwoo had hesitated, his lips twitching in what might have been amusement. “You’re offering to help me beat you?”

“Who said I’m helping you?” you’d shot back, grinning. “I just want to see if you’re as good as everyone says.”

Now here you were, begrudging study partners, buried under stacks of legal texts and sharing a tense but surprisingly comfortable silence. Except you couldn’t focus. Not because of the assignment—your case brief was flawless—but because of him.

Wonwoo, with his quiet determination, his maddening focus, and his infuriating ability to make your heart race with just a glance. You didn’t know when it started—when the rivalry began to feel less like competition and more like curiosity. When his sharp intelligence stopped annoying you and started fascinating you instead.

Maybe it was last week, when he had stayed late after your prep session, walking with you to the parking lot under the glow of the streetlights. The conversation had been light, easy—unexpectedly so. You’d caught him smiling, not his usual smirk but something softer, almost shy. It had lingered with you far longer than it should have.

Or maybe it was the other day, when you’d caught him lost in thought, glasses slipping down his nose as he scribbled something in the margins of his notebook. He had looked up at you then, catching you staring, and raised an eyebrow in question. You had blurted something incoherent about “legal precedents” before burying your face in your notes, your cheeks burning.

You were doomed.

Tonight wasn’t any better. He was scribbling furiously in his textbook, his pen tapping softly against the edge of the page. You should have been working on your counterarguments, but instead, you were folding a piece of notebook paper into an origami crane.

After a few moments, you slid the crane across the table to him. Wonwoo didn’t look up at first, too engrossed in his notes, but when the crane nudged his hand, he paused. His sharp eyes flicked to yours, and you gave him your best innocent smile.

He carefully unfolded the crane. Inside, in your bold handwriting, were the words: “Do you like me? Check yes or yes.” Below, you’d drawn two boxes, both labeled “yes,” along with a winking face for good measure.

Wonwoo blinked at the note, his expression unreadable. But then, his ears turned a shade of red so deep you could practically hear your heart screaming.

You stared, waiting, your pulse thundering in your ears. And then, to your surprise, he smirked.

Pulling out his pen, he checked one of the boxes. Then, with deliberate care, he tore off the bottom half of the paper, scribbled something, and slid it back to you.

You unfolded it, your chest tight with anticipation. Written in his small, neat handwriting was: “Can you quiet down now? I’m trying to focus.” Below it, he’d drawn a tiny, lopsided heart.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re impossible,” you murmured.

Wonwoo didn’t respond, but the pink flush creeping up his neck and the faint twitch of his lips told you everything you needed to know.

Somehow, the rivalry didn’t feel like a competition anymore.

send me an ask for my drabble game!

[moonstruckme]

hiii! so i’ve just recently started reading ur work and i love it sm ur amazing! so i just wanted to request smth and it’s a little random but i was wondering if you could do something with remus/james where reader gets uncomfortable around drunk ppl bc that’s how i am because of some things in the past so maybe she gets uncomfortable and he gets kinda protective? sorry that was a lot but if u don’t write this rhats perfectly fine i just wanted to say i love your work!🩷

Thanks lovely <33

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 825 words

Really, you ought to know better than to walk around this part of town on a weekend night. You’d just wanted a pint of ice cream so badly, and this is the nearest store with the kind you like. You hadn’t thought it through, how these would be the peak hours for the bars that line the majority of the street, how the sidewalks would fill with too-loud patrons laughing and stumbling about. 

It’s not that you really even feel unsafe. The area is too crowded for most of the men to try anything, and James is with you to deter anything like that anyway. It’s just…a lot. The slurred shouts, and the unpredictable movements, and the stink of vomit. 

James drifts closer to you, taking your hand to help guide you through the crowd. He knows how you feel about drunk people. Even him and his friends, who you love and know would never intentionally make you uncomfortable, feel odd to be around after they’ve been drinking. 

James glances over at you. “You good?” 

“Yeah.” You do your best to appear less tense, smiling at him. “Thanks.” 

He gives your hand a light squeeze, moving the both of you this way and that to avoid groups that have stagnated or slowed on the sidewalk. You can’t help but stare as a girl a few paces ahead of you falls onto her bum on the curb, laughing deliriously as her friends try to help her back up. There’s a group of boys in front of you with their arms linked over each other’s shoulders, open drink containers in several of their hands as they mosey down the sidewalk, singing out of tune and at seemingly different parts of the same song. If you were one of them, it would probably all seem funny and lighthearted to you, too. There’s nothing nefarious about this; they’re just people enjoying a Friday night. And still, you can’t help but feel awkward and on edge around them. 

You feel the shock of cold before you know what’s happened, freezing liquid streaming down your shirt. You gasp and flinch into James on instinct, and the drunken man follows you inadvertently, his now empty beer bottle tipped over your shoulder and his weight pressing into you as he tries to hold himself up on nonfunctioning legs. 

James’ hand skims over your upper back as he moves around to your other side, taking the guy by the shoulders and lifting him off of you. The man starts to babble angrily, but James only gives him one of his easy smiles. You’d have to really know him to be able to tell he doesn’t mean it. 

“Easy, mate,” he says, delivering the man back to his group of friends behind you. His tone changes slightly when he addresses them, still friendly but with a slightly harder edge. “Keep track of your friend, yeah?”

The group of boys says various things in the affirmative, but James has already turned away. He shepherds you over to the wall of the closest building, out of the flow of foot traffic, and puts himself between you and the people passing by. 

“Shit, sweetheart,” he says, taking off the flannel he’s wearing over his t-shirt. “He really spilled all over you. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you say, though you really are very cold now. You take James’ flannel without complaint, shrugging it on. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”  

“So fucking irresponsible,” he huffs, shaking his head as he adjusts the thick fabric to cover the wet streak down the side of your shirt. “I mean, who lets their mate get that sloppy and then walk around by themselves? I could never do that.” 

You smile at him. “I know you couldn’t, Jamie. You’re a good friend.” 

He grins back at you, taking you under his arm as you begin walking towards the store again. It looks casual, a boyfriend with his arm slung loosely over his girl’s shoulders, but you can feel the tension in his bicep as he keeps you close, maneuvering you carefully through the crowd. 

“I think those guys were just too drunk to keep track of him,” you go on. “Not everyone can have as good a friend as you.” 

James scoffs, but you don’t let him dodge the compliment. 

“I’m serious.” You bump his hip lightly. “I bet none of those guys would have given me their jacket when it was this chilly out. You’re one in a million.” 

“Great,” James says. “So now my accolades are that I don’t let my friends fall all over people when they’re drunk and I give pretty girls my jacket when they’re soaking wet in the cold.” You’re looking ahead of you, but you can hear the eye roll in his voice even as he presses a quick kiss to the side of your head. “Your bar’s frighteningly low, angel. We’re gonna have to work on that.”

[autumnleaffay]

I am struggling too much with the next chapter of The lost spirit, so have some brain rot instead!

Random Nations in health care

(based entirely on my experience)

Iceland: Uni Student (don't care if it's for nursing or art), but he does night shifts as a watch for agitated patients. For some reasons, no one can understand, his nights are always quiet. Not a single disturbance.

Finland: You would think maybe something caring like child care. No. Cardiology ICU, don't you dare mess with his lines and EKG cables!!!

Norway: forever the Nightshift. Not a single day shift in sight, put him in one and he's just a confused puppy.

Denmark: Trauma ward, broken bones? Let's go! But also very caring for the elderly after their hip replacements.

Sweden: NICU. He may be a giant but in his hands the preemies are always safe.

Switzerland: Private practice. Patients that pay out of their own pocket, just to get private rooms, special dinner, faster wait times and a news letter, but the medical care is just like on any other ward? Yep that's him.

Germany: The nursing supervisor and management. Oversees more than 10 wards but knows the shift coverage of each one perfectly.

Prussia: ER, he's the right kind of Crack head for that! Friday nights, alcohol intoxication: "Just a blood alcohol of 2,9? That's nothing Earl! Where is the 3,8 we know and love?!" (Ps, both are already very high numbers)

Lichtenstein: Med student, currently in pathology rounds and loving it...

Latvia: Med Surge. I am so sorry for him, but yeah, he would not have the heart to quit that job and just continues to work in that hell hole. Never says no to a shift change and overtime.

France: Urologists. Gets super annoyed to be woken up at 3:30 am bc another ward can't lay a catheter around the prostate hyperplasia, they've tried 5 times already. He comes, uses nearly the biggest size and sticks it in one go.

Poland: only late shifts, always gets food delivered. Seems lazy at first but is the most effective nurse you ever meet.

Sealand: Chronic heart disease, basically has become a part of the staff at this point. Helps out the nurses sometimes.

England: do you really think that I'll give a patient a lethal dose of Opioids? Think again.

America: How do I calculate IE again?! What's mg in dl again? (Most medications are always calculated with the metric system or international units)

Romania: Psychology nurse. Has done the "muffin man" meme with his patients before.

Spain: 6 am, everyone tired, doors open: HOLA CHICCAS!!!!

Portugal: always brings food on the weekend shifts

Japan: hygiene supervisor. If he enters a ward, everyone hides in patient rooms instantly.

Greece: Useless during early shifts, but a unit during the late shifts. Sleeps during night shifts.

Estonia: Got a Stanley Cup, because it's "in" sold it the same month because he usually ends up drinking from the water bottles directly.

Lithuania: Internal Medical practice. The same chaos that awaits Latvia but he's got it handled, stands up for himself.

Romano: He may not be the nicest colleague, but when you hear him talking to an elderly woman, alone and scared for her life, you understand why he is a RN.

[crazy-grrrl-on-the-computer]

Here I am back at it again with the Boueibu food analyses //bricked

I’ve been staring at the Melon Monster for years, trying to unpack what “the melon was just playing melon” and “melons are tops” meant because it’s definitely interesting wording, but nothing was coming up… until I came across a collection of articles and videos talking about the Yubari King Melon, a hybrid cantaloupe that has been specifically cultivated for its desired traits and is subsequently considered “the best melon” in Japan.

To be considered a top-grade melon, one must be perfectly round and have an exceptionally smooth rind. Upon harvest, part of the stem is left on top to add to its aesthetic appeal. [x]

Hmmmm don’t you look familiar!

As the Melon Monster alludes to, the Japanese fruit industry is an interesting rabbit hole to fall down, but this video offers a pretty good insight into the Yubari melon specifically.

According to this article, the Prince melon was developed in Japan and first sold in 1961, gaining immediate popularity in average households due to its low price. On the opposite end of the melon spectrum, the Yubari melon (developed in 1951) is exclusively grown in Yubari, Hokkaido and is so expensive it is considered a luxury fruit, which is in no small part due to its limited availability each year and sought after sweetness/aroma. Yubari melons are often given as gifts to show appreciation during the summer gift-giving season Ochugen and there are annual auctions where pairs of these melons regularly sell for millions of yen.

Furthermore, according to another article I found, the history of melons in Japan goes all the way back to the Makuwa (oriental melon), which Uriya gets his name from and which allegedly came to Japan during the Yayoi period (3rd century BC to 3rd century) via China. How prestigious! That certainly explains the choice of costume and no wonder the poor Melon Monster remarks that his existence is anachronistic when told by his peers that melon is just another fruit nowadays!

Here he is, trying his best to be a Yubari melon, cherry-picking what he thinks are his best and most interesting traits in an attempt to meet the expectations of others around him as someone with value, and the Battle Lovers immediately curb stomp every single one of his efforts by not only outsmarting him in the most effortless way possible (using the internet to solve his riddles and surviving his traps as though they were a children's obstacle course) but mistaking him for a common melon. The melon (Makuwa) was only playing melon… playing at something he could never hope to be… pretending that anyone could ever see value in him. But he is only an ordinary melon, so why would anyone go the extra mile for that?

[With this in mind, I feel like this monster must have sprung into existence as a result of a conversation about the popularity of melons similar to the origin of the Chikuwabu Monster (many thanks again to @intra-fiducia for the wonderful translations!! <3). XD]

On a side note, I wrote briefly about the paulownia box being a representation of how Uriya is trapped by his own anxieties and self-consciousness in his attempt to meet everyone’s expectations, but I didn’t realize that sometimes the gift of melon is delivered very cutely in one. So there’s an extra layer to that line about no longer needing to stay in one! Melon can be enjoyed in many forms and varieties, like the Battle Lovers said! He doesn’t have to be the best because the people who like melon pan, melon soda, and shaved ice will like him just the same for what he already is.

[rocinantescoffeestop]

[pjo series thoughts - spoilers ep. 1]

First note is a biggie: When Sally starts describing the story of Perseus in the museum, I had to pause. It starts with Perseus and his mother thrown into a box and cast out to sea, to be forgotten about, to die basically. It made me think about how Sally and Percy basically grew up alone, how that situation mirrors Perseus in the myths, and the fact that in the myths the mother-son pair were 'surrounded by sea' (the exact words Sally uses to tell the story, btw) just adds to the parallel.

In the books, Sally describes Poseidon essentially going to the sea and never coming back. In the show, we meet her properly at the apartment and she's standing in the rain, surrounded by water. In short, the 'surrounded by' part of that story is equivalent to 'being shaped by'. Their lives – both Sally-Percy and Perseus and his mom in the myths – had a large part of their lives determined by Poseidon, determined by the sea.

——

• Bobofit? just makes me think of Boba Fett and now I'm picturing Nancy fanart as a star wars clone XD

• Eddie the Super is a bro in this adaptation. I agree with what I've heard some other folks saying around these fandom parts, I like this change from Eddie being one of the poker buddies to being at odds with Gabe, too.

• Sally Jackson listening to 'logical' by Olivia Rodrigo. Sally Jackson being an Olivia fan!!!!

• Gabe and Sally's relationship here... it's not good sure, but in this adaptation, I can see sort of how they could have started, maybe at first it not being about 'protecting Percy', as they sort of have a banter here that doesn't just seem like a watered-down/kid-friendly version of a dysfunctional marriage but also like the remnants of some sort of clicking. Of course, I want to believe that Gabe is still an awful human being, and yeah, the show portrays that he's a slum, a verbal dick towards everyone in his life, has abusive habits like checking Sally's phone without permission, so I still don't like him here. But, there's a difference between series!Gabe and book!Gabe in which book!Gabe was just painted as cut and dry, black and white awful, like the worlds slimiest, grimiest old fool. Maybe it's the act of seeing it instead of reading about it since in the book we ARE the narrator – a twelve-year-old boy with a limited worldview and seeing things more as cut-dry/black-white – and here we're more on the outside looking in, so we can approach the world with a more objective viewpoint, and see details not as 'good' or 'bad' but as just details. Just something like 'life just be like that sometimes' kind of way.

• 'Like a puzzle with have the wrong pieces' hit home for me. Also, describing Percy's attention slips through the mist as 'daydreaming' is such a good way to relate ADHD to his demigodness. I like how the series described Percy's mind and disabilities better so far than the books.

• 'Something that felt real to you that no one else can see?' The way Sally delivers this line... UGH so good at being very subtle in suggesting that she can relate to Percy personally here, hinting at her ability to see through the mist as well despite being 100% mortal. Or maybe that's just me knowing things revealed later in the series and subplanting that onto the now.

• It's hard explaining greek gods being real to your son. LOL undercut perfectly with Walker's comedy ("like– like Jesus?"). Also, Walker's acting? 10/10

• putting Percy and Grover at odds in the series just like in the books but each do it differently – in the books, Percy ditches Grover bc he's acting weird and it's stressing Percy out. In the series, Grover is the one that does the dirty deed and makes sure Percy gets expelled from Yancy. Either case, they both put tension in the relationship (to be repaired later in the narrative). So, before you say anything bad about the differences between book and series, think about the emotional part of it. The series speaks to the HEART of the scene, of the story, even if it's not a word-for-word retelling with visuals.

• "He is brutal, he is relentless, he–" "He is still wearing underpants." Classic Percy comedy akdjfhgklsjdfg I'm in love

• Sally setting Grover up for his emotional journey on the quest by making him swear to protect Percy against all monsters/threats that come his way.

• Oh god, it's even more heartwrenching the second time watching Percy watch his mom "die" – the silence that encompasses the moment, all sounds drowning away, the rain so crystal clear on his face, and his eyes... god. so good.

• I love the last scene. The campers' voices coming out of the blackness, the blackness fading into a hazy purple sunset as Percy's vision come to. Annabeth's voice saying "he must be the one,' as she so wants him to be the one that will bring her along on a quest. just the way the framing lands at the end, with the subtle movement of camper silhouettes shifting away and Chiron front and centre, welcoming Percy (and thus the audience) into the world (into the series). Such a good introduction. So, so good.

[mrsnancywheeler]

OMG billy dunne renaissance? I used to pray for times like this🙏

Ofc I have to bring up Miss Swift everytime, but ur blurbs about him def remind me of Is It Over Now?

But specifically these lyrics:

“You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. You search in every model’s bed for something greater”

“And did you think I didn't see you? There were flashing lights, at least I had the decency to keep my nights out of sight. Only rumors 'bout my hips and thighs and my whispered sighs. Oh, Lord, I think about jumping off of very tall somethings just to see you come running and say the one thing I've been wanting. But no.”

OOO and (spoilers if anyone else hasn’t seen the show) about your blurb about eddie pining for her, if she pulls a camila and actually sleeps with him bc she’s hurting abt billy, this line would actually hit:

“Baby, was it over when she laid down on your couch?Was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse?”

But also!☝️There is another blondie who’s songs i think fit perfectly. Miss Sabrina Carpenter 😌 Specially Tornado Warnings, Vicious, How Many Things, and Read Your Mind!! Ahh so good!

“Don't understand how quickly we get right back in our rhythm without missing a step. And logically, the last thing I should have on my mind, but I want you there sometimes. I guess maybe that's why I'm lying to my therapist. I keep saying things like, ‘I never saw him and we never kissed.’”

“You don't feel remorse, you don't feel the effects. 'Cause you don't think you hurt me if you wish me the best. I shoulda known all along, I was only the next one to take your love songs as a promise.” !!!!!!!!!!!!

“I consider you, I'm not trying to. It doesn't matter whether not I want to. I can't help it, it's a habit. Your corner in my mind is well established”

“You say that you need to be alone, but night and day, want me at your beck and call. You say you know that you might be crossin' the line. Wastin' all our time. To think that we could be casual. You're not my friend and, baby, you never were. Why the fuss? If you say you just wanna be mine. I can't read your mind”

But yeah HAHA thank you for feeding us billy dunne content <3

-🦅

I'm here to deliver times like this 💋

yes I agree they are serving major is it over now? except it's ever really over

she's an attacker, she does not mince words about how she feels in the moment and is attacking full force, if he's a lying traitor she's saying it, but on the flip side she's also the type to always tell him how good he's doing, soft kisses, adoration at the best of times. and he's always got more groupies lined up, but none of them compare. and the media tearing her apart as the younger girlfriend of billy dunne who has nothing else except a rich dad and famous boyfriend to her name.

I totally believe she slept with eddie at least once and felt terrible about it because she feels like she's betrayed billy even though it was during one of their off periods and he constantly cheats on her. at first it wasn't necessarily sleeping with others, but I think coming up to the final full breakdown it becomes that and she can't take it anymore. but it just makes eddie pine for her more.

yes yes yes my girl sabrina

her and billy have venomous fights where he breaks her down and she tries to bite back, but then the moment he calls or shows up or she is suddenly at a rehearsal they're acting like nothing happened. seamlessly back to being in each other's arms, kisses, laughter, leading up to ofc another meltdown.

and billy never apologizes, not until after rehab and everything, but usually it's just songs and acting like nothing wrong happened at all. and he's not consciously trying to hurt her, but he is.

and she can't stop thinking about him and be can't not think about her. she can try to move on but it'll always be billy and he can say there are others, but he'll always end up wanting her instead.

and the way he calls her his girl but won't actually put a label on it and always says she's not special when he's upset. he also expects her to always be around for him and gets pissy when she's not even though he won't say that they're really really together. and it's so fucking confusing for her.

ofc pookie ❤️❤️❤️

[guangchuans]

hey adam what did you think of the metamorph concert? oh funny you should ask! here :3

hi guys. i’ll pretend i know staging directing and anything more about music than “i like sounds” here 👍

first, critique:

the concert felt and was rather short. i understand why, but it was still sad to had it end so soon lol

my personal opinion here: i wish we got more older songs other than the iconic ones, but again, this is the guilty album concert, so i understand

he really did not do well on “not over you” and i’m glad he acknowledged it too, not just moving past a subpar performance

“want” also wasn’t the nicest imo? he sang that weirdly low, or at least that’s what i heard

maybe again, just my audio, but it really didn’t sound as if he actually Sung “advice” lol

this one i’ve said before but honestly, even taemin can’t do “move” now - the dance i mean. maybe it was the clothing here though bc on the show with akmu it was great. but yeah the red cloth outfit didn’t pair well with “move” imo and made the key hip movement look messy

this is not about taemin; the beyond live style of concert kind of deprived us of actual cinematography of it :/ like tell me why strings and black rose looked so much better on random fancams from 7 rows behind than… on the actual screen lol

general commentary:

he was so nervous. really. like i get why, again, i understand it all, and even that didn’t stop him from delivering some absolutely delicious stages, but ohhh brother he was nervous

why was the audience so. dead. like why did you hype up my man when he did good huh. i have to do everything in this house myself next time i’ll be the hype man nr 1

this is my lukewarm take: i didn’t enjoy the “criminal” rock version that much. it was very boring? the chord progression of the guitar sounded too much like a sample without much twist, and there were better ways to incorporate rock into that song imo

i think overall the ratio of lip sync to backing track to no backing track was reasonable and i do like that he didn’t try to lip sync much, just letting everyone see “yeah this is playback”

and now <3 praise and what i enjoyed <3

even though i really don’t like “the rizzness”, that opening was fucking insane. imagine starting a concert while hanging upside down. and singing while it. wow!

all the ment segments were so precious. it was clear he missed the audience for his solo stuff too. i know he’s been touring with shinee for half a year now and all but i imagine it’s different to know that these people came here only for you, you know? the interactions were cute and it was just… well it’s good to see the both sides of lee taemin :)

as i mentioned, the ratio of supported vocals to raw vocals was reasonable, but when he did actually sing… oh lee taemin. this is obviously a biased opinion because i genuinely love his voice, it was what made me fall in love with him as an artist in the first place. notable mentions of vocals imo:

“heaven” was perfectly delivered and a feast as always. the bridge in “heaven” is probably my top 5 taemin bridges, so it’s not surprising, but the energy on the stage while he performs that is So Good. MWAH

“light” was fun! i was dancing along, the playing with the dancers choreo is entertaining to watch and it’s a good time over all

after the flop of “not over you” he payed back with both “night away” and “blue” to me. “night away” especially, it felt so warm and so… just lovely. he nailed that

even though i don’t particularly enjoy “black rose” i can’t deny, it was so good. the choreo is always captivating and he sung it well

“door” … where do i even start. “door” is one of my favourite taemin songs of all time, and to see it executed in such a bold way was absolutely incredible and so enthralling, i felt enchanted listening to each new note and line. genuinely an amazing experience

some miscellaneous thoughts that i don’t know where to place:

i loved “impressionable,” the energy was so right for it, especially, well the D2 unzipped pants :)

the “strings” choreo is so sensual and sexy and yet in this classic taemin style of subtlety about it, it’s so nice to watch, to see him get lost in the pain/pleasure the song talks about. and there is almost, a grown aspect to it now, the aspect of like fully owning his body and what he does with it. very nice

“she loves me she loves me not” was cute, the choreography was very simple but still nice to look at, and i loved the energy on stage of it. the girl gang TM smiling and all :) good time!

rearrangements/special concert versions of songs:

as i mentioned above, i have lukewarm feelings about “criminal,” i didn’t dislike it, but it could have been better

LOVED the whole “danger” stage so much as well as “famous,” to me they’re like two sides of the same coin tbh. and something about both of them being in the same section as want mmm…

i wish i didn’t have to talk about “guilty” but i think i have to mention “guilty” too. the staging was absolutely gorgeous, the orchestral pieces at the beginning and before the bridge, the change in choreo of the dancers as if ensnaring him… it was delicious! such a good stage!

a separate section for the encore because i feel like it deserves it:

i don’t think it’s too untoward to think of jonghyun’s passing when it came to the date of the concert. i saw a few other mentions of it too, so i know i’m not alone in this belief. and this is not to suggest it was somehow planned this way with this date in mind, but rather, soemthing to just keep in the back of your head, i guess?

the whole encore was magical. opening the concert back up with “idea”, the orchestral version nonetheless, and staging that mixed both the hell and heaven aspects of the concept (light blue iridescent suit + dark stage lighting and fire) was delicious to witness and a great way to get the energy in the audience back up again

i don’t think i can talk much about what “pansy” means to me as a song without crying. maybe it’s stupid, because that’s exactly what the song was meant to do, but the fact that taemin co-wrote it too just… makes it so special :( and to know what… the sentiment of the song is probably even doubled now, to know that he came back from the enlistment, because so many fans kept loving him and his music and we stayed by his side even when he wasn’t there. this is just me being sappy i know but to hear “pansy” again made my heart sing

“i think it’s love” is a beautiful song and he sung it beautifully. it was a great encore choice, just an overall masterpiece

finishing the concert with “identity” of all his songs, on a concert named metamorph after the idea of metamorphosis, the imagery of cocoons and blooming and growth seen throughout the concert, with, once again, the significance of the date… it meant so much. it means so much. it was genuinely a moving performance, one that hooks you in and keeps you there, not letting you go. the emotion the execution the meaning behind it all… it just felt right, for that song to close the concert

CLOSING THOUGHTS

i’ve seen every taemin concert, save for the beyond live one in 2021, and this one fits into the theme beautifully. it’s a comeback, it’s a reminder that he’s still here, that he is Back, and he is back for good! as he said in one fan sign, this will go on for as long as he wants to and he will be the one to put the stop to it. i’m grateful for everything taemin did musically this year and i can’t wait to see him grow even more, as an artist and as a person. love you! if anyone read this whole thing leave me an 🍎 emoji in the replies hah <3

[in-coherent-thoughts]

Rating The Religion of Loneliness (by syudou) covers.

(Idk have some brain vomit I've been storing for a while but only thought of writing down now bc this song randomly came in while i was shuffling Miy_yuus covers)

Dongdang 10/10

-soft as usual with his covers

-brings out the songs helplessness. I LOVE IT

-i like how his voice blends with the loud, overpowering instrumentals

-THIS cover feels like the characters just, not, resisting. The characters just let themselves be tangled in this abusive relationship. It sounds so dreadful and lifeless

-really beautiful cover in general

Chogakusei 9/10

-did a wonderful job at expressing the aggressiveness of the song, its a nice contrast to Dongdangs cover

-GROWLS!!! THE RAGE!!!!

-"I’m hoping to be saved by that, like an idiot/Saying that I hate this, that I don’t want to do it anymore" perfectly encompasses the hate Tamo has for the world, or himself, rather

-also a very nicely mixed cover

Miyashita yuu 1000000/10

-perfect as always

-sorry im biased(not really)

-a favourite

-the exaggerations on some parts, the frustrated screams on the "im not lonely! not lonely at all!" Contrasting the soft "even though i get that, this hunger for love wont disappear", even his voice faltering at the "ai"(love), the muffled effect on tamos part, heavenly mixing, once again THE FRUSTRATION!! THE DESPERATION!!! You can hear the characters desperation and frustration! Its amazing what yuu could do with his voice,,, like wtf is that skill

-his attention to detail is also so, so incredible. The way he delivers each line and makes it sound like its the characters are talking. Hes not JUST singing it. Hes TELLING a story.

- of course itd be criminal if i didnt mention these parts: "this little fucker/wont stay obedient forever [..] they're both insane" "sleeping through the night and waking up in the morning, simply repeating that/ i must have had hopes and dreams, but i suddenly realized this was all that was left/but how long can I go on while dedicating I have to that one thing?/ Ah, the world may as well laugh at this coward from the bottom of its heart." actually insane

Syudou (selfcover) 100/10

-2nd fave

-man where do i EVEN start

-syudou has such a distinct voice! He doesnt have Yuu's dramatic range nor chogakusei's powerful growls but his voice alone makes up for it. What i particularly love about this cover is the part "im not lonely!/not lonely at all but...." its SO addictive!!! Hes pretty good at screaming(?) You can also hear it at 3:03 on Herebeke Junkie.

-really fantastic overall.

-once again, round of applause for syudous voice because when i first listened to his selfcovers i was actually flabbergasted. You dont know HOW glad i was that he started using his own vocals for his songs.

[onlyswan]

hi art, I just read your recent installment and I must say that drunk art is just exceptionally poetic and I cannot stress it enough, you really now how to put such emotions into words that you know would deliver the sparks. I love every word you put into it especially these parts:

you don’t know if you’re blinded by love, putting your trust in jungkook when he said that he wanted to build a life with you; or if it’s arrogance, having the trust in your ability to stand on your own feet again incase a match is thrown in a puddle of fuel on the floor. the latter is more painful to think about, quite frankly. just because you can, doesn’t mean that you want to. you have to. you have to. with bruised knees from praying for a little more time, you have to. the earth doesn’t stop orbiting the sun when your house burns down.

you perfectly describe what it is like to be in a place where you cannot fathom how did you get in this place that is too good to be true yet so scary and that no matter how frightening it is you know you will never have it any other way and taking that big of a step and putting your heart in line with someone like THE jeon jungkook and making a home out of his heart, I must say that a person as beautiful as oc deserve him so so so much and it is so nice that oc seems to be mirroring a lot of people like us who carries baggage yet is experiencing such exqusitely beautiful love gives me comfort like hell yeah, we also deserved to be loved despite of it all.

the epiphany that he is doing this at 2am not because time has arrived to daunt him and he needs to leave your bed to go home. not anymore. whatever this is, it feels so fucking good. oh my god, he looks forward to spending the rest of his life feeling you breathe next to him, getting lost in how peaceful you look asleep when he randomly wakes up in the middle of the night.

also this... this made me swoon so hard that I just have to read it a couple of times to be able to absorb the power this thought holds. the domesticated feelings. looking at the love of your life and suddenly your future flashes in your eyes. oh jungkook, bless your sweet sweet heart.

I just love them both so much, they are both so playful yet they have the most genuine love for each other. Also art, I was listening to boygenius' album earlier when the song true blue played and it reminded me of in which! couple like:

You've never done me wrong Except for that one time that we don't talk about Because it doesn't matter anymore Who won the fight? I don't know, we're not keeping score

And it feels good to be known so well I can't hide from you like I hide from myself I remember who I am when I'm with you Your love is tough, your love is tried and true blue

I remember the previous installment and it's just so soft and so cute and so freaking wholesome like goodness, thank you for creating them. Anyway, that's all this is getting too long hehe Love, ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

“hell yeah, we also deserved to be loved despite of it all.” 🥹🥹🥹 i cried

ngl it took me a while to answer this bcs i keep reading your words over and over again. i love when they’re talked about like this 🥲 it’s just soooo heartwarming to learn that the messages i’m weaving throughout the drabbles are well received. like it still feels surreal to me that you guys read read my works :,( and have come to understand and love jungkook and oc deeply as much if not more than me. literally feel free to analyze bcs i’m so interested in hearing your thoughts and how you perceive them !! thank you so much for your time and attention :") and i hope i never waste or take them for granted. i really am so grateful for each like reblog comments and asks 🫂💕

and bless jungkook’s sweet sweet heart indeed </3 baby is so happy to finally be living with oc

omg these lyrics and especially “you’ve never done me wrong except for that one time we don’t talk about“ holy shit??? ���� so in which couple coded indeed. thank you for sharing i’ll be listening to it a lot !! <333

[ladytauria]

i was just gonna ramble in the tags (per usual) but. i ran out of tags. so. (i was on mobile too TuT but i saved as a draft & switch to PC so i could copy & paste them.) anyway. edited them out of tag format <3

under a cut bc i talk too much <3

shsjdjdksjdj oh my god.

i want to print this out and frame it

i want to fold it up & keep it under my pillow

it’s just!!! f u c k. it’s so GOOD! the card metaphor is amazing??? i esp love the 52 card pick up substituted jokers line, like. it was so perfectly delivered in jason’s voice & just??? ugh so good and then the folding together at the end im just 🥺🥺🥺

and!!!!! then tim’s entrance: 'casual and light like the liar he is’ <- SO good. i love when tim is acknowledged / called out for his lying liar ways <3 like. god. one day i’m going to have the presence of mind to actually play around w the various identity-weird fics i have half planned

anyway

and then!! jason ACTUALLY shooting at him was just!! it’s so good! and despite like. pulling the trigger w/o really thinking abt it his aim is still spot on (bc ofc it is; as if his training would allow anything else

((LOVED the princess / daddy line xD))

AND THEN my favorite part, when he unloads on tim & tim just TAKES it & comforts him even tho his pain is coming out in piss & vinegar bc it’s so much better to push ppl away than it is to watch them walk away on their own. & tim STAYING through all of that, letting him get it out & comforting him & just! ugh

&& then!! bc jason is so so good at self sabotage he brings up sex (i adore when they start as friends/not-friends with benefits like. it’s just all the yes) and tim is offended but he doesn’t let jason push him away

and THEN the whole asking him to stay bit, and the PROMPT and. UGH. yes. ‘the kind of earnest rock solid sincerity he always craved from bruce’ <- fucking DELICIOUS omg

and then he finally swallows his pride and ASKS & tim follows through i’m just!!! it's so good, i love when they take care of each other---i love when they let themselves take care of each other its just, everything i go nuts for. as u can see

thank u sm <3333

“Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.” for the h/c prompts? 💞

Thank you for the prompts!!! I was going to respond to both of them today but uh. This one got a little out of hand lmao

I hope you enjoy!!

9. “Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.”

Jaytim, warnings for: Thoughts of self-harm, canon-typical violence, panic attacks/triggers w/heavy emphasis on breath, Jason being a defensive, self-deprecating asshole <3

---

Jason doesn’t like to think of himself as a couple cards short of a full deck, but some nights? Are harder than others.

It’s so stupid. It’s always so stupid. Half the time it’s not even a trigger— and Jason knows his triggers, intimately. Has them filed away in a corner of his mind so that when the glass descends and his hands stop feeling like they belong to him, he can think to himself, oh, it was the beep of that guy’s wristwatch that set him off. That’s why he needs to be outside right now. That’s why he wants to punch brick until his knuckles are red and white and mangled.

Take tonight for instance.

He was doing his rounds. In between cases and expecting a slow night, when he found some guy getting worked over by a couple of mobsters. This would be easy, he thought. I eat chumps like these for breakfast, he thought. They aren’t even packing.

But a few meaty thwacks in the exact wrong rhythm, followed up by the poor sucker screaming in the exact wrong tone, and he’s left playing fifty-two-card pickup with only jokers to substitute. 

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Bloody shins aren’t as satisfying as busted braincaps no matter what Tim and the other bats say, but relationships are about compromise. He puts the guys in cheap suits on the ground and calls them an ambulance.

Their hapless victim gets a talking to about when it’s smart to borrow from loan sharks (never), directions to Leslie’s clinic (yeah, no, you’re gonna wanna take 15th—), what to say when the Red Hood personally intervenes on your behalf (thank you, strange man, bye), and Jason makes it to a safehouse without once giving in to the burn of the goading green fire in his blood.

See? Compromise.

Now he’s on the couch with blood on his bare knuckles, and the shards of glass in the bathroom are all that remain of his mirror. He sits and tries to breathe, but his brain is full of static; shuffling and shuffling and shuffling the deck but there’s no one to tell him when to stop. He’s not really sure how much time has passed when he hears the quiet whir of his security system shutting down.

There’s a gun in his hand with the safety off, pointed at Tim before the window’s even open.

Tim’s voice is loud in the quiet room, casual and light like the liar he is, but to Jason it still sounds muffled. Boxed up. Buried.

He takes another breath.

“Bad time?”

“Fuck off,” Jason says, just as faux-casual, because that’s what they do.

Only it wheezes out of him instead, thready and weak. The gun shakes in his hand. Tim pauses on the window ledge.

Jason can practically hear the gears whirring as he reassesses the scene: Jason’s bloody knuckles and the distant sound of water still running in the bathroom sink. Haphazard parts of his uniform shucked off almost at random, the helmet nowhere in sight, but his top missing and the holster straps hanging off his waist. 

Air whistles in and out of his tight chest in shallow, streaking streams that get closer and closer together the longer he looks at Red Robin’s expressionless white eye sockets. He knows what Tim sees. 

The silence weighs on him. It pisses him off.

The only thing worse than being a scattered mess is having a witness. The only thing worse than having a witness is if that witness is Tim. They haven’t been fucking that long, but it’s been long enough that Tim probably came over tonight with more than one item on his to-do list.

“Not tonight, princess,” Jason bites out when Tim still hasn’t said anything. “Daddy’s tired.”

Tim steps inside.

The gunshot rings sharp and stinging in the air before he even realizes he’s pulled the trigger. The smoking hole on the floor by Tim’s foot is the only warning Jason feels capable of giving right now.

“Did I—did I fucking stutter?” He tries to say, but black spots bloom at the scattered edges of his vision, and he wavers.

One second Tim is frozen with his palms out, showing that they’re empty, and the next he’s easing the gun out of Jason’s hand and letting Jason twist a fist in the front of his costume. He helps Jason sit back down, and Jason doesn’t want to look at his face, to see the pity there. 

He gasps, muscles tensing, and under his fingers he catalogs the new mesh Tim is trying out with his suit. It’s probably something with a stupid, long name and the word “polymer” thrown in for added pretension. It sounds like something Tim would do.

“...something happen tonight?” Tim is asking quietly.

It’s not Robin-steady, because he knows Jason well enough to know how bad an idea that would be, but it’s not the levity they fake with each other either. Whatever it is, it’s making Jason itch.

Then he catches Tim taking his pulse and peering into one of his eyes with intense scrutiny, and what he’s said catches up to him. 

Jason laughs. It’s an ugly sound.

“Oh, quit it. I wasn’t gassed,” he snaps. “There’s no toxin, there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“That’s not what I—” Tim tries to backtrack but it’s way too late for that weak shit.

“Except for the everything that’s fucking wrong with me,” he snarls. He didn’t know he was going to say that until he'd already said it, bubbling and burning out of his mouth like melting plastic, acrid and noxious— but he feels afloat, drifting; like he’s watching himself from the other room. So it doesn’t matter.

“It’s not going to be fixed, there isn’t any antidote for you to cook up in your cute little lab for this—” he whirls a sharp-fingered hand around his temple, “fucking garbage.”

“Jason,” Tim says, fingers tight and prying at Jason’s grip.

“There’s no cure for being beaten to death, no little step-by-step handbook for kids who don’t fucking stay dead, so you can take your shitty costume and your knock-off batarangs and fake-ass fucking concern—”

“Jason, take a breath for me.”

“You—”

Take a breath? Oh, he’ll take a fucking breath, alright—

He’ll take a breath and then he’ll—

He’ll take a breath and—

He’ll take a—

He takes a fucking breath.

Tim’s face is bare.

His eyes are very blue. It takes Jason approximately three years to realize that the heavy weight on his shoulders is Tim’s cape, unclipped and pooling in their laps.

It takes another five to realize that the heavy weight in his lap is Tim himself, straddling his thighs and breathing steadily under their joined hands. Tim’s heart beats an alternate rhythm, almost three beats for every breath in, almost four for every breath out, and Jason closes his eyes.

“Fuck.”

“Hey,” Tim says.

Jason doesn’t say anything more.

What else is there to say when your kind-of-colleague, kind-of-booty-call, complete-pain-in-the-ass comes over when you’re in the middle of some kind-of-mental break? Fucking ‘sorry’ ?

“Sorry,” he says. “Not exactly fit for company right now.”

Tim smirks. “I noticed.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You gonna shoot at me again?”

Jason scowls.

“I fucking might.”

Tim only rolls his eyes. Jason finds it oddly settling. He finds all of it oddly settling; bickering with Tim is normal. Easy. It reminds him of what he’s like now. The full fifty-two.

His fingers are still trembling, but Tim is stroking absent-mindedly over the skin on the back of his hand. He might not be aware he’s still doing it. Tim exudes an air of total comfort, like the only place he wants to be right now is literally babysitting Jason; but Jason knows better. He sighs.

“Listen,” he says, staring at a point past Tim’s ear. “I could have picked a better way to say it, but I’m— I’m really not up for anything tonight—”

Tim stiffens.

“Jason, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Sex, obviously.”

He watches in real-time as Tim processes that. It’s honestly kind of fascinating, in a terrible, gut-stabbing kind of way. Tim takes a deep breath.

“Dude. I get that you are in an emotionally vulnerable place right now—”

“Hey—”

“—but I’m not that much of an asshole,” Tim says flatly. “You really think I’m gonna bail the second I see that you’re having a bad night? Or that I’m only gonna stick around if you put out after you’re done having a panic attack? Very sexy. Fuck you very much,” he finishes, hissing and affronted. 

Jason stares at him.

“You can’t tell me this is how you wanted to be spending your night,” he says, but his hands creak convulsively around Tim’s, as if to hold him in place. The traitors.

“You don’t know how I want to spend my night,” Tim retorts.

“Oh, come on. I’m not gonna ask you to babysit me and check the closet for monsters before I go to sleep so I don’t have wittle nightmares—” Jason scoffs.

“So don’t ask,” Tim says, eyes burning; Jason’s breath catches. “Tell me to stay. I’ll be here.”

“You’ll be here,” he says skeptically. But Tim’s hands squeeze around his, so hard and fast it hurts. The pain is grounding.

“As long as you’ll have me.”

He wants to scoff again. It’s the kind of saccharine after-school-special corny bullshit that he always hated coming from Bruce.

But his grip is just as tight on Tim, their bones rubbing together through the barrier of their skin. The thought of letting go makes his stomach swoop, like the moments just after stepping off a plane with no chute. That window between stepping and being caught; when his heart still needs convincing that someone else will save him.

(It’s the kind of earnest, rock-solid sincerity he always craved from Bruce; the kind he always ate up, hook, line, and sinker.)

He swallows his pride. His dry throat clicks.

Fine. Stay. If you’re so fucking eager, is what he tries to say. 

But all that comes out is, “Stay.”

Tim leans forward, and drops his forehead onto Jason’s bare shoulder. Jason’s shaky breath stirs the fine black hairs beneath his nose, the mild scent of his shampoo wafting gently into Jason’s nose. After an uncertain beat, he lets his cheek fall. Then the rest of him. They stack against each other, two cards forming the foundations of a house. 

When Jason shakes apart, Tim holds steady.

[jemmo]

I need us as a society to talk more about ohm's amazing acting choices for pat and I love all the posts I read this week and in particular the complexity he added to him. THE LAYERS. but you know the layer I love the most? His softness. Because oh god do I love getting lost in that amazing part of pat. The way he acts, the way he speaks and his mannerism in those moments are chef's kiss. You always talk about how pat is pure like he was never touched by the horrible world around him and that's such a perfect description. But he is also soft as hell. And isn't afraid to show it too. I was just watching the bus stop scene and the guitar one in ep3 and you can see I'm going through it. I love everything ohm gave to pat. That man is brilliant.

*rolls up sleeves* oh dear precious anon you have given me the chance to rant and rant i will. strap in.

ohm is something else. seriously. i cannot even begin to go about expressing how much adoration i have for this man and what he gave to us through pat. its astounding. im gonna reference what ohm said in the ep 12 reaction on jennie's yt channel just bc its fresh in my mind and bc it perfectly captures the things i wanna praise ohm for. he spoke about how pat is very much like him, we've heard him say this a billion times, and its very obvious they are similar types of people in the way they behave; playful, silly, tactile, but also very frank and honest and serious when its called for, when important things are happening or being discussed, or when they're sharing their emotions. but ohm also said two things i wanna focus in on; how pat can act like this given the background he has, a background very different to ohm's, and how ohm can make people think the person on screen is pat, not ohm. and its funny, bc i think these things feed into each other and made him successful in both.

i feel like pat's background is something ohm dug into a lot and really studied and considered and built up to deliver his performance. he wanted that through line so he could deliver a fully realised pat, he needed to figure out why, despite his upbringing and family situation and his father and the feud and so on, pat could be so cheerful and goofy and care-free on the surface. im not exactly sure what that through line is, but whats important is that i see it. i see that pat is not a bunch of separate people or personalities. there isn't the pat with pran, the pat with his friends and the pat with his father; they're all pat. yes his behaviour shifts but all his personality traits mix and affect each other. nothing is is simple, nothing is by the book, nothing is just as it seems on the cover. everything has this air of something else underlying it, bubbling under the surface. im not even sure how to perfectly describe it, its just there (i hope you know i actually just sat and cried for 5 mins bc i was just thinking about pat too much and it broke me but we continue).

you can see that pat is not just a one dimensional set of descriptors pilled into a body. he is a person, a living breathing human. you can see what his core personality traits are and how they have been altered by his childhood and his current environment, by the people he's known and knows now, and how they manifest differently in certain situations and around certain characters. its like... when he's with pran, hes adorable and smiley but that pang of pain and loneliness and hatred for the world and press of expectations never fully goes away. and even when he's at his saddest or angriest, that innate kindness and care and goodness in his heart is still present. sometimes you look at him and just see a kid that wanted a friend, but instead was moulded into something he didnt want to be, and yet he still holds on to the warmth and want for happiness thats so integral to him. and i think its so incredible that we see him in so many ways, in so many different lights; happy, sad, angry, cheeky, horny, hurt, jealous, excited, in love etc, and they're all pat. none of them are shocking, none of the ways he acts when feeling these emotions feel un-pat-like. i rlly dont know how he does it, but its just like pat will do something, react a certain way in a new situation and i'll just be like 'yeah, ofc he'd act like that, he's pat, thats what pat would do'. nothing is out of character, everything makes sense!! its so well thought out and crafted, but you can tell all that work was done beforehand so it could be ingrained into the performance, which allowed ohm to act so naturally and impulsively, bc he was living that character. he wasnt thinking 'what would pat do?' bc he already knew. he is pat and this is what pat does. its just AMAZING.

and as for his softness, i rlly rllyyyyy RLLLYYYYY adore this aspect of pat. it would've been so easy, given the kind of role he's fulfilling, to make pat very trope-ey. he could've been a jock/boy's boy/hot-head that is only softened by love, who only reveals that side to his lover, bc its his lover that brings it out of him. very much a man's man that will only act cute with his boyfriend much to his own embarrassment and at the sacrifice of manliness. but pat is so so soooooo far from this. his cute and soft demeanour is just pat. yes he's like it the most around pran, but you see him be goofy and sweet and kind with pa and his mom, he's like it when he goes home in ep 12 much to the annoyance of his father. he's dumb and playful with his friends in similar ways he is with pran and it shows us that this is pat, not just pat with pran, it’s who he always is, it’s just he shines brightest with pran. and i love that this softness is so integral and central to a character who is also very manly. i spoke before about how I don’t pats ‘manly’ aspects are just present bc of his fathers expectations, I think that rlly is pat, and I love that he can be all those typically manly things while also being so cute and adorable, and also while being caring and thoughtful and emotional and open. toxic masculinity is all about men feeling like they can’t open up, can’t be vulnerable, can’t be soft, they must be strong and stable 24/7. pat shows us that that’s just not true.

you are not any more of a man bc you hold your feelings in. christ, pat’s whole thing is that he can’t sit with his emotions, he has to be open and honest, it’s like a compulsion. and he doesn’t see being vulnerable and honest as a weakness or a sacrifice, he sees as something he needs in order to live fully. he truly wears his heart on his sleeve, but in a way where he’s almost adamant that he will feel and think and live how he wants. all his emotions are right there and he will feel them and share them bc otherwise he feels like he’s living half a life, and as someone who probably had to hide so much as a child, I can so see where that desire and will comes from. and that kind of resilience matched with his cuteness is perfection. bc it’s like his softness is defiant, his adorableness is an unconscious statement that he will live every moment with pure joy. he will not hide, he will not restrict, he will not pretend. that does not make him the man he is. he will play stupid games and pull cute faces and say his cheesy one liners bc for him, being a man is about sharing the kindness and happiness in his heart with the world, creating a warmer and brighter place for the people around him, and I just find that so admirable.

we go on and on about pat being best boy, but it’s so overwhelmingly true, bc i sincerely believe he’s such a great role model for how to just live. live happy and and honest and whole. and i think if we all just lived a little bit more like pat the world would be such a kinder place, and that’s something i can’t thank ohm enough for.

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Harry’s stylist, right?”

Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?

or

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

part 2

-

“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”

Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.

Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.

Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.

Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.

The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.

The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.  

“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.

She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.

While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.

She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.

“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”

She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.

“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”

“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”

She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”

She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.

“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”

She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.

He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.

She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.

-

One week later

“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.

When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.

“H?”

She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.

Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.

“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”

“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.

“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.

“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.

She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers.  But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.

After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.

“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.

Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”

The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.

One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”

Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.

“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”

Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.

Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.

“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.

She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.

He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.

“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.

Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.

Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.

Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.

“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.

Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”

Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.

“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”

“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”

This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.

“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.

On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.

Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.

“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.

Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.

“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”

“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.

Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.

“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”

“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.

-

It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.

Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.

She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.

Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.

“Seriously, H?”

She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.

“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”

Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.

“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.

She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.

When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.

“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.

He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”

“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.

“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.

Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.

“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.

“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.

“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.

“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.

“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”

“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.

Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.

“I like it…”

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”

Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.

“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.

They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.

Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.

As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”

Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”

Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”

Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”

“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”

Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.

“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.

Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.

What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.

She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.

The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.

Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”

She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules.  Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.

“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”

Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.

“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”

The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.

“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.

“Just a little for my taste.”

“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.

Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.

Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”

Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.

He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“Thank you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.

“Y/N, right!?”

Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.

“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”

Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.

“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”

Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.

“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”

Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”

“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.

Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.  

“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.

“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.

Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.

Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”

Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“I wasn’t!”

Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.

“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.

“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”

Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.

“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.

Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.

-

Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x

Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.

When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.

While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.

As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H  

Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:

Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x

Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.

Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.

Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.

He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.

“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”

“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”

“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”

“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.

“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.

“And on the face?”

She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.

His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.

“Lipstick?”

She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.

“It was only from-”

“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.

“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”

She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”

He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.

“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”

His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.

She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.

-

She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.

“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.

“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.

Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”

“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.

When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”  

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”

She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.

“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.

She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”

Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”

She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”

He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”

“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.

As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”

“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”

“Yes!”

The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.

Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.

A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”

“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.

“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.

-

Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.

Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.

“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.

“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.

“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.

“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.

He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.

“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.

Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.

“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.

“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”

His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.

-

When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.

Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.

The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.

As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.

When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.

What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.

None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.

Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

      - All from Jeff.

She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.

- 

part 2

[sprinklesandshatters]

A Review on NCT 127′s 3rd Album <Sticker>

So NCT 127 just came back with their 3rd Full Album <Sticker> and this is my first 127 comeback since I became a fan last year! Neozone is such a special album for me as it was their first album that I explored entirely. I've known NCT as the group who never fails any expectations so I've kept mine up although I know they'll exceed it anyway. And guess what, they did! I absolutely love their new album hence this review~

This isn't a technical music review—as I am not a musician myself—but rather a listener's honest takes, goofy notes, and interpretation on each of the tracks in the album. I admit I've also struggled to build my own opinions on some of the tracks until I listened to them over and over again.

I have also heard there are mixed opinions on the title track <Sticker> and a lot says it's another acquired taste. But I think it's not just that, as it can be a grower, just like how most of NCT's songs were for me. Maybe after a few listens and a right passage of time, it will grow on those people. The bottom line here is, I like it a lot! 😛

So I listed down the songs according to their respective track numbers and followed each with a bulleted list of my opinions and interpretations.

(Viewer/reader discretion: before you continue, minors, do not interact as there are few 18+ contents under the cut. Thank you.)

1. Sticker

THEY DIDN'T JUST PUNCH A NEW NOTCH ON THE BELT LIKE THAT

THIS SONG SLAPS, LITERALLY SLAPS… AND WHIPS 

The recorder at the intro boyyyy I thought something was wrong but then I remember it’s NCT lmao

It already stuck in my head from my first listen from the Instagram audio.

With Taeyong opening the verse with his divine rapping, I knew I'm in for a new ride.

STICK-UH STICK-UGH STICK-UGHGHGH

To those complaining it sounding like noise music, imagine it sounding generic. I don't think it would fit as the title track. Not a b-track or in their repertoire, even. They are called NCT because they define the NEO in the music culture and music technology!

It honestly was an unorthodox, just like all of their title tracks, which I’m inherently here for.

Literally, no one does it like them!

The growls and the vocal flexes and adlibs! (You can tell it has Yoo Youngjin's brand.)

The crisp metronome sound that’s consistently ticking except for the pre-chorus and the dance break adds depth to the soundscape. I love how it’s used instead of the usual snaps.

The production quality blew my mind. Like how can someone think those melodies would sound so exquisite? CAN I CALL THEM GENIUS?

The piano at the back, oh my God—Yes! It adds this mystifying element to the song.

I'm not sure if it's a midi violin at the pre-chorus, but it added thrill to the song. It was a great transition from the bass line in the verses to the combination of the flawless harmony with the same instrumental.

"You treat me like a boy, like a grown-up child chasing a dream" JUNGWOO BABY NO MORE HUH

Taeil, Doyoung, and Haechan—the bridge vocal trinity!

But why the heck are they cowboys? I dig the concept, but why? LMAO

BTW GUNSLINGER MARK I’M ON MY KNEES YEEHAW

This is easily one of my favorite tracks from NCT 127's entire discography 💚

2. Lemonade

(⌐■_■)

Jaehyun starting off this song with his deep voice eee

The song opens to a verse oozing with chill confidence. They're like, yeah you're lurking because we’re cool.

This is such a huge slap to their haters. NCT's not chillin' like a villain, nah they're the main characters!

Well maybe they’re villains, but still ya not cooler than them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Funny enough how they could have just referred haters as simply lemons whose sour/bitter to the taste, but 127 squad's success is sweeter than all the haters' spiteful remarks so yeah, SIPPY SIPPY LEMONADE 🧃

"WOOF"

I might have just barked too wOW

Yuta’s vocals hooooO his voice just sounds so glamorous mhmm

Also Mark referencing their previous title tracks such as: Firetruck, Cherry Bomb, and Regular (it's Irregular in the lyrics) in his rap part 👌💅

I just love Mark's energy when he raps. HE RESOLUTELY BITES AND STRAIGHT UP EATS EVERY TIME HE DOES.

3. Breakfast

Now breakfast time, oh jeez!

AAAHAHFU—

Summer 127's bestie!

If Summer 127 talks about dancing all night long, Breakfast is the morning after.

You know what it is.

"Even if I gulp and drink you, it's not enough for me." oho Taeyong no you ha—STOP

Sexual innuendos aside, isn't it just sweet if someone tells you they'd want to have breakfast with you every day?  Okay maybe I'm melting at the thought 😩🙈💞

And I can see myself dancing to this song as I make breakfast (in the afternoon or at midnight bc I’m crazy)

This was an okay b-track for me at the first skim on the album, but boy it grew on me wildly.

Honestly one of my favorite tracks in this album.

4. Focus

Did I just invade a private call? LMAO

The analog voice filters make it like so.

Dude, this feels intimate in the level of eavesdropping a phone call between seasoned lovers. Then you realize you hear them whispering their kinks over the line and you're ooh, that's sexy! hfgklhfhf

My first listen to this, I almost went feral because,

"I can't wait to eat you…" when it's actually "I can't wait 'til we chill…" aahaha

"Baby call me when you want me." OKAY!

This sounds relaxing and chill. I'd love to play this on a late night drive or just before bed time along with Fly Away With Me, Sun & Moon, My Youth, and Long Flight.

Belongs to ‘make out session’ playlist  ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

That was lowkey a playlist recommendation, huh?

I'd be kidding if I don't say I could touch myself while listening to this song AHAHAFGHFJFJ

I didn't know this would grow on me this much lol I love love LOVE THIS!

5. The Rainy Night

Ooh, the holy melancholy!

Piano at the intro—I knew I'd cry to this.

This song isn't just about break-up, but the heartbreak after one.

The yearning; the remnant pieces from the shattering of what was once there.

I think I crumbled from this one.

This hit so hard I felt like I fit in the shoes with the lyrics throughout the entire song.

What’s fascinating is I clearly forgot the title when I mentally said this sounds like a sad rainy day song from the first listen.

Something I’d turn up when it suddenly rains, just because I want to feel the blues.

Taeil and Haechan singing in lower register? I wanna cry :( they’re just one of the best vocalists in K-music industry right now.

Could have been also nice if they added Yuta to the vocals.

"My selfish heart who waits for you to come back," OKAY WHO HURT THEM?

And the fact that they sang it so good that it translated every ounce of the emotions well even before I looked up for English translations is the reason why I love this song too.

6. Far

Hmm… What the hell?! Do I like this? Wait...

Alright!

The jumpy vibe from the first verse to the pre-chorus set the mood for this song. It sounds merry and heavy. It was honestly too much to take until I’ve reached the chorus part.

Honestly, I think this song could fit NCT Dream better, as it gives off a vibe similar to Hello Future's b-tracks. If some credible source say this could have made HF’s track list, I might believe you too fast.

Also Dream’s Deja Vu where they go na nananananana na na na~

Playful yet confident! That’s what I mean!

As usual, the vocals are insane! Vocal flex from left to right!

I swear Jungwoo sounded a bit like Taemin at the second verse that I had to replay it hahaha

I love hearing Johnny as a vocalist! SM, how many signs do you need until you utilize his vocal talent???

Taeil's part where he sings, "go nuts, go nuts, 'til we go bust, go bust" IDEK BUT I SNORTED A LAUGH AT FIRST LISTEN HFCAHKFHK

Not my favorite, but still great though!

But wait it’s actually stuck in my head???

7. Bring The Noize

Yes, they never beat those noise music allegations

HERE'S SOME NOIZE, BITCHES

I love me some noisy percussions. AND THE BASS YO

This screams so much confidence!

The build up from the pre-chorus to the chorus—FIRE!

This song reminds me a lot of SuperM's Super Car, especially with the engine roar samples and the battle cry-like singing at the chorus.

JAEHYUN RAPPING? You mean Jaehyun the visual, the vocalist, the actor, the model, the funny dude, aka my everything?! (markie bb look pls look away for a moment)

THEY DELIVERED IT STRAIGHT FROM NEOCITY THAT'S SOME NCT MUSIC RIGHT THERE NO ONE DOES IT LIKE THEM

When I said I'd play Focus on a late night drive, and if I add this in the playlist, VROOM VROOM SPEED LIMIT WHAT

OUTTA MY WAY

“We got no shame” ouh TAEYONG’S FLOW IS JUST VERY HIM AND HE’S IN A LEAGUE OF HIS OWN

You know what's so clever about this song? It's how it ended with Mark's final rap without any instrumental, leaving you  standing there with a doppler effect-like post experience.

A super car on a super speed just whooshed past you and you look its way as it zips through the road. It's gone in an instant but you're floored dumbfounded at a sidewalk. That's how I describe this song.

8. Magic Carpet Ride

This song… Wow. Oh gosh it's so beautiful.

Their harmony in the chorus—it makes me want to kiss someone so passionately that I'd cry.

This makes me want to feel love that transcends the universe. Literally, just please take me on a magic carpet ride :(

The background harmonies too oh my goodness—HEAVENLY.

Jaehyun's voice is so warm and soulful it fits perfectly with songs of this genre.

Okay alright Doyoung Grande!

And Taeil makes me feel like I'm listening to old school R&B.

The first time I heard this from the track video, I can't stop replaying because it's just that great.

This makes me want to love. I think that sums it up.

9. Road Trip

This is such a soothing song for me, especially how I easily become nostalgic thinking about the road trips I've had.

Whenever I listen to this, my brain immediately conjures up thoughts of my ideal getaways. Gazing at the sky through the car window, stirring up from a nap in the middle of the ride, and   eventually reaching your destination.

Oh, to travel around anywhere... (curse you covid-19)

Okay that's it. I'M PACKING UP.

But where do I go—

I could also imagine Mark playing this on the guitar and the other members sing along together, something like that.

Just Wholesome™ vibes.

I love how it evokes such a nice emotion within me effortlessly.

This isn't my favorite, but I still love this.

10. Dreamer

Eyyyy such a refreshing song!

This song is so bright it makes me want to dance. I play this first in the shower!

It reminds me so much of Elevator (from Neozone)

The horns make it more lively I think!

Yuta and Jungwoo's voice suits lively songs like this.

The background vocal in low register in Taeyong's part in the first verse is so good ahhfhf

Taeil, the R&B vocal king you are...

There's this part where Doyoung and Johnny harmonized, that at first listen they seemed to clash, but it sounded actually fine after a few listens. Maybe it's just that I've never heard them do it before.

And I think it's Doyoung's laugh at the end of the bridge? Oh my goodness I really love this too!

11. Promise You

MY FIRST LOVE AND MOST FAVORITE SONG IN THE ALBUM!!!

The first time I heard this from their NCIT Sharehouse Sitcom, I fell in love with the song already.

It sounds like something you'd feel from a warm, welcoming hug.

The lyrics are so beautiful and endearing. It's definitely a be-there-for-you type of song that will touch your heart.

It definitely sounds like a promise.

A song about platonic intimacy.

This really fits to be the closing song of the album. It's like the end of it but holds a promise that says “see you soon.”

Because they cherish their fans like that.

It's also like I've watched a movie with a happy ending, where the camera pans up to the clear sky and this song starts playing.

Speaking of ending, I would love to hear them sing this as an encore stage in their concert. You know, that moment just before the stage lights die down at the end of the concert where they send final blows of flying kisses to NCTzens. Then you come home smiling and crying.

This wasn't supposed to be this long since I originally planned to write this with just simple phrases and emojis but I got too engrossed lol. I also meant to include my own ratings but I figured it’s pointless since I can’t really decide about them hahaha

I really enjoyed the whole album and I love how they're progressively defining what NEO means by breaking through standards. It's not NCT music if it doesn't make you say "WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?" But then you realize it’s stuck in your head and you’re enjoying it already.

✨ OVERALL RATING: 127/10 💚

if you’ve reached until here, thank you for letting me share you a braincell or two 💞

[vanderlindemorgans]

Mr. Perfectly Fine

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: Two weeks after breaking up with you, you're picking up the pieces of your heart that had been broken by your now ex-boyfriend Javier Peña. You want answers, a clear reason as to why things fell apart. The only problem is that Javier refuses to even acknowledge your existence

Warnings: A little bit of period-typical sexism, but not much, Javier being an asshole, mentions of prostitution, some low level typical Narcos themes

Authors Note: So this idea has been swimming around in my head ever since the song was released last week. I already had a Bad Breakup fic for Javi planned but I’ve decided to extend it into three parts! Also reader speaks in English bc I do not understand a word of Spanish other than that one line in Ultraviolence. None of this is beta read, so there’s bound to be a few mistakes - if I get anything really wrong then let me know. 

Part 2 | MASTERLIST

The tension in the room was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. From the moment someone walked in they could feel it, the stifling air of awkwardness surrounding every single person in the room as they pretended to carry on with their work, averting their eyes to the spectacle presented in front of them, a war of agitation rife between two agents sitting across the room from each other as well as the unfortunate Steve Murphy who just happened to sit between you two. From your end it was simple silent fury, directed right across the room to where your partner, or rather, ex-partner, Javier Peña was seated at his own desk, casually leafing through mountains of paperwork and suspect photos as if you weren’t practically shooting daggers at him from across the way. 

He wasn’t doing anything, and that was exactly the problem - you wanted him to do something, say something, anything, if only it would show that he even gave a damn about the situation at all. But he never did. Every morning when he walked into work carrying a black coffee in his hands, his top shirt buttons hanging loose as they always seemed to be and his hair mustled as if he hadn’t been sleeping properly, he said nothing. He walked past you as if you weren’t even there, ignoring your stares and crashing down at his desk, ready to continue the endless chase for Pablo Escobar. And it infuriated you. Oh lord, how it made you burn. With every refusal of acknowledgement he gave, you became even more tempted to march right over to him and strike him across his stupid handsome face. You never did, of course, and you never would. Physical confrontation just wasn’t your style. Nevertheless, the mere thought of such did bring you a small bit of joy to your broken little soul. 

Things had been going like this for two weeks now. You hadn’t expected much on the first morning back in the office after what had happened between you. A part of you wanted him to come grovelling to you, insisting that he’d made a mistake and begging for you to take him back. That in itself was nothing more than a fantasy: Javier Peña was too proud to grovel. If anything, his behaviour shouldn’t have surprised you in the slightest. He was the one who broke up with you over a 27 second phone call, after all. 

Despite taking that into consideration, you thought by now you would have heard something from him. He’d have to talk to you eventually since you two were working the same case. Apparently no, because it appeared that he went out of his way to deliver every piece of correspondence meant for you through to Murphy, letting him act as a sort of unwilling middle man between the two of you. You knew that Steve already felt awkward enough having to be in the same room with the two of you whilst this was all going on, so your sympathy for him deepened when he was thrust into the even more awkward position of messenger. Sometimes you swore he made up fake meetings with Messina to attend to or new leads to investigate just so he could get away from the suffocating air of hate around you and Javi. And really, who could blame him?

You felt your nose twitch in annoyance as you trained your eyes forward to him, periodically looking down at various files of intel to keep up the facade that you were indeed working, though you eyes were across the room for most of the time, searching for any sign of emotion on his face. Nothing, zilch, not a single trace, his expression only showcasing general indifference, as if nothing were wrong at all. You gripped your hand tightly around the edge of your pen, thinking of everything you wished you could say to him. How’s your heart after breaking mine, Javi? For your information, ever since you pulled that bullshit on the phone, I’ve been miserable as all fucking hell. Before all that happened, I wanted to try. I was even ready to try to forgive you after that stupid fight, but you just had to make that call. You know what? I’d actually hate you less if you just acted like you cared a little that we broke up. But noooo, you’re just Mr. Perfectly Fine, what with your ignoring me and your casual cruelty, your always showing up at just the right time, and your insincerity, and the way you think everything fucking revolves around you. Well, I’ll tell you something Javi - I’m done! Absolutely done with you and your shit. Jump off a cliff for all I care!

“I’ll be back later on, gonna go follow up on a few leads” your thoughts were cut off by Javier’s abrupt announcement, your eyes gracing themselves upwards to watch him hastily scoop his jacket off the back of his chair and skulk his way out of the office. Every bitter word you wanted to say to him burned on your tongue, though you only managed to settle on a simple yet seething glare while his eyes glazed over you, rushing himself out of the room as quickly as humanly possible. You noticed Murphy look over his shoulder like he was about to say something but it was too late - Javi was already long gone. 

_______

Letting out a low groan of frustration, you slammed the door to your car shut and threw your head back against the seats headrest, the stress of the job and the emotional weight of the day combining to make you even more tired than you would usually be at the end of a long day. Javier hadn’t been back to the office since he left, leaving both you and Murphy to pick up all the work he’d left in his absence. If that wasn’t infuriating enough, the thought of him running around all of Bogotá just to avoid seeing you brought your anger to new unreachable heights. It was annoying - him not being around should have left your mind to be free to do some actual goddamn work but instead, just as before, every single moment he occupied your mind, living there permanently as if it were his right. How much more infuriating could that man get?

Thankfully, the drive home wasn’t any more of a nuisance than usual, since the apartment complex you shared with the others wasn’t that far from the embassy, so that was a small positive at the very least. Once you’d pulled up to the lot you were feeling a lot more level-headed than you did before, and were mainly looking forward to kicking back in pajamas and watching whatever was on TV with the leftover pizza from the night before. It wouldn’t do much to take your mind off everything with Javi, though, you knew that much. Still, a small bit of bliss was still bliss. 

Your apartment was down the hall from Javier’s, which had made it easier for you two when you were together but now felt like another sore reminder of what had been. Sighing heavily to yourself, you kicked the door to your car shut and stuffed the keys into the pocket of your jeans. A minor annoyance, sure, nothing you couldn’t handle though. You wondered if he would even be back right now. He had to be, right? An idea started to creep into your head at that thought, taking root and festering until you had practically talked yourself into doing it already, descending up the stairs with a sense of purpose behind you. Maybe if you showed up on his doorstep you could force him to confront you, make him look you in the eye. Any sort of acknowledgement to what you two had would be nice at this point, and if you had to take action yourself to get him to do it, then so be it. 

The closer you got to his door the more you felt you should turn back, a feeling of uneasiness beginning to form somewhere deep in your chest. This might be a bad idea. What if you two got into a fight again? As much as you wanted nothing more than to hurl some carefully crafted insults at Javi and his stupid gorgeous face, you weren’t exactly up for a full on battle that could result from it. Would it be better to simply go home and ignore your problems a little more?

Once you were only inches from the door was when you started to hear it. At first it sounded muffled, on account of the fact that there was a physical barrier between you and them, and you weren’t quite sure exactly what you heard at first but when you pressed yourself closer to the door you could hear it all clear as day - a woman moaning loudly on the other side, whimpering out Javi’s name and betraying exactly what was going on within the walls of the apartment. You felt your breath hitch in your chest, the world feeling like it was collapsing around you from the very second you realised why he had left early for the day. Unable to stop yourself, you tore yourself away from the apartment door and ran down the hall to your own place, tears falling at a rapid pace that refused to stop. You didn’t know if the woman in there was an informant, or a prostitute, or some random chick he’d picked up in a bar after ditching work for the day. In the end none of it mattered though. All that mattered is that it wasn’t you in there with him, like it used to be, like it should be, and that fact made you hurt all the more fiercely.

Fumbling with the keys to your apartment, you choked on a low sob working your way through the waterfall of tears in your eyes to try and wrestle the key into the lock. Through your haste, you accidentally let them fall loose from your palms and onto the ground, prompting a loud “fuck!” to ring out from your throat, loud enough for everyone in the neighboring apartments to hear. Not like you really cared about that, to be honest. With your hands shaking, you finally managed to throw the door to your apartment open, slamming it back closed with a thud and leaning back against it with your head in your hands, slowly descending to the ground to finally give in to the wave of sorrow threatening to claim you. 

You’d known his reputation before you started seeing each other, that he slept with all his informants and chased every woman who crossed his path in Colombia. Actually, it had made you hesitant to get involved with him in the first place but once you two had bitten the bullet and finally admitted your damn feelings for each other, Javier had ceased with his wild ways, becoming solely dedicated to you and you alone. And sure, you two weren’t together anymore, there wasn’t anything stopping him from being with other women. It felt like a deeper twist of the knife though, what you’d heard from behind that door, and it practically confirmed the sickening feeling that had been building in you since the first day back in the office after your breakup, when Javi refused to even look you in the eye and acted as if you’d vanished off the face of the planet. He doesn’t care about me anymore. 

Moving on had been that much easier for him. While it took everything in you to get up each day, he was doing absolutely ok. More than ok, if the sounds coming from his apartment were anything to go by. He was even already settling back into his old reputation. You should’ve known it was too good to be true - the manwhore of the DEA, Javier Peña actually wanting to settle down with one woman, actually caring about a girl beyond what she could be in bed. You remembered the raised eyebrows when you two had first gotten together: for most, it just seemed so out of nowhere. You’d ignored them all, remembering all the times you’d be tangled up with Javi on the couch, his head nestled into your neck while your heart raced a mile a minute, hearing every sweet nothing and praise he’d whisper to you. Stupid girl, you should’ve known. 

_______

After such a huge revelation, you thought things might’ve changed. In what way they would, you didn’t really know. Maybe the change would be sudden, such as you finally working up enough of a resolve to actually go confront Javier on his shit. Or maybe you’d take a leaf out of his book and start trying to seem like nothing was wrong at all, maybe go out on a few dates with some other guys. One of the Search Bloc guys had been eyeing you up every time he came over with Carillo to talk strategy, maybe you could go out with him. Though you knew it wouldn’t help - unlike Javier, who was actually more than happy with where you two had left things, you weren’t, and acting like it was just to throw it in his face wasn’t really going to work if he didn’t care enough to look over at you in the first place. And even then, the idea of falling into bed with some random man that you didn’t care for all that much in the name of moving on didn’t seem right to you. 

Nevertheless, you expected some form of change to happen the morning after when you came into work to see Javier sitting at his desk, on the phone to someone you couldn’t care less about. But nope. Nothing had changed. You sat down and stared across the room at him, just like you’d done every day for the past two weeks, and he ignored your stare to continue with writing something down on his notepad, just like usual. 

Maybe the change would be gradual, you thought, staring back over at the man in the midst of your ire with one of your coldest glares. And sure enough, around midday Steve had come up to you asking to retrieve something from the evidence room for him. Apparently he needed to look over something but was too busy with his own work to go fetch it - you knew on some level that his excuse was bullshit as it had been a pretty slow day for all of you but sure, whatever, if it got you out of that room and away from Javi for at least a few blissful moments that was fine by you. 

Reaching out for the door to the evidence room, you pushed it open and admitted yourself into the crowded space, twisting around to slam the door shut firmly behind you. Before you were rows of shelves containing every bit of evidence the DEA had accumulated against Escobar - there wasn’t as much as there probably should have been due to the fire that had broken out at the Palace of Justice years before yet the amount contained in that small room was still impressive in size. Moving between the shelves, you scanned the rows of boxes looking for the one Steve had asked for in particular, taking your time with it as there was a small sense of serenity to being in that room. For once it felt like you could breathe. You didn’t have to sit at a desk across from your ex, you didn’t have to go home to your apartment that was literally across the hall from his, you could be alone and not feel suffocated by his ever-present shadow over your life. Though, in some way you supposed, your own memories could still prove just as suffocating as Javier’s own godforsaken presence.

As if by thinking of him you’d magically summoned him, the man himself strode through the door to the evidence room, appearing to be in quite a hurry however once he noticed you were there he stopped, his eyes widening for a fraction of a second before returning to their usual stoic glare. You could barely contain your own disappointment at his sudden appearance, letting your face twist into a low scowl as you watched him walk down the aisle you were standing in, his eyes dashing from row to row searching for any place to look so they could avoid landing on you. Anger bubbled within you, a thousand different sarcastic or otherwise snarky remarks coming to mind that you could throw out at him, every one of them becoming increasingly more scathing the more you thought about it. Letting out a small sigh, you forced yourself to push all those delightful insults to the back of your mind, not wanting to become caught up in any more personal drama than you had to. Get the box and go. It’s that simple. There doesn’t need to be anymore to this. 

A minute later your eyes landed on the fabled box you’d been searching for, shoved into a corner and so out of the way you almost missed it completely. You thought of asking Steve what was in the box that he needed so bad when out of nowhere you heard a familiar voice speak up from behind you.

“Listen, I...about what happened on the phone a few weeks ago-”. 

So, it seems Mr. Perfectly Fine has finally decided to break his silence. In an instant you twisted yourself around to face him, quickly taking in his serious expression and stiff stature before your eyes met for the first time in two weeks.“Oh, so you’ve finally decided to speak to me now? That’s a first. I thought you were steadfast gonna ignore me for the rest of my life” you spat, not allowing him any form of politeness or decorum in your reply. Why should you? He’d ignored you for weeks. He deserved this. 

You watched as Javier tensed at your words, clearly not expecting the bite back that you had given to him. There was some part of his expression that almost looked sheepish in a way, as if he wasn’t quite sure if he really wanted this conversation to happen at all. “I wasn’t ignoring you, I was just-” he started with you rolling your eyes and cutting in almost immediately. “Save it for someone who actually gives a shit. Shouldn’t be hard since you don’t seem to care all too much yourself” you snarled, an action which only made him even more tense. 

“I do care, and I kind of always have fucking cared so if you could calm down a little and stop getting yourself worked up we can actually talk about what happened. Can you do that for me at the bare minimum?” he retorted, a harsh edge appearing in his tone that indicated he was already becoming frustrated with your attitude. You knew Javi’s emotions like the back of your hand - he wasn’t a patient man, and he had no time for snark or sarcasm, though only if it was directed at him. When it came to himself, he was more than happy to indulge in a small bit of pettiness. You didn’t much care at that moment though: as far as you were concerned, he lost the right to a civilised discussion when he broke up with you over the phone and then pretended you were invisible for weeks. It’s not like things can get any worse than they are now, right?

“Oh, sure, sure, we can totally talk. How about I start then?” you fired back, every word simmering with venom and dripping raw with sarcastic edge. Crossing your arms, you leaned back against the shelf to take him in, from the creases in his tie to his tired eyes staring straight into you. Wait, tired? You didn’t realise it until then but he had been looking pretty tired lately, almost like he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Then again, his sleep schedule had never been quite stellar, so that wasn’t totally out of the ordinary. And he was probably up all night with that woman I heard him with, you reminded yourself bitterly.  “Look at you, so dignified in your well pressed suit, so smug and self-involved, so far above me in every way, so far above that you won’t even look me in the eye or acknowledge my presence. Tell me, Javier, has it really been that easy to forget about me?” you taunted. “Though I supposed when you’re seducing every whore in Colombia into your bed it would be easy, wouldn’t it?”. 

Javier was caught off guard by your remark, not anticipating that you would go so far as to accuse him of returning to his old ways. “First of all, she was an informant, and I had to leave yesterday to go meet up with her. Things ran into overtime and that’s the reason I wasn’t back. I thought you of all people understood that gathering intel is a vital part to the fight against Escobar?” he replied, that last line at the end being delivered with only a little more underlying snip than the rest yet it was more than enough for you to feel around thirty percent more pissed at him. 

You scoffed at his lies, your lip curling into a snarl at his attempt at patronising you. “Don’t patronise me. I’m well aware of the ins and outs of this job, in case you’ve forgotten I’ve been working with the DEA for eight years now, which is why I’m calling bullshit on your pathetic excuse for a lie. You do realise we live in the same building right? I know you were doing more than having a friendly discussion with her in there, in fact, I quite literally heard you two through the goddamn walls on my way back home. And before you try to spin some shit about how it was necessary for the case, you and I both know that fucking the informant isn’t a standard part of procedure. You don’t see Murphy bedding any of his sources of intel, do you?”. 

“Murphy’s married, princesa” he deadpanned, throwing in that little nickname he had for you that two weeks ago would have made your heart flutter but at this time and in the context he used it only soured your mood further. “That’s besides the point. You’ve been acting like I never even mattered to you at all, and it’s honestly making me wonder if I ever did? Especially since I apparently didn’t deserve the dignity of a proper breakup and got a 27 second phone call instead. Tell me, when did you change your mind? I thought I was supposed to be the one you were waiting for all your life. Guess that was pretty easy to change, wasn’t it?” you snapped.

“Hermosa, can you just fucking listen for one minute?! God, you’re impossible sometimes” Javier shouted, that infamous temper of his rising towards the surface at a rapid rate. It was only a matter of time before he spat something out that he would no doubt regret. In your own haze of anger though, that fact didn’t register with you at all - you only saw red. If you had to scream back at him to finally pull some answers out of the man, then so fucking be it.

“No, how about you listen for once! I know we had that big fight but we could have just talked. The next day when you called me up I was ready to forgive you for being a complete ass. And what did I get instead? ‘I’m sorry, I think we should stop seeing each other’ and a dead dial tone after that. I can tell the only reason you’re apologising today is just so you don’t have to feel like the bad guy in all of this. So what’s the truth? Why were you so ready to throw away a whole relationship over one night of terse words?” you screamed, not caring that you two were at work and anyone could pass by outside and hear you two argue. With the way you both were shouting, you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire building could hear your screaming match with Javier. None of that mattered to you though. The only thing that mattered was the truth. 

You weren’t the only one refusing to hold back in any of this: any lingering spark of politeness had vanished in Javi, his eyes turning dark with searing anger you had only seen in him a couple of times before. “You want to know why? You want to fucking know why? It’s because you’re a fucking pain to deal with. You may be a fantastic agent but god you can be so stupid sometimes. You’re too reckless, you throw yourself into danger too willingly with no consideration for anyone else. Did you ever stop to think what would happen to the people who cared about you if you died? Do you even give a shit about the people trying to protect you?” he confessed, fury burning with every word that came out of his mouth, his admittance making you flinch. It was just like he said during your last fight, the one that led to him dumping you in the first place. 

Everything he said from that night came rushing back to you, remembering how furious he’d been at you for what had happened during your last raid together. You could see that underneath it all he was concerned for your safety, a gesture that was usually sweet but frustrated you that night as you felt something more akin to a porcelain doll than a capable agent in his eyes. Just because I’m your girlfriend, doesn’t mean you can treat me like I need to be protected. I can handle myself just fine. That was what you’d said to him that night, which should have been the end of it but somehow as the argument went on things got more and more heated that by the time he’d stormed out of your apartment neither of you could remember what had started it all. 

What took you by surprise was that apparently he was still stewing about this, for some reason not wanting to believe in your capabilities as an agent and that alone made you more pissed at him. “I don’t need to be protected, Javier. I’m a woman, a DEA agent for crying out loud, not a flower! I’m more than capable of handling myself, I was literally trained for this! Nobody else here seems to have a problem with how I approach things so maybe the issue isn’t my method of attack but the fact that you’re a paranoid asshole?”. 

He raised a single eyebrow back at you, looking somewhat skeptical of your claim but more so angry that somehow you two had managed to circle back around to the very thing that had started this whole mess.“Really? Because our last raid you were throwing yourself into the fray as if it were a suicide mission. It was a miracle you only ended up with a minor sprain to the wrist. Those men, the sicario’s, they don’t fucking hold back, one wrong mistake means the difference between life and death” he snapped.“And you know what? After constantly stressing over your safety every minute I was done. If you wanna end up with a bullet between your eyes, be my guest”.

The second those words slipped from his lips, he knew he’d fucked up. As the tears started to form in your eyes you could see him freeze up, his burning temper that had caused him to be so hateful before starting to slowly seep back, replaced with remorse and a hint of panic if you squinted. Although that didn’t matter much right now - his venomous words were rattling around in your brain, acting as a metaphorical hammer that took the final swing towards your damaged heart. Apparently what you heard through the walls the night before hadn’t been enough to break you completely, since there was still enough left of your heart for the rest of it to be shattered by his callous cruelty. 

Forcefully swallowing down your cries, you wanted so badly to disappear from the room. You wanted to melt into the floor, to run away and go find one of Escobar’s men and gloat about all you’d done to try to stop him so you could feel the mercy of a fatal gunshot wound to the head. All the pain you had felt previously paled in comparison to the knife that cut you then, the tight feeling of your throat closing with every word you forced out. “So you were lying. You don’t care about me at all. You...you think I’m stupid. And reckless. And...not able to handle being here…”. 

“Shit, princesa, that’s not what I meant, I-” Javier started, desperately scrambling to fix the mess he’d caused, however, you weren’t going to let him. He’d made his bed, now he had to lie in it. Any hope he might have had of making things right was now thrown straight out the window. No more chances. Not anymore. 

“I think that’s exactly what you meant, Javi. Well, you got your wish I guess. I’ll get out of your life for good” your voice wobbled as you spoke, the next few minutes becoming a blur from when you’d pushed past him and ran out of the evidence room, hearing him call your name behind and not bothering to turn back to face him, running through the halls past different agents and members of the DEA, your hand shielding yourself in a pathetic attempt to save face. Somehow you’d managed to make it out to your car, throwing yourself into the driver's seat and jamming the keys into the ignition, your mind going in a million different directions. Your first thought was to go back home, though you knew that you’d have to hear Javi come back later, probably with yet another woman he picked up. You didn’t exactly have any friends in Colombia - with your line of work there hadn’t been exactly a lot of time to sit around and mingle with people, and truth be told you wanted to avoid people at all costs right then. Without any idea as to where you might be going, or what you were going to do, you pulled your car out of the parking lot and slammed on the gas to get you out of there, the world surrounding you not registering to you anymore and every sound becoming a rush against your ears that you paid no mind to. 

One thing was for sure - you weren’t going to give Javier a single drop more of you. Your time, your mind, your energy, your tears, nothing. He’d already proved himself to be a lying sack of shit who didn’t care about you, so as it stood, you wouldn’t care about him either. Like the end of a tragic tale, everything had crashed and burned, and now that you thought about it more, maybe that was how things needed to be. 

Goodbye, Mr Perfectly Fine. I’ve been Miss Misery for the last time. 

Permanent tag list (if you wanna be added shoot me a message):

@greeneyedblondie44��

[written-beyond-the-grave]

Elija Mikaelsaon Dating a Black S/O Headcanons

Did anyone ask? No, did I deliver? Yes.

- Alright, so Elijah and the Mikaelson’s have been alive for a while. Never got a specific date, but we have vikings. And as Elijah has been alive for a minute, he’s had flings, situationships, lovers, and at some point out knight in shinning armor was probably a fuck boy… don’t @ me.

- What I’m trying to say is man probably did it all, Asian, Latinx, Caucasian and African American and maybe even African and Caribbean… Maybe even fucked around with his sexuality for a second because he got it like that and the writers were too pussy to put this shit on

- Tbh probably the originals tried all the genders and non-genders, change my mind. But elijah strikes me as a free for all who loves something refreshing that’ll take him out of Klaus’s bullshit for a minute

- But here’s were this shit gets spicey… Elijah… with a black s/o….. Just hear me out poc who been waiting for someone to give them good fucking food on poc x tvd/ the originals, I got y’all… unless college comes back.

- OK so, I feel like if you’re rocking with Elijah he’d dress you up and ice you out because he can. Nothing under $5,000 for his s/o… We talking furs, diamond, real leather, snake skin, hell even a whole ass snake if you wanna be on your Bruce Wayne shit一 better yet, your T’challa shit with a whole ass panther (black panther ain’t real soooo y’all can get a black puma and call that bitch a panther lmfaoooooo)

- He’s asking you to a dinner date and then you say you’re ready…. Wearing pretty little things…. Missguided… honey. (Nah ain’t shit wrong wit those brands, they be having bangers tbh and sales like a bitch) Let him upgrade youuuuuuu. You only wear Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, Burberry, Balmain, etc. Try walking out there looking a damn mess and distasteful… just try it sis 

- Speaking of which… my mans got you with hair too! Fuck you mean ?1?! 

- He had a black s/o in the past, even though her hair had loose curls… we won’t discredit her. He has some knowledge on how curl hair works, and if he’s lacking, he as a whole library and might fuck around and ask Bonnie in exchange for some witchy ingrdients (im cdfuuuuuu)

- Name, braids, twists, locs, finger waves. Wanna shave bald??? He’s for it, let him get you his barber. Fuck it, he’ll get you Marcel’s barber. Lined up and all that shit, throw in a fade too

- And coming in for wash day, he’s sitting behind you days in advance helping you take down your hair after a month or two. Grey sweatpants, scissors in hand, spray bottle to the side with Netflix as background music…. Fuck with it. You’re all tired after doing like 8 and he tells you to take it easy, with vamp speed and the deterixty of those fingers…. *chefs kiss*

- He sets up a lil wash day station for you, or if he’s on the clock just books a whole salon for you alone already paid for. But if he’s doing the work, best believe he spent the coinssss COINS for the organic shampoo shit you have the refrigerator and the deep conditioner, AND THE FUCKING LEAVE IN. He’s keeping your shit moisturized in the winter. His big hands and gentle fingers helping detangle your hair, you in a fluffy robe, enjoying being loved on….

- Y’all didn't even get me started on him doing twists… or plaits, or the bantu knots, the concentration on his face

- IDK why I gotta say this… nails done too, he loves the feel of your nails gliding on his scalp and down on his back when he’s giving you those slow strokes. 

- This doesn’t have to do with anything, but the fact that the originals were set in New Orleans which is mostly BLACK BLACK BLACK BLAAACCCKKKKK and I saw like 3 black people in that bitch, ong….. Julie Pleck, you basic bitch

- Anyways, I feel like Elijah in a trench coat coming to pick you up from work would be such a vibe and a mood. Like, he knows when you get off and you might just take public transportation or something to have some sort of independence. But he shows up after work when you’re leaving with some friends from work…. Nigga shows up in a dark blue cadillac, trenchcoat with the collar up, leather gloves… and a fresh cut

- Who tf let him out the house??

- And ik you’re friends trifling too asking who is he, a damn fine tall glass of milké

- And he’s just leaning against the door waiting for you and once he sees you, he waits for you expectedly and kisses your forehead in greeting and gets the door for you

- Speaking of driving, Elijah be too damn serious, and that’s were you come in. 

- I need him and the Miakelson’s at a cookout doing line dancing, the electric slide, cupid shuffle (and give Rebekak some goddamn friends shit, she everyone stay chasing love and shit but have 0 friends and boundaries, they drag family though the mud) 

- Like I need him out his suit and in some dark jeans, a solid white v-neck, rolex on his wrist, and white air forces

- Sitting there, kinda out of place until he settles in. Like I deadass see him asking where the tables are at the cookout and like… you break it to him he’s gonna have to do the table legs for that shit

- And the plastic cutlery! LMFAOOOOO his soul is slightly quaking

- And its finna be a whole ass test when an uncle comes up and grabs him by the shoulder in a greeting and tries to fill in the seat for spades or even worse…. Dominoes…. That’s it. It’s over. Elijah been alive for too long and knows every play in the book and can bluff his ass off

- But if we talking dominoes… we gon have the boondocks animation version of a nigga moments cuz y’all fights will be started, money will be lost…. To Elijah. In the end he gives it back bc he’s a good sport and bc humiliation is a greater victory 

- Lmfaoooo and the quiet drive back, you’re exhausted but the music station is playing throwbacks and Usher’s climax comes on and bitch… the high notes, the lamp posts that give you both a glimpse of each other’s side profiles. And for once Elijah is relaxed and coming down from his amusement. No one is trying to kill him or his siblings, and good food albeit greasy in his stomach.

- Dare he say he felt human for a moment

- You staring out the window and softly singing along enjoying what the day was, Elijah loving the ambiance created. Mmmmmm such a mood

- THAT BEING SAID imagine you and Elijah on a long drive and “I Mean It” by G- Eazy comes on and you start singing along bc data is expensive over long ass drives and being stuck in traffic. And Elijah is giving you a bemused look, you in all your glorious wonder and you just make the lyrics more dramatic ashit trying to be a heartbreaker and all that. But, the true heart breaker is Elijah

- He comes in on the verse and gives you all eye contact, lips completely sync but your can kinda hear his voice keep the tempo…. Bitch this makes me feel some type of way… and as he’s going on he grabs your face and tilts your chin up OOOOUUUU gets up all close and personal and finishes the lyrics which is perfectly timed with when the light turns green and turns back like nothing just happened. There yo are aping like a fish bc tbh if anyone could rap it’d probably be Kol, he’s like the emnemin mixed with busta rhymes type, but tone it down….

- Bitch imma go fantasize rapping Elijah, y’all been slept

- And for those asking yes, I do write for black readers, mor specifically female but I can try male

[rocinantescoffeestop]

[pjo series thoughts - spoilers ep. 1]

• Bobofit? just makes me think of Boba Fett and now I'm picturing Nancy fanart as a star wars clone XD

• Eddie the Super is a bro in this adaptation. I agree with what I've heard some other folks saying around these fandom parts, I like this change from Eddie being one of the poker buddies to being at odds with Gabe, too.

• Sally Jackson listening to 'logical' by Olivia Rodrigo. Sally Jackson being an Olivia fan!!!!

• Gabe and Sally's relationship here... it's not good sure, but in this adaptation, I can see sort of how they could have started, maybe at first it not being about 'protecting Percy', as they sort of have a banter here that doesn't just seem like a watered-down/kid-friendly version of a dysfunctional marriage but also like the remnants of some sort of clicking. Of course, I want to believe that Gabe is still an awful human being, and yeah, the show portrays that he's a slum, a verbal dick towards everyone in his life, has abusive habits like checking Sally's phone without permission, so I still don't like him here. But, there's a difference between series!Gabe and book!Gabe in which book!Gabe was just painted as cut and dry, black and white awful, like the worlds slimiest, grimiest old fool. Maybe it's the act of seeing it instead of reading about it since in the book we ARE the narrator – a twelve-year-old boy with a limited worldview and seeing things more as cut-dry/black-white – and here we're more on the outside looking in, so we can approach the world with a more objective viewpoint, and see details not as 'good' or 'bad' but as just details. Just something like 'life just be like that sometimes' kind of way.

• 'Like a puzzle with have the wrong pieces' hit home for me. Also, describing Percy's attention slips through the mist as 'daydreaming' is such a good way to relate ADHD to his demigodness. I like how the series described Percy's mind and disabilities better so far than the books.

• 'Something that felt real to you that no one else can see?' The way Sally delivers this line... UGH so good at being very subtle in suggesting that she can relate to Percy personally here, hinting at her ability to see through the mist as well despite being 100% mortal. Or maybe that's just me knowing things revealed later in the series and subplanting that onto the now.

• It's hard explaining greek gods being real to your son. LOL undercut perfectly with Walker's comedy ("like– like Jesus?"). Also, Walker's acting? 10/10

• putting Percy and Grover at odds in the series just like in the books but each do it differently – in the books, Percy ditches Grover bc he's acting weird and it's stressing Percy out. In the series, Grover is the one that does the dirty deed and makes sure Percy gets expelled from Yancy. Either case, they both put tension in the relationship (to be repaired later in the narrative). So, before you say anything bad about the differences between book and series, think about the emotional part of it. The series speaks to the HEART of the scene, of the story, even if it's not a word-for-word retelling with visuals.

• "He is brutal, he is relentless, he–" "He is still wearing underpants." Classic Percy comedy akdjfhgklsjdfg I'm in love

• Sally setting Grover up for his emotional journey on the quest by making him swear to protect Percy against all monsters/threats that come his way.

• Oh god, it's even more heartwrenching the second time watching Percy watch his mom "die" – the silence that encompasses the moment, all sounds drowning away, the rain so crystal clear on his face, and his eyes... god. so good.

• I love the last scene. The campers' voices coming out of the blackness, the blackness fading into a hazy purple sunset as Percy's vision come to. Annabeth's voice saying "he must be the one,' as she so wants him to be the one that will bring her along on a quest. just the way the framing lands at the end, with the subtle movement of camper silhouettes shifting away and Chiron front and centre, welcoming Percy (and thus the audience) into the world (into the series). Such a good introduction. So, so good.