#because sometimes when I feel like I don’t have strength to hold my pen

[somerandomdudelmao]

@tapakah0

This little bunny means the world to me

[lottiecrabie]

Hey! Super duper random, but how did you get into writing? Your stuff is my absolute favorite and I have some ideas of my own that you inspired tbh. I’m thinking of starting to post on my blog but I don’t even know where to start! Any tips?

tysm! tbh writing has always been something very intrinsic to me. i’ve been writing stories ever since i was old enough to hold a pen, and before that i was rambling them out loud. its just part of who i am. that means i’ve had fifteen whole years to practice my writing! that is unfortunately the best advice i can give you; practice, practice, practice. writing is a muscle and it must be exercised.

for more concrete advice, it’s important to follow an idea and story you personally enjoy. you need to find something that sparks and makes you want to write, or you’ll be unable to finish it. having an interesting idea, loveable characters, and being able to capture the attention of an audience is the most difficult skill for an author to have, yet the most important. even writers you might find lacking— all the most famous smutty romance writers who people might complain about the technique still manage to have this skill few others have, which is why they are bestsellers.

i believe there’s two type of writers; those who write dialogues more easily, and those who favor action. finding what comes easier for you is a great way to exploit your strength and work on your weaknesses. believe or not, i used to be a dialogue writer, yet i’ve worked hard enough on my prose that i think i’m now morse known for that than my dialogues.

if you are a dialogue writer, try to remember to vary the distance between dialogues. i mean that quite literally; when you view dialogues, they shouldn’t all be one after the other, or you might as well write a play. remember to distance with interjections, thoughts, feelings, reactions, descriptions, actions. it doesn’t have to always been a big distance between two exchanges; sometimes, during arguments or particularly vivid teasing, quick, snappy dialogues is the best option. you need to find the perfect rhythm depending on the mood.

if you are more an action writer, i find that prose is the most fun and beautiful thing to write. stylistic choices really give a certain personal vibe to your writing, whether you enjoy prose or not. a dry, direct style gives a personal trademark as well. i think the balance of it is the most important, and something i myself have not even mastered. knowing when adverbs and adjectives are becoming too many, when you’re teetering on purple prose, when you are too much tell and not enough show are all things that you must look out for.

paragraphs are an absolute must. the first thing that makes me exit a story is a lack of paragraph. one idea, one paragraph. following this rule is essential to being coherent and not a terrible struggle for your readers. switching between your speakers is essential too!

in the end, especially in the case of smut, as long as its not boring, you will have people reading. everything else can come with practice, and that is what is very essential. you would not like what i wrote five, four, even two years ago. i do not even like it. but i got there because i wrote, and i kept writing, and i got better. good luck !

[taylorbuggtaylortot]

I can’t even tell you how I feel because I don’t know how to say it without a pen or a page

I can’t even say what I’m thinking cause I’m always thinking of things too late

And all I know is I wanna scream out loud

But I can’t so I push it down

I gotta be alright

Yeah I gotta be okay

I can’t let them know so I push them away

Cause what does it mean if I can’t pour my heart out

I don’t want to be dramatic or misunderstood now

But if I keep it to myself

I can’t deal with all this hell

I know I’m mentally unwell

But I just can’t get help

But I stopped filling the void and I’ve been dealing with my emotions

But I still feel alone

And Wanna mix up all the potions

And I’m too broken to be ready for something like love

And I can’t be myself to the one that I really trust

I thought attention was love but love is respect

And now I have neither

Cause no one here is left

To hold a conversation or listen to the pain

And everyday I feel the same but I still fight for a change

Still Im at the end of my line

I need a shoulder sometimes

I need a friend not a guy

Some one who just doesn’t lie

I wish you would look me in the face and tell me that im safe but I gotta do that for me but right now I feel weak and afraid

Don’t choose now to hold your tongue

I trust you more than anyone

And I’ve been feeling so undone

And though you could be the one

Im sick of playing pretend

I got a whole heart to mend

And im not ready for love but yet my heart don’t listen

I look at you and I see strength to pull me through the day

Please don’t give up on me

I’m tryin to give you some faith

Narcissists will literally be a terrible person and have to deal with the consequences of their actions and still try to paint a picture of why you should feel sorry for them and nurse them back to health, and they say they’re sorry (just like they have a million times without enforcing changed behavior) just to trick you into rescuing them like you used to.

What I want to say to a narcissist:

1) if it’s mother fuck me then it’s mother fuck you

2) if you gonna do you, I’m gonna do me, and trust me honey.. I can do me very well

3) well well well, If it isn’t the consequences of your own actions

4) weird how you actually did terrible things to deserve what you’re dealing with, and I got all that and more even though I stayed doing right by you

5) stay strong like I had to. Keep your composure like I had to. Carry on like I had to. Be alone like I had to.

6) I no longer trust you so giving you any information to aid you in continuing your behavior successfully is off limits because helping you is no longer my concern or business

7) weird how now you’re having to eat the consequences of your actions and you can’t even stomach it. Literally. But when I was getting force fed that shit, it didn’t matter. I was supposed to swallow it down with a smile on my face no matter how much I was dying inside.

8)It’s my turn to not give af about you. You threw all trust and safety that I felt with you out the window, and you expect me to just look at you the same? You have no rights to me or my space. You’re a snake who lies to make themselves look like the victim even though there’s a reason why nobody wants to help you anymore. You don’t truly appreciate the people in your life, they’re props to you in order to alleviate your wants and needs, so you chew them up and spit them out but act like you love them with your whole heart and try to ruin their character behind closed doors. Real life coward shit.

9)When you get caught doing the shit you sorry for, have the same amount of remorse you had while you were doing it.

Yeah, being responsible for making a shitty decision sucks. Yes, you got caught. That must completely and utterly suck for you. You poor poor baby.

Sike…

Swallow that the same way I had to. Only sorry you dealing with repercussions, nothing more; nothing less. Be strong now baby. I’m out.

10)🤡Narcissist Alert🤡

You gonna need me and I ain’t gonna be there. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Just remember: you did that.

[rainbowvamp]

an unsent letter: August, 2022

Do you affect everyone like this, or is it just me? Was I doomed to always be wanting you from the moment we met, or is this a torture of my own devising?

How can you smile at me like that? Touch my hand. Call me your friend. It’s like you’re giving me everything I have ever wanted and I don’t know how to accept it. 

It feels unreal. It feels like a dream. You’re a dream. 

You still haven’t told me your name. I asked and you smiled at me like I’d just done something to amuse you, and then you laughed and asked me what I thought. Answering questions with questions. That’s the sort of thing a devil does, but you’ve already told me you aren’t a devil. What are you? I asked if you were a God and you said that was too lowly to describe your power. What does that even mean? What powers do you have? Would it have killed you to throw me one single bone? Anything at all?

You know, I haven’t written a letter to you in 33 years. Not since 1989. I’ve thought about it, half composed introductions made a thousand times over in moments of spare time, menial tasks, loneliness. I have thought about what I might say to you, how you might feel to learn about the marvels of modern computers, smart houses, queer liberation (do you care about queer liberation? I hope you do.).

I have thought about sharing my world with you time and again, and stopped before pen met paper, stopped before fingers met keyboard, because why should I write a letter you may never see? True, you never see any of my letters, and they’re more for me than they are for you, but there is something about writing you a letter that you’d never see because I’d never see you again that felt too… everything. Too sad. Too final. Too pathetic. 

I was prepared to wait, and I’m glad I did, but there was always the part of me that taunted and teased and told me that you weren’t coming back. I’d outlived my usefulness to you and I was meant to face the rest of eternity alone but for the passing faces of the mortal people I fill my life with.

I love those mortal people, but it was nice to have one person I couldn’t lose.

It is nice. I’m being maudlin. You’re back. I’ve missed you. Even if it’s another hundred years before I see you (I hope it isn’t. Please don’t let it be 100 years) I’m glad you’re back. I don’t know if I believe in God the way he was 1389 or how he is conceived of in 2022. I don’t know what I believe in. But I believe that it is whatever passes for a blessing these days to have just your smile aimed at me. To hear from your own lips the proclamation of our friendship. I feel alight with it. Aflame like the most holy fire warms my chest and mends me, makes me whole again after years of fracturing and chipping and trying to hold the bits of me together.

I could’ve faced eternity alone. But I’ve never wanted to. There was always a part of me that agreed to your deal on the off chance that I’d get to see you again.

I know that originally, you sought my downfall. I could see in your eyes that smugness that spoke of men born high who think themselves better, more knowledgable, than the lowly peasant they are speaking to. 

I wasn’t that far off, then, was I? 

Who are you? Do you know I can still feel your hand on my shoulder, where you touched me and wished me goodnight, hands like stone in temperature, and even in strength, but still with some gentleness that must be learned. I didn’t expect your hand to be so heavy, when you laid it on my shoulder, squeezed it to tell me I would sleep well. I didn’t expect to still feel the contact hours, days, later. The print of your hand has seared itself into my flesh and I am grateful for it. Every time I feel it, I think of you, I’m reminded of you. I remember your smile and your voice and that  laugh when I asked for your name. 

I dreamed of you last night. Felt that touch again. Just the same. The replaying of that moment again and again, same words, same touch, same friend. 

I wish, sometimes, that I had thought to ask for more. A handshake, a hug, a soft touch of lips to cheek or hand like we’re back in the Victorian times. Would you have let me, if I’d asked? I don’t think I’ll ever know, but I can’t help but wonder about it. I’ll always wonder about it. 

As ever, you consume my thoughts, and I wanted only to ask you a question. Maybe I’ll save this one, give it to you in 100 years. 

Thank you for coming to see me, friend.

---

AO3

[ptergwen]

hi I saw your requests were open if there not anymore you can completely ignore this :). but could you do a boyfriend!peter x reader where he loves it when reader gives him those little kisses on his nose and freckles with head scratches please. feel free to change or completely ignore this <3

thousands of tiny stars

pretend i haven’t used this

warnings: a couple suggestive jokes but the rest is just floofy fluff

a/n: i got carried away as per usual and i did end up changing it a tiny bit :/ emphasis on tiny tho lmfhsjfh you’ll see ! either way i hope you enjoy mwah

-

one thing about peter is that he absolutely can’t sit still under any given circumstances. he’s restless, like a burning ball of energy that’s brightness never dims.

because of this, he tries to and needs to keep himself occupied and be kept occupied every second of every day.

it’s sometimes playing with his fingers or your own, which peter prefers because he gets to hold your hand. other times, it’s tapping his favorite pink glitter pen relentlessly against the kitchen table while he conjures up homework answers.

aunt may isn’t very fond of that one.

this time, it’s constantly shuffling about the couch in the name of finding comfort.

peter starts off with an arm around your shoulders and a content grin on his face. you two agreed on mean girls for the first movie of your marathon, your head resting against peter’s chest as the tv steals your attention.

a few minutes in, peter decides he feels like being held rather than holding you. he sneaks his way down your body, lets himself nudge your thighs to wordlessly communicate what he wants. you of course oblige and switch positions accordingly.

peter lays his head in your lap, taking the opportunity to stare up at you instead of at the screen.

he finds himself shifting around again not too much later. now laying on the couch’s armrest on his side, he kicks his feet into your lap where his head just was.

you’re becoming slightly annoyed with his fidgeting. his explanations of sorry, just trying to get comfortable and innocent smiles are what stop you from complaining.

“that’s strike three, parker,” you joke, eyes leaving the movie to fix on him. peter crosses his arms over his chest. “i dunno what you’re talking about, y/l/n,” he insists. “i haven’t done anything remotely strike-worthy so far this evening.”

flicking his sock clad foot, you mutter your response. “debatable.” peter dismisses you with a huff. “whatever. c’mere… i miss you.” he makes grabby hands for you, like the big baby he is.

it’s quite endearing, though.

“i’m right here, pete,” you laugh out and return your gaze to mean girls. “and yet, you’re so far,” peter counters. “come gimme cuddles.”

you sigh lightheartedly, your ever so clingy boyfriend still reaching out for you. a smirk pulls at your lips.

“well, there’s an offer i can’t refuse.”

peter adjusts so he’s sitting criss cross, bouncing excitedly in his spot. his chocolate brown curls fall in all directions, form being swallowed by an oversized stark industries hoodie that he keeps having to roll up the sleeves of.

he looks so soft and snuggly in anticipation of your cuddle session. you can’t believe you were ever annoyed at him.

slightly annoyed.

he’s so eager that when you scoot the tiniest bit towards him, he literally pulls you into his lap. peter’s arms hug you around your lower back, you laughing quietly as he peppers a trail of kisses from your cheek to the side of your neck.

the movie long forgotten about, you wind your arms around his neck and tilt your chin up.

“pete?” you breathe out. peter pecks your cheek once more, then your other, beaming. “yeah, babe?” he wonders. with a half serious half teasing glare, you wonder, “are you comfy now?”

peter ponders your question, and from the skeptical furrowing of his eyebrows and biting of his lip, you have your answer. he’s about to make you regret asking.

it seems that as soon as you settle, peter gets antsy.

“uh, actually…” he strokes his thumb along the underside of your chin, smiling apologetically. “you mind if we lie down? ‘m kinda tired.” there it is. you roll your eyes. “how could you not be? you’ve been playing musical chairs all night.”

your words earn a chuckle from peter, though they’re at his expense. “this’ll be the last round, promise,” peter swears and seals the deal with a kiss to your chin, which is currently grasped between his fingers.

you know it won’t be. the game goes on forever with peter, unless you end it yourself.

“damn right, bug boy. move another inch after this and you can consider your cuddle privileges revoked,” you grumble, getting off of peter’s lap. he stares at you in pure horror, gasping. “you wouldn’t…” “i would,” you correct him.

not aiming to test that theory, peter quickly fumbles around and lays flat against the cushions. he wills himself to be stiff as a board. you seem satisfied with that, climbing on top of him with your face hovering above his.

peter sets his hands on your hips, grip strong. he closes the space between you both with a short kiss. you reciprocate and deepen it, turning short to long as your parted lips slot with his. his tongue darts out, already skimming over your bottom lip for more access.

you hum into his mouth and allow his tongue to slide in. peter kisses you so tenderly as he rubs circles on your hips, your fingers tangling in his locks simultaneously. you weave them up to his roots, using your nails to gently scratch at his scalp just the way he likes. he breaks the kiss to let out a noise close to a moan.

“that- that… oh, god yeah,” peter praises, his eyes fluttering closed. you’re amused at how easily pleased he is. “don’t cream your pants yet, pete. i’m just getting started,” you purr. peter squeezes your hips in response. “feels better than an orgasm, babe. i’m serious, too,” he murmurs.

you continue your handiwork in his hair and lean in for another kiss. peter merely pecks your lips before jerking away.

“wait, hold that thought,” he exhales a breathy laugh. “i gotta pee.”

he has to be kidding. again with this?

“oh no, you don’t,” you deadpan, pushing against his shoulders to hold him down. “oh yes, i do,” peter retorts. “let me go, y/n/n.”

peter could definitely slither out from underneath you if he truly wanted to. he has super strength, so the might of his teenage girlfriend doesn’t quite compare.

pinning him in place, you straddle his waist. “nope, you’re gonna stay. i’m not giving you a choice in the matter.” peter attempts to pry you off of him, but you won’t budge. “y/n, my bladder is gonna explode-“

he cuts himself off with a giggle when your lips begin to attack him. you kiss down the bridge of his nose lightly, peck each freckle dotting his skin, and the amount of them is infinite. peter’s fit of giggles continues as you smooch that pretty face of his, his cheeks dusted pink and hands coming up to support you by your sides.

he’s always been a little insecure about his freckles. they don’t suit him, there are too many of them, blah blah blah. you obviously couldn’t disagree more. you think they’re sick.

you’d once even told him they look like thousands of tiny stars, and peter does love stars. he also loves the kisses you tend to randomly surprise him with to remind him to appreciate his freckles the same way you do.

“okay, okay! i’ll stay!” peter concedes, you ruffling his hair and pressing a final kiss to the tip of his nose. he grins despite himself, and secretly wishes you wouldn’t stop. “but, if my kidneys fail… it’s on you.”

you pat his chest definitively.

“good thing you’re a fast healer.”

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Heavy heart

Steve Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: After the serum, Steve had difficulty with his strength. He could not control it like he could before and it made him afraid to take a woman to his bed in fear he would break them. But then he meets a big-mouthed bartender with a little more cushion for the pushing.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x chubby!Reader / midsized!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warning: Smut

Author’s note: This whole thing is a fever dream. I never write smut and I wrote this thing in a little over an hour. It’s not proofread. Good luck.

After his transformation, things had been easier for Steve but there was one thing that he never liked about being this strong. Nothing normal had weight to him. The first week on the serum he broke several door handles, mugs, pens, you name it. He just couldn’t control it. Then came picking up things. He could easily lift a sofa on his own, pick up a man twice his size by his neck, juggle weights. In the modern world there really wasn’t much that Steve needed to lift anymore. With all Tony’s tech, manual labor became almost obsolete. So much so that Steve sometimes lifted his bed off the ground just because he can. And when it came to dating, Steve didn’t really trust himself. He hadn’t been with a woman before, what if he would break her? What if he’d crush her hips when he grabbed them? What if he’d crush her while he laid on top of her? Most women who approached him looked like Natasha. Slender, beautiful, but without the capabilities that Natasha possesses. They couldn’t hold their own if they tried. Not in the situations Steve got into being an Avenger. But then Natasha brought him into a bar with a sassy bartender that looked like she would crush a man before she’d let him break her and he was smitten. You were just working and being a brat to your regulars.

‘Hey goldie, what can I get ya?’ You throw your towel over your shoulder as you approach the huge man and beautiful ginger by his side. He looks shocked by your casual nature and the nickname you gave him. ‘Ehm, I’ll have a beer please.’ ‘And you gorgeous?’ The ginger smiles seductively and leans forward a little. ‘I’ll have a martini. Make it dirty,’ she tells you. You nod. ‘Wouldn’t have guessed differently. I’ll make that extra dirty for you hot stuff,’ you tell her with seductive energy that matches hers. You put the beer down in front of the man and start making the martini. ‘You’ve been here before, haven’t you,’ the big man asks the woman. ‘Oh, all the time. Y/n and I go way back.’ She crosses her legs as flawlessly as one possibly could on a barstool. You bring her her martini. ‘There you go, sweetheart. First one’s on me,’ you tell her, ‘next one I’ll charge double.’ ‘Of course you would,’ she teases back. The big man sits dumbfound beside her. ‘Oh, Y/n, this is Steve. He’s a friend from work.’ ‘Nice to meet you, Steve.’ You extend your hand over the bar to shake his. He gently takes his hand in yours and you squeeze his hand like a man with something to prove. He only seems more confused as seconds go by. ‘So what’d she promise you?’ His mind automatically jumps to a worst-case scenario. What could Natasha have possibly asked of him to get him here? Did she promise you something? ‘W-what?’ ‘Nat only brings guys here when she wants something from them.’ You wink at him and a soft blush washes over his cheeks. ‘Hey, don’t blow my cover,’ Natasha protests. ‘I didn’t promise him anything. I just thought it’d be nice for you two to meet since I talk about work all the time here.’ ‘Lying doesn’t suit you gorgeous,’ you tell her as you cross your arms. She takes a sip from her martini and shrugs. ‘I didn’t plan anything.’ You raise your eyebrow in question of her integrity. ‘Fine. I thought you and Steve might be a good match.’ You shrug. ‘If you say so, I guess it must be true,’ you tell her, ‘so what about it goldie? Can I take you out for a drink sometime?’

Steve could feel the aftershock of your blunt question for days. He’s sure it showed as well because Natasha kept teasing him about it. But he did say yes and that’s how he ended up on your couch with your thighs on either side of his on a Wednesday evening. Why Wednesday? You’re a bartender, you work weekends. He was fine with it though. However, he is getting a little red in the face. The feeling of your thick thighs and the comforting weight on his lap is the most blissful feeling he could imagine. And for once, he’s not afraid to break a woman. He isn’t even sure if he could break you. ‘You’ve gone quiet on me soldier,’ you comment as you grab his chin to force him to look you in the eyes. He swallows thickly as he sees the grin on your face and the light blush on your cheeks. His hands move on their own and drag up your thighs until they settle on your hips. He studies your face as your mouth goes agape and a small hitch in your breathing makes the most beautiful sound. In return, you roll your hips against the bulge forming in his pants. He groans and almost throws his head back but he manages to keep his eyes on you. You lean forward, pressing your lips on the shell of his ear, and whisper: ‘Tell me what you want.’ He feels your hand sneak under his shirt and your fingers gently run up and down the V on his stomach. A gasp leaves his lips as you roll your hips against him again. His hips snap up on their own to meet your movement and the softest of moans passes your lips. In a strained voice, he tells you: ‘I want you on top of me.’ ‘You’ve got me there. What’s next?’ You softly bite his earlobe and the grip he has on your hips gets stronger as he starts to guide you over his clothed dick. ‘I want to take you on your bed,’ he manages to tell you while you lick the shell of his ear and start to leave kisses down his neck. ‘Then take us there.’ He doesn’t need to hear that twice. In one swift movement, his hands grab your thighs and he stands up with you against him. You quickly wrap your arms around his neck with a yelp. He smiles, knowing he finally got the drop on you. That will probably be the last time tonight and he revels in it. It takes him just a few steps to reach your bedroom and he gently lays you down. You gesture to his shirt: ‘Take it off.’ He happily obliges and pulls it over his head. You do the same in return but double down as you push down your shorts. For a second, you think you’ve lost him as he stands frozen while his eyes take in your body. It’s a vulnerable moment and you’ve struggled with moments like these a lot but at this point of your life, you’re comfortable with the stretch marks and the cellulite. After all, it comes with bigger boobs and a bigger butt. More tushing for the pushing. Steve is in awe of your body and he isn’t afraid to tell you: ‘You are the most stunning woman I have ever seen.’ You chuckle and tell the little voice in your head, that’s screaming he’s just saying that because you’re about to have sex, to shut up. This man could have anyone but he’s here with you. ‘You’re not too bad yourself soldier,’ you tease. ‘Watch your mouth darling, or I might have to shut it with something,’ he teases back in return. He stalks over to you and lays down on the bed next to you. Next thing you know, you’re on top again and you smirk down at him. ‘Darling?’ He nods and you see his expression change from cocky to scared. Probably thought he overstepped a boundary. You lean down, your hands on his waist to keep you steady as you start kissing him. ‘I like that one,’ you tell him in between kisses. His hands roam your body, his thoughts more at ease with your words, and you feel him squeeze and caress every inch of skin he can reach. All while his lips stay on yours. The kiss feels bruising but you’re loving it. You reach behind your back and undo your bra, shrugging it off and tossing it to the side. Steve doesn’t waste any time reaching for your breasts. He worships them like they’re his last breath of air. Your hips move as if they have a mind of their own, chasing a high that’s coming closer and closer each second you grind against the rough fabric of his jeans. ‘Steve, I need you to fuck me.’ You desperately undo his belt and zipper. He helps you push down his pants and his underwear flies off with it. Before you realize what he’s doing, he’s ripped off your panties. ‘Condom?’ You lean over him, your tits in his face, as you reach for the top drawer of your nightstand. Steve takes a nipple in his mouth and you gasp. For a second, you forget about the condom. You just want to sit down on it right here right now, but you decide to be responsible. As you sit back up again, a soft whine comes from Steve who looks sad that he doesn’t have your tits in his face anymore. ‘I’ll put them in your face if you want me to but I gotta get this thing on you first.’ He nods, seemingly satisfied with your words. You take the rubber out of the foil and toss it to the side. You then take a first look at Steve’s dick. It’s long and thick, and surprisingly pretty for a dick. A sudden urge takes over and you press a soft kiss to the tip of it. Steve shudders at the feeling and you watch him suppress a moan through hooded eyes. ‘Please just put it on. I need to feel you.’ It takes less than a second and then you’re lining yourself up to let him inside you. His eyes look fascinated at your body as you sink down on his length. The feeling is wonderful and you tilt your head back as you let out a low moan. Steve encourages you: ‘Yes, just like that darling. That’s beautiful.’ His hands grab your hips roughly as he helps you move slowly while you adjust to the feeling of having him inside your guts. ‘God, Steve, you’re big.’ There’s a twitch of a proud smile on his face and it encouraged him to gently thrust into you. You meet his movements and a snapping sound starts to fill the room as you both start moving faster and faster. Your tits bounce hard and you almost fall over. You steady yourself by putting your hands on Steve’s shoulders. Your legs start to feel like jelly as you bite your lip to suppress a particularly nasty moan. Steve moves faster and harder and you fall into his chest. Steve takes that as his cue to flip you on your back and get on top. He holds himself up on his elbows, his face mere inches from yours. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your nails in his shoulders as he goes to town faster and harder than before. The pleasure in your stomach grows and grows until it comes to a breaking point. ‘Steve, I’m close,’ you whine. ‘I know, let go darling.’ You throw your head back in pleasure and then you snap. All your musles pull you against Steve. You leave stripes on his back and pull yourself so close against him that you’re hanging above the bed. The pulsing of your inner walls tip Steve over the edge as well and he groans loudly as he releases. Then, he lets go and puts his weight on top of you. Both of you are panting and the smell of sex hangs thick in the air. You smile and rub Steve’s back. ‘Thank you, darling.’ A soft chuckle is heard from you. ‘No problem, soldier.’ He then leans up and looks at you with a satisfied smile on his face. Gently, he pushes the hair out of your face and presses a kiss to your lips. ‘You’re really something. You know that, right? Because, if you don’t, I don’t mind proving it to you again. Hell, I’d dedicate my life to proving it to you if I get to stay by your side.’ Now you’re blushing. ‘You don’t even know me that well.’ ‘But I want to get to know you. God, how I want to.’ You crane your neck up and press a kiss on his lips. ‘If you promise to keep fucking me like that, I’ll let you take me out on a date.’ ‘I promise.’

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’a little rude.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously. What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t see it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

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

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

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“You’re late!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not,” she warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

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

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

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

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

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry hums and unclenches it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

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

Lisa smiles.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he exhales.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

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

“Effect?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which part?”

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

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

“You know, so why don’t you?”

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

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

“And what if I don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

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

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.  

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

[pen-observing]

request: lucifer + ‘for what its worth, i really am sorry.’

part of my 1k followers event

Without any shadows of doubt or any shadows of that fear that manages to creep up when reminiscing, you are sure that being content means being right here and right now. Just existing in this moment, sitting behind a mahogany desk with a few scattered papers and three photo frames lined up, while your hands are holding a mug filled with tea that you did not need to make yourself.

This is where reality seems to hit all of us. Behind a desk meant for work that actually has photos of our loved ones – the memories captured in a still image – while overlooking a window with the snow falling.

Any snowflake that chooses to grace the ground below has a story just like any of those people inside the frames. You look away from the window and think about the story behind the first photo.  

May of a few years ago, the day you spent out on a picnic with Luke, Simeon and Solomon. Just remembering how Luke panicked when Solomon pretended that the icing on his cupcakes did not have flower shapes anymore is enough to make you laugh.  

If you remember right – the picnic blanket was actually a gift to you from Lucifer. White and blue – it somehow seemed to fit him more than you now that you think about it but – it is the thought that counts, right?  

Inside of the next photo frame is a moment from one of Diavolo’s parties. The 7 brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos all surrounding you after the moment Beel tried to eat a pillar. You laugh again, your arm is entwined with Lucifer’s right one while his left is grabbing onto Beel’s forearm with such strength you remember feeling bad for him.

Lucifer has always had this grip that draws people in. You remember him telling you that he had to – so many things were depending on him – so many people – even you. Was it an evil thing to depend on him? Maybe in that moment you were starting to get those twisted feelings that had to be discarded and healed.  

Healing felt so long then, but healing seems so quick now.  

You reach for that second photo frame and take out the photo. On the back, in different hand writings and different pens – are short, signed messages from everyone to you where they use your nicknames.

The tea has started to grow cold now but your eyes are still on the back of that photo.   The truth is – you do not use that picnic blanket anymore. Instead, you use a yellow and white one because the lady selling it said yellow is a happy color and makes the outings feel even more positive.   The nicknames, ones they called you by, you hear no longer. You still talk to everyone on those photos, sometimes you meet up with them, but the nicknames don’t come back. You suppose it is fine, somehow time does this thing humans either love or hate, it brings healing through discarding.

You suppose that the only message that hasn’t changed is Lucifer’s. His dark blue fountain pen in cursive writing that says: “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry, Love.”  

That is the one thing that stays. This message signed on the final day you left the Devildom when everyone knew you would not be going back;, stays. Lucifer still repeats the same thing over and over again when you see him on the occasional visits. It is also how he ends phone calls that grow more spaced.

It has been years now. The way he says goodbye remains.  

Finally, you look at the third frame. It is a photo of your wedding day to the person who gives you loving nicknames every day and never goodbyes. It is not with Lucifer. Lucifer has always had problems besides his pride getting in the way of you two. His and your own immaturity, the way everyone depended on him, the differences in loving and hiding and compromise – meant that your relationship had to end.  

You put the photo back in its frame and look towards the window again.  

You suppose that Lucifer is still apologizing in this way because of the hurt he caused in saying he wanted the two of you to part. But, you are content, and your lover is behind you now scolding you for letting the tea go cold. This desk belongs to the two of you, the laughter that fills the rooms as well. Yes, it was meant to be this way. 

On your wedding day, you told Lucifer that you were sorry as well. But, despite the parting, you two took a thing and made it beautiful in the best way you knew how. The beautiful story continues, just without him.

[starglow-xx]

(About the brother!atsushi) aRE YOU READING MY MIND MISS?! Because that has been on my mind for MONTHS. TYSM For writing it was amazing!! If you don't mind, may I request (if requests are open) atsushi, still an older brother, but with a sister that's 10-13 yrs old? It's totally fine if you don't wanna do it. Keep up the good stories, ily mwuah!

*sobs* you’re so kind thank youu 🤧🤧

i wrote this a bit differently i hope that’s okay anon! at first i planned for this to be mainly abt atsushi and the reader, but i decided to add in relationship hcs with the agency bc i ran out of ideas

if you guys liked this don’t worry! im planning a special part two for this one so be the look out for it hehe

atsushi with a tween! sister

ft. the armed detective agency

like in my baby sister hcs, you’re still the most important thing to him period

the two of you got picked up by dazai and kunikida when he was 18 (obviously) and when you were 12

for a 12 year old, you were a bit small bc of malnourishment (which makes atsushi feel so bad) so both dazai and kunikida thought you were a bit younger than you actually were

they assumed you were about 9-10ish

you and atsushi both share a favorite food !! chazuke :)

so when kunikida treated the two of you, he made sure you got more bowls bc like i mentioned above, he feels really bad that you were malnourished and under weight

(don’t bring this up but kunikida felt bad too hehe)

when dazai went with your brother to the warehouse, you were with kunikida

imagine the surprise of the other ada members when kunikida came in with a little girl dressed in rags that popped out from behind him

kenji was the one who vocalized his thoughts 

“kunikida-san you have a daughter?! wow! i didn’t know that! :D”

when you found out your brother was a tiger, you were a bit concerned but you were actually kind of excited

you were even more excited when you found out the two of you were going to be taken in by the agency

anything was better than the stupid orphanage

and besides!

you got a tiger for an older brother and a bunch of other super powered agents to take care of you! who could want anything else?

at your age, you’re very impressionable and can be influenced easily so atsushi makes sure to teach you more in depth of good morals and the importance of kindness

his heart swells with pride and relief when he catches you being kind to others

pride bc he’s proud that even after all the two of you have gone through, you still ended up being a good kid and having a bright view of the world

and relief bc he hasn’t failed as a big brother

pfftt like he could ever fail

but please, from time to time reassure him that he’s perfect and the only big brother that you’d ever want bc he rlly needs that kind of validation

with his salary and savings, he tries to buy nice things for you

what a sweetheart 🥺

he saw you eyeing that one dress at a store window? fast forward abt a week and half and it’s inside a pretty gift bag for you

you wanted to try that dessert from the nice bakery? that’s dessert after dinner at one point

but other than buying you things, he sets money aside for you

like all the time

(y/n), here have this, you might need it”

“but nii-san you just gave me—”

“take it”

#1 spoiler

also your #1 confidant and source of physical affection

you tell him anything and everything (except crushies and those kinds of things)

atsushi loves it when you talk abt your day and he can see the big smile on your face and the sparkle in your eyes

it gives him the strength to keep going 😖😖

the two of you aren’t as touch starved as you’d probably think, but that’s only bc the two of you had each other

in your opinion, no one can match the hugs of your big brother

and it got even better bc YAYY he has tiger arms now ٩(◕‿◕)۶

if you ask, he’d carry you around too hehe

you also get nightmares quite often so he’ll always be there ready to calm you down, talk if you need to, and rock you back to sleep

god i love him 🤧🤧

atsushi will do everything in his power to protect you and make sure you get to grow up happy, supported, and loved

port mafia attack? oop he’s already taking you to the nearest escape route

someone is starting to harass you? they just got suckered punched into the next week

you want to go out to have some fun? he’ll go ask the president for a day off

you’re not feeling well? he’ll take another day off and take care of you

whatever you want to do, he’ll do it with you! (as long as it’s within reason)

will always be your #1 supporter! and he’s the president of your fan club hehe

he loves you so so much and will do anything for you; your life and happiness will always be more important to him

you are his reason to keep going

agency head canons !!

atsushi is your big brother, but kunikida is most definitely some sort of father figure

everyone can see it

except kunikida of course

kunikida scolds you lightly if he thinks your manners need work or if you make a mess in the agency

you listen to him of course and in turn as some sort of a reward, he’ll give you pieces of stationary

he always gives you the nice, good quality kind and you’re over the moon

atsushi adores it when you come running to him showing your new notebook or fountain pen and blabbering what you’re going to do with it

sometimes it isn’t even as a reward for being a good child; he’ll just give it to you and he’ll say smth like “i noticed you’ve used up your last notebook quite quickly, so here’s another one” or “did you run out of ink? here have this then”

he usually has a soft spot for children in general, but he most definitely has a soft spot (or a thousand) for you

yosano is kind of like a motherly figure to you

she gives you the guidance a mother should and goes on shopping trips with you!

atsushi always gets dragged along by you, but he thinks it’s worth it seeing you look so happy

yosano being a doctor also tries to teach the things you should know, or things that would be helpful to you

she’ll teach you the basics of cooking, sewing, how to treat a cold/fever, etc

also gives you excellent advice 1000% of the time

“remember (y/n)-chan if someone hurts you come tell me and then i’ll chop them into—”

“yOSANO-SENSEI DONT TELL HER THAT—”

fukuzawa is like a father to most in the agency but you see him more as a grandfather figure

bi weekly tea and gossip sessions hehe

along with cat talk!

most of the time though, it’s just you talking and him listening to you, but the two of you enjoy it nonetheless

“and then kunikida-san ended up crashing into a pole and dazai-san started to laugh at him and i did too because it was really funny but we ended up getting scolded—”

“hmm i see...”

he’ll let you stay in his office as he fills out paperwork; you’re usually doodling or drawing in your notebooks

sometimes he’ll meditate and you’ll join him, but 4/7 times you’d fall asleep

you always wake up with a blanket over you

dazai is like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

frequently takes you out with him when he ditches work

walks in the park, eating at uzumaki so he has the excuse of treating you so he doesn’t have to pay his tab avoiding kunikida and sometimes chuuya and akutagawa, all that fun stuff

also tries to not talk abt suicide in front of you especially if it’s just the two of you alone

he knows that you mean the world to his pupil and that said pupil would probably hate him for putting suicide inside your brain

he teaches you random but useful things like how to pick a lock, how to steal kunikida’s notebook if you’re looking for some information, how to sweet talk your way out of things, etc.

is also the one to tell you that if you ever get a significant other to introduce them to the agency first

he always wants all of your gossip; some of them work pretty well for blackmail

“dazai-san! dazai-san! did you know that kunikida-san lost his glasses and he was looking for them for nearly an hour when he was just holding them the entire time??”

“woah really (y/n)-chan?! hey hey can you say it again into this recording device so kunikida-kun would believe me when i tell him—”

always ends up giving kunikida a heart attack when he says that you’ve been with him all day

ranpo is also like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

will share some of his snacks, but don’t push it or you might not get anything at all

loves it when you compliment him

if you tagged along with him and your brother on a case, he will show off to impress you

“...and that’s how the crime happened”

“UWAHH RANPO-SAN YOU’RE SO COOL”

atsushi is lowkey and kunikida is highkey stressed that ranpo’s eating habits will rub off on you

“ne (y/n)-chan do you wanna try this highly caffeinated drink and this concerning amount of sugar filled snack?”

“can i really?!”

“rANPO-SAN NO—”

ranpo definitely does stuff like that on purpose 

the tanizakis are like siblings to you!

a weird set of siblings but siblings nonetheless

the two of them adore you and think you’re precious

atsushi definitely knows how to do your hair whether it’s long or short but he got even better at it when he asked the two

hehe braid trains are definitely a thing + kyouka and kenji (and maybe even dazai)

sometimes you have sibling swap days

you’re with junichiro for most of the day and atsushi is with naomi

strange i know

each of the tanizaki siblings try to make it fun bc they know that the two of you did not at all have a happy upbringing

junichiro likes spending time with you by taking you out to different places that naomi likes to frequent

like the mall, different stores and restaurants, the park, places like those

naomi does the same thing with atsushi so if you ever bump into them, you go out and eat together :)

besides atsushi, the next one in line who spoils you the most would be junichiro (and yosano & kunikida both coming in at a close third)

he honestly can’t help it; you remind him of how naomi was when she was younger

and besides

he’s always been a sucker when it came to the happiness of a little sister

“would you really buy this for me junichiro-san?!”

“of course! don’t worry about it” :)

wanna talk abt boys/girls/celebrity crushes things like that? naomi is your girl

you feel a bit embarrassed to go talking to yosano or your brother abt that and kyouka does not know a thing abt them either

“uwahh naomi-san look at all these people in this magazine! they look so good!”

“right?! but of course onii-sama is still the best—”

you get along with kenji and kyouka quite nicely being roughly the same age as them; they’re also like siblings!

just pure, wholesome vibes from the three of you

you’re over the moon when she finds out that kyouka is staying with you and your brother

atsushi is twice as happy seeing you talk your mouth off and finally having a girl around your age to talk to

“do you think demon snow can change how she looks?”

“hmm... im not sure...”

you and kenji talk abt anything and everything

he even teaches you how to take care of plants!

sometimes the two of you are kind of in the same boat bc you don’t know much abt yokohoma being stuck in the orphanage and kenji doesn’t know much abt cities in general

“wait where are we again kenji-san?”

“ah we’re close to the ports! but im not really sure how close because i don’t know what the symbols on this sign mean”

“don’t worry! neither do i!”

bonus things!

yosano was kind of too late teaching you abt you know what

“NII-SAN IM BLEEDING IN BETWEEN MY LEGS”

you’re sobbing in the agency’s bathroom and atsushi is panicking trying to get you to open the door

“Y/N?! H-HOLD ON LET ME GET YOSANO SENSEI”

ranpo overhears and cackles making everyone around him confused

suddenly atsushi bursts in the agency basically on the verge of tears rambling incoherent sentences abt the bathroom, you, and blood

it just clicked for everybody in the room

(im going to pretend that kenji has sisters back home so that atsushi is the only one who remain oblivious here hehe)

atsushi is genuinely confused and sort of concerned that no one is freaking out with him

yosano waves her hand saying smth like that she’d take care of it and junichiro pulls atsushi to the side to talk to him

fast forward like half and hour and dazai and ranpo are cackling on the looks of both of your faces

honestly not sure who’s more traumatized, you or your brother

“why does this have to happen” :(

“ne ne (y/n)-chan!~ you’re too young but at some point you’re not going to have it!”

“uwahh really dazai-san?” :D

“yeah! but first you have to have ANFK—”

next thing you know your ears are being covered by your brother and dazai is thrown across the room by kunikida

you know

the normal

you’re twelve and have never gone to school, but the agency takes care of that

it’s too dangerous to go to school so they teach you what’s necessary and whatever else they can

kunikida takes care of math (obviously)

yosano takes care of science/biology/anatomy/health (whatever you wanna call it)

ranpo even dragged poe to help you with english

atsushi even got lucy to help you out with english too!

as tanizaki and naomi used to be students, they give you their old work books and they try to teach you all the other subjects

sometimes kyouka and kenji are there learing with you too!

sorry if there’s some errors! i’ll read through it again later :)

and as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

[sekceesimps]

Dying Light (a yandere Zhongli x reader oneshot)

summary: Zhongli comes to claim his darling after she fails to fulfill her end of the contract 

a/n I wish I could say this was requested but I love this man too much. Writing this one had me feeling some kind of way… Hope you all enjoy and leave some requests (pls do yandere Genshin 🤧 smh)! 

Sincerely Coffee

His dark hair shines vividly in the solemn moonlight. Amber eyes radiant, like the purest of diamonds, and fixated right on you. You stand before him and try to subtly shrink away under his piercing gaze. The candles in the room flicker from some gusts of wind coming in. Zhongli seems stiff and at attention, but at the same time far away, lost in thought. Your light and unconscious movement backwards out of fear, unnoticed by you, immediately snapped the archon’s thoughts back to you. 

A ghost of a smile begins to dance its way onto his handsome face, a stark difference to the dangerous threats he had whispered into your ear just moments ago. The light gave him an eerie appearance. 

“Darling Y/N, I’m afraid that you didn’t uphold your end of the bargain,” he frowned and cocked his head mockingly. You step backwards some more until your back hits the wall of the funeral parlor. He has a predatory gaze now as he steps forward and pins a hand on the surface next to your head. He leans forward to further take in your panic. It brought him distress to see that you weren’t comfortable around him. 

“I’m sure you were a good girl and read the fine print. Surely you must be aware that at the end of our contract, if it was that you couldn’t fulfill your end of the deal, then you must join the greatest contract of all time with me?” he continues and runs another hand hand teasingly down your jaw. 

“Perhaps you could entertain me and tell me what that greatest contract is?” you ask hesitantly. Beginning to feel the gravity of the situation as you notice the way the archon caresses you and looks at you with eyes filled with a dangerous sort of adoration. 

“Oh Y/N, you’ve been bad, I thought you understood everything when you signed. I mean marriage of course,” he answered gleefully, eyes sparkling with affection and excitement at your shocked expression. 

Yes, just when did this feeling for you begin, he had pondered to himself. There was no mistaking that these emotions he felt for you were love. He was sure that you also loved him, so why did you look so afraid? He would show you again how perfect the two of you are. 

- - - 

Zhongli is not one to break his word. He is the archon of contracts after all. When you had approached him, as Rex Lapis, a few months ago he had decided to learn much more about you.  

You were an interesting mortal and had almost immediately caught the God’s attention. The geo archon had taken to shying away from the affairs of humans over the last hundred years or two. However he tended to make exceptions for interesting people with even more interesting requests. 

“I’d like to ask for some help,” your melodic voice said, breaking the silence in Rex Lapis’s abode. “If that means signing into a contract with you, then I accept,”

He appeared near you in an instant, “Even if that means not getting the best deal?” he asks, startling you slightly. 

“Yes,” you breathe out lightly. 

“Hmm, you’ve caught my interest,” he responds, putting a hand to his chin, as if he was thinking long and hard about a potential deal with you, “do go on with what you need my help for” he finishes. Of course, he already knew what you needed. He had been watching you for quite a while, but he loved hearing your voice and being near you for once. 

“I need to find someone and I can’t do it by myself. Could you please lend me your strength and assistance as I look for this person” you practically begged him. Oh how he wanted to hear your begging in a different context. It was taking everything within him to not tug you by your hair and bring you to his side forever by force. He knew that you probably wouldn’t appreciate that and he still had to do his job and draft a contract. That is when the idea had struck him to skillfully find a way to keep you with him forever. 

“Very well, let us start writing up a contract then,” he pronounces with a tone of disinterest, secretly preening with joy on the inside. You perk up and smile largely at him, it brought him satisfaction knowing that he made you feel like that. 

“Alright that should be everything,” he finishes and removes his quill from the scroll. “I will come to you whenever you need help, all you must do is call out my name. As for my benefit, all you need to do is find this person you hold dear and that will be enough for me. You have the next 70 days to complete this, of course there will be a punishment if you can’t fulfill your end. However I have the most faith in your skills.” you nod at him in confirmation as you take the pen from him and leave a scrawling signature on the paper. A glowing binding tying you to the archon, prompting you to blush at how close the two of you were now. “Don’t disappoint me, Y/N'' he whispered and let you leave his abode with a smile. The first step in his plan to make you his was finished. Time to wait for your inevitable failure. 

Now he wasn’t going to actively make you fail, he still was true to his job and bound himself to you so that you could call him for help. He would still assist you as well. However, he agreed to what you wanted because he knew the task itself was impossible. This brother you were looking for was long gone for sure, he made sure of that before he signed on to your contract. He couldn’t wait for when the two of you would finally be spending the next few weeks together. 

 Zhongli was smart about the way he conducted himself around you. He was careful not to give you any hints of his true intentions. Sometimes though there would be foolish people who pushed him. Whenever he saw you talking with, brushing arms with, or giving attention to others, the archon would be fuming. Of course, he would let it simmer, playing for the long game instead. It never failed to make him angry and anxious that these insignificant mortals thought they had a change with his future wife, it caused him to let out a tsch in annoyance. 

The two of you had wonderful moments in your quest. Your ability to work well together in battle allowed for quick defeats of random hilichurls on the journey. Truly your skills were something he admired and loved about you. 

The first night you left a parting goodnight kiss on his cheek was what made him truly believe in life again. Your warm lips against his skin ignited a flame within him that he didn’t know he yearned to have lit.  It began to become a sort of tradition between you two for the next months. 

 His favorite moment with you by far was when the two of you had been drinking and you allowed him to come into your bed. Now, not in THAT way. You didn’t like how he had been sleeping on the ground whenever you spent the night in a tavern so you told him to just sleep in the bed with you. It had been an awkward fit at first due to his taller frame. His long limbs were cramped painfully so you let him wrap his arms carefully around your body. Both of you take in and are intoxicated by the other’s warmth. He could get used to the way you faced him and nuzzled your face into his neck. He had fallen asleep and had the most wonderful rest for the first time in a while. 

After the two of you woke up and cuddled in the morning, “Should the day ever come where we are not together, you will continue to shine like gold in my memories” he had smiled and gently taken your hand into his own as he brushed his lips softly against your knuckles. His words and soft actions prompting a light blush across your face. 

He didn’t know how much longer he could wait for you. Every moment he was with you, but not truly in the way he desired wound him up more and more. He knew he would snap very soon. 

- - - 

You tremble against the cold breeze and his warm touch as he leans closer to you and captures your warm lips with his own in a passionate kiss. His hands traveling down further onto your flushed skin. 

Now that you were his in an unbreakable bond, he finally felt at ease. With you, Zhongli felt at home for the first time in thousands of years. He would protect you from any and all threats. If it meant keeping you safe with him, then he would tear apart all of Teyvat. After all, you belonged to this archon now. 

As the sun begins to rise, you notice the dying light within the parlor, fading candles leaving behind a darker atmosphere. A perfect metaphor you think, if he kept touching you like this then you knew that your own resolve would also die out, completely accepting the ownership that he had over you. 

Zhongli notices your wandering gaze before he takes your face between his slender fingers and forces you to look up at him. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten how much you mean to me. Let me remind you,” he announces as he lifts you up and brings you towards his room. Indeed, he would be spending the next few hours reminding you of his love, before you embark on the next chapter of your lives together, courtesy of his subclause turning you into an adeptus in addition to being his wife forever more. He had all the time in the world to get you to comply and love him as dearly as he loves you.

a/n why am I so in love with this man 🧎‍♀️

[dreamsoflevi]

Love Was Not Enough | Part 1

Summary: A titan shifter is working in the Scout Regiment with a plan. Growing up with hate for Paradis takes a complete turn when falling for a certain Captain and developing friendships. Is it too late to make a change?

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Some fluff, angst, mentions of violence, description of an emotional breakdown, stress.

Author’s Note: My first post on Tumblr! I’m so slow when it comes to using Tumblr lol. Starting off with an angsty story because it's raining and gloomy. It was supposed to be an one-shot but it ended up being super long. There will be 1-2 more parts. Hope you enjoy! ♡

You loved him.

You really did.

You still do.

When you first met him, you were surprised this was the person everyone was referring to when they would mention Humanity's strongest soldier, Captain Levi. His aloof and brash attitude would prove those thoughts drilled in your head about the devils in disguise living amongst the lands as you. He didn't care for anything and he wouldn’t hesitate to remind you of that. “You will become titan shit.” His exact words spat to your face. Who does he think he is?

You were exceptional at what you did, full of intellect and skills landed you on his squad along with a group of newer cadets. The 104th cadets. You were all replacements for his previous squad who were killed by the female titan, your comrade Annie during the 57th expedition. You were trained for this after all. You were prepared and you had a plan along with a few others. Secret glances, nods, and meetings were shared amongst you four any chance you could get.

You ended up befriending a few too. A shy yet wise Armin, an extremely passionate Eren, a wild and resourceful Sasha, and some others. A bunch of children putting their lives on the line for a better tomorrow, a hopeful future. Aren’t you doing the same too?

During expeditions, you would watch Captain Levi swinging through trees on his ODM gear, slicing through the napes of every titan he landed his eyes on. Now you understand why he is humanity’s strongest. Slicing through titans without a struggle and with immense strength and speed.

He'd frantically look around making sure the others were okay. He'd shout the names of his squad and any other names he could remember hoping to get a shout in return. The panicked look on this face when he would hear screams and race to the source of them. Maybe he does care. When returning to the walls, you could see him grimace watching the gates open only for it to quickly change back to his normal neutral expression.

-

“L/N!” A voice breaking your thoughts as you walk back inside the headquarters after training. You turn around to see Captain Levi standing behind you with a small stack of papers in his hand.

“Yes, Captain?” You wiped the sweat off your forehead with your sleeve.

“Are you doing anything after this?”

You shook your head. “No, sir. Do you need anything?”

“Yes. Deliver this paperwork to Commander Erwin. He should be in his office now.” He handed you the small stack of papers he was holding.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded your head grabbing the papers and walking in the direction of Commander Erwin’s office.

Approaching his office, you knocked on his door. You heard a deep voice respond and turned the knob to enter. Opening the door, you see the distressed Commander sitting at his desk. One hand resting on his forehead and the other scribbling away. He glances up and sees the stack in your hands.

“Ah, thank you (Y/N), I was waiting for these.” Raising his hand in anticipation of the papers.

You walked up to his desk handing it to him. “No problem, Commander.”

You look around his messy desk. Papers spread all around, empty teacups resting on the side, and two ink bottles sitting on his desk. Your eyes take a peek at his face, dark circles under his eyes, and his hair slightly messed up. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him. No. You try shaking those thoughts away. They are the devils and we are paying for their actions.

But you take another look at him. Imagine being in his position. Are you aware of what your ancestors did, Commander? He’s shuffling through the small stack of papers that were just handed to him. You can see the squares and circles in the form of a large triangle. The formations. The lives and the future of thousands rest upon this single man’s shoulders. Of course, he has to spend hours on end meticulously planning the expeditions and making sure the formations are properly formed. A plan for a better tomorrow, a hopeful future. Don’t you want that too?

You internally sigh in defeat. “Um... Commander?” You nervously play with your fingers.

“Yes, (Y/N)?” He looks up at you, hand still holding the quill and the other now resting on the desk.

“Do.. do you need help? I just finished training and If you need help, I…” You bite your lip, your nerves getting the best of you as his eyes remain in contact with yours.

The curves of his mouth turn upwards. “If you can, please.” He gestures to the seat in front of him.

You flash him a smile, nod your head and take a seat. He hands you a stack of papers. “For these, you just need to write today’s date under the line where it says date received. Then organize them alphabetically.”

That’s where you found yourself at least twice a week. Helping the commander out whenever you could, organizing his paperwork, and filling them out whenever he needed you to. Sometimes you would work in complete silence. The sounds of pens scribbling, paper shuffling, and the sips the Commander took of his tea. Sometimes he would tell you a little story about his life and of his childhood. He would speak of his father being a major inspiration in his life and the reason he pushes forward every day. He had a sudden death, though the Commander never told you why, you can imagine it was a traumatic one for him.

A couple of months pass by and you are now sitting in the Captain's office. Coming into Commander’s office one day and seeing his surprisingly organized desk for once and him telling you that he didn’t need any assistance today. However, Captain Levi might need help with the reports from a previous expedition. Nodding your head and giving a quick salute, you made your way to Captain Levi’s office.

Working with Captain Levi was soothing. His office was very neat. Paperwork in his office sitting on his desk in organized piles. You can smell the faint scent of lemon which was refreshing. You visiting his office became a more frequent occurrence since he appreciated the assistance he would receive though he’d never tell you that. He would have a stack ready for you set up on the side table in his office. He was not much of a talker like Commander Erwin nor was he someone who reminisces his life it seems.

However, you would still have conversations here and there. He would ask about how you were feeling with training and if you dared to complain about the exercises he was giving, he would simply tell you to get better with the exercises or get eaten. Then realizing his bluntness and the silence that filled the room after, he would elaborate on his statement.

What he means is, he would say, these exercises help with increasing stamina and balance that will aid us on the battlefield. Outside the walls, anything can happen. Titans pop out of nowhere catching you off guard and little mishaps like getting tangled, being too slow, or even aiming your anchor wrong can lead to a fatal mistake. You could agree with that.

“(L/n), why did you decide to join the scouts?” He asked without looking up from what he was doing.

You stilled for a second and looked up at him. His eyes were still on the paper in front of him. This question always catches you off guard even if you rehearsed it so many times. It makes you nervous and vulnerable as if the person asking can see right through you and your facade.

“Same reason as everyone else, sir.” He glanced at you now and you immediately looked back down at the paper in front of you. You tried to avoid as much eye contact as you can.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“F-freedom.. from the titans.” You heard a scoff.

“Now you sound like Eren.” He was still looking at you. You dared to meet your eyes with his. He still had a stoic look on his face but there was curiosity simmering in his eyes. He was waiting for an answer. You had no choice but to give one. How would you say it though? You don’t want to lie. Captain Levi can be very perceptive and you’re sure he could see through your facade.

You bit your lip. “I… I want a better future for myself, my loved ones, and future generations. All my life, I’ve experienced confinement and.. oppression. But I have been given the power- er, the opportunity I should say to aid in defeating our e-enemies and... and I hope to accomplish that to live a more liberating life.”

He remained in eye contact with you without saying anything. The silence was deafening in the room and you hoped he would say something. Each second of silence was building the temperature in your body as your nerves were starting to get the best of you. Your chest was burning and you could feel a bit of sweat forming on your scalp. Did you say the wrong thing? Or maybe you said too much? Why isn’t he saying anything?

Your lips parted in anticipation to say something. But what else were you going to say? Before you can process what you are going to say, he hummed and looked back down at his work.

“You are right. We all have the same reason, more or less. To break out of these confined and oppressive walls and defeat these shitty titans. Whatever is out there must be better than what we live in now.”

You internally sighed. It’s not better but hopefully, it will get better. I guess we have the same mission, just different targets. You and everyone else here being mine Captain. You felt your throat dry up. Can you imagine killing these people? Watching Captain struggling on his last breath? Commander Erwin? Hange? Connie, Sasha, Jean, Armin? But your ancestors... Now you are suffering because of these devils.

Shaking your head of these thoughts, you try to focus back on the paper in front of you. “Ar-” You cleared your throat. “Armin believes there’s a sea out there.”

He snorted. “That kid and his shitty dream...” You could see a hint of a smile forming on his face. “Who knows, maybe there is.”

You come to realize that he’s not rude, he just doesn’t know how to express himself. His actions speak louder than words and you can’t help but grow a lot of respect for him. But he’s still a devil. But he has a heart and he cares for every single person in this regiment, including you. It doesn’t matter. They caused your people pain and betrayed them.

-

A perk of being on Captain Levi’s squad is getting to sit on meetings planning the expeditions. Commander Erwin would call these meetings for input on observations made from previous missions. Armin enthusiastically shares what he learns from the missions. Plans are being formed around Eren and his abilities. He’s learning new things about what he can do every day and recently he learned about hardening abilities from Annie. Working with Hange to train how to harden properly to be able to plug walls in the future.

They have no idea though. No idea what is beyond these walls, where these titans come from, where do they go, or anything else. They are risking their lives for the answers, the answers that you already know.

Walking through the dark hallways, you step into the mess hall. There sitting on a table in the dimly lit corner were Reiner and Bertholdt. The ones on the mission with you alongside Annie.

“Where have you been lately?” Reiner asked as you sat down on the bench. You usually had these meetings at least once or twice a week, but since Annie was captured, things have gotten more hectic. In fear of getting caught or being busy with so many tasks, you haven’t had the chance to meet with them as often as you should.

“Sorry.. I’ve just been swamped with training, meetings, and helping the higher-ups with their paperwork.”

Reiner narrows his eyes at you. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with them lately.”

“Yeah but I’ve managed to learn a few things.”

“Like what?”

“Well, Eren is close to figuring out his hardening abilities. Hange had taken the sample from Annie but she didn’t get far with that. Now she and Eren are working together to see how Eren can unlock his own ability.”

Reiner hummed. “If Eren learns how to harden, he could start landing attacks on me. He’d still be no match for Bertholdt though.”

You nodded in response. There was an awkward silence. No one had much to say which was a huge difference from before when you had to plot your next moves and practice your stories together. Usually, Reiner was the one who would come up with the plans and assign tasks to the rest of you three. This was before the fight between Eren and Annie. You didn’t expect Annie to lock herself into the crystal.

You looked at Reiner who seemed to be deep in thought. “What are you thinking?”

He sighed. “I think another attack is coming soon.”

Bertholdt and your eyes widen. “Are you sure? Isn’t it a little too quick, Reiner?” Bertholdt wearily asks. You nod your head in agreement.

“They already have Annie. We need to get Eren and try to get Annie out of there as well.”

“Yes!” Bertholdt interjects. “We do need to save Annie.” Bertholdt always had a soft spot for Annie. You have an inkling he has a crush on her because he gets flustered and avoids the topic every time it’s brought up.

You don’t know if you’re ready for another attack. The last one was devastating. The fight between Eren and Annie destroyed so many homes and lost lives. Children losing their parents, parents losing their children, lovers lost… It is heartbreaking. You don’t know if you can stomach another attack at this point. What are you saying? That is what you’re here for. You need to do this for your people back home. You let out a long exhale and close your eyes.

“It bothers you too, doesn’t it?” You open your eyes to Bertholdt looking at you.

“They are people… just like us.”

You nod your head meekly. “Just like us.” You repeated in a whisper.

Reiner sighs. “And they have no clue what is happening.”

“No clue.” You and Bertholdt breathe simultaneously. You three sit in silence, all three of you lost in your own thoughts. Why did it have to be us?

-

During training you noticed Captain Levi limping a little more than usual. Since the 57th expedition, his leg has been in bad shape. He still supervises your training and some days, he can walk properly and some days he’s limping. You turn back to your task at hand, slicing through the titan dummies set up.

“(Y/n)! Straighten your back!” He yells from the field and you obey, straightening your back while you and Connie swing to the titan dummy.

“Oi Sasha! You have to aim your anchors a bit higher!”

“Mikasa, don't go too fast!”

The comments usually went like that for the entire training session. Watching all of you train and critique your performances. You’re not going to lie, it was a pain in the ass. But you noticed it does help you outside of the walls. Captain Levi is good at what he does. He’s perceptive and knows exactly what to do and when. He is a natural titan killer. Being able to take down small to abnormal and maybe even ones like you. After you were done, you all were panting and sweating while walking back to the field.

“Phew! That was some training today,” Connie wiped the sweat off of his forehead.

Jean clicked his tongue. “That was nothing! Probably too much for you right Yeager?” He smirked at Eren.

Eren rolled his eyes. “You wish, Jean boy. That’s why you’re drenched in sweat.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

You all groaned as Eren and Jean started arguing for the fifth time today. The first two times Armin tried to interject to try and diffuse the argument but at this point, even he gave up.

“You’re on Yeager. After dinner, we’ll have an arm wrestling match.”

“After dinner,” Eren confirmed. “Don’t horse around Kirstein.”

“Shut up titan freak.”

“Are you ladies done bickering?” Captain Levi glared at them with his arms crossed. Eren clicked his tongue and Jean muttered under his breath. Captain narrowed his eyes at them, a warning to fix their attitudes. They immediately straightened their backs.

“Yes sir!” A few of you silently giggled watching them get scolded by Captain Levi.

Watching them with a smile, you loved the banter between Eren and Jean. Despite the arguments, you know deep down they have respect and admiration for one another. It’s distinctly shown during battle when they are looking out for another. Even during Eren’s fits of rage, Jean is understanding and never attacks Eren for his impulsive decisions. He might get a little bit of teasing though.

They were very friendly with you too. Always giving you a pat on the back or a cheesy grin whenever they see you. Looking back at you when riding through the gates to make sure you’re okay or screaming your name to make sure you are fine when fighting titans. And let’s not forget Jean’s flirty nature. His love for Mikasa is strong but he can’t help it when he sees any walking and breathing female. Just kidding. He’s not that girl crazy.. maybe. It’s too soon to decide that.

I think another attack is coming soon. You heard Reiner’s voice suddenly appeared in your mind. You suddenly started feeling a bit nauseous. Another attack on these people. These people you are considering your friends. You felt the salty taste in the back of your throat. Trying to calm your nerves, you took some deep quiet breaths. It wasn’t helping. It was getting harder to swallow with your throat tightening. You silently walked back hoping no one starts a conversation with you. As soon as you get back, you were planning on taking a very, very cold shower.

Grabbing your clothes, you ran into the showers. Breathing hard and with shaking hands, you turned the shower knob. The cold water hitting you and startling you for the first few seconds. You can’t. You can. You can’t. You have to. But these people, you can’t do that to them now. Not when they are just started to grow on you. They were normal people with normal feelings. They’re not… devils? Yes, they are.

You remember the attack in Trost. The chaos that spread through the walls. These same cadets hopelessly try to fight the titans. You were all newly graduated. Thomas getting eaten by a titan. Screams and cries filled your ears along with the sounds of loud thumps and bone-crunching.

When you were discussing things with Reiner, Bertholdt, and Annie, poor Marco being in the wrong place at the wrong time. How devastated Jean was losing his best friend and not knowing ultimately it was you three that led to his death. Not only his but everyone else’s. The way Armin looked when Eren sacrificed himself to save him.

Can you do this again?

A sob escaped from your throat. Tears flew down your cheeks getting mixed in with the water. You are no different than them, aren't you? The blood of these innocent lives on your hands. But they were the reason for all this, no? Except they don’t know. Is it justifiable blaming them for something that happened so many years ago? While you are oppressed by the Marleyeans, they are oppressed by these titans. Aren’t you any different from the Marleyans then? Punishing innocent people for things out of their control?

Leaning your head on the tiled wall, you needed to make a decision. Whose side are you on? No, whose side do you want to be on? Do you want to continue the same treatment you received? Do you want to be the reason a child loses their mother? Their father? You need to make a decision and make it quick. You grabbed the soap bar and cleaned yourself off. You will make a decision. You just need time.

After your shower, you remembered you were going to go to Captain Levi’s office to help him with his paperwork. You also remembered how he was limping badly today. Before going into his office, you decided to make a trip to the infirmary.

Asking the nurses for some balm for Captain Levi’s leg, you grabbed a small jar and made your way to his office. What’s the reason for this? Are you trying to relieve some of the guilt eating away at your conscience?

Entering his office, he offered a small greeting before pointing to the paperwork that needed to be done today. Before getting seated at the table, you walked over to his desk and held out the small jar. With an eyebrow raised, he looked at the jar in your hand.

“It’s for your leg. You were limping today and I thought this might help sir.”

He took the jar from your hand. The curves of his mouth turned upward, not enough to call it a smile since he hardly ever did. “Thank you.”

Thank you. You felt your heart flutter. You barely hear words of acknowledgment from him and you can’t help but feel happy that you were on the receiving end of them. So what? Why do you care? Because you do admire him. After all, he was your Captain and you respect him. And he is looking nicer than usual in his black suit and cravat. What? Are you okay? You’re just acknowledging his looks. It means nothing-

Wait, he said thank you. You need to answer him instead of disputing with your own self.

“It’s no problem.” You smiled at him and walked over to your seat and began working.

-

That is how things went for a while. You have been avoiding Reiner and Bertholdt any chance you can get because you were unsure of how to explain the inner turmoil you are having with yourself. You are close to walking away from it all, officially dedicating your heart to the Scouts, to Commander Erwin, to Paradis. You are willing to throw it away. Your family, friends, and everyone else back home. They don’t understand what you’re going through. The struggle you are facing. It’s easy to be on the other side of things but when having to see these losses head-on, it’s gut-wrenching.

You managed to get even closer to everyone. Sharing laughs and jokes with your squad during breakfast and dinner, working with Commander Erwin more closely and offering suggestions when he’s planning the formations, engaging in more conversations with Captain Levi, and even spending time in Hange’s office.

“Oh! Hello again (Y/n)! Guess what Eren is doing today!” Hange exclaimed while wrapping her arm around Eren’s neck. Eren holding onto her arm trying to relieve some pressure on his neck.

“What is he doing today?” You gave Eren a little smirk.

“Drinking a lot of water. We’re testing out his pee!” She shoved a large canteen into Eren’s chest.

“Pee? Wait, why?”

“Because Eren, we’re tested your blood but we haven’t received consistent results. So we are going to try your bladder. So drink up! We need at least a liter.”

“A liter?!” Eren squeaked.

Hange cackled. “A liter indeed!”

“(Y/n), do you want to help Eren out?” She flashed a grin at you.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “What do I have to do?”

“Just make sure he drinks this entire canteen of water. And if he doesn’t..” her smile dropped and she grimly looked at you, “Force him.”

Eren managed to drink the canteen of water and he also managed to give a liter of urine samples. Unfortunately, Eren had to run to the bathroom every half hour for the rest of the day. This resulted in a very irritated Captain Levi and a snickering Jean.

“What experiment did four eyes do on the shit head today?” He asked you when you walked into his office.

“She needed urine samples from Eren so she forced him to drink an entire canteen which is a gallon of water in one hour.” You grinned while grabbing your stack of papers.

He cringed. “Poor Eren.”

You snapped your neck to look at him in shock. “Did you just have sympathy for someone, Captain?”

“Oi, shut it. Don’t get mouthy with me.” He teasingly pointed a finger at you.

You snickered, taking your usual seat at the table. “I mean… It’s Hange. I always have sympathy for anyone who works with her. Look at poor Moblit.” He chuckled.

His chuckle rang through your head. He chuckled. You quickly caught your thoughts and felt heat rushing up to your cheeks for getting flustered about him chuckling. Why are you feeling like this?

“Captain, what’s the occasion? I don’t think anyone has ever heard you laugh.” You grinned at him.

“That wasn’t a laugh.” He immediately responded while scribbling on papers.

“Fine. A chuckle.” You rolled your eyes and began shuffling through the papers and organizing them.

“Well feel special I guess. You heard your captain chuckle.” He mockingly repeats the word in your tone.

Special. You smile. I do feel special.

[i-need-entertainment]

Haikyuu!! Boys as Bad Dad moments

Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi, Daishou and Numai

**These are ways they “failed” as fathers. I am not talking about ACTUALLY failing as fathers, just things dads have done that most of us either remember/get told about NOT TO BE TAKEN  S E R I O U S L Y  it is just for      f u n  I also gave them all at least 2 kids cause SibLiNgS**

A ‘*’ means it happened to me lol

TW- Mentions of giving too much medicine, accidental pain caused to child, these are things I either experienced/knew people who experienced them, allusion to cursing/a FEW bad words (but I substitute a letter for something else :)

*Akaashi Keiji: 

He had been working in his office when his son had come in.

You had been putting your newborn to sleep for a nap when your son decided he wanted to be with his dad.

His son was only 3, so when Akaashi was held up in his office editing his son, Kenji, would sometimes come in and plop himself in Akaashi’s lap.

His sons small feel padded on the floor while he made his way to his father, softly tugging on his pants as he stuck his arms up.

Akaashi smiled and softly chuckled before gently picking up his son from under his arms and placing him on his lap.

He got to work soon after, reading and revising the pages.

Other than having his son on his lap it wasn’t unusual for him to be drinking coffee while working.

Keep in mind, your son had inherited a lot from Akaashi, and not just his looks or personality.

But also his habits.

Because of this, your son was very fidgety, usually toying with a string or your fingers.

That meant he tended to move around a lot.

Akaashi had just lifted his not-so-cold coffee to his lips when his son had made a sudden movement, causing him to knock his arm and, “AHH” Akaashi’s eyes snapped open as his son started crying, cursing under his breath he stood up gently holding his son in his arms as he carried him to the bathroom.

Sitting him down on the counter he dried the coffee off of his son, luckily it hadn’t been hot enough to burn him, but it was still hot enough to hurt.

“What happened? I heard crying, is he okay?” Akaashi sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, he’s okay, he bumped my arm and I spilled my coffee on him. He’s okay! It didn’t burn him, but it did hurt...” Your frowned as you stood in front of your son, giving him a soft smile before kissing his arm, cause kisses always make it feel better~

You carefully picked him up from the counter, rocking him slowly side to side as he burrowed into your shoulder.

“Are you okay little man~” He nodded as he sniffled into your shoulder, little hands clutching onto the fabric of your t-shirt.

“You know daddy didn’t mean it, it was an accident.” He nodded again, lifting his head to rub his eyes and reach out for his dad.

Akaashi gave a wobbly smile before reaching over to grab him, kissing the top of his head as he carried him back to his office, making sure to have some iced coffee instead.

Washio Tatsuki: 

This would be the first time Washio was left alone with the twins.

5 months ago, you and your husband had had your first children, your adorable fraternal twins Natsuki and Tatsuo.

Today would be the first day you would be away from them, but with your mother being sick and you being the only one available to take care of her you had to go.

You weren’t too worried about your husband, he was already a good dad so you had no doubt they were in good hands.

But it was never an enjoyable experience to have to leave your kids, especially your babies, and for the first time. 

So, you decided to leave early in the morning, give them their good morning kisses and head over to your parents house.

Before you left you changed their diapers, letting them play in their little play pen while your husband tried to get up.

Rubbing his eyes Washio walked into the play room.

He had to go to the gym today for a meeting, fortunately EJP had a really good daycare system in the stadium, so he could leave his kids there while he attended the short meeting.

He stopped in his tracks as his face blanched and he felt his breath stop.

You had changed the twins’ diapers...but you hadn’t dressed them.

The twins were still young, so without looking at their, uh, biological differences you couldn’t tell them apart....

Now, usually when this happened you guys would just check the diapers, but you had just done them..

And he was already running a bit late.

So, he made his best guess, got them dressed (one in pink, the other in blue), fed and in the car driving them to the stadium.

Once he got there he quickly dropped them off, rushing to his meeting.

The meeting had been fairly simple, just some pre-season info he’d need.

After chatting with his coach/teammates, and stopping Suna and Komori from pulling a prank, he made his way back to the daycare.

He walked into the building when one of the younger care takers, Yui, walked up to him, One twin in each arm.

He smiled as he carefully put them into their carriers.

“Uhm, just a question...” He looked up to her and motioned for her to continue.

“...Were you aware that Tatsuo was wearing the dress?” Washio sighed as he ran a hand down his face shaking his head. Yui light heartedly smiled, “Don’t worry, we switched them.” Thanking them, he picked up his babies and went home.

He was not prepared for the way you cackled when he told you what happened.

*Konoha Akinori: 

You had gone away for a business trip, leaving your husband Konoha home with your 3 kids. (You guys have 2 girls and a boy)

Your middlest child, your son Akira, had recently come down with a cold making the poor thing miserable when he tried to sleep.

Being the good dad that he is, he gave his son some benadryl!

The next morning he woke up, and after letting his kids sleep in for a little bit he woke them up too.

...two of them.

He tried several times to get his son to leave his bed, but the little kid couldn’t so much as swing one foot over the side of his bed with out falling asleep again.

He didn’t think too much of it, the kid had a cold after all.

So he let him sleep for another hour or so before making him get up for real.

A day later you got home, and everything was pretty much normal.

Until you went to put your son to bed, and realized he had crashed on the couch.

“...Uhm, Akinori?” Your husband lifted his head at your voice, setting the dishes in the sink and drying his hands with a towel as he made his way over to you. 

“Yeah babe?” You took a look over towards your son before looking back to your husband.

“...Has Akira been like that all weekend?” Konoha ran his hand through his hair as he sighed. “No, only since Saturday. He wasn’t feeling good so I gave him some benadryl, he’s been dead to the world since.” You slowly nodded.

“Uhm, Akinori?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “How much benadryl did you give him?”

He left to grab the box, coming back with it in his hand as he continued to look at it.

He shook his head in confusion. “I gave him the amount the box said, 1 teasp-”- He paused.

Uh oh.

He in fact, had not given his son a teaspoon of benadryl.

He had given him a tablespoon.

*Kita Shinsuke: 

You had to leave early one morning for a doctors appointment; you were pregnant with you and Kita’s second child. 

Usually for these appointments Kita’s grandmother would watch your 3 year old daughter Kyoka.

But she had something to do that morning so Kita was the one responsible for getting her ready for preschool.

Kita was a good father so you weren’t worried.

You knew she would be put together, fed, and on time.

There was just one thing you couldn’t account for.

“Daddy?” Kita looked away from the mirror he was shaving in and down to his daughter, washing away the traces of shaving cream. “Yes sweetheart?”

She held out her small hand, 2 bright pink hair ties with little butterfly charms on them held out in her palm.

“Can you do my piggy tails please?” His eyes widened.

He hadn’t done hair...like...ever.

But from the puppy eyes his little princess was giving him, how could he not do it?!

Plus, it couldn’t be that hard...right? I mean, he had watched you do it plenty of times, and it was pretty straight forward.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed he had her stand on the ground in front of him.

He grabbed her brush and put the two hair ties she had given him on his wrist.

He brushed her hair and parted it as evenly as he could, trying to be gentle in the process.

Now time for the pig tails..

He pulled her hair back, trying to make it tight to it would stay.

...But he might have made it a little too tight.

He turned her around and realized he had made them way too tight.

Not only did her hair look like he had slicked it back with x4 strength hair gel, but it was so tight that her eyebrows had been stuck way up on her forehead.

He was quick to turn her back around, loosening the hair ties so she looks like a 3 year old again.

His face turned undeniably red as he told you what happened later that night, you light heartedly laughing at his misfortune.

Suna Rintaro: 

Suna had just gotten out of practice, and now he was on the way to his kids school. 

You and Suna had 4 kids, 2 boys and 2 girls. 

The youngest 2 had a doctor’s appointment earlier that day, which you had taken them too. Meaning Suna needed to pick the older 2 up from elementary school.

He had been listening to music, his music to be specific.

He had pulled into the parking lot, changing the playlist to a kid friendly one right before his children got in the car.

After they had told him about their days, and he had told about his, he switched back on the music.

It had been fine for a song.

Until he realized that he had a few songs qued.

The fun little song had just ended when the bass dropped, the color draining from his face as soon as the song started.

The mentioned song being “Big Bank” by YG, 2 Chainz, Big Sean and Nicki Minaj of course~.

He was quick to turn the radio off, waiting until he could pull over, empty the que, and turn on kid friendly music.

He told the kids to ‘forget what they heard’ and he continued on his drive home.

Now, you’ve got to remember, his daughter is in kindergarten and his son is in 2nd grade, so they’re still kind of at that “monkey see, monkey do” age range.

Or rather, “monkey hear, monkey repeat.”

He thought it was gonna be okay, they were good kids so he figured telling them to forget they even heard it, they would let it go.

There was just one thing about his children that he didn’t account for.

As obedient and well behaved as his children were, they were also very curious.

That night at dinner they had all been sat down at the table, eating dinner and talking about their days. 

You had been feeding your infant son while Suna had been watching the 3 year old, the other 2 older children happily eating their food. Until...

“Hey mommy?” You looked at your daughter with a smile, “Yes baby?” She continued to eat her dinner, “What’s a b!tch?” Your eyes widened as your husband choked on his food, your baby laughing at the scene before him.

Hitting his chest and taking a sip of water Suna tried to catch his breath.

“Nezuko we don’t say that, where did you hear that?!” She tilted her head as she looked at you confused before turning to look at Suna, pointing a small finger at him.

“It was on the radio, daddy told us to ‘forget’ but I didn’t know what it meant...What does it mean?” You sent a glare towards your husband as you sighed.

After explaining to your daughter why it was bad to say those things and not to repeat everything she heard you cleaned up your kids and put them to bed.

...You had quite the conversation with your husband later that night.

Ushijima Wakatoshi: 

Ushijima had been on grocery duty this week since you had a meeting with a friend.

He had the Friday off, and since you weren’t home he took the kids with him.

Now, I would like you to know that you guys have 6 kids. S I X.

Growing up with no siblings and divorced parents, Ushijima wanted to make sure none of his kids were lonely.

Originally you guys had two, each kid had a buddy.

...but then you had a third, and you couldn’t just leave him alone...

so you had another...then another...

And now you guys have 6. But it’s okay cause you both love kids anyway~

He was doing his best, he truly was. He had his 2 youngest sitting in the little seat by the handle bar, 2 kids in the basket, 1 hanging onto the side and the oldest walking alongside him.

When they got to check out he had to take one of the kids out of the basket, so he opted for his 3rd oldest, his son Kazue, figuring he was older so it’d be a-okay.

He checked out his extensive amount of groceries before loading them up into his car, and his kids.

He pulled out of the grocery store parking lot and got on the road, his kids singing along to the radio and chatting amongst themselves.

They had been driving for 6 minutes when his oldest child, Ren, spoke up. “Uh, dad?” He hummed, briefly checking the rear view mirror before returning his gaze to the road. “When are we going back to get Kazue?” His face lost all color as his eyes widened.

As swiftly and safely as he could he pulled over to the side of the road, whipping around in his seat to take a head count. ‘1..2..3..4..5...oh sh-’ Turning back around he got back onto the road, taking the nearest u-turn and rushing back to the store. 

Unbuckling his kids from their carseats he hurried them back into the store, his oldest holding the 2nd borns hand, as he held all 3 of the younger ones in his arms.

He frantically entered the store, almost collapsing with relief when he saw his son sat at the customer service desk with the security guard, eating a lollipop before smiling when he saw his dad come to pick him up.

After giving proof that yes, he was his father, he took all of his kids back home after getting them some ice cream.

...this would be one conversation he was not excited to have with you....

Yahaba Shigeru: 

Yahaba and his 2 sons had been hanging out in the living room while you finished making some snacks in the kitchen.

Yahaba had been trying to set up a DVD player, you guys were going to watch some home-videos from your high school days but they were all on CD.

So, after borrowing one from his parents house, he set out to hook it up to the TV.

...Which was proving much more difficult then he first anticipated.

His two boys, Itsuki (6) and Hayato (8) were in there with him, ‘helping’ as they had called it.

Yahaba groaned as he sat back, a hand ruffling through his hair as he racked his brain to think of the problem.

You had finished preparing everything so you came in, with the food, and set it down on the coffee table.

You came up behind your husband, kneeling down behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders.

“How’s it going?” He sighed, leaning back into you.

“Well, I think I know what I need to do, I’m going to have to stick my hand back there though. Hey Hayato, can you help me out buddy?” The 8 year old excitedly nodded.

“Great, I need you to hold this flashlight here, hold it steady okay?” Hayato nodded with a ‘Yup!’ before Yahaba laid down on his side, maneuvering to where he could see the back of the TV.

All had been going well, he had just got it hooked up, and after having you test it, it worked!

He tried to get himself out from behind the TV, until a sharp edge caught his finger.

“Sh!t!” Your eyes widened, “Shigeru!” He hadn’t realized his slip up until he was out from behind the TV, faced directly with your glare.

“Kids, don’t say that.” His youngest blinked at him. “But why?”.

Kneeling down in front of him Yahaba tried to explain, but it was a little hard when you were glaring holes into the back of his head and his oldest was giggling at the situation.

*Iwaizumi Hajime: 

It was a weekend in summer vacation, and you and your husband were both off work.

This meant, you guys got a whole day to spend with your 3 boys, and one of the things you guys loved to do as a family was play games.

On this particular afternoon, your sons had chosen to play twister.

You were a little skeptical because you had 3 competitive, rambunctious boys. 

And an equally competitive rambunctious husband.

But after getting 4 identical pouts you couldn’t say no...

But, you elected to be the spinner. (..for your own safety)

“Left hand, green.” This put your middlest son in quite the predicament.

The only space available was the Green directly by his fathers hand, meaning he’d have to crawl under Iwaizumi.

“Okay Hajime, right hand, yellow.” Iwaizumi grimaced as he tried to reach it.

 This wasn’t good, the mat was slick, his hands were sweating-

“oOf” Before he could catch himself he had completely lost his balance, landing right on his son.

You gasped in horror as you saw the life get squeezed out of your 5 year old, scrambling from where you sat to check on your now pancaked son.

“...Hiro..are you okay..?” 

His small head shot up with a “I’m okay!” Before he, albeit wearily, stood up brushing off his godzilla t-shirt before continuing on with his life.

You took a deep breath as you sat back down, flashing a warning look towards your husband who sheepishly smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

And after checking that yes, your son really was okay, you guys continued on with some...safer games.

Futakuchi Kenji: 

You had left for a weekend visit to see your parents in your hometown, leaving your husband and Your 3 girls alone.

It was a friday night, so after having a less than healthy dinner, ice cream and a fair amount of other sweets, Futakuchi figured a movie before bed would be a good way to finish off the night.

He scrolled through netflix trying to find a movie he could watch with his girls.

“Daddy, can we watch snow white?!” Futakuchi looked down at his oldest, Hayami, before he shrugged. “Sure.”

He may be a guy, but he was not above watching princess movies if it meant his babies were happy. Besides, it was a disney movie, what bad could be in it!

Everything was going swell, until the witch showed up.

He felt the sick feeling of dread in his stomach as soon as he felt his middlest curl in tight to his side, his youngest hopping off of the couch and climbing into his lap.

...Disney SHOULD have been a safe bet, but with the way his 3 girls were clinging onto him for dear life, he probably should have previewed it first..

That night he put them to bed, reading them a quick story before giving them each a kiss on their forehead and tucking them into bed. 

15 minutes.

15 minutes of almost sleep when he heard you guys’ bedroom door creak open, 3 sets of little feet pad over to his side of the bed.

“...daddy..?” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he opened them, brown eyes meeting the teary ones of his 3 children as they stood there. Speaking in as soft of a voice as he could he tried not to sound as tired as he knew he was.

“What is it munchkin?” His daughters all fidgeted where they stood, fiddling with the hems of their princess night gowns as they stood there.

“...We’re scared...can we sleep with you..?” Knowing he wouldn’t be able to get them to sleep like you could, and being incredibly tired himself he moved to the side, opening the covers and making room for all 3 of his princesses.

...This was going to be a long night for him.. 

Daishou Suguru: 

Daishou had been playing outside with his kids, his 2 year old son Kento and his 5 year old daughter Shizuko.

His son was sat on his shoulders, one of Daishou’s hands wrapped firmly around the boys ankles while the other pushed his daughter on the swing.

You had been inside getting dinner ready while they had been outside; smiling fondly at the smiles that were plastered on their faces.

When dinner had finished you walked to the sliding glass door, opening it and calling to them. “Dinners ready! Come inside and wash up so we can eat.” Your daughter and husband replied with ‘okay!’ as you went back to get plates. 

Slowing down the swing Daishou brought it to a stop so Skizuko could safely get off.

In all honesty, he was a good dad.

He was very mindful of his children and their surroundings, so they didn’t get hurt too often.

He was also very careful not to accidentally hurt them.

But accidents happen.

Walking to the back door, he, somehow either forgot or the thought didn’t register in his mind that his son was still perched on his shoulders.

He didn’t remember until a loud *whack!* was heard, and his sons cries sounded above him.

..He had tried going inside, through the door, with his son on his shoulders.

Bringing him down from his shoulders he quickly brought him inside to set him down on the counter, you almost screaming when you saw the bruise forming on his little forehead.

“Ah-wha-how- SUGURU! What happened?!”

Groaning Daishou gently put a small ice pack on his sons head, “...He whacked his head on the door frame...” You looked at him, “And how did he do that?”

Daishou sighed as he looked down, grimacing at the purple mark already present on his sons head.

...For the next few nights the couch became a good friend of his.

Numai Kazuma: 

Today was your son, Kazuya’s birthday. Today he would be turning 1.

Kazuya was the first, and so far only child you had with your husband of 3 years Kazuma Numai.

You and Numai were still learning how to be parents, and it had been an interesting journey to say the least, but you guys were doing good!

Your relatives and friends had just left, leaving you, Kazuma and your son.

It was pretty late so you started cleaning up in the kitchen and Numai started in the living room.

Kazuya had been pretty fussy, you both figuring he was tired, but when you tried to put him to sleep he wouldn’t even close his eyes.

So, deciding it’d be best to get it out of the way Numai held Kazuya as he was cleaning.

Things had been going just fine before Kazuya had reached out to grab at something on a nearby book shelf, causing the book shelf to start tipping over.

At that moment the only thing going through Numai’s mind was ‘stop the book shelf’, because at the moment, getting his son and him crushed by a bookshelf seemed like a very bad thing.

But what he hadn’t thought of was the fact that reflexively he had used both of his arms to stop said shelf (which didn’t even fall), the same two arms that had been holding his- “WAAAHH”

His eyes snapped down to the BABY he had just let go of, now crying on the floor.

You rushed into the living room, seeing your husband now cradling your still crying son, whispering apologies into his hair as he kissed the top of his head.

“Kazuma what happened?” 

He avoided eye contact. 

“...Kazuma...” Looking down he spoke.

“...I dropped him...”

...

“...you what?”

[honeybeeblush]

heheheheh i’m sending a whole bouquet for Raditz 💐

Amaryllis, carnation, fennel, forget-me-not, hydrangea, peony, red rose

“I’m not sure why I didn’t expect humans to be so nosy.”

Amaryllis: “she might end up getting a big head about it if I tell her this too much, but… she’s got a lot of strength of her own. Maybe not physically, but with how hard she pushes against what she struggles with, I’d almost mistake her for a saiyan in that regard.”

Carnation: “how she scribbled onto that Tablet of hers and ends up with art is baffling to me. She basically pushed me to try, and I already have very little artistic skills on paper- it hardly looked like much before I handed her the pen back. … Another thing is that she finds bugs fascinating, but has trouble being near most. I picked up an interesting looking beetle outside once, brought it in and I probably shouldn’t have just surprised her with it, but… after the initial scare it was cute watching her let it crawl on her fingers when she calmed down.”

Fennel: “I’m… not good with words. I mean- in an intimidating way, sure but… I think what I want to say is that I’m proud of her. Genuinely. I don’t know how I ended up with such a ray of sunshine with a warmth that puts the sun to shame. Not to mention her beauty, I… I love her a lot.”

Forget me not: “I remember when she came to me practically begging me to help her practice for her flying license. I think it’s stupid to have to have that in Conton, but I agreed. I tried to be a tough teacher, and for the most part I think I was, but I’d never really taught before. She caught on to going up pretty fast, it was staying up that was the issue. A few times she fell on her ass, but the last time we practiced she actually sustained for a while. She flew into me for a hug and sent us both to the ground. I wanted to be mad, but for a moment I couldn’t because she looked so… happy. When I lifted her off of me and snapped at her to be careful, I think she knew I was just a little bit embarrassed. Only a little bit-!”

Hydrangea: she understands quite a bit about me, but I think she knew I was hurting before even I did. You’re trained as a warrior to let nothing bother or stagger you, but after, it’s… it’s hard to admit any sort of weakness, though she tries to remind me to not view it as weakness. “Old habits die hard” I guess? As for her; she tries not to show it but I know loud sounds for her are more distressing than they are for most others. If I can’t yell at someone to shut up I can at least wrap my arms around her shoulders and let her hide her ears against my arms. It’s… sweet.”

Peony: “do I need to answer the nicknames part …hmph…

She likes PDA more than I do, she practically climbs on me for a hug, a kiss or just some attention. I’m more content with hand holding in public but now it feels like if shes not wrapped around my arm or pushed into my side something’s missing.

She calls me honey, sweetheart, the sort of stuff you’d call people. I… uhm… sometimes I call her marshmallow cause when she showed me those it made me think of her. It’s not one I use in public.”

Red Rose: “to be honest, I feel like I never can show her enough. Though there’s been a few times shes told me I make her feel safe, and… i think that’s a good way to show her I love her. That and making food together, or just making things for her in general, I’ve actually taken to cooking pretty well-“

[sunfish-studies]

Pen and Paper

✄・・・ Crisp Leaves [Aoba Johsai Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Aoba Johsai x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: I wonder if crackhead-ness of this team could be considered as a warning? Temporary mute reader.

➜ Notes: Manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm.

↷ SUMMARY ↶

People need to watch what they say because it will sometimes bite them back the least they expected–leaving a damage worth hundred times more.

If Oikawa wasn’t having the best mood, then everyone expected mutiny like this happened–him channeling all of his frustration in his jump serves. Not just one, not just two, the whole trolley of volleyball will be finished by him alone–and still not enough.

It was pure raw strength–the ball ricochet and the loud sound it produced once it slammed to the ground was no joke. The first years and second years was hesitant to remind him not to push himself too much, somehow knowing if they did that they will feel the spare of his wrath.

Only third years and the coach could throw hands in this matter.

Practice was over almost an hour ago and Oikawa wouldn’t be stopping soon. Iwaizumi was gripping the ball in his hands a little too tight–signaling that he was indeed in the brink of exploding himself. Maybe around the next minute there will be chaos.

“Tooru, practice is over. We need to go home,” that’s where [Name]’s duty lies. As a manager, it was necessary for her to take care of the members and remind them not to overwork.

Being ignored by the said brunette was expected–this happened countless of times back in their middle school days and somehow didn’t change. She hoped to evade violence as much as she could, especially when Iwaizumi doesn’t use words and proceeded to punch the lights out of Oikawa instead.

“Tooru, your knee is injured,” she said again. “The doctor said about not putting too much pressure on it. It’s time to stop.”

The third time’s the charm, she prayed. Sighing harshly from the lack of respond and on-going rebellion forced her to grabbed onto Oikawa’s arm. “Tooru-“

“Can’t you just shut up for once!?” he yanked his arm away with a harsh bat. Facing her with pure anger apparent on his face was something usual–however, it still brought her shoulders tensed up from the pure fury shone from those brown eyes. “Shut up and leave me alone! Isn’t that simple enough to do!?”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi already growled with the same intensity of anger, marching towards the two as he rolled his sleeve. There will be unavoidable fist fight and then more problem will ensue.

“Stop it, Hajime,” [Name] stated sternly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “If you two got into fight, you’ll be banned from practice for the whole week. Coach made it extremely clear about fighting between teammates.”

She wasn’t even joking about it and both Oikawa and Iwaizumi knew, which was why with a click of his tongue the brunette began gathering the balls in fast pace. After he finished tidying up, he went straight towards the exit–slamming the door shut.

“He needs to cool down for some time,” [Name] remarked, loud enough to be heard by the whole members left behind. “So, just leave him alone for now. Until he decides to talk like he used to, let him be.”

“Y-yes, senpai…”

                                                           ✎ . . . .

“WHAT!?” and the first minute of practice started with an unexpected chaos from the most least person who’s likely did so. The whole team instantly had their attention zeroed on their assistant coach, Coach Mizoguchi. Not only that, Coach Irihata had his eyes widened in disbelief. In front of the two was their manager standing.

“Do you need a break?” the older man questioned, eyes radiating worry. The reply he got was a head shook from their manager. There was pregnant silence before the coach continued. “Are you sure? Isn’t it the best to get some rest?”

A head shook became an answer, which made Coach Irihata sighed in defeat–probably relenting on her insistence on something. “Alright, but if you’re not feeling well somehow just tell me and you’re excused to go home.”

“Everyone, gather around!” Coach Mizoguchi called out, and automatically they left their activities behind to line up in front of their coaches and manager. Once the man studied all of them to made sure they were all gathered, he started with a sigh. “We have an unfortunate thing happens.”

“Your manager can’t speak at the moment,” Coach Irihata didn’t want to beat around the bush and decided to straight up telling the whole team the truth.

“Uhm, what do you mean Coach…?��� Iwaizumi asked slowly, trying to comprehend the statement from before.

“Apparently, your manager lost her voice.” The older man repeated. “And for the time being, she will communicate with all of you using her notebook.”

There was silence that befall the gym for a few minutes before chaos ensued.

“WHAT!?”

“How did that happen!?”

“Are you okay, Otohaku-senpai!?”

“But that doesn’t mean she’s not participating in practice or anything, she will do her work as usual.” Coach Irihata continued, his words successfully got the team’s shrieks of disbelief under control. “That’s why, if I found out that somehow you’re troubling your manager, there will be drills to compensate. Do I make myself clear?”

Series of gulps could be heard from the subtle threat looming over. “U-Understood, Coach…”

“Now, dismiss!”

                                                          ✎ . . . .

“Oi, are you sure you’re okay?” Iwaizumi was the first one to ask, however he was followed by the others almost immediately once the coach told them that it’s break time. Giving them already-filled water bottles was [Name]’s duty, and he thought it was a great time to begin questioning. “Shouldn’t you be home and getting bed rest of something?”

After handing the Ace his bottle, [Name] automatically reached out for the notebook in her jacket pocket. Opening an empty page, she began scribbling for some time then shoving the object onto Iwaizumi’s face.

‘I’m fine. There’s no fever or anything. In fact, I feel normal besides losing my ability to speak.’

“Do you have a doctor’s appointment for this?” Matsukawa questioned next.

‘My mom already arranged one. Maybe we’ll go a day after tomorrow.’

“S-senpai,” this time, it was Kindaichi. “D-do you maybe do something or eat something that could possibly led to this?’

[Name] hummed soundlessly, contemplating about her junior’s words before she’s back to writing. ‘Nothing in particular. I had dinner like usual, finishing my homework, and sleep normally. Just after I woke up, I realized I couldn’t reply to my mom calling from downstairs.’

“Are you sure you’re alright, senpai?” Watari asked in concern. “Maybe you really should take a short break like the coach suggested…”

‘I’m fine, Watari-kun. This doesn’t hinder my work at all. On the good side, you don’t need to hear my annoying voice-‘

“DON’T SAY THAT!!”

Oikawa’s voice suddenly booming across the gym–startling all of them in the process. Pairs of eyes focused on him and his abruptness.

“I-We love your voice, [Nickname]-chan!” the brunette stated. “You always cheered on us, taking care of us, helping us in team meetings! I know it’s my fault because I told you to shut up, it’s just my anger speaking! I didn’t mean any of those words!”

“Ah, so in the end, it’s your fault,” Iwaizumi smiling, however the aura oozing from his figure was anything but nice. He was out for blood–and the grip he had on the water bottle was borderline dangerous it could break the object.

“I-I didn’t mean to, I swear!” Oikawa shrieked, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry!”

The vice-captain was absolutely ready to give their captain a good beating, fortunately, a notebook shoved onto Oikawa’s face came to save his day (and probably his life). Holding onto the book carefully, he read every single word written on the surface of the paper.

‘It’s not your fault, Tooru. Sometimes, anger blinds us. I know you don’t mean it, so it’s alright. You have a rough day too, right?’

“[Nickname]-chan!!” in return, he jumped onto their manager–giving her a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder. She sighed soundlessly at his childish antic but still returning the gesture by patting his back gently.

“So, it’s because of what happened yesterday?” Kunimi concluded. “Could this be karma for Oikawa-san?’

Hanamaki laughed. “You can count it that way.”

 -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Extra [The Next Day]

“Good morning, everyone!”

“OTOHAKU-SENPAI!!”

“Yahaba-san, you’re crying…”

“Let him be, Kunimi. We’re all worried about her, aren’t we?”

“Issei, where do you put the bibs away?”

“Oh, it’s in the box next to the poles. I moved it.”

“[NICKNAME]-CHAN!!!”

“Stop clinging onto our manager, Shittykawa!”

Ah, yes, finally another normal day in practice.

[sdvharveybby]

How the Bachelors handle farm work

So, I got the inspiration of this from the parking lot of Walmart. Don’t ask- I don’t know.

Also, these are hella long but I just LOVED writing this. I really did- they all are just so cute. I hope y’all enjoy reading this!!

 Alex

Ever just wanted to move a straight up cow? Then boy do I have the man for you!!

Honestly, because Alex trains so much he has the stamina and strength of a bull. He will help you move anything you need him to for as long as you need him too. Hay bales? He’s got it. You need help hoeing, planting seeds, and watering? Literally no problem. Because he hasn’t been so big on book learning- he loves learning through his physical strength. He loves when you teach him the basics of crop growing and how to properly take care of animals, and once you teach him- you can just let him run wild. He’ll then realize how physically stressing your job is and will soon put ‘working on the farm’ as part of his regiment. (Plus seeing him chop down trees shirtless isn’t such a bad sight, heh heh.)

You soon realize that he just loves all the cows. He moo’s back to tease them almost all the time, but genuinely enjoys feeding them and giving them pats on the head. His favorite way of showing off to you is going, “Hey, honey!” when you turn around, you’re always surprised to see him just holding a calf in his arms. His beaming smile makes your heart flutter.

Alex is always willingly to help you out on the farm in any way he can- sometimes you don’t know if it’s because he loves you or it’s because he thinks of it as training. With time though, you see that it’s actually both. He loves when you ask him for help because he enjoys knowing that you depend on him too and showing off his muscles in some way just makes him smile. He loves making you laugh, so while you take care of the chickens- he likes to make funny voices for the cows.

His constant help on the farm and his drive to make you laugh, has you loving him even more.

Sam

Sam doesn’t know a whole lot about farming, but he absolutely loves working with the animals. I’d imagine goats would be his favorite because they’re just so weird. I mean, he’s fascinated by the fact that they just want to eat everything in sight- soley because they can and that they don’t know any better.

Another reason Sam loves working with the animals is that once he realizes they’re safe and relatively easy to handle- he brings Vincent along to show him how to pet and take care of the animals. Sometimes you’ll see Penny, Vincent, and Jas on a field trip to the farm so that Sam can actually be a guide to them (of course Jas also gets the opportunity of showing off what she knows since she lives on a farm herself.)

There is nothing more wholesome than seeing Sam’s goofy smile when working with the kids. He loves feeling like he’s a part of the children’s lives and enjoys teaching them lifelong lessons.

Although… Seeing him fighting the goats as they try and eat his shirt is one of the funniest parts of your day. You can’t help but laugh as you watch him tell the goats to, “F*CK OFF!” (only sometimes do you actually help him.)

Sebastian

Sebastian wasn’t to keen on helping you out on the farm when you first asked for his help. “I’ll just screw things up.” He kept saying to you, but one day, as a present you give him a pure black egg with freckles on it. You tell him that it’s a very special looking chicken that’s hard to obtain, but that when it grows up it’s black. Oh man. When you told him this, he was ALL about this chicken. He placed the egg in the incubator and every single day- he would check up on it until it hatched.

The chicken and him were absolutely inseparable. You’d find him talking to himself all throughout the day until you find out that he puts the little chick in his sweatshirt pocket and literally carries it around everywhere with him. He shows off his little chick to everyone he knows- what made the chicken and him even closer was that people were just as weirded out by the chicken as they were of Sebastian. “I want to call my chicken, Midnight” He explains one day, “I actually feel like Midnight understands me as much as you do.”

Sure, Sebastian wasn’t great help with any of the other tasks on the farm, but the fact that he gives you the biggest, goofiest looking smile whenever he holds Midnight- it makes it all worth it. You’re happy that you could give Sebastian something to look forward to each and every day. It’s not long until you have a pet bed in your own house- just for Midnight, but you can’t complain. Seeing Sebastian smile as often as he had been was enough for you.

Harvey

The physical work was not Harvey’s specialty. After trying to assign him different tasks- you figured that you should let Harvey do what he wanted to do. After all, you married the goofball because you enjoyed his independent and nurturing side. (Getting patched up or given a deep tissue massage after a long day was wonderful.)

It wasn’t until you saw him grumbling over some paperwork that you asked him what he was doing, “I know I don’t have the endurance and strength to help you out on the farm, but I wanted to help you out at least in some way.” When he hands you the papers- you find out that he had been tallying every single expense made on the farm. In short, he decided he wanted to handle all of the farms finances whilst also checking crop prices each season and dating them back through the years to see what crops made the most money. “Grow potatoes in Spring, blueberries in Summer, and cranberries in the Fall.” He started, “As you can see here-“ and that’s where you lost him. Going through all the numbers made your head spin, but the fact that he did this all on his own and that he wanted to do it gave you so much relief. After a flurry of kisses- he was happy to know that he was doing a good thing.

Although you also find that when you patch up the Greenhouse- he gets excited. You find out that the expansive farm was just overwhelming to him and he didn’t want to get sunburned or heat exhaustion (which happened to you often.) You give him the territory of the Greenhouse and tell him, “Just work on it on the days you want too. You’re not required to do anything.”

You soon find it extremely touching though when he routinely presents you with flowers that he grew himself. He explains that he only wanted the Greenhouse to gift you flowers all year long.

Elliot

Elliot finds the farm relaxing and fascinating. Having only lived on the beach- the farm was an entirely new territory that he got to explore. Every day, you’d find breakfast on the table with a note on it. You understood the general theme within each note being about ‘beauty’. He’d ask you the same question every day once you finished reading it, “Do you understand it yet?” What does he mean by ‘yet’, you wonder? Sheepishly you finally understood what every single note meant, and he was writing about you the whole time. When tiny snowflakes covered your hair in the Winter when you came in in the evening to how the sunlight glistened on your skin in the Summer. You finally get that his real fascination was watching and admiring you while you worked.

That’s not to say that he didn’t help you sometimes. Working on the farm humbled him greatly and inspired him to continuously write every single day. Before you knew it- he had multiple books published that became successful, all because he had you and your farm as inspiration.

His biggest physical help on the farm was taking care of the plants that grew each of the three seasons. He loved working on the farm with you because his enjoyment was discovering the new leaves that grew over night- or that a flower would bud on the potatoes. He was routinely in awe at the new discoveries in plant life that he couldn’t give it up. You would give him a section of the farm to take care of- only come to find out that when you finished your section, he was too distracted by about the third plant that you would have to finish it for him. He would always profusely apologize about it, but you found it touching that even something as simple as a plant was just so exciting to him.

Sometimes he looked like a little kid- mouth agape and eyes sparkling when he’d see a plant, he personally took care of growing bigger and bigger. As a gift, you gave him planters so he could better watch the plant life grow. His big, sweet smiles stick in your mind, making you smile too. He was just too cute.

Shane

You expected him to basically fight you over the chicken coop. But with everything that Shane had been through- you didn’t want to stand in the way of what made him happy. He complained about his body a lot, but you will never see this man run harder just to tell you that a new chick hatched overnight. You’d find yourself just watching him as he would chase the chickens around the pen only to then get swarmed by them- knocking him in on his ass every time. You would just laugh amongst all the bawking as he’d try to free himself. Now, he never hurt a chicken, and they’ve never hurt him- they just swarm him because they want too. It’s like one minute you’re watering your crops, just to turn and hear him scream as a mass of feathers cover him. You’d wash his clothes and routinely find feathers stuck in his pockets- you decided to collect them. One day you’ll make fun of him for it or cover the entire side of his bed with them. The feather prank was all in your hands.

Now, you thought he just had an affection for the birds until you get him to talk about them. Shane knows EVERYTHING about chickens- when’s the best time to feed them, what to feed them, how much to feed them, how to take care of their feathers, how to handle an egg-bound chicken, how to care for newly hatched chicks- this man knew everything. It wasn’t long until he knew the exact spot each chicken loved to be scratched at.  He’d explain that every chicken had a different spot that they loved being petted at- it was mind boggling.

Now Jas knew a whole lot about farming, but Shane would consistently bring her to the farm. She loved it too! Jas got to see Shane genuinely happy all the time and it brought her a lot of comfort to see him mess with the chickens (and the chickens mess with him back.) She was so happy to know that Shane was content and satisfied with his life now- instead of lonely and depressed. He expressed joy, and even to Jas- Shane was teaching her new things about chickens every time she came over. She’s smart, but there were things that he shows her that blows her mind.

Through it all- you knew Shane wouldn’t be big on helping out on the farm, but you knew if you could get him in the chicken coop, it would make him undeniably happy. That was enough for you- you didn’t marry him to make him work on the farm- you married him because of his goof ball smile and nerdy talk about chickens and it made you so so happy.

It also helped that he could take a joke and that you two could tease each other- filling his side of the bed with feathers cracked you up at the twisted face he gave. He was happy, and that made you happy.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”

Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class

Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.

Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).

But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.

-

Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.

Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.

She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.

Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.

Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.

However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.

Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.

“Mines all weird too!”.

“Same here!”.

“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.

“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.

“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.

“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.

“I know right”.

“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.

“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.

“Holy Shit”.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.

“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.

“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.

“Invisible and laughing at us”.

“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.

“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,

Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.

Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.

Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.

Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.

-

Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.

Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.

“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.

“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.

“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.

“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.

Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.

Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.

Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.

Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.

“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.

“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.

“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.

“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.

“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.

“Better question, how does Danny know?”.

Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger).  Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.

Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.

“Oh my Zone, they know too”.

“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.

Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.

“Damn fucking straight”.

Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.

End.

Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...