#but its like everything i do without meaning to bothers her and idk maybe we just arent compatible as friends

[breaklights]

it feels like everything i do (or dont do!!) hurts my roommates feelings and its always my fault and [redacted] who also lives with us is never the one to blame (which is true but im not either) even tho like the things i do (or dont do) [redacted] also does so idk why im the one at fault all the time

[olde-scratch]

psst hey. chimera!laios. you want it.

(reblogs >>>>>> likes)

(ignore that i didnt add fleshy colors to his hands and i forgot his knuckles on one of them shhh)

my friend @gltchghst and i came up with a chimera!laios for a falin/laios roleswap au that i wrote a oneshot for (link here) (eventually u should check my prof in case i turn it into a series of connected oneshots).

where falin gets chest feathers, laios gets a happy trail. why? well. laios is an adult. and IM an adult.

sketches in read more along with notes about chimera!laios. spoilers, obvi.

did i lowkey trace the sketch of falin ripping her shirt because i couldn't be bothered to make the pose myself? yeah. ive never drawn that angle or pose before and i didn't wanna burn myself out trying to figure it out. im not trying to hide it so its fine.

i was gonna do a little simplified anatomy sketch for it but cannot be bothered so instead have bulletpoints

where falin has feathers, laios has fur. idk if thistle just gave falin feathers or if he combined her with another animal, but laios i think would be happy if we did two monsters instead of one + another basic trait. we ended up using dungeon rabbits, the blades of which you can very faintly see hidden in the fur on his forearms in the second image.

the red dragon itself does not actually have wings, which would technically make it a drake. (eastern dragons are technically wyrms, which also exist.) however, wings are cool, and dragons are supposed to have wings. thistle has wings on his eye of the magician dragons, and those are red. so its basically the same thing.

chimera!laios is significantly bigger than chimera!falin. falin herself isn't as tall as laios, but there's also the fact that falin has magic on her side. she has feathers to make herself appear bigger than she is. this all very much seems to play to falin's strengths, since she is a magic-user. laios, however, is a tank, and this is apparent in his bigger stature (falin's like 35 ft i think, i imagine he's 5-10 feet taller and much bulkier) and the red dragon hide across more of his body which we know is extremely tough.

falin has magic. she has Magic. HELLO. laios gets to breathe fire. ITS FAIR OKAY. laios isn't made to breathe fire so i imagine that it also severely impacts his ability to talk (rather than him being extremely disoriented or just a puppet) by causing burns on the inside of his mouth (and probably the remaining human portion of his throat before it turns into dragon). he also probably couldn't breathe the fire very far, since he does still have a human mouth, but he can also use the wings to fan any fires he does cause. modern problems.

falin has more estrogen in her body than testosterone and isn't a front-line fighter. laios, however, is Male and exercises A Lot, so his fat stores will be empty looong before falin's would have been. on top of nourishing a bigger body, he also cant eat without causing pain to himself due to the open burns on the inside of his mouth. someone else come up with a concrete way to redo the curry scene, maybe tire him out and feed him some medicinal herbs before they freeze him. mf ain't fighting for long.

laios has horns because same reason as the happy trail. my friend and i are into men. if u don't like it make your own chimera!laios design. this is for Us.

yeah this entire thing is just us 'rule of cool'ing chimera!laios and doing our best to use logic to justify it. keep scrolling.

the shirt in the second image is falin's shirt, and i think that even though they are rather similar, falin's shirts might end up being too short for laios. does this mean he got abducted with his entire everything out? no, i think either falin grabbed and salvaged a pair of his pants from their stuff (maybe the extra shirt was one they shared or maybe it got got by a dungeon creature?) or they whipped up/found him a pair of shorts. i think canonically falin borrowed marcille's underwear but i don't think anything they have is fitting laios.

maybe its because im biased considering laios is one of my favorite characters but my friend enabled me so i think laios would be capable of more destruction than falin. she's meant to use magic to locate delgal (tho she isn't often seen doing it to the extent id expect her to be), but i think laios' method of searching would be to pick up where thistle can't and use physical search-and-rescue to find delgal instead of more magic. thistle wont let him leave any more than falin, so this point is moot, but yk. i think laios' ability to destroy would also do more to symbolize thistle's growing desperation to find delgal and his willingness to destroy what's in his path to do so.

maybe soon ill redraw the falin and thistle interactions to do laios and thistle instead, but i know that i do want to draw some wish fulfillment art where thistle gets a nice big hug. it probably wouldn't be as comfy as falin's, and laios has weapons on his arms, and also laios would be really sweaty and gross with no feathers to act as a buffer, but no one said thistle had to enjoy the hug.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Okay so a thing that has bothered me ever since I first watched Chat Blanc was Bunnyx and the general time travel stuff because tghis makes no sense. In the Chat Blanc time line, after Chat Blanc destroyes the universe, everyone is dead. Including adult!Alix aka Bunnyx. So the Bunnyx fron the Chat Blanc timeline doesn'rt exist anymore, meaning that the Bunnyx fron the episode is from a parallel timeline where Chat Blanc didn't destroy the universe. That however raises the question why she would even care about that other timeline. Is her quest to assure victory over Monarch in every single timeline because that sounds exhausting as hell. I also don't understand the deal with her leg disappearing while she witnesses the fight between LB and CB, it has no reason to, because LB defeating CB doesn't have any effect on Bunnyx because, as stated earlier, the Bunnyx from that timeline is already dead! And honestly, the fact that Lb even had to fight CB makes no sense. They could've just went back in time 2 minutes so LB can erase her name from the letter (or just be quicker so Adrien doesn't see her) and CB doesn't happen in the first place!

Like, genuine question, what was the point of the whole thing? I mean other than the concept is cool and the writers wanted to give LB trauma (which never really plays a significant part in the overall story anyway??)

Sorry for rambling so much, I don't know if this makes any sense, the episode was really confusing to me and idk if it's just because the episode actually doesn't make sense or because I just don't understand it bc time travel is really confusing. Would really love to hear your opinion!

You're fine and you're not missing a thing. The episode simply doesn't make sense nor am I sure why it even exists. I know a lot of people love it, but I really don't get the hype. It runs off of nonsense logic and makes most of the characters look really bad.

Let's start with the lore.

The canon lore is that Bunnyx only travels through time, not universes, so it makes no freaking sense that an adult Bunnyx would be able to stop Chat Blanc since the existence of Chat Blanc should stop her from existing. It's a total paradox that goes against everything we'd been told about her powers. Of course, she's also supposed to be the hero of last resort, yet we hear about her hanging out with famous historical figures and the season five final sees her acting as a substitute for the horse miraculous even though the people she portals in don't do a thing to help with the final battle, so it's not like Chat Blanc is the only time her powers and role get ignored. Any time I use the rabbit, I have to completely rework its lore because canon is just so bad at time travel. I like Alix and her adult design is awesome, but any time Bunnyx shows up, I expect to be annoyed.

Also, I will never forgive her for just dumping Ladybug back in our time without so much as a word of encouragement or any reassurance that the Chat Blanc stuff was only a maybe. And Ladybug was the one to figure out how to fix time!!! Alix, you suck at your job! Or this is just another case of the writers refusing to let someone other than Marinette save the day even though the poor girl really needs a day off.

As for why this episode exists? I don't even know, dude. It makes no sense. Back when we thought it was going to be a driving force in the season four conflict - an assumption that was backed up by Marinette's nightmare in sentibubbler - the episode kinda made sense in spite of its flaws. But we're two seasons past Chat Blanc and the only person who is apparently traumatized by it is Adrien.

Yes, the writers actually said this. No, you didn't miss an episode where Adrien learned about Chat Blanc. They were talking about the nightmares from the final:

Mélanie says that he "could become Chat Blanc" and the others add that even though he does not remember and has never lived it, Chat Blanc still has an influence on his actions.

Yes, this is embarrassingly bad writing. The character who never saw or even heard of Chat Blanc is somehow the one who is traumatized and effected by it while Marinette's trauma has nothing do to with Chat Blanc or the events of the season four final. Instead, it's random BS that was never even hinted at until season five. I just... what?

In case it wasn't obvious - which I guess it isn't given that professional writers missed this - the logical way to write this to have the season four conflict be about Chat Blanc from Ladybug's side. After the conflict ends, she reveals everything to Chat Noir who becomes terrified of hurting people with his powers. This is only exacerbated by the events of Destruction. But then the show would have had to let Chat Noir have a character arc that didn't revolve around Ladynette and the series seems allergic to that as a concept, so instead Adrien gets magical trauma that keeps him from the final fight. And I thought the Derision retcon was bad!

Other issues with Chat Blanc in no particular order:

It cements Nathalie as just as bad a Gabriel since she's the one who tells him Adrien's secret identity and we then see her do nothing to try to protect Adrien.

It makes Gabriel irredeemable by showing him gleefully hurting his child. Dude punts his son across the city with a smile on his face!

It makes Adrien look slimy since he asks Marinette out without telling her that he knows her secret identity. This one is in a bit of a grey area for me because the secret identity stuff is complicated, but Adrien has never been the one who cared about secret identities AND he's the one who has been directly turned down in hero form. The episode takes none of that into consideration with its writing and it really needed to for Adrien to feel like he had a valid point of view here. As is, he's taking advantage of a situation and putting his Lady love at risk for his own wants.

The pillow sniff scene makes Marinette look unhinged.

It spits in the face of The Power of Love by having Adrien's love fail to be enough to stop him from killing Marinette.

Marinette's parents should have gotten involved after Gabriel threatened her. There is no way in hell that I'd let my kid go over to the Agreste mansion after that. If the writers were once again determined to not let Tom and Sabine parent, then the threat should have come when Marinette was alone.

Why did Ladybug even need to go to the future if Bunnyx could have just gone back in time and stopped Ladybug from leaving the present for Adrien? Why did Chat Blanc even need to be defeated? What did Ladybug's ladybug actually fix when she cast her charm?

This is minor, but it bothers me: Chat Noir should not have been smiling and happy when he was freed from his akuma. That boy should have been in the middle of a breakdown.

I know people forgive some of the above because Chat Blanc is sort of an AU and I'm not going to say that's wrong, I just can't look at it that way because there's nothing that sets Chat Blanc apart from the normal timeline. The Paris special gives us an AU. Chat Blanc (and Ephemeral) are what the writers told us would happen in the canon timeline if Gabriel ever discovered his son's secrets. Canon Gabriel was the one doing those things and would have done them again if given the chance. This is who the writers said he is. Same goes for all the other characters who come across less than stellar here.

There's a reason why I love a good Chat Blanc rewrite. It's an idea with a lot of potential, but canon capitalizes on almost none of it.

[mdhwrites]

Im sorry if im annoying, is just I really love Tmnt, specially Rise, and I also enjoy reading your analysis and stuff.

So, if is bothering you, you can delete this ask, is cool 👍

Now, my question is, character wise, like in a quick grande, idk if makes sense- IMPRESSIONS.

What would it be your first impression of the characters?

*bops you on the head* Stop apologizing. I've said before that if I had nothing to say, I'd just answer it privately. However, I LOVE discussions and I always appreciate asks so you're never annoying me with these. Please, don't worry about it so much.

As for the characters for Rise of the TMNT, I can't comment on everyone as I've only watched so much, like I have no real grasp on April yet besides liking her, but I actually want to start on the major thing that I think both allowed Rise to stand out and what made it so divisive at its inception, especially since talking about stuff like that is kind of going to bleed into what I think of the brothers. After all, I think whether you love the show or hate it, we all recognize that the brothers are very markedly different in this incarnation than literally any other, even if you can point to ones in the past for inspiration.

Most TMNT shows are MNT. Mutant. Ninja. Turtle. Those are the elements that they care about. Rise cares about TMT and goes about SHREDDING the fantasy that is the turtles as ninja. Not that they aren't ninja but like... What do ninja who TEENAGE MUTANT TURTLES like?

This actually even goes to Shredder's change which I'd never heard about before now: He's kind of a washed up loser. Again, I don't know everything but he's just as playful as the boys, he watches television, he goes on joyrides, he loses his mind when he's sick. He's not some grand wise mentor... And I get it. This is a man, going off normal canons, who lost his master, got thrown away, ended up halfway across the fucking globe and lives in a GOD DAMN SEWER. Not some pristine dojo. Not some high tech. Not even a cozy lair repurposed out of a sewer because none of that shit was around. All he had was a dank ass sewer. To say he hit rock bottom would be an understatement.

And mind you, it's not that her turned cruel because of this. He still passed on what culture he could but without stealing really expensive imports, what of his culture does he even have? He can't go to the library to check out books for the new family he wants to make. He can't buy home school programs to help him teach them. He has nothing. And he's old. He was already a man when shit went wrong for him in most canons so by the time the turtles are teenagers, he's at least fifty. Usually he's depicted as WAY older than that, like 70 or 80. Instead of that meaning he's some mystical figure, he's instead the cooky old dude who's maybe not all there all the time. That's a really neat reinterpretation of the character that's genuinely more realistic while befitting the tone of the TMNT franchise where yeah, it's still kind of cranked to eleven.

This is also your warning that I fucking love these characters.

So what about the brothers? If they aren't privileged but underground but instead genuinely stuck slumming it, what happened to them? Well, a core change seems to be not so much a want to belong, they actually don't seem that interested in being accepted by society, but a desire to covet society. To be able to watch and be a part of the concept of society. That's why they're totally at home watching a wrestling match. They aren't wishing they could be in the ring, they're just happy to be part of the crowd with the best seats in the house. They don't have to mind that they have to fight in costume, they're gonna rock it because they're in fucking costume and someone challenged you to a dance battle? You respond with a dance battle. They are MORE content with being outcasts than the turtles normally are because they live vicariously through media like many people do. This is with ONE exception that I'll get to.

I also like, just as a side note, that just because they are normal amongst mutants biologically, they still have no fucking clue what they're doing. They're genuinely caught between two worlds with double the naivety because of it and get screwed over by both halves because of it. Just a fun touch.

OKAY. Enough preamble. Let's actually go from the least to most bold changes of the brothers, at least from my perspective. I've never been huge into TMNT, just never really found a show I managed to watch consistently but I've liked most of what I've seen including the first Michael Bay Turtles movie, so I may not know how radical these alterations are or how safe they are except in a few small cases. For this though, the first one to talk about is pretty easy:

Michelangelo: *stares at how spellcheck just wrote that name* No wonder people fuck up mine. ANYWAYS, the reason I say he's the least bold is because adding artistic to your quirky, comedic heart of the group is not really so much a change as just a small pivot in trope. He's still more inclined towards recklessness, he's still the one who can broach the gaps between his brothers and he is the... Well, he is the one who is telling the most genuine jokes. Again, we'll get to him. But yeah, I like him but he's not actually that interesting to discuss, yet, for me because he is the one who is the most what you would expect.

Donatello: I bet some of you expected him to take the top slot but hear me out: I actually recently did a blog contrasting Big Bang and The Owl House for their depictions of nerds. The point of it was really to say that TOH tried to claim their nerds were some groundbreaking, brave representation but that they were 'good' nerds besides the one uncomfortable nerd who got in the way and that no one liked. The difference between a nerd who never brings up their interests at dinner unless prompted versus one who MIGHT ask "Hey, am I bothering you with this," thirty minutes into a rant about a niche issue with their favorite media that they brought up because you mentioned the wrong time. Say yes and you are going to be there the rest of the fucking night. THIS is what I see with Donatello. Donnie is usually just the tech dude and by that we mean he's conveniently the one who can spit technobabble out and fix things. He is nerdy but he'd never be someone you really question spending time with. This Donnie refuses to spend time with YOU and he will let you know it. He is the brutal honesty, amongst other things, of being autistic, alongside the fact that when they say he "Does machines" in the intro, I wouldn't be surprised if that wasn't foreshadowing him making himself a girlfriend out of his one true love. Now, that is going a little far. Donnie does love his brothers but of the three, he struggles the most to know how to deal with them in a human way, to the point where this is addressed very early on with him trying to fix what he finds most annoying about them and how that's wrong. This is not literally the opposite of normal, Mikey is usually the heart of the brothers after all, but Donnie usually gets along because he doesn't really have enough personality to clash. This Donnie has enough personality to perform a heel turn for someone taking shit from him. It's great. However, he is still the tech dude and still somewhat removed from his siblings, both of which are pretty normal even if the execution is different, so it's not as radical a change as the next two.

Now for the two that actually play into why I did all my preamble.

Raphael: I haven't gotten backstories yet but if it turns out Raph looked around himself as he was growing up and realized NO ONE was the adult, I wouldn't be surprised. He doesn't seem traumatized by this fact by any means but he does give the impression of having grown up faster than the rest. He's not just physically more than them, he's mentally more. He's taken a step they all will eventually need to follow him... But he's not going to drag them kicking and screaming with him unless they're being genuine dumbasses. I actually love EVERY part of how this comes to play out. Raph doesn't have his hotheadedness, he has something much closer to cold fury which implies he knows that he can't lose it the way old Raphs did but that anger is still there. He is the one who actually has plans and most often presents worry over how something might go wrong, or sees through the rouses set by his brothers, meaning that he's taken the role of guardian over them (which makes his power being a form of shields technically chef's kiss). HOWEVER, by contrast, he has what feels a bigger blindspot to people outside of his family when it comes to tricks, likely because he's been focused on his brothers for long enough that he has become more naive than even many of the others of the world outside their home. This is probably why he has some of the bigger hero worship amongst them, especially since he's trying to live up to nobler ideas, or at least more adult ideals. That's ironic due to-

Leonardo: The choice to give him the voice Randy Cunningham is pitch perfect casting. This is EASILY the biggest and most jarring change but for the me the most welcome. Leo was never really a straight man from what I could tell comedically, Raph or Donnie usually did more of that, but instead was meant to be the rock of the group. Instead, he just came off as many bad adventure leaders: No personality. He's a nice enough guy and he's good at what he does but that's what you say about your mailman, not the leader of your ensemble cast.

This Leo is anything but this. He does not covet society, he wishes for society to covet him. He has taken celebrity worship to its natural conclusion of wanting to be a celebrity at all costs. He sees himself as the hottest shit out there and you bet your buns he's going to let you know it. He will do anything for recognition which is hardly surprising for a kid who grew up in the sewers watching stuff like Kung Fu movies. He wants to be that level of awesome and you better believe he knows the phrase "Fake it till you make it." Of course, he doesn't think he's faking it which makes when he gets punched in the face all the more satisfying. But... This does come with some wrinkles. He does not look upon the world favorably. If Raph is too innocent, he's cynical. Everything is quid pro quo. If you show him why you're giving him praise, even if it's shallow or a lie, he'll believe you because he is easily manipulated but you show him nothing? You say you JUST want to help without even being family? Yeah that doesn't fly because it's not what he would do, often times even with his own family. It makes for an interesting version of awareness. All of this does beg a simple question though: Is there any connective tissue between old Leo and new one? Is this like Teen Titans Go where they entirely scrapped the old character just to make him some shit eating idiot?

Confidence, wit, and spirit. Raph's greatest problems as a leader is that he isn't quick on his feet, he can't get people to listen to him and when he does have a plan, he doesn't have as much confidence as he needs to make sure everyone follows it. Leo genuinely has everything and than what Raph has a leader. He is smart, that's why he's a snarky bastard. He's confident to an extreme fault but that means when he pitches you an idea, it sounds legit just because of how much he seems to believe in it. And hey, even after he gets punched, he gets back up. He will make you say he is the best or die trying (which from my understanding is essentially the fuck up he makes at the beginning of the movie but with nobler intentions). He is missing two key components from being a genuinely great leader and ninja. The ability to see outside of himself and maturity. He needs to grow up and remember there's no I in team. That it doesn't matter who got the final hit, what matters is that the job was accomplished at all. He needs to stop wanting to be a celebrity, an icon to worship and trudge behind, and instead be a leader who is shoulder to shoulder to you. Who says that anything he'd ask of you, he'd ask of himself.

That is a fucking INCREDIBLE pitch for your main character as a starting point. All the things he needs but a radical wake up call that will force some HARD change if he wants to realize his real potential. Even better, his real potential is what he wants to be seen as, just that so long as the image is what he cares about, he'll never be what he wants to be. It's pitch god damn perfect and the fact that he is a delightful asshole who gets everything he deserves coming to him, constantly, from all angles, while he works on himself makes for a very entertaining character even as you wait for this arc to potentially happen. He is a good cartoon character either way and not everyone call pull that off.

In fact, even the most shallow of them makes for someone who you know will at least make you smirk if you give them eleven minutes. To me, that's a pretty good sign for a good character if one of your main goals is to entertain. And man... These turtles are entertaining. See you next tale.

======++++++======

Also, small note: I finally hit 200 followers! And I'm announcing this on a blog most of them probably aren't going to read. XD

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[jayflrt]

as much as im annoyed by the potential implications of the mhj/hybe drama i do feel like theres way too much speculation rn ... rlly doesn't sit so well with me that everyone is bashing on mhj alone (im not supporting her either though) and not bang sihyuk too. some hybe stans rlly js worship the guy and idk why . its not like he's innocent too. like those texts from him are so annoying too. abt if she's satisfied that nwjns is so popular and also abt trying to rival aespa / bp alone ...

hybe has sm power and r known for their mediaplay so i rlly do wish people would keep that in mind instead of doing their own speculation to bash on mhj . we don't know fs if she's the reason behind seunghan, youngseo, etc .... it seems so forced that everyone just collectively is making stuff up on their own theories and pissing on her. like im all for it when everything's done with but it's giving misogyny to me ughhh idk how to explain it eitherr without sounding like a mhj stan I PROMISE IM NOT TAKING HER SIDE T_T i just cant help but feel like poeple find it easier to hate and bash on women sometimes. even me scrolling x nowadays feels so annoying. literally feel so bad for illit and nwjns rn.

personally i was a teeny annoyed that illit had a similar image to nwjns w their nostalgia/coquettecore (also though just seems like cute/youthful concept is making a cb in general in kpop) but only because their songs on super real me were the exact type of songs i liked most from nwjns (super shy, hurt etc. the softer less peppy songs compared to hybe boy) so it bothered me that there was an implication that nwjns might be forced to distance itself to a more differing concept to keep some contrast btwn the two ... but ik that's not illit's fault at all (literally love the girls sm im a runext fan ^^) i feel like i can understand the upset that illit was getting a similar concept when every other grp before illit in hybe had more defined concepts seperating each other. but once again that's all hybe's doing ...... seeing the choreographers supporting mhj too makes it seem like not even the nwjns team or even all the staff were on board with the references in the choreo either...

anyways i do hope this controversy doesnt impede on either grps promos :( and i rlly hope everything gets sorted out... im srsly hoping this doesnt turn into a 5050 situtation again but with nwjns i was so upset when that happened . was curious on what your thoughts were or if u were keeping up with everything?

i feel like i've seen a good amount of people bashing them both but we could have different tls maybe !! but yeah i don't know why there's so many hybe stans 😭 it's been this way for a long time + armys idolizing bang pd back when bts was the only group under bighit. i feel like everyone needs to just accept that all these companies are trash and you can't be defending ceos

i do get what you mean because women are often criticized far more when those same things would be overlooked if a man did it,, however i don't think that's the case here 😭 because 1. she has an extensive history of s3xualizing minors back from when she was in sm and 2. it was revealed that she and bang pd bought out source music to debut a girl group so it's not that far-fetched to say that she could have sabotaged the trainees from source music, especially after she said that she didn't want to debut sakura because she was "too old." some of the other theories people are making definitely don't have much of a basis but i think most people also recognize that the main victims of all this are newjeans and illit + the other groups mhj dragged in with her. so yeah i wouldn't call it misogyny that people are going after min heejin, and honestly i'm even more surprised that people just forgot about how she sexualized shinee, red velvet, jisung, and newjeans and only started calling her out after this incident 😭 she's always had a LOT of defenders and personally i've never felt the need to defend billionaires :/ also mhj's a businesswoman who knows how to play the media herself. you can see it even in her press conferences; she's bringing up different groups to take attention off of herself and talking about her "relationship" with newjeans to garner sympathy from everyone

i think hybe definitely was shady for greenlighting illit's concept when it's clear there was inspiration from newjeans. i personally just assumed they discussed this with ador but i guess not?? so weird that they don't act like proper adults in that building. i'll also say that i don't think min heejin's concept for newjeans is original or considered "hers" but since most people associate that concept with newjeans, it's safe to say that illit's creative director probably got it from newjeans anyways. another thing about hybe tho is that i don't think they've been doing strong concepts for their groups. txt did have a strong one initially but bighit just stopped trying for them (probs bc their team got moved to source music 🥲) i think belift did a good job with keeping the vampire concept for enha consistent and i was initially scared that it would stop after hybe fully acquired cj enm, but i think they've recognized that enha just has too much connected to their vampire concept (their webtoon, storyline for their music videos) but enha's also been neglected by hybe a lot so screw them 🚶‍♂️

i hope this issue doesn't mess with comebacks either :/ it's like suspiciously right before newjeans' comeback, which throws me off because i feel like there's always some shit min heejin's pulling right before or during their comebacks (ex: inserting herself in the OMG music video at the very end) and it's so weird to me how she always talks about them as if she's the sixth member 😭

[icarusredwings]

This only fits into my idea that Wolvie is demi. Sure he knows someones hot when he sees them but he dosn't really... feel anything.

He's been alive so long that people doing stuff to him just feels... kind of annoying at this point? Like yeah, okay, in Logan the drunk wife girl flashed her tits at him and he snorted, and rolled his eyes all embaressed but I don't think this counts as "hot and bothered." I think this counts as "omg lady calm down lol im just the driver lol" he did think it was a nice gesture but its an empty gesture and thats why it dosn't really do anything for him.

I think this is why he and Kurt get along so well (HERE ME OUT) Because one of kurts biggest "flaws" is that he is extremely touchy, and while the other x men cant touch logan much or lean on him, sit on him, etc, Kurt can full pearch on him and Logan dosn't care. Actually he does care. He's glad. He's happy that Kurt feels this safe with him. Happy that he feels comfortable enough to be around "the angry guy with claws". Happy that Kurt openly gives him affection without there being this weird "okay now we have to fuck" silent agreement. Logan is so tired of trying to get to know someone, cuddle them and hug them, without them immediately expecting them to sleep together. (*JINGLES KEYS* Stay with me!)

And i mean... no.. hes not sex repulsed clearly but it dosn't feel right in his chest. To fuck someone and then they leave. Wolverines mate for life so I think the thing is, what gets him hot and bothered is proving youll stay. Sticking it out with him through all times, telling him you're never going to leave him.

Then- Oh good golly then? Everything is horny worthy. You could just be sitting there and he'd get all pissy because now hes horny and mad about it. You could cassually bring him food and say you thought he might be hungry and he'll let the food get cold because hes too busy fucking you, and then eat the food after to show gratitude and appreciation.

Logan is not meant for hook up culture. He is made for "Our souls are so intertwined that seperating us would put a tear in the universe."

He could see someone whole ass naked and just blink and ask where their clothes went. You could tell him that you want him to do the dirtiest things and he'd probably just blush and think you have alternate motives.

I like to think that he does sometimes finally accept a hook up here and there simply because A. Why not. He hasnt been held in awhile and B. Why not he's literally gonn live forever might as well get some tail if they're offering.

But if and when he finds that person(s) he's locked in. Theres nothing no one else could do that would make him all hot and bothered. Someone could literally give him a lap dance and hed probably just sit there confused as hell, tell them stop, or just leave. It doesn't do anything for him at all.

Now litsen (at least in Finding Home Au, cause theyre married) Wade could come slip into bed with him, very gently rub his arm, kiss him goodnight, then cuddle into his back and Logan would automatically sit up and glare at him cause now hes hard.

"Why do you keep doing that?! Stop!"

And wades all confused "stop what?" Cause hes genuienly tired, but too bad cause Wolvie puts that baby to sleep a different way. (Best sleeps of his life btw)

Morph too, I feel like in 97 morph gets a lot of passes for jokes and touchiness. I also feel like that for the first week (maybe a month idk logan is dumb) or so logan thinks moprh is joking and dosnt actually care about him in that way, so morph starts saying more genuine and sensitive things to him and Logan now is actually blushing, still in denial but is catching butterflies, hoping that morph isnt lying but is too scared to make a move, worried their friendship will end.

Man idk what to say about storm. Logan was hot for storm the first time she punched him in the face. Idk what to tell yall, hes a simp for that woman and I am too so like I get it. Id be terrified to fuck storm though if I was litTERALLY MADE OF METAL like bruh he has more balls then me cause id be scared shed kill me after I ate her out by electrocuting me with my skull crushed between her thighs. ANYWAY

🫡���GLORRRY GLORY WHAT A HELLUVA WAY TO DIE 🪖🪖💪

I think Logan would be very difficult to get hot and bothered. Like. He's been through so much yanno?

Like flash a titty at this man and he'll probably be like, "what the fuck am I supposed to do with that? Can't you take me to dinner first?"

[strawberryjamsara]

i can't understand people who look at the royals bad end and go "omg its so 🥺 they're all so happy🥺" cause I literally had to read what happens on wiki cause i couldn't stomach watching a video and just (basically) betraying akechi like that also the way maruki talks about akechi "being able to atone" and shido still being in jail means that like in his perfect world akechi was still forced to be an assassin?

i also think its really weird that this perfect world has like joker... still in tokyo yknow? like if it was perfect he would of never had to transfer in the first place🤔so like does he still get arrested? deoes he still form the phantom thieves?

this also just mainly how i read it but during like the start of the 3rd sem when jokers like trying to get back the other phantom thieves, what i saw was joker seeing his friends in these perfect lives(without him) and then backing off?? like we could of been given a way to hang out with them (maybe even to try and swing the player into thinking its okay?) but joker doesn't.... and idk where im going with this

I feel like… There’s so much fridge horror to Bad End Royal. There’s the fact Sumire Yoshizawa is effectively dead and her corpse is walking around with her sisters face. Maruki didn’t even bother reviving her sister for his perfect reality because Sumi felt too insecure around her so obviously the solution is letting her rot in the ground.

Akechi’s entire personality has been rewritten to be the perfect pleasant boy. Maruki just took away everything he was to make him a little trophy husband for Akira. How sick is that?

Yusuke and Haru are back with their abusers. I know the game likes to play it up that Haru’s dad was such a great guy but they sure don’t do that for Madarame! They’re both with the people who abused them forever but those people are just good now.

In fact lots of bad people have been redeemed. Maruki zaps them with the redemption ray because they’re good now but oh- oh. Shido is the one who shut down his research. And he’s still in jail. Yeah I definitely trust this man to be our caring unjudgemental god.

There’s the people who hit slumps in their career who Maruki changed the entire passion and life goals of. He can just change what you want.

Also Makoto’s dad is a cop. And he’s alive and well. So I’ll let you connect the dots on that one.

[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.

[leviiattacks]

teacher!levi and teacher!reader headcanons please 🥺

author note :: i expected for this to be better but idk,,, um, you know maybe it’s just me who wishes i executed it better but i wrote this at 3am that’s my excuse. ANYWAY I HOPE U ENJOY ANON :-))) i know it’s not headcanons but here!! also my ask box is always open to feel free to drop by !! 

word count :: 5.4k (after i had to severely cut the word count down because my tumblr wouldn’t let me post the longer version with more detail,,,,)

honestly you’ve never fit in well with the math teachers in particular but you’re still amicable with most

however, there’s one unbearable member of the group that happens to want to play jump rope with your patience constantly

and that person just so happens to be mr ackerman

every single staff meeting the both of you sit furthest away from each other whilst silently exchanging bitter glares

maybe it’s his stony disposition or his unrealistically harsh grading system that makes him seem so off putting to you.

or perhaps it’s your soft and gentle approach to teaching that drives him up a wall

but to make matters simple, the two of you have never got along. nearly everything he says you disagree with and nearly everything you say he has to rebuke.

every outlandish suggestion of his at meetings is met with firm disapproval from you and every time you bring up wanting to provide the children with more time for extracurricular activities he sneers in annoyance

today he’s proposing a plan to set exams as soon as possible

???

you wonder if he’s even thinking with his head attached to his neck because it’ll be impossible for the children to handle all of the content in the form of an exam paper so soon

the workload he’s been pushing onto his math class has become far too ridiculous for your liking and you want to put an end to the man’s reign of terror

it just so happens your classes are scheduled in the blocks next to each other meaning he always sees your students an hour before you do

it’s got to the point where your pupils trudge into english class completely EXHAUSTED

the other day a boy fainted because of lack of sleep and now mr ackerman has the audacity to put forward the exam dates???

“we need to instill these children with discipline. taking them by surprise will give them a much needed reality check.”

you groan at his speech and raise a hand

“may i interject?”

professor ackerman’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek the irritation is painted on his face but he nods although he seems reluctant

“these children do not need standardized exams to-”

“would you like for me to completely scrap exams from the curriculum?” without even allowing for you to present your argument he has to cut you off with a mocking grin

“levi, i think-”

“that's mr ackerman to you.”

his blunt correction has you rolling your eyes because YES!! you understand the two of you aren’t exactly the best of friends but he doesn’t even want to be on a first name basis with a colleague of two years??

his pettiness has your blood boiling in searing displeasure

“you have to stop going so hard on these children.”

he’s shuffling through some paperwork not even batting an eye in your direction.

“personally, we aren’t hard enough but of course the english teacher has trouble understanding that.”

the jab he makes at your job only causes the anger inside of you to bubble up again

why does teaching english have ANYTHING to do with this???

“you teach math yet you can’t calculate the reasoning behind your subpar love life. do not insult english.”

personal insults are your favourite to throw at him because he always gets so riled up

and actually for once you have the answer to a math question.

the reason why his love life is so uneventful has to be because of this :

his personality + his obnoxious humour + his looks = a good looking but undatable man

his jaw clenches and the grip he has on the stack of papers in his hands strengthens

ok,, that is kinda hot but that is not relevant at all

you’re able to make out miss ral one of the other math teachers make a move to speak and god you fight the urge to punch her every day because she’s always gushing about mr ackerman

seeing as you don’t want to punch her or anyone for that matter you turn to give her a “if you speak right now i swear to god i will lose my shit” look

she gets the memo incredibly quickly because her mouth closes shut immediately

mr ackerman takes a sip out of the cup of black tea next to him. “i would appreciate if you just sat back and let me do what’s best.”

“children fainting in my lesson is not what’s best.” your rebuttal catches him off guard and he seems more than a little surprised

“wait- fainted??”

you eyes flick over to mr zacharias, you had told him to pass the message on but the way he’s sheepishly looking at the floor avoiding your eyes clearly tells you all you have to know

“looks like someone forgot to pass the message onto you but the other day falco fainted in english.”

“is he- is he okay?? did he say why?”

eyebrows raising you’re quite surprised to see any sort of reaction from him let alone concern

“he stayed up all night completing your homework.”

lips pressing together into a fine line it almost looks as if he’s guilty

“i’ll talk to him about it later.” his voice is back to its usually plain tone and any trace of his previous worry has been masked.

an awkward silence follows. he coughs choosing to not continue the discussion about exams.

principal smith takes the hint and moves on to discuss planned school trips

HOORAH victory!!!

yet another day where you’ve saved your students

“who is fallacy and why are they pathetic?” a few snorts and giggles are heard around the class and you force yourself to laugh at falco's miserable attempt at a joke

you’ve noticed falco’s been cracking more jokes around his new seat mate gabi.

she’s small but feisty always willing to debate and she’s really a joy to teach although she can get a little bit aggressive with the others at times

honestly it’s quite obvious that falco has a fat crush on her. well, actually it’s been obvious from the moment she step foot into your class

and... you couldn’t just ignore the way falco looked at her could you?? and there was an empty space next to him too sooooo, what harm would there be in placing the two together?

it seems as if your attempt at getting the both of them to talk has worked. gabi and falco compete desperately for the top position in the class and are two of the best students you’ve had in a while

also after the day falco fainted in class gabi has been noticeably nicer. things like asking if he’s drank water or how much he’s slept

you have a small inkling that she may like him back

and the budding romance is adorable to you because you too once had childhood crushes

it feels rather nostalgic to see the two interact

but today you notice the two aren’t in

in fact, you notice half of the class isn’t?

“where are the others?” your question sends a jolt through one of your present students but he stays silent choosing to pretend to clean his glasses as a distraction

crossing your arms over your chest you walk over towards his desk

“udo, you can tell me what it is.”

“professor ackerman said not to tell.” udo looks petrified and you’re just kinda wondering what in the hell is going on

lucky for you his resolve is thin and he quickly cracks under pressure

“okay. you can’t say i told.”

nodding in agreement he looks around making sure no one else hears what exactly it is he’s about to disclose

“he’s kept some people back to talk to them about something top secret. i don’t know what but he asked for the students who like you.”

at that you feel a little bitter because if he asked for the student who liked you why on earth is half the class still here??

but oh well, you guess you can’t please them all

“oh no, no, no. you’ve got it wrong. we all wanted to stay but he didn’t let us.”

udo looks genuine so you let it slide

either way it doesn’t really matter as long as the majority prefer you over that sick and twisted math teacher you’re alright

“he does know he’s cut into my class time right?”

“falco told him that and he whispered something about how you’re bothersome.”

you???? bothersome???

WHEN HE’S THE ONE BOTHERING EVERYONE?/!:£:!/)

you don’t even look back as you walk out frankly furious at what’s happened

english is important

ACTUALLY!!!

ENGLISH > MATH

you will stand by that till the day you die

your knuckle meets with the wooden surface of your sworn enemy’s classroom door and almost automatically you’re able to hear the shuffle of chairs and padding of numerous footsteps approach

the door swings open and you step aside to allow your missing students to pass through

they look nervous but one look at your reassuring smile lets them ease up and relax

“well.” a voice behind you snaps “look who paid me a visit.”

“we’re talking about this later.”

you try your best to sound serious but you don’t know if you pull it off as well as he does because he just ends up giving you a disappointed sort of look

“y/n. stick to being the good cop it suits you better.”

“we are not on first name basis. you said it yourself.” is your narrowed comeback

finally turning to face him you’re surprised when your eyes travel to the triangle of space behind him and you’re able to get a peek of what looks to be a list of books on his whiteboard

pride and prejudice

wuthering heights

jane eyre

ville-

before you’re able to read the rest he moves in front of your line of vision

he’s got quite the selection but,, when did he of all the people on this planet start showing any interest in literature?

“the books on the board what’s that about?”

your inquiry flies over his head and he shuts the door behind him completely

his face doesn’t move and if it does it only shows the slightest hint of confusion

“what books are you talking about?” he replies and don’t know why your knees feel a little weak when he looks you straight in the eyes

snap.

out.

of.

it.

“i saw books on the board.”

“you saw wrong.” he barks back and he’s getting agitated now

maybe you did imagine it...

and you have to get back to teach your class so okay fair enough you’ll let it go because you do know you have a habit of daydreaming randomly

however that doesn’t stop you from giving him another skeptical look before you leave because there is NO WAY you imagined it, but it is you and it really could be a possibility

the click clack of your heels against the floor sound out as you remove yourself from the conversation

you assume he’s returned to his classroom

that’s why it catches you by surprise when you hear a hesitant voice behind you

“there were no books on the board.”

you don’t know why he has to tell you that again because it only makes himself look all the more suspicious

“but if they were a list of book recommendations then what would you recommend i read?”

the question is peculiar coming from him

are you in an alternate universe?

is this a dream?

are you talking to a clone?

a robot?

because this can NOT be the same man you’ve been working with for two years

maybe he’s having a change of heart?

but that sounds unlikely

maybe he’s planning to read the book and somehow with that big brain of his formulate a calculation to score it a measly two out of ten

yeah. that sounds more likely.

nevertheless, you still want to give him a recommendation, maybe he’ll find out he’s into books this way

“you should totally check out pride and prejudice :-)”

for once you’re smiling at him and he doesn’t know what to do because the change is sudden but he doesn’t say a word after that

instead he retreats into his classroom

god.

now you’re sure he’s just asked to form a stupid calculation or whatever the hell it is math teachers do.

“he likes you.” hange has a shit eating grin on their face and you can’t help but narrow your eyes and sigh in exasperation

no he does not like you but you don’t try to correct hange because you know they’re firm in their stupid belief

“would you ever date him?” hange fiddles with the last of their potato salad absentmindedly waiting on your reply

the question literally has you choking on your lunch

“i would rather fight for survival in the wilderness. thank you for asking.”

“oh come on... he’s got a thing for you. you read romance novels all the time you should be able to tell he does.”

“yeah and that thing he has for me is wanting to shove my head onto a pitchfork. you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” shoving a piece of pasta into your mouth you sigh dreamily at the taste. it serves as a momentary distraction

you get one lunch break and you are not!!!! in the mood to talk about him whilst you’re on that break

he’s attractive

and you have to admit he looks handsome in his crisp white button up and pristine black suit AND his cologne is really...

okay, you are digressing from the point

none of what you just said means anything!!!

at surface level he seems like a catch but it’s what’s on the inside that matters and he said he finds english stupid

that’s more than enough of a reason to dislike the guy?

he thinks stuff like the pythagorean theorem and y = mx+c are entertaining

y = mx+c ??? over literature???

you read books to teach and you read books for your own enjoyment

it would be a complete travesty if you had a crush on a book hater

and levi ackerman most certainly can be classed as a book hater.

a pessimistic book hater if the specifics are needed

“OH! SORRY Y/N GOTTA BLAST MOB’S OVER THERE!!!!!”

you don’t even get the chance to say goodbye because hange makes an eager run towards moblit

hange and moblit are inseparable, both are the shared heads of the science department and since he’s been off on sick leave recently you understand why hange’s rushed off to greet him

you wish you had a teacher friend like that but the sad truth is you’re pretty much a lone wolf. the other english teachers are wrinkly old pickles and talk about antiques or quiz shows :-(

“this seat free?”

no way.

it’s not him

it can't be

what does he even want??

“um, well yeah it is free b-.”

“good.” he takes the seat without you even inviting him and now you’re stuck in an awkward situation you didn’t even expect to be in today

you're about to burst into tears because is it too much to ask for a peaceful lunch period???

mr ackerman clears his throat and places a book in the center of the table. “pride and prejudice although not my cup of tea was... mildly enjoyable.”

wait...

is this him...

admitting defeat!??

HELLLOOOOO

you are over the moon right now because you know he really had to have enjoyed it a lot and is simply choosing to withhold that information for his own reputation

“i’m happy to hear you took a liking to it.” you’re munching away at your pasta a little more upbeat now

“okay but the start of the book assuming all single men want a wife? no, all i want is a good night’s rest for once. also mrs bennet needs to calm down, elizabeth can marry who the hell she wa-”

“someone’s a little passionate aren’t they?” you giggle into your glass of water and you catch mr ackerman frowning

“i liked it okay.”

“i thought you said it was only mildly enjoyable just now?” grinning and looking at him through your lashes his cheeks become red

you guess he’s angry or something but that’s the usual with him

“yeah, whatever. i just wanted to play fair and apologise.”

“apologise?” oh wow, now your interest has really peaked because never in the past two years has he apologised to ANYONE

not even principal smith for the one time he flipped out and nearly cursed at a mouthy student at parent's evening

grimacing a little before he does it he finally speaks again.

“english is important. i’m sorry.”

your lips tug up into a bright smile

well???

this is a great interaction??

an apology coming out of levi ackerman of all people

“apology accepted! i’m glad to know you liked the book but now that we’re a tad bit friendlier with each other i wanted to ask for a favour.” your eyes gleam and he swears he can see specks of shining stars in them

“...okay, it depends.”

he’s warming up to you so he considers it

“please don’t cut into my lesson time levi.” his name slips out of your mouth but it’s so natural you don’t even care to correct yourself

“i’m sorry about that too y/n.” your name now ventures out of his mouth too as it tests the waters

wordlessly the two of you agree to first name basis

BUT more important matters are at hand such as how he’s issued you yet another apology?

this is satire surely

because why is he so willing all of a sudden...?

well, that's the power of pride and prejudice, wow you’re really thanking the heavens for blessing this world with jane austen’s existence

jane austen. a woman capable of remarkable things, she's even managed to make an unmoving book hater somehow become a lover

poking at your tuna pasta you and levi are now quiet.

“soooooo, any opinions on mr wickham?” you ask the question hoping to initiate a longer conversation than before

and luckily for you your attempt works

SUCCESS!!

levi pinches the bridge of his nose and the creases on his forehead show he clearly isn't particularly fond of wickham

“don’t get me started he’s so indescribably annoying?”

ok, ok, ok

you don’t even know how it happens but you and levi really hit it off

weeks have passed and you and him have even become lunch buddies

it was so shocking to moblit at first that he dropped his lunch on the floor when he saw you and levi enthusiastically exchanging words

then again, two mr wickham haters are bound to get along

you’re seriously wondering how the two of you ever survived as mortal enemies

yeah, you still disagree a lot but you’re getting there!!

sometimes he helps you out when your computer stops running and in exchange you’re willing to offer him book recommendations

he swears he doesn't want any recommendations from you but you know he enjoys it

yesterday he got microsoft excel out and showed you how useful it really was and you went :O because you never really understood the need for it at all

you’re a little bit of a granny when it comes to tech...

and just today at lunch you recommended he checks some plays out but his nose wrinkled at the mention of shakespeare so the both of you went through a long list of dramas and eventually you were able to interest him in j.b. priestely's an inspector calls

another victory for you!!

anyway, right now the two of you are sitting inside of the staff room seeing as it's that time of the month again.

time for the monthly staff meeting

it's the first one you've had since you and levi became friends and you're worried the both of you will be back at it butting heads

wait, are you friends?

well, you wouldn't mind if that were the case but to be honest you would like to be a little bit more than friends mayb-

no!!! no!!! no!!! stupid thought!!! you retract that statement immediately

no you do not want to be more than friends with levi ackerman, yes he's lovely to a degree but you are not going to elaborate on why it's a terrible idea to fancy him

okay wait, let's elaborate for the sake of elaborating

he's surprisingly charming and wittier than you thought he would be. the fun conversations are making your days now and to be honest it is nice to have someone to spend lunch with (hange usually skips out on lunch all together to tinker in the science labs and set up experiments)

wait... weren't you suppose to explain why you don't want to get with him?

you're an idiot and you don't notice how dumb you really are until everyone just kinda gawks at the both of you because it's so odd seeing you in the same room let alone within a three feet radius of each other.

fuck, you completely forgot you and levi sat at opposite ends of the room

principal smith enters and even he looks visibly shocked at the change in seats but he doesn't mention it and you're grateful he doesn't because you didn't purposefully sit here it just happened on accident

erwin turns in your direction and smiles

"would you like to start off with your proposition for extracurriculars?"

nodding your head you begin passionately.

"well, i'd like to say i don't think we offer the children enough. we have spare funding so why not open another club? cooking perhaps? i understand many of you may not understand the importance of teaching them how to cook but-"

"do you have an obsession for setting these children up for failure?" tensing up you notice it's levi who's spoke and he doesn't sound remotely happy

blinking once and then twice he realizes his tone isn't the best and he mutters an apology "sorry, go ahead i'll add in when you're done."

whispers travel through the room straight away

"did he just say sorry?"

"actually why are those two sitting together?"

"do you think they're you know...?"

miss ral who's sat a little further away is the next person to disagree with you

"i understand the intention but would it not be better to let them have extra math lessons?"

"oh, so you can get a pay rise?" the comeback you make is aggressive and dripping in displeasure

she sits up face burning up

"no- no- absolutely not i take pleasure in teaching all of my classes." flustered and trying to hide her nerves she takes a sip out of her water bottle

you want to pour all of the water out onto that ginger hair of hers

the reason why her interjection is getting on your nerves is due to the fact you overheard her and another one of the math teachers plan to bring this specific point up

and you are well aware that her reasoning behind it has nothing to do with the children

she couldn't care less about them

"do not make me repeat what you and mr bozado were chit chatting about earlier today."

the threat is enough to silence her and just when you think you've handled the situation levi has to give his input

"let's ignore petra's motivations and talk about how teaching these kids how to cook means nothing if they have no tradable skills to offer in the real world." levi's not looking at you. he's either too annoyed or too preoccupied with his thought process

at that moment you feel naive, you thought maybe he would try to understand your opinion seeing as he's been spending so much time with you as of recent but that looks to not be the case

murmurs of agreement fill the room at his statement and you feel pathetic

it's practically the entire room against you now

genuinely how is it these people can manage to be such spoiled sports about everything?

"recently, i asked all of my classes to write an essay about school stress. maybe you won't understand my views because you haven't read their pieces but they need a fucking break." the expletive flies out of your mouth without warning and you flush in embarrassment

that

was

not

professional.

"oh god, i'm sorry i got worked up i shouldn't hav-" fumbling over all of your words you feel even more mortified

the principal raises his hand signalling you stop and you clamp your mouth shut. you're in huge trouble that's for sure

but,,, in spite of the clear difference in opinion between you and the other teachers, soft and well spoken principal smith says the unthinkable

"i have the final say and i believe you are coming from a good place after reading your student's work. how would you feel about running the new cooking club?"

scanning his face for a second you can tell his question is legitimate and the wave of relief that washes over you has never felt better than ever

sighing contently you agree and as the topic of conversation shifts to something else entirely you sense your heart rate picking up

you feel like you're back to square one with levi.

it's yet another day where you’ve saved your students and you should be feeling overjoyed but if anything you feel a little deflated

you wish he would have come around and understood but you can't teach and old dog new tricks

again, the feeling of disappointment wears you down

two weeks have passed since then and your favourite time of year has come. it’s spring term meaning MACBETH

the english curriculum includes plays and it just so happens that today is your first lesson covering shakespeare

and you LOVE shakespeare

something about all the intricate foreshadowing always has you excited

but some children are missing

and it’s way too many to blame on sickness

so you wait for a few minutes but it's consistently radio silent

the last time this happened the culprit had been levi and he promised to never cut into your lesson time

but you could count on him to break his promise after the fiasco that was the monthly meeting

is he back to hating you and hating literature?

well, that's his loss if that's the case!! and no!! you will not upset yourself over the loss of the budding friendship

sighing you get to your feet making a beeline to the door but gabi and falco rush to stop you

awkward chuckles activated they wave their hands to get your attention “OH NO, they’ll only be five minutes!!” their sentence comes out as one big blur of words but you manage to understand them

now you’re doubtful because you know falco and gabi would usually ignore you and allow you to walk out

giving them a knowing glance the pair look between each other

their eyes are clearly communicating and asking if it’s alright to tell you

“i promise i won’t be mad.” you sigh

perhaps if you reassure them they’ll be more likely to spill the beans

“it’s not that you... i don't know. you might be upset.” gabi isn't one to care much for other's feelings so you're slightly anxious even though you shouldn't be

but you’re a tough nut to crack. so, absolutely not. you are not going to upset yourself over whatever it is

“i won’t be hurt. i’ve suffered through reading some of the most emotional classics to ever exist.” hitting your chest with your fist you wince a little because you hit yourself a little too hard

falco’s seems to be too shy to come out with it so gabi takes the lead as she normally does

“some students were talking badly about you so mr ackerman kept them behind to have a talk.”

oh.

yeah, actually you are a teeny weeny bit disheartened because you think you’re nice to all of your pupils but it’s nothing too bad, not everyone will like you

“if that’s all i’ll go get them. thank you for letting me know.” giving them two thumbs up you leave the class immediately

levi is probably scolding them to hell and back

not because he cares for you but because he hates disrespect in general

as you’re nearing the open door of his classroom you hear something you never thought would emerge from levi’s room

“final question. why does mr darcy say he doesn’t want to dance with elizabeth at first?” oh yeah, that’s levi’s voice for sure

an english question?

is he quizzing them on pride and prejudice?

you wait hoping your students don't fail you and are able to provide the correct answer.

“ummm... she’s not pretty enough!!”

levi hums “you answered all five questions right. do you all know why?”

you can’t see the children’s faces but they have to be confused if there’s no immediate response

he grunts in agitation “because your english teacher works hard to teach you every single day. have some respect because that teacher of yours is one in a million.”

taking your bottom lip in between your teeth you fight the urge to smile

“do you know how at every single staff meeting there’s only ever one teacher fighting for you all and what you want. i can assure you that teacher isn’t me, but i believe you can all guess who i'm talking about.”

your heart does a back flip in your chest and you feel jittery but in that really fuzzy good way

like that super duper fuzzy and hazy good way

he’s really very sweet for saying all of this and you're now smiling like an idiot

one pupil takes a chance to make amends “we’re sorry mr ackerman.”

but before levi can give them a response you clap your hands together and walk in unannounced 

“apology accepted, now if you want to all be forgiven forever please return to class and answer the questions on the board!” directing them to the door with your hands you make sure they're conscious fo the fact you aren't mad at them

still, never have you seen them so eager to run off to analyze macbeth. you guess levi's deathly stare is the cause for it

holding back a laugh you clear your throat after the last student leaves

“thank you levi :-)”

it’s quiet for a second and you think to ask him about what has been gnawing at your mind

“you didn’t have to do that. you disagreed with me before so... why did you?”

“i say this at every meeting and you never listen but children need to be disciplined.” his unchangeable tone is unwelcoming

again it’s awkwardly silent and you sorta regret even coming over to see what was going on because now you and levi are just having an uncomfortable staring contest

then he scratches the back of his neck and heaves a heavy breath

“it may also be because i really fucking like you, but i look like an idiot saying that when we’ve been at each other's necks for two years.”

oh.

the sudden and brutally honest confession has the wind knocked out of you, you’re stunned

and then you get hit by it too. the realization hits you like rain hits umbrellas on stormy days. you like him too.

you like him for his witty sense of humour, his pure honesty and his hatred for mr wickham only serves as a bonus

yes, you have your differences. many of them. but you like him

he’s no longer a book hater and so by default you can fancy him. he goes against none of your guidelines essentially

you like him, he likes you back?’//’.;

[SCREAMS]

“well, what do you say? will you be this mr darcy's elizabeth bennet?” hearing the cheesy pickup line from him of all people has the butterflies in your stomach exploding in delight 

“you sound weird, where's the grumpy math teacher from before?" now you and him are simply shamelessly flirting but HEY!! you have no complaints at all

he scoffs at your sarcastic question

"do you want the equation for a two dimensional heart on a graph beca-"

"can i just kiss you?"

wOWIE are you being bold today y/n???

thankfully you don't have to wait for his answer. levi’s right hand pulls your face in and he slams his lips against yours. he gives your waist a squeeze and you hold him tighter by the neck in response. he has a way of somehow making it all feel gentle and relaxed in the same breath

and... you know what? maybe you should have recommended pride and prejudice to him earlier

but oh well.

what matters the most right now is that you're kissing your mr darcy!!

and he’s kissing his elizabeth bennet

:-)

[azucanela]

pls some headcanons for Bakugou, Shinsou and Shoto when the reader kisses them infront of everyone. Thank you :)

KISSING THEM IN FRONT OF EVERYONE

FT. BAKUGOU KATSUKI, SHINSOU HITSOHI TODOROKI SHOUTO

SUMMARY: in which you and the boys kiss in public, and now everyone is screaming. oh no.

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNING: season three spoliers, insecurities, arguments,

A/N: i wanted to do scenarios bc this was too good ugh thank YOU for requesting this 

BAKUGO KATSUKI

lol so HAVE FUN WITH THIS ONE

you two are already dating but you keep it on the down low because its Katsuki and he’s like ew people knowing i have feelings other than anger? ew ew ew

you’re fine with it, but if he thinks its bothering you he’ll talk to you about it and smother you with affection, but he’ll act like its nothing

wants to rub it in his faces that you are his girlfriend, yes, but also he doesn’t want the teasing that comes with it. he knows for a fact that all his friends would bully him because he is SOFT FOR YOUUU and he’s also just a generally private person

you respect this and like it’s fine woo yeah okay it’s nice being the only one that sees the side of him that’s all soft and cute and affectionate

i can’t really see the two of you slipping up unless it’s influenced by a lot of emotions

where do these emotions come from? you might ask

his kidnapping.

you were a mess, but it was lowkey, real lowkey. and unlike the others you do not support trying to save katsuki on their own, trusting the heroes to do their job is the way to go.

so you don’t go with them. the next time you see your lovely boyfriend is when he’s giving kirishima money

so naturally, consumed by all the fear and panic you felt while he was gone, you kiss him!

and he kisses you back and its really soft and oh-

what a shame the whOLE CLASS IS THERE 

everyone is really confused, but they’re happy because they think that the two of you finally addressed the clear tension between the two of you, all it took was a lil kidnapping

except then you pull apart, completely disregarding them, your hands on his face, “baby are you okay?”

you don’t call someone you haven’t kissed before baby

then it clicks for the rest of the class

SCREAMS.

so much yelling

oh god have fun with that one

the bakusquad is yelling at him for not telling him, the dekusquad is scolding you for not telling them, there’s just a lot of questionable things

katsuki will get SO FLUSTERED because this is not what we wanted

at least the attention was off of his kidnapping now

maybe that was your goal idk 👀

Katsuki really wished everyone would shut up about his kidnapping, it wasn’t something he wanted to think about right now, or ever if he was honest. So much had happened in the past few days and he was still struggling to process all of it, and the disgustingly warm welcome he’d received to the dorms wasn’t helping. It was gross. 

He’d shoved cash into Kirishima’s hand, rolling his eyes when he began to panic at the possibility that he’d taken it from Denki, shutting down the idea almost immediately.

And then he saw her.

Y/N was shoving past everyone and heading to him, and he couldn’t help the relief he felt when he saw her. Katsuki was grateful she hadn’t been involved in the little escape plan Deku had hatched out, but seeing her made him feel calmer than even as she practically tackled him, hands coming to his cheeks as she brought him into a kiss.

Their lips molded together perfectly, his hands coming to her sides and holding her like he’d never let go as her hands gripped his face rather harshly. It would have been the perfect moment, had the rest of his class not been there. 

Y/N seemed to disregard this as she pulled apart, eyes darting across his figure as his brows furrowed at her clear distress. “Calm down, idiot.” His cheeks are turning red as he realizes that everyone is staring, but he can’t help but focus his attention on her as he feels a wave of relaxation wash over him as she begins to run her hands all over him in search of injuries.

“Oh, I’m sorry, for caring about your wellbeing.” She grumbled, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso when her hands left his face. “Baby, you scared me.” His arms wrapped around her shoulders securely, as he rolled his eyes, though Katsuki wouldn’t deny he was appreciating all the attention she was giving him, he was beginning to feel embarrassed as he allowed her to hold onto him.

As if the kiss hadn’t been enough to astonish the rest of their class, the pet name simply amplified their shocked as they all cried out, “baby?” Kirishima had exchanged looks with Mina, who looked equally confused before returning their gaze to Katsuki, a look of betrayal evident on both their faces.

Stupid barbarians. “SHUT UP EXTRAS!” Katsuki exclaimed, holding Y/N tighter to his chest as his cheeks flushed red, he could hear her laugh against his chest. “Can’t a guy hug his girlfriend in peace.” 

“GIRLFRIEND?”

He was grateful for the subject change, though he didn’t appreciate the fact that his relationship had been exposed, until he looked back to Y/N, who beamed at him. 

If she was happy then it was fine he supposed. 

SHINSOU HITOSHI

welp

this one will probably have the funniest reaction

like

you did not just kiss him, in front of all these people, was that a joke?

i think he’s the only one you wouldn’t already be in a relationship with, purely because this is just 10x funnier

so ever since the two of you first started hanging, there have been people criticizing you for befriending him at all, because of his quirk, they just cannot believe that the Y/N L/N is hanging out with Shinsou Hitoshi

but also, ever since the two of you started hanging out, the bullying has lessened immensely, most because you threatened everyone it was really subtle, but they got the message

nobody screws with Y/N L/N

anyways, you two are probably hanging out again, and it’s been a while since you got one of those comments, which is the main reason this one sets you off.

“quit hanging out with that freak L/N, he’s gonna ruin your chances at becoming a pro.” 

shinsou was used to this, and your violent reactions, so he immediately brought a hand to your arm to ensure you didn’t commit a murder, shaking his head at you

you turn back to him, and you’re lowkey glaring at him before turning your piercing eyes back to the other guys

and without breaking eye contact with them, you grab Shinsou’s face, earning stares from everywhere in the cafeteria, and then kiss him

shinsou is shocked

shinsou.exe

you killed him.

he did not anticipate this um, you kinda caught him by surprise with this one, he genuinely did not think it was possible for you to feel this way for him

when you pull away, the kiss is almost like magic

you don’t mess with Y/N’s friends, much less their boyfriend

When Y/N beams up at Shinsou, he can’t help the way his heart skips a beat. It’s ridiculous, he knows this, and he hates that he can’t prevent it. Shinsou is no fool, he knows Y/N L/N, a UA student that could potentially be a member of the Top Ten heroes in the future, would never like him. He wouldn’t be shocked if she befriended him entirely out of pity, given how students used to treat him prior to their unlikely friendship. She’d weaseled her way into his life, despite his attempts to avoid her, ignore her, and even tell her off, she’d stuck around. 

And yes, Shinsou had made the mistake of liking her. On days like this, he’d entertain the possibility that Y/N liked him back, because sometimes she hugged him for longer than average friends did, or maybe she’d press a kiss to his cheek, or even hold his hands.

That was probably just something best friends did.

“Hitoshi! Don’t you know what this means?” She exclaimed, hands finding their way onto his shoulders in the middle of the cafeteria.

Yes, she used his first name.

Shinsou rolled his eyes, trying to keep himself from getting flustered purely because her hands were on him, “Y/N it’s not a big deal, and besides-”

“We’re going to be in the same class!” Her hands move from his shoulders to around them as she pulls him into a hug, “I’m so proud of you.”

He’s shocked that she’s saying these things, and its clear she has more confidence in him than he does. Aizawa had offered him daily training to get him onto the same level as the other Class 1-A students, and he’d be joining them the next semester, assuming everything went well. “It’s no guarantee.” He mumbles, wrapping his arms around her torso.

Shinsou felt Y/N swat his back as she pulled away slightly, much to his dismay, “you’re so talented! Of course, he’s gonna let you in.” 

She sounded so sure, and Shinsou felt his heart swell with pride. 

He moves to speak, only to be interrupted by a passerby, “L/N. Come on, quit hanging out with that freak.” Y/N recognized him, James, he’d bothered Shinsou before, and he’d tried to get Y/N to stop hanging out with Shinsou and been unsuccessful. “He’s just gonna ruin your chances at becoming a pro.”

Y/N pulls away slightly from Shinsou, her brows are furrowed as she moves to confront him, only for Shinsou to grab her arm, shaking his head. “Don’t.”

Turning to glare at the guy, Y/N scoffed, “is this because I rejected you?” 

“He asked you out?” Shinsou asked, but Y/N gave him a look that said they’d discuss it later. She could remember the day vividly, he’d asked shortly after she returned from hanging out with Shinsou, telling her she could do so much better, and so much better meant him. 

She disagreed. And now Y/N couldn’t help but feel bothered as their argument begins to draw attention from others within the cafeteria, she can see in the corner of her eye that Izuku has come to a stand. Though Iida is grasping his shoulder to try and prevent him from doing anything irrational, they all knew Y/N could stand on her own. 

James scoffed at her words, “you probably rejected me because he made you.” The implications were dark, the idea that Shinsou had forced Y/N to befriend him and reject James, though he’d never used his quirk on her and swore he never would. 

Shinsou found himself releasing Y/N’s arm, taking a step backwards as he sighed, only for her to grab his hand and yank him closer before taking his face in her hands and kissing him.

She was kissing him.

Oh.

Shinsou’s mind empties as Y/N pulls away, turning back to James as she says, “my boyfriend doesn’t need to make me do anything.” And the boy practically stomps off in frustration, grumbling about Shinsou’s stupid quirk or something of that sort. Not that either of them are paying attention as Y/n brings a hand to the back of her neck awkwardly, searching her mind for an explanation.

“Boyfriend?” His voice is soft, small, and he knows there are other people in the cafeteria but he can’t bring himself to care about their stares. 

Y/N turns to him, and she feels her cheeks warm as she tries to avoid his eyes, “well. Only if you want to-”

“I want to.” Shinsou replies too quickly, his cheeks flushing.

Y/N nods, “cool.” 

“Cool.” 

Izuku can’t help but beam as he watches the interaction, hitting Iida’s arm repetitvely as as he exclaims, “does this mean I’ll be able to study his quirk more?”

Tsu just sighs, “this means we don’t have to listen to her pining anymore.” 

TODOROKI SHOUTO

THIS ONE

probably the most relaxed about it, not flustered at all, you tried thoughh

your relationship isn’t really a secret, it’s just that neither of you are that into PDA. 

there will be occasional cuddling on the common room couch of the dorms during movie night, but that’s seen as normal to the rest of Class 1-A. during dates, there will be hand holding, a kiss on the cheek, an arm around the shoulder, otherwise most of the intimacy is reserved for your rooms

this lack of PDA is why class 1-A was completely unaware that the two of you were dating, 

though you hadn’t tried to hide it, you also hadn’t made it entirely public, you also lowkey thought everyone knew.

mostly because it was so blatantly obvious that shoto was in love with you, but the entire class thought he was unaware of his own feelings and you were just oblivious 

oh how wrong they were

you come into class one day and you see shoto and you’re just like lol hi babe and you kiss him, he kisses back, LIKE IT IS THE MOST NORMAL THING

he’s temporarily caught off guard because like i said you two don’t really do PDA, but he digs it, 10/10 would kiss you again in front of everyone, mostly because after all of the CHAOS that this kiss causes, the other boys in the class stop blatantly flirting with you

speaking of chaos

the class erupts into PURE CHAOS

so much yelling and screaming, they are so confused, have fun explaining that one

shoto is equally confused as to why they are confused and you’re just laughing because you knew this would mess with their heads. he ends up getting a little flustered by all the sudden attention the two of you are getting, but maintains his apathetic attitude.

Shoto places his bag beside his desk before pulling his things out one by one to place them onto the desk along with the small cup of coffee. Shoto wasn’t really the coffee type himself, he preferred tea, Y/N on the other hand had an obsession if he was honest. Of course, he enabled this obsession, he liked being the one to bring a smile onto her face. 

Yeah, he was whipped.

He could tell when Y/N entered the room because the atmosphere seemed to change entirely, she seemed to brighten everyone’s mood despite how early it was. Greeting their other classmates, she began to move towards him, seeing that he was holding a cup of coffee, Y/N raised a brow. “You drink coffee now?” She asked as she placed her things down. 

Shaking his head, Shoto extended the hand with the cup of coffee towards him, “it’s for you.” He explained, small smile on his face.

The rest of their classmates watched the interaction, Kirishima punching Kaminari’s arm as he exclaimed, “so manly!”

Bakugou scoffed from beside the both of them, “if he was really manly then maybe he’d actually ask her out.” Crossing his arms, he averts his eyes from the two, finding the class’s obsession with their relationship a tad ridiculous. Though everyone seemed to be at least slightly invested in the potential outcome at this point. 

“Whatever, Bakugo.” Mina says, “L/N has the prettiest boy in class wrapped around her finger- ugh! I want someone to love me like that.” She places her head in her hand, brows furrowing as she stares at the two. Y/N is smiling widely at Shoto, who returns her smile with one of his own. 

And then Y/N kisses him. As though this is an everyday thing. 

Mina practically jumps out her seat, and though Bakugo would never admit it, his mouth gaped open in shock as she cried out, “did you two just kiss?!”

Shoto’s cheeks are red as they pull away, though his face remains apathetic as he looks to the ground and Y/N replies, “can I not kiss my boyfriend?” She tilts her head in confusion, laughing slightly at the outburst and the clear shock in everyone’s faces. 

“Boyfriend?” Hagaruke cried out. “Why didn’t you tell us?!”

Y/N’s brows furrows as she looks to the rest of the astonished class, “did you guys seriously not know? I thought we were obvious, I literally call him by his first name-”

“We thought that was because you two were madly in love with each other but neither could confess!” Momo exclaimed suddenly, her cheeks flaming red at her outburst as she slaps a hand over her mouth.

Mina simply nods in agreement, “exactly! But now he’s buying you coffee and-”

Shoto shakes his head in confusion, “I often buy her coffee, normally she finishes it before we get to class.” He looks to Y/N, a small frown on her face, “today she woke up too late for me to walk her to school so I couldn’t give it to her then-”

“You’re so manly, Todoroki!” Kirishima exclaims, though Shoto simply looks at him in confusion as he removes his hand from Y/N’s waist. 

Shrugging, he takes a seat at his desk and Y/N speaks once more, “I just don’t understand how you guys didn’t know.” Standing beside him as he organizes his things while seated, Y/N runs a hand through his hair, and Shoto’s cheeks seemed to redden once more.

“You guys aren’t normally so touchy!” Uraraka has joined the conversation, shock clear in her features. 

Shoto nods in agreement,  “your behavior today is abnormal, Y/N.”

Now Y/N can feel her cheeks warm as she removes her hand and takes a seat t her desk, “you guys are weird.”

Izuku simply sighs, deflating almost as he watches the interaction and leans over towards Iida, “now I owe Kacchan money.” 

[princesable]

wwait please do tell ur issues with omori if u feel like it. as a somewhat omori enjoyer (<omocat sucks) i wanna see others' opinions as well

ok on my puter here u go. im not gonna write out like. an essay im just gonna list things out in bullet points because thats easier for me so sorry if this is hard to read/understand. quick side note i've played this game around 3 times because i love showing it to people so they can get mad about it with me. i feel like this is important because ive like. actually played the game and not pulling all of this out of a cut down letsplay (also just so no one gets mad at me i pirated it) but also my memory is awful. i am planning to play it again and actively take notes so i can write something more coherent. also putting it under a read more because i didnt realize how much i had to say about this

the story sucks tbh. like its an interesting concept that could have been done in an extremely impactful way but i felt nothing. like i didnt care about mari and i didnt care about sunny because he had like. no personality outside of "silent main character everyone likes". like if you dont care about mari the whole story falls apart. it relies very heavily on you caring about the two of them which is FINE but they do a really bad job of making me actually give a shit.

hero got like fucking nothing in the story and that bothers me like. outside of sunny we should have seen how mari's death impacted him the most because. you know. THEY WERE DATING? but we never get to spend time with hero. like all he is is "the nice one" i wish we got to see. anything with him but i swear they just weren't allowed to have him express emotions that werent extremely mild or something. actually now that i think about it it feels like hero was an after thought in like. everything. his dream word ability is barely used and when it is it feels like anyone could have done it. have it literally just be that he can flip switches is stupid. you could remove hero from the game and it would impact nothing.

AUBREYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY the church confrontation scene was like. GENUINELY GOOD? and then after that they just forget to do anything with her. like it pisses me off how that scene was actually good and the only part that genuinely got me to feel anything and then she just gets nothing. like her "bully" scenes are pretty good and i genuinely sympathized with her but it kind of felt like. you werent supposed to? idk if that makes sense because you totally WERE supposed to feel bad for aubrey but having the kel high fives directly after multiple scene where you make her cry felt so. fucking weird. maybe that was the point idk. aubrey's my favorite character i wish omocat knew how to write

SPEAKING OF KEL. I REALLY REALLY DONT LIKE HOW THE GAME TREATS HIM. he's supposed to be the comic relief but like. EVERY joke is either "kel is gross/stupid" or "aubrey is mean to him for no fucking reason" and it gets old really fast because he's just a kid??? like him and aubrey are just mean to each other thats their whole thing which is FINE i GUESS but its not funny?? its just incredibly mean spirited and not fair to him as a character. why couldnt he have just been silly without the game seemingly hating him for trying to have fun. like most of his moveset is based around being annoying its. its weird man idk. also the fact this is a fucking item in the game

when i got this for the first time i put my head in my fucking hands man this sucks.

Basil. basil could have been an EXTREMELY interesting character but hes just so. whiny. it gets old really fast. the final fight with him was pretty good i guess. i dont have much to say about him sadly because i just like. dont remember. nothing with him stuck with me. OH WAIT the black space bit where you repeatedly kill him in extremely gruesome ways was. kind of fucking weird. because hes 10. it was unnecessary like if you REALLY wanted the fact that sunny is trying so hard to repress anything that reminds him of what he did to be represented through basil dying you could have just done it a couple times idk. weird scene.

ok moving on from characters the art is. a lot. its very hard to tell the dream world party members apart because omocat just has really bad same fact syndrome, it doesnt help that they all have the same color palettes. speaking of color palettes why do the overworld sprites white wash kel and hero. its less noticeable with hero but like. come on man its not hard to color pick your own art

still on the art the fact everything moves is fun in concept but REALLY distracting in execution. theres been multiple fights (specifically sweetheart, the king crawler and humphrey) where i've gotten awful headaches and had to take a break because i felt sick from all the movement lol. also the animation for releasing energy does NOT help who thought making the screen shake that much was a good idea dear god. like seriously this game needs to have some kind of warning

using sweetheart as an excuse to talk about how the dream world its such a fucking slog. i UNDERSTAND the point is that sunny is doing everything in his power to not reach the truth so he creates roadblocks but oh my goddddddd its so annoying to constantly have the plot take a backseat so we can go to a wedding or go to a casino or GO IN THAT STUPID FUCKING WHALE. the fact that there is a fucking mod that removes the humphrey segment should say enough. like that part in particular was soooooo fucking bad. its so boring. the humphrey fight has THREE FUCKING PHASES. I DONT KNOW WHO THOUGHT THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA BUT THEY SHOULD BE KILLED. ITS AN AWFUL EXPERIENCE

the emotion system is an interesting idea but i wish they did more with it. once you figure out that everyone has one theyre best with you stop playing with them. it stopped being fun to battle because its just make aubrey angry -> make sunny sad -> make kel happy -> have hero do fucking nothing -> hit them. idk maybe they could have had like. special emotions for boss fights?? im not sure how that'd work but i wish they added little twists every now and then to keep all the battles from feeling the same.

the real world isnt much better honestly. all the aubrey shit made me angry and the battles are so weirdly unfair its just not fun. like it doesnt penalize you for losing real world battles but its like. idk they suck. also the fact it doesnt tell you food doesnt heal you in the real world fucked me up when i first played because i was so used to the dream world i spent all my money on soda and then spent the entirety of the real world on like 1 hp i cant add spoilers on tumblr so animal harm/death and suicide warning for this next part. if you dont want to read that theres nothing else after it so youre good to just stop reading now

i dont like the black space. like i briefly went over it in the basil segment but it left such a bad taste in my mouth. especially the part where you are seemingly "forced" to cut your fucking cat open as it begs you to free it and the only way to not hurt it is to kill yourself?? ok.

speaking of which the fact the only way to leave the dream world and wake up is to kill yourself complete with a little sound effect is weird to me. idk man omori is 10 im not exactly keen on watching a child kill himself several times.

honestly the games handling of suicide is gross to me. obviously i dont think you should never talk about suicide i think its a very important topic but they way its handled in omori is almost. glorified? idk if that the right word. omori/sunny can kill himself so many times in this game and i just found that a little weird. also basil can kill himself and you can see his body just. sitting there. ok im running out of writing steam if i think of anything else i'll make another post or you have any follow up questions let me know im gonna go watch scott the woz

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. To add to your collection of RS's old tumblr ask screenshots (LO canvas league era), i distinctly remember there was an ask where someone asked why is mortal realm so behind olympus technology-wise and RS responded something along the lines of technology timelines not being aligned "because the gods don't wanna share the goodies" (the quotations are her exact words, to be precise) and it was kind of an early red flag for me? I mean, the greek myths are all about gods helping humans and giving them the means to survive or about explaining natural phenomena that benefits humans whether it's prometheus with introducing fire or athena and hephaestus spreading the knowledge of crafts among humans or even ares and poseidon making way for the first court trial in greece on areopagus. You don't get the permission to "deconstruct" the myths if you don't even know what they are initially about

2. What makes me tick is RS makes everything up instead of working with mythology (first thing she'd have to do is to...ummm, know mythology but oh well). She seems to see original mythology as something limiting to her creativity instead of something that unlocks more possibilities for more interesting storytelling. If someone wants concrete examples, let's say persephone's half-bothers plutus and philomelus who'd make an interesting dynamic of maybe two protective/concerned older or younger bros (it'd lessen the portrayal of demeter's "bad" parenting) and she'd have a support system of two guys who don't have the motive to get in her pants, unlike , ykno, the rest of the male cast.  Also it'd even out the playfield between Perse and Hades finance and power-wise as Plutus is a god of wealth and Perse,aside from being a heiress, can also turn to her brother for financial help instead of being reliant on Hades all the damn time. Intead RS put Arion just for some lame joke of persephone having a horse brother and is stripped away from any familial connections (male or female) she has in myth so she'd fit in Hades's waifu mold with no risk of going sweet home alabama that myth implies so much

3. the fact persephone is barely over the age of 18 doesn't help when there's so much panels and art of her where's she's literally just naked. if she was 300 or smth we could at least know we are likely not looking at a naked underage girl, but instead it's like??? you're just praying youre not?? especially when she's around grown adults like hermes and hades?? rachel please i dont want to be put on a list -

4. i feel so bad for RS' partner because apparently hermes is based off them (and everyone knows persephone is her self insert) yet in comic hermes' whole purpose is to simp for a woman who literally doesnt like him and being a walking joke. like idk id be so offended my partner sees me like that?? like damn i cant even be with you in your fantasy?? you rather run off with blue mads mikklesen if given the chance?? anyway poor hermes and that kiwi i appreciate you 😭

5. I can’t take Persephone serious as a protagonist she failed to grow as a character in her own. She can’t do anything without Hades she didn’t fight back against Apollo, she failed to tell Zeus the truth, and hen warrant for her arrest was made she didn’t think about her mother at all being in danger! And her punishment was basically doing her job and growing her powers…?

6. "the art is subjective!" well i wish i wasnt subjected to it 🤔

7. I know this whole comic is full of un-self reflective hypocrisy, but are we really not supposed to find it stupid minthe is basically slut shamed for wearing a revealing dress around a child, but its perfectly fine for persephone to wear as revealing of clothing around the same child they're so concerned over? it's not even a cause of showing hades' hypocrisy, it's just straight forward "yep! minthe is evil no matter what but it's ok with persephone does the same thing!" like ???

8. There's something funny of LO fans trying to accuse Ava's Demon of ripping of LO as if it wasn't already published and popular in 2012, aka nearly SIX YEARS before LO even came out. Hell, it was HUGE on tumblr when RS was on it, there's no way she didn't know about it, and a lot of the LO characters seem awfully similar to Ava's Demon (Hades and Gils being a VERY obvious similarity). I'm not saying she did so, but if any sort of ripping off did happen, it would be from RS, not Michelle.

9. This is coming from someone who does have a huge age gap in their parents marriage(about 8 to 9 years apart) but the reason I don't see a problem with mine is that they both meet when they were MATURE ADULTS with jobs. Persephone cleary is not mature enough for Hades minus all the other problems with this relationship. 

10. LO fans hates Hadestown because tthey can't stand complexity, the cast and crew who love to shit on HxP, or the Persephone actresses who especially love to push a Hermes/Persephone supremacy agenda!!

[mumscarian]

runs in here super quick.

henlo astro <3 I hope you don’t mind me popping in rq dbfbh buuuuut, I’m trying to get a feel for redscape and their dynamic (def not for a certain au or anything 😳) and I’m politely asking for any head canons you have

OHHHHHHHHHHH oh my god you have come to the RIGHT place mochi!! ok ok here we go:

They both LOVE dancing. Like idk the word for it but ballroom? Waltz? The type with partners and stuff. It's fancy, its rhythmic, and impresses other people! Their favorite types are both Swing dancing, simply because that is my favorite and also the only one i know anything about lol.

Mumbo is often super shy and embarrassed when partnered with someone he's not used to dancing with, but even so he typically leads, only partially because in almost every given situation he is the tallest one. When he's not supremely anxious and overthinking every step, he gets really into it. Like, once he's in his element you can tell. He loves dancing and you can see it in every step. ^-^

Scar, on the other hand, is perfectly content to be the one getting swung around and twirled and stuff. He started learning how to dance in around s7 or maybe s8 simply because he thought it would look good for his image lol, but he also really enjoys it!! (though it mainly might be because getting spin dipped by Mumbo K. Jumbo is an Experience for the ages)

(Okay im done nerding out about swing dancing hsjhs)

Mumbo overthinks a LOT. That's not even a headcanon, he's just like that. (i mean, just watch him trying to reason out if eating potatoes was cannibalism or not!!) Luckily, scar has learned to tell when Mumbo's too deep in his own head, and always sorts it out real quick. Sometimes it's just him grabbing his hand and kissing it to let him know its there, other times he offers a random paradox or riddle for mumbo to think about rather than the Bad Thing (the equivalent of giving a dog a chew toy so it doesnt hurt its teeth on the leg of the kitchen table), or sometimes he does something very Scar-y, like falling into the boatem hole or a random pit without any rockets or building blocks in his inventory. Just something to pull Mumbo out of his own head! Mumbo has not caught on so far.

Mumbo can and will pick up Scar to take him places if Scar's in too much pain to walk himself. Scar was very surprised and very flustered the first time Mumbo did this. and the second time he did it. and the third. and the fourth. (i think you get the idea at this point)

Scar's got a thing for scary people. (cough cough Mumbo's killing spree in Last Life, Mumbo killing him in the first ep of s9, as well as Grian in, well, everything, but especially third/last life. Scar just sees a man covered in blood and goes 'hey is anyone gonna date that' and doesnt wait for an answer)

Scar LOVES the feeling of Mumbo's stubble, when he has it. He runs his fingers over Mumbo's chin all the time. (grian, on the other hand, hates it, and WILL make mumbo shave at the threat of doing it in his sleep. He and Scar have yet to reach a compromise. Mumbo is just happy Grian hasn't threatened his mustache yet)

Mumbo and Scar are BOTH scaredy-cats, but at least Mumbo acknowledges it. Scar just denies it over and over agains and then jumps ten feet in the air when someone walks up behind him and says 'hi'.

Scar canNOT tie a tie for the life of him, and he hasn't bothered to learn, not when mumbo can do it for him and Scar gets to unabashedly stare at him the entire time.

Mumbo gets SUUPER flustered with physical contact. Scar takes full advantage of this and takes every chance he gets to grab his hand and just fiddle with his fingers when mumbo is rambling about some redstone thing. He finds it super endearing to watch Mumbo try to keep talking, even though he's obviously distracted by scar playing with his hand.

Jellie likes to sit on Mumbo's lap when he's working at his desk. Scar just about dies every time he finds them both asleep, Mumbo's hand buried in her fur, like he fell asleep petting her.

Scar is the resident flirter in the relationship, but that just makes it so that the few times mumbo does flirt at him its 1000% times more potent. Scar absolutely can NOT take what he dishes out.

okeyyyyyyyyy that's all i can think of for now + its getting pretty late so uhhhhh thanks for sending the ask!!! I hope you like the hcs haha

[genshin-obsessed]

My (f/n) | Zhongli x Reader

Hello! This was originally a collab idea from a friend between like 5 people. The friend who suggested the collab pulled out and idk about others lmao so it might just be me. BUT I COMMITED AND DELIVERED SO! Cuz I’m responsible and amazing💖 anyway. It’s a reincarnation AU! Banner made by 🎭 anon! Thanks to @squeaky-ducky and @solies-scripts for helping me edit this💖

Extra sidenotes: Your previous self’s vision is pyro but you can choose whatever for the reincarnated version even tho it’s not mentioned. Also, Yehara and Lilith are my OCs (yes... more)

Length: 2.1k Summary: Zhongli loves and cherishes you above all else. One day, you’re snatched away from him and the world turns black for him. Yet somehow, a thousand years later, he sees you again.

The bright sun beamed down at the land below, illuminating everything in a golden glow. Zhongli stepped out into the light and closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh air.

Days like these were beautiful but they became a blessing all thanks to one person. A smile graced Zhongli’s beautiful features at the thought of them. His hand found its way onto his chest and he felt it steadily beat. He felt an overwhelming sense of serenity and it was all thanks to this person. You.

You, yourself, were a blessing in this archon’s life. He never thought he would ever feel like this. That he would ever feel love. What was love to archons? They usually loved the lands they resided over. The original archons held love for humanity and guided them.

For Zhongli, love was something of a general term. He loved the sun, the lands… today. But his love for you was something he couldn’t describe. Something the man of wondrous knowledge couldn’t understand.

Zhongli came to realize that love wasn’t something that could be easily explained nor did it need to be. Love gave him overwhelming happiness, so why bother trying to understand every aspect of such a beautiful idea.

The Geo archon walked through the city of Liyue and although he felt great joy, there was also a certain uneasiness. He paused and touched his chest once more as the anxiety grew.

Ultimately, the man ignored it, unable to find the root cause of such dread. He instead opted to find you, so you could settle his nerves a little.

***

“Zhongli!” You beamed once you saw him. He chuckled as you ran to him and wrapped your arms around his slim figure.

“You’re rather excited today,” he commented as he hugged back, “what brought on such elation?”

“Hmm, a very pretty man.” You said, cheekily. There it was, that smile of yours washed away any and all discomfort he felt.

“Oh, is that so? I’m quite jealous.”

“I wouldn’t be.” Zhongli chuckled once more as you leaned in and gave him a kiss. The sensation of your soft lips remained on his even after you’d pulled away. “What brings you here today?”

“I was thinking we could spend some time together. We could go for a walk, maybe set up a picnic since that’s what you wanted to do last time.”

“Really!? You’ll go on a picnic with me?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Your radiant smile was contagious as he found himself smiling in return.

“I’ll set it up!! It can be a late night picnic or- oh! Oh! Let’s watch the sunset! Then we can have our picnic. I’ll set up candles!” Your enthusiasm was always something Zhongli loved. It benefited him more than he could admit.

“Alright then. Where?”

“Our spot!” Zhongli teasingly tilted his head making you pout.

“What spot? I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

“Yes you do! Come on, Zhongli!” Zhongli leaned in and pecked your pouty lips before nodding.

“I do. Then I’ll meet you there?” You nodded with a bright smile.

“Yes! Exactly! I’ll have everything set up and I want it to be a surprise.”

Zhongli spent a little more time with you before he left, since you needed to prepare for the date. Only a few minutes after he’d left you, the anxiety returned. He touched his chest once more with furrowed brows. What was this?

***

You smiled as you started to place the items down onto the blanket. You’d been planning this picnic for weeks now and you finally had the chance to do it.

You set the cushions and small table you had brought, placing the candles and wine bottle. The food would remain in the basket to keep it safe from bugs since you had to wait quite a while. Hopefully your pyro vision was enough to keep it warm.

“Hello, are you (y/f/n)?” A soft voice called from behind. You turned around and saw a shy, but beautiful woman with long pink hair. The clothes she wore indicated she clearly wasn’t from here. She fidgeted with her hand, showing she was nervous.

“Um… who’s asking?”

“Ah, sorry! My name is Lilith but you can call me Lily. I was told you knew where I could find a um… Mr. Zhongli?”

Zhongli? Why was she looking for him? Finding her safe enough, you opted to direct her to your boyfriend rather than giving information about yourself.

“Oh, yes I do! He’s back in Liyue but you’ll find him at Wangshen Funeral Parlor.”

“Thank you so much!” But she didn’t leave. A giggle escaped her lips and she met your eyes, giving you a dreadful feeling.

“Y-yes?”

“So he’s not here with you… good.” In the blink of an eye, Lilith was in front of you. She threw you back causing you to fly into a tree. You let out a scream as your weakened body hit the ground. Pain shot through you and you weakly looked up at her.

“Wh-why…”

“Pitiful. You’d think he’d choose someone of his caliber but no. He chose someone weak and pathetic like you. Your pyro vision was wasted on you.” Woah, where did her soft voice and shy demeanor go?

“Zh-Zhongli…” you called out as Lilith picked you up and slammed you into the tree once more.

“Call him all you want. But he won’t get here in time.” Lilith repeatedly slammed you into the tree before a sickening crack was heard.

A weak whimper escaped your bloodied lips as the light faded from your eyes.

“H-help m-me… Zh… Zhong… li…” Lilith caught your limp body and picked you up. A wicked smile played on her lips as she walked to her destination.

***

It had happened all so suddenly. Zhongli was meeting an acquaintance to talk about his work at the funeral parlor when he felt a sharp, intense pain in his chest and back. He just knew.

He threw everything away, apologizing to his friend and practically sprinting to where you two were supposed to meet. There he was met with a grim sight.

The picnic had been set up almost completely, but the large tree behind it was covered in blood. The Geo Archon knew exactly who it belonged to. He finally noticed the letter sitting on the table.

Once he read it, he ran to the nearest Statue of the Seven in hopes of finding you and whoever took you. But it was too late. When he finally reached the statue, his heart shattered.

Your body was on top of the statue, laying across the lap of the stone man. Blood trailed down your arm that hung over the edge and dripped from your finger. Your lifeless eyes stared into nothingness, the final sign of your death.

A large pillar solidified in front of him and he quickly climbed up to get to you. Zhongli’s shaky hand slowly and hesitantly touched yours. Cold. You were so cold. Where was your usual warmth? Where was that dazzling smile that often chased away his sorrows? Where was the light in your eyes? Where was the joy you brought him?

“M-my… (f/n)...” he murmured in a sorrowful tone, “what’s… no. No, this isn’t happening.” He pulled you down and into his arms, wincing at how lifeless you were.

You couldn’t be dead, you couldn’t have left him. He jumped down to the ground with you tightly in his arms. His eyes stung and his vision started to get blurry. Crying? An archon, crying? The tears slowly slid down his pale cheeks. His voice cracked when he spoke up.

“Wake up, my love. Please wake up.” He begged looking down at you. The blood trickled down your mouth, a clear sign you’d been killed recently. Within the hour, actually. “P-please blink… please wake up. Please come back to m-me. I just… I can’t do this without you. I…” what could he say? What could he do?

Zhongli had failed. He’d failed to keep you safe and alive. He’d vowed to always protect you and he vowed to never let you get hurt.

The tears spilled down his cheeks and the pain in his heart grew. He took your face in his free hand and took a good look at his consequence. At his failure.

“Tell m-me this is just s-some cruel joke, w-wake up and tell me this isn’t real. I-it’s just a n-nightmare, right? Right?” Zhongli held you tightly with his head pressed against your chest. Nothing. He heard nothing.

You never blinked, you never looked up at him with that adorable giggle, and you never exclaimed it was a joke.

You really were gone.

***

How many years ago was that now? Almost a thousand? Zhongli had never gotten over your death and how could he? His first and only lover had been ripped away from him and he still hadn’t found the murderer.

There had been a significant change in Zhongli since then. He was much more reserved and defensive but he was also very protective of anyone he came to call a friend. Ever since losing you, he found it hard to love and care for people the same way.

There was a constant emptiness, a loneliness that never left. No matter how many friends surrounded him, he always felt empty. Food and drinks were tasteless and the world lacked color. No smile matched yours, no warmth matched yours, and he never found a pair of dazzling eyes such as yours. And he was sure he’d never see them again… or so he thought.

“Zhongli! Are you coming?” Yehara asked, making the man look toward her.

“Oh, sure. Let’s go.” Zhongli had met Yehara a few years ago and had helped her during a commission. She hadn’t been doing so well and he’d practically saved her. Ever since then, she stuck to him like glue. Although he wasn’t terribly fond of her from the beginning, he grew to like her. Once they were close enough, Zhongli finally opened up about you and your death.

Yehara swore she’d help solve the murder and wouldn’t rest until he knew. Zhongli had grown much closer to her than he anticipated. The relationship gave him complicated feelings, ones he didn't want to even deal with.

At first, he wondered if he had feelings for Yehara or else why did he feel so comfortable with her? Why did he feel so safe? Why did he often find himself seeking her out when he felt alone? He was scared because you were long gone but for him it was just yesterday. Zhongli didn't want to move on, no matter how healthy it was. He only wanted you, nobody else. Not Yehara, not another archon, no one but you.

There were many things he felt with you that he didn’t with Yehara. Her smile didn’t light up his world, her laughter didn’t echo in his ears, her hugs didn’t leave him tingling, and her words never stayed with him for more than a minute.

There were many nights he spent thinking about himself and Yehara. Was he in love with her? It took some time, but he eventually came to the conclusion that didn’t. He hoped she didn’t either.

“Zhongli! Stop dozing off!” Yehara said, making him look down. He chuckled and patted her head, before looking away.

“Sorry, sorry. It won’t happen ag-” Zhongli stopped abruptly, his golden-orange eyes widened. No…

“Oh come on Zhongli, you just said this wouldn’t happen again.” Yehara huffed and followed his gaze. He was looking into a group of people but after a few moments, her red eyes widened as well.

A person, looking EXACTLY like you was smelling some flowers at a stall. You smiled and Zhongli’s heart sped up immediately.

“It’s them… that’s my (f/n)... I know it.” The archon whispered.

“That can’t be… I thought…” Yehara looked at Zhongli only to look back at you. The duo watched as you nodded and purchased the flowers and turned towards them. When your eyes landed on them you froze, almost as if you’d seen a ghost.

“They saw us.” Yehara gasped, bringing Zhongli out of his trance. You did. You were looking directly at him with the same look of shock. Without wasting any more time, you ran towards him and stopped right in front of them. Zhongli’s heart was beating out of his chest and he clenched his hands. Why were you looking at him like that?

“You’re… Zhongli, right? I’m (y/f/n)... I know you from my dreams.”

“Dreams?” Yehara asked and you nodded, giving her a soft smile. You were more beautiful than Zhongli had described. She could see why he was so infatuated.

“I began dreaming about you when I turned 20.” That was an odd coincidence, since you were 20 when he first asked you to be his.

“You… know me?”

“I do. I only know things from dreams and as dreams not memories… but since you’re here in front of me, there has to be some truth to them. So will you tell me more?” A smile of relief appeared on his lips and he nodded.

“Of course, anything for you… my (f/n).”

[jiminrings]

Lunchbox lovers request:

So I would love to see a sit down talk between yoongi and mc. Just so like mc can sort her feelings out about everything, and like get advice about forgiving Kook. Idk, I just want those two to have a chat between besties.

-🐞

cold senior!y/n x stem major koo masterlist :D

yoongi will be on y/n’s team — always

“what do you want for dinner?”

yoongi had the best afternoon nap anyone could ever possibly have

it was a mid-afternoon nap actually and something about it just hit different this time

there’s days when it’s extremely warm y’know? not hot, but like uncomfortably warm

it was that uncomfortably warm afternoon when everyone’s collectively feeling sleepy?? turn the airconditioning on to its coolest and sleep without a shirt on and be surrounded by a pillow on both sides......?

yeah that afternoon nap awhile ago really put yoongi on a happy mood

he’s not asking what you want for dinner because he slept good :D

excellent afternoon naps aren’t the only things that make him this way!! lol you could also count days when he receives a random gift out of nowhere and the days when you replace the toothpaste instead of him

but really, whether or not he gets these instances, he genuinely just asks you what you want for dinner so he could either cook it or order it

“what do you want for dinner?” yoongi nudges you from your spot on the couch, about to invade your personal space again and lie down on your lap before you get to cooking

you only hum in response, your best attempt at returning his affection coming in the form of tussling his hair

“we already have dinner, yoongs.”

omg that’s nice then

“you already cooked dinner? even while i was still asleep? wow, look at you,” he praises you abundantly, attempting to pinch your nose when you dodge him

.... that’s the thing though

yoongi watches you visibly freeze when you were doing anything in the first place besides watch your show in a still position

“i didn’t.”

oh

if your dorm was already silent, it became even mORE silent now

if you didn’t cook, then that means-

“jungkook brought dinner.”

yoongi finishes for you and it’s the far worse equivalent of two mothers bringing their own turkeys for thanksgiving

the show you’ve been rewatching is white noise at this point that you can’t recognize anything in this room besides yoongi

it’s been two weeks

that’s literally half a month

two weeks ever since jungkook’s been pouring active effort into working for your forgiveness and normalcy with him out of his own volition

alright maybe you’ll just focus on the gray streaks in yoongi’s new hair <3

and maybe he’ll just focus on the blue stain on your pink pajamas because he put them in the same load when they were newly-purchased <3

yeah but no you can’t do this forever

he can’t do this forever

you and yoongi can’t do this forever

the two of you can’t keep dancing around each other whenever the mention of jungkook pops up because the two of you have two dRASTICALLY different perspectives

right now, yoongi’s just awkwardly laying on your lap and he’s can’t even look up ay the ceiling

“do you wanna talk about it now?”

you end up caving by asking him first, a sigh of relief from holding it in which makes him relieved because he didn’t want to initiate that

“yeah, let’s talk,” he pulls himself up and he’s now looking at you with much embarrassment, “can we even have this conversation while completely sober?”

yoongi’s really rEALLY looking for a distraction to help ease this discomfort in his chest

okay you get where he’s coming from

“you mean you wanna share a joint with me while we have a long-overdue conversation?”

you chuckle at the mental image of yoongi seeing literal stars and freaking out about it, probably crying while he chats to you

“mhmmm. would probably calm our nerves. o-or maybe just mine, atleast.”

to be honest, he doesn’t even have quite a clue on wHY he’s nervous!! it’s the two of you and you’ve always been comfy with each other

that’s the whole foundation of your friendship — you’re fully comfortable with each other and the two of you find it difficult to be this comfy with anyone else

if he really delves deeper into it though, yoongi would know that the reason he’s so nervous for this conversation with you is because he doesn’t want to fight with you

you’d only have occasional tiffs and arguments ever once in a while, but never a fight!!

he’s not assuming that your conversation would turn into a fight, but that possibility scares him still because what if he loses you?

:(((

and if the two of you do fight, it would be over a junior named jungkook who broke your heart and probably insulted you to your core

he doesn’t want to romanticize it either, but if the two of you do fight, yoongi would want it to be something entirely else

he’s willing to have a fight about being messy and how it frustrates you so much

he’d pick a fight over his clingy habits and how it sometimes makes you feel insecure

he’d pick a fight over how he wants to be your number one best friend so bad that it’s beyond unhealthy he’s making it a competition

he’d want a fight over him being a lil insecure of seokjin at times because the two of you get along so well and know much mORE things than he ever could and he can’t always be included in the inside jokes

what yoongi doesn’t want is to fight over jungkook.

“that sounds nice,” you agree because maybe you too are feeling a little antsy, “but we could do that after.”

he nods, his hands curled to his lap that he only meets your eyes now

“okay.”

oh my god

what now

everything’s put out of the way and it’s now the part when you actually tALK

“are you mad at me?”

you take the first approach and it’s already heavy right from the start, the question weighing especially hard in your mind the past few weeks

“what? no. i could never be mad at you,” he answers just as quick and precise, “i’m mad at him.”

“and i understand that.”

you really do know where yoongi’s coming from because after all, you’re the receiving end of all of jungkook’s words at the time

but that’s the thing!!!

that’s tHEE thing that bothers yoongi the most

you have this feeling of guilt because you feel like you’re betraying yoongi in a way

“then why are you letting jungkook in again?”

it’s as if it’s a double-edged sword and merely entertaining jungkook would be a stab in the back to yoongi, even if you don’t owe him anything

“because i understand him too.”

yoongi deadpans at that, a tired sigh falling instinctively from his lips but his mind’s more awake now

“god, seriously?” he shakes his head and outstretches his hands to hold your shoulders in place. “y/n you are the most lovable person i know. you believe him when he told you otherwise-“

“i-i know it isn’t true. it’s not true when it comes from jungkook.”

your voice wavers but it’s not the only thing that’s coming in waves, your resolve blurring even more when you see yoongi fighting back his own tears

“but when it comes from me i-“

“it’s not true either.”

all that yoongi does is take you to his chest the moment your body feels limp with the sigh that escapes you, a knowing body of tears coming next

your parents’ divorce is the furthest thing from fresh but the impact it placed on you renews without warning, the thoughts coming in waves

they were sure to reiterate over and over again that it wasn’t your fault, but god the way that they never even bothered afterwards made you think otherwise

“i-i just feel like a placemarker and neither of them came back for me, y’know? don’t get me wrong, i love my aunt to pieces and she’s family and-“

your faint sobs rack your ribs and yoongi can feel them, a relief that your face is buried to his shoulder so that you wouldn’t see him cry

“jin and i are your family too.”

they are but deep down, you know it’s a whole other ball game

“b-but that’s because you’re unrelated to me. i don’t remind any of you of the other. i’m not your daughter.”

it really wasn’t as harsh as how your words cut out, but it just breaks yoongi’s heart to know how difficult is must have been and is for you

you mumble when you calm down enough, playing with a loose thread on the cardigan you’ve gifted him on his birthday this year

“jungkook didn’t know that sore spot. he couldn’t have, but i’m not defending him either, yoongi.”

you mean it with full sincerity and he’s trying to digest your words as best as he could before his bias gets the best of him

“it’s on him for being horrible to me, but it’s on me for relating what he said to what i felt a long time ago.”

yoongi opens and closes his mouth, but before he does, you’re lifting your head up to interrupt him

god he’s aLSO crying

“use the sleeves to wipe your snot, dumbo. it’s not even that expensive!!” you chuckle when you urge him to do so, making him both frustrated and sheepish because his goddamn snot interrupted you

you lean on his shoulder and stay that way, this time being a rare occurrence in which you cling to him like a koala

“and i know that he shouldn’t have said those things to me either way. i do.”

yoongi nods at that, capturing his point fully

he insists on patting you on the forehead, drawing circles and definitely not a penis as he drawls his words

“he can’t take back what he said, y/n.”

“but that doesn’t mean he can’t redeem himself, yoongs.”

you offer him a timid smile, turning into a bigger one when you know just the right approach to satiate him enough

“jungkook taking accountability is the bare minimum, though,” you chuckle when he nods eagerly to the point he gives himself whiplash, “which is why i’m being smart and haven’t fully forgave him yet.”

…

…..

yoongi sighs when the two of you spend the pause in silence, speaking in all honesty

“i don’t know if i can forgive the little shit.”

“you don’t need to.”

you say just as genuine, a reassuring smile on his face to ease the focused knot on his brows

“you don’t owe it to me, yoongs. i know what you’re thinking.”

you really do

he tends to look at you in high regard even when you tell him that he shouldn’t, and it leads to him with the mindset that he really should appease his best friend at all times

“i eventually will,” he admits quietly. “just not now.”

“that’s okay too.”

it was supposed to be another bout of silence but yoongi actually breaks this time, blurting out words once he felt that the coast was clear

he just needs to get this off his chest before this heart-to-heart moment dwindles

“i don’t want to sound weird, but you’re like, my platonic girlfriend, y’know? my soulmate in a very platonic way, but no one says either that your soulmate has to be in a romantic sense and-…”

you exclaim in relief, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you jolt him by the shoulders

“god, finally. i’ve always wanted to tell you that i feel the same. you’re my soulmate, i’m pretty sure. my very, very platonic boyfriend i live with.”

yoongi sighs, stares, then fiNALLY heartily laughs in relief

everything’s out of the way :)

“we’re good. we always will be.”

you’re about to get up to fulfill yoongi’s suggestion earlier, being cut short when he gently pulls you by your forearm when you stood

“i’ll always be on your team — you know that right?”

yoongi means it with his whole heart, just one more reminder he wants you to reaffirm in your mind for the night

“i’ll always be on yours too, yoongs.”

[ereawrites]

Dick Grayson x Reader - Mania

this was requested by: anon

word count: 10.5k / rating explicit

a/n: sex pollen so auto dubcon (?), but both reader and dick are affected so idk

taglist: @daddyissuesmademe @idkmanicantenglish

It's your fault, really. You should never have got involved in the first place, but the temptation was just too great to resist. How could you pass up the opportunity to investigate Poison Ivy's pollen? This was the first decent sample any of you had ever managed to get - even Bruce, though you suspect there have been a few times he's managed to get up close and personal with the pollen - and normally Tim would handle it, but he's away on business with Bruce, and Damian's too young to deal with intensive research, and Jason just can't bring himself to care. So, that left Dick, and you could've left it at that. You should have. Then again, Tim did text you to recommend that you helped Dick: actually, you would never have left your room if it hadn't been for his intervention. It's Tim's fault.

The thing is, everything was fine at first; you've, perhaps, been harbouring the slightest crush on Dick for a while now, and it's always nice to spend time with him. He's fun to be around, even if his classic charm sometimes borders on teasing flirtation, and he's got such an incredible mind. You forget that, at times - he has a bad habit of putting himself down as the 'kind one' of the family, the emotional support or the comic relief, and he forgets to let himself be brilliant, too. He doesn't realise you've noticed that. Or maybe he does, but he doesn't say anything, and you've happily spent the past two hours studying Ivy's pollen together.

"It's definitely pheromonal, but I've never seen a chemical composition like this before-", you say, eyes glued to the computer screen. Dick is leaning over the back of your chair, one hand on your shoulder and one hand on the desk beside you, and you shouldn't feel as tense as you do. "-look, this section doesn't occur naturally in any species we've seen. She's synthesising these pheromones somehow, it's not like she's injecting them, but I just - I don't get how."

He pushes off from the desk, grabs the back of your chair, and spins you to face him with a half-smile. "I hate to break your train of thought, but I think we need a biochem specialist.", he says, and you suddenly notice how tired he looks: his eyes are still vibrant, warm, but exhausted. "We've done as much as we can on this, right? No shame in calling in the big guns."

"Tim?", you reply, knowingly, relishing in the way Dick's smile grows into a full grin. He's still gripping the edges of your chair, effectively caging you in: you are not looking at his arms, and you can be certain of this because you are looking very, very intently at his face.

"Having a genius brother has its perks, I know. I'll call him now. It's late in Tokyo - he won't be in a meeting, he'll probably just be awake in his hotel room, tapping away at his laptop.", Dick says, finally moving away to fetch his phone, and his voice trails off into a mumble that he clearly doesn't mean for you to hear. "God, he worries me. He really does."

It's much too warm in here: you sigh, and shrug off your jacket, slinging it over the back of the computer chair before calling out,"You're such a mother hen sometimes, Dick."

"I care. Sue me.", he replies with a faux scowl. "You don't complain when you're ill and I bring you hot soup."

"You're a good cook, what can I say?"

"Husband material!", he chirps. You feel your stomach leap and your cheeks heat up at his words. He's only teasing, but the truth of it is, it has more effect on you than you would like to admit. Thankfully, he's quickly distracted by the crackle of Tim picking up the phone. "Timmy! How's things?"

Tim's voice is dry, as always, but with a noticeable undercurrent of frustration. "Shit. I hate it here."

"Hey, Tim. Bad day?", you say with sympathy. You feel a little bad for bothering him, now; as hard as everyone in the family works, Tim definitely pushes himself the hardest.

"I'm the youngest person here by at least twenty years, and my stomach can't handle sushi. Plus, Bruce gets separation anxiety from the rest of you. The one upside is that I've been able to practice my Japanese.", Tim replies. You feel bad for him, of course, but the image of him having to comfort a homesick Bruce has you suppressing a snicker.

Dick shoots an amused smile at you - he's too beautiful when he smiles, it isn't fair - that starkly contrasts the comforting tone he uses to respond to Tim. "Don't worry, darling brother - I've got something exciting for you! Check your emails - wait, only the most recent one, though, I sent you a link to a Red Hood fanpage-"

You interject with an accusatory wave of your finger. "Why the fuck didn't you send me that? Red Hood is sexy." If Jason were here, he would probably threaten to shoot you, but as it is, Dick's amusement only grows. His smile is so infectious, like it spirals out into the air and right into your chest, and you can't help but smile back at him. You don't know if it's the warmth of the room or simply from Dick himself, but you feel as though you're going to need to step outside for some fresh air soon.

"Because of your raging crush on Nightwing, probably." Tim cuts in, and you could fucking kill him. Dick gives you a pleased wink. "I'm looking at a pheromonal compound, right? Ivy's special formula?"

You muster as much venom into your voice as you can, without pissing Tim off so much that he leaves you to deal with this on your own. "Fuck you, Tim - and yeah. It's a newer version, though - I think she's evolving, if that makes sense? Her physiology is definitely changing." Tim gives a thoughtful hum in response to your words: you imagine it's in agreement.

Dick continues your train of thought. "We think she's working with someone else, or she's been experimenting on herself, maybe. Do you have any ideas about how she's making the new chemicals?"

"I'll need a few hours. Send me all the data over. You're right about it evolving, though - it's definitely airborne. Shit, this is actually really interesting - the molecules are more compact, smaller, so she doesn't need to rely on physical touch through her plants anymore-"

The rest of Tim's words are lost to a wave of horror. Airborne, he said - you'd doubt it if it wasn't for the similar shock that's written over Dick's face - and you have not been treating this sample as airborne. Ivy has always relied on physical, tangible contact to use her chemicals: you couldn't have known, there was no way you could've known, neither of you are experts on this kind of thing - you've fucked up.

"Airborne? How... airborne are we talking? Like, don't-sniff-the-test-tube?", Dick asks, cautiously, maintaining eye contact with you all the while. *Please, God, let it be don't-sniff-the-test-tube and nothing more than that. Please.*

"Shit, you haven't been wearing respirators - have you?". Tim sounds positively horrified. It does nothing to allay your fears, the worries that you've both been infected with Ivy's pollen; in fact, he all but confirms it. Everything is beginning to fall into place now. The tension around Dick - more so than usual, at least -, how warm you're feeling, the mental sluggishness that had you calling Tim in the first place.

You're angry at yourself, for your own stupidity - not Tim, but you're panicked, you're so unbelievably freaked out, and so you can't help but snap at the phone. "How were we meant to know, man? Ivy's never even hinted at having something of this level before!"

"You're working with chemicals, unknown chemicals, I hate-"

Dick cuts in before this can turn into a full-on confrontation. You've got no idea how he's managing to keep a level head. Perhaps the pheromones are already taking a more severe effect, or maybe it's a placebo effect, and you pray that it is, but you can already feel your heart beginning to pound against the confines of your chest. "It's just pheromones, right? We know it's not toxic, at least - Ivy's victims only take a few days to come around, at most. They're just kinda fucked up for a few days."

You admire Dick so, so much. He's right, he's always right, he always manages to keep you calm and make you feel safe: you'll just have to stay with him, and you'll be okay. If you stay here, he can comfort you, and maybe the impacts of the pollen won't even be that bad. And, if they are, well, there's no one else in the manor tonight, and Dick's so handsome and kind and strong, and maybe he'll - fuck.

Tim snickers. "Fucked, indeed. Only when Ivy's in a good mood, though. You guys better get ready for a tough night. I've heard it can get really bad, especially if you're deprived of - oh, fuck, I can't talk about this, this is too funny but it's so weird, oh my god-", and he dissolves into a fit of awkward, stunted laughter. Dick fixes you with an apologetic look, but you swear his golden cheeks are tinged with red.

"How long until it kicks in?", he asks. It's a stupid, stupid question, because you feel like you're close to dying already. You know what he means, though: when will it get bad? You've seen Ivy's victims before. They're entirely without dignity, practically begging to be touched, sobbing from the pain of it all - and you've only heard rumours about the depraved things they let Ivy do to them. What they ask her to do to them.

The huff of Tim's breath crackles through the phone. "Uh - I don't know, maybe an hour? A little less, since Bruce never opens the windows in there. Just seal the sample up, drink plenty of water, and try not to freak out. It'll pass. You won't die."

///

You thought you could do it - stay in your room, deal with this alone, avoid any potential awkwardness with Dick -but you can't. It's barely been an hour. Sixty-seven minutes since you left the cave, to be exact. Sixty-seven minutes since Dick grabbed you by the waist to halt your speedy departure, touch light but insistent, and said if you need anything, come to me. His eyes were dark when he said it. Deep, dark blue, an ocean that you could get lost swimming in; but pupils already dilating, breath already speeding up. He meant it as nothing more than a kindness. Still, though, that hasn't been enough to stop you from coming onto your fingers with the image of those eyes burned onto the backs of your eyelids.

Ivy's pollen is designed to induce lust, yes, but only for the first person you see after you're infected with it. This means two things: firstly, that you need Dick more than anything right now. Your head is pounding, your lungs feel like they're on fire - the sensation between your legs isn't aching, it's agony, and you've spent fifty-two of the past sixty-seven minutes trying, and failing, to fool your body into believing that your fingers are his. The first thing you know, is that you need him, because you saw him right after you were infected. The second thing you know - there was no one else in that room. You were the only person Dick could have seen.

So, stupidly, you seek him out. You go back down to the cave, without even taking the time to wash your hands, because that's what your body is telling you to do, and you're acting more and more on instinct. Potential awkwardness be damned. He'll fix this.

Dick's facing away from you, reclined in the computer chair: his posture seems almost relaxed, just almost, legs sprawled out and left elbow visibly sticking out from around the back of the chair, like he's got one hand close to his head. You'd assume he was still looking at the computer, if you weren't so hyperaware of everything right now, but you are, and you notice more. From what you can see of his body - it's low-blue-lit from the computer screen, enough that you can make out the muscle of his legs through his sweatpants if you squint, but it's not enough, you need to see more - he seems tense. Too tense. Normally, you'd sneak closer, but your head is practically spinning now and Dick will help you. He'll make this better. Your voice is hoarse and dry when you manage to call his name.

He immediately jolts in his seat, spinning to face you, and now that he's backlit by the computer, you can barely see more than the outline of his body. God, he looks so lean, so tall - "Are you okay?", he asks, and he sounds almost as bad as you feel. You swallow thickly before responding - and, through the fog in your head, you realise that your jacket is clutched in his left hand.

You, miraculously, manage a weak smile. "I just - I thought maybe it would, you know, be better to... be together, during this. In case - if one of us needs help, or something. I don't know.". You sound stupid. Dumb. You feel it, too, and you can't even bring yourself to care. The mere sight of him is helping: it doesn't remove the pain, or any of the physical sensations, really, but at least the panic of not being near him is being soothed.

"That's - yeah, okay. How are you feeling?", Dick replies. His voice is barely more than a whisper, but you hear it as clear as if he were right up against you. Chest pressed to your back, lips on the curve of your jaw, that voice going right through you and into the pits of your stomach.

It's wrong, to think of him like this, when all he's doing is trying to check that you're alright. He knows you aren't, but he's trying.

The best thing you can think to do is make a weak attempt at a joke. "I've got a newfound fear of Ivy." Dick even huffs out a laugh, but it's just as half-hearted as your words. "I didn't think it was going to be this bad at first, Jesus - but it keeps getting worse, and, it just-"

"-it hurts. I know.". Dick nods. As you take a step closer to him, you realise that your eyes have finally adjusted to the relative darkness of the cave, and you realise that you can see his cock straining against his sweatpants. He's hard. What's more, there's a distinct wet patch leaking through the material.

When you entered the cave, you couldn't see one of his hands; the chair wasn't moving enough for him to be stroking himself, and you're not sure whether you're glad he wasn't, but now that you think of it, there was definite movement. Like he was palming himself through his sweatpants, maybe. And the hand that was close to his head, it's clutching your jacket, he was holding your jacket close to his face while he-

"Dick - were you...?"

He sighs, halfway between embarrassed and resigned, and sinks back down into the computer chair. He keeps your jacket clenched in a white-knuckle grip. "I had to take the edge off somehow, right? I'm sorry, I didn't think you would be coming back down here, I never meant to make you uncomfortable or anything-"

"I'm not uncomfortable.", you blurt out before you know what you're saying. Dick's expression visibly shifts - you don't have the mental clarity to figure out into what, exactly - but you can feel your own eyes widen as you process  the implications of what you just said. "Oh, fuck - I didn't mean it like that, I - sorry."

Dick just shakes his head. He must mean for you not to worry. You stand in silence for a while, not exactly awkward but certainly thick with tension, before he pats a hand onto the desk beside him. "God, this is worse than I thought. Do you wanna come sit down?"

Do you? Although being closer to Dick sounds like the only thing you want in the world right now - god, you can't help but think about how good he would look, if you were close enough to really study him, now that you're beyond giving a fuck about etiquette - you're also acutely aware of how difficult it'll be to control yourself. Undeniably, you want him. You've wanted him for months, really - but the pollen has taken that desire and multiplied it tenfold, made it so that it's all-consuming and painful. In your room, nothing more than imagining him, it was bad enough. Now, now that you can see his fucking cock, now that the image of him rubbing himself with a blissed-out look on his face, it's almost impossible to control.

You move to sit next to him. You can't help yourself. Once you start moving, you feel like it's all in slow-motion: Dick's watching you, dark eyes trained so closely on your form, and you're wearing nothing more than a tight-fitting pair of leggings and a thin t-shirt. After what feels like an age - too long to be apart from him - you reach the desk, and upon clumsily perching yourself on it, you see Dick looking as though he's about to pass out.

"Fuck, did I - did I do something wrong? I'm sorry-", you say hastily, but he instantly shakes his head and trains his eyes on yours. The blue is nearly gone. It's all blown-out pupils now, so much that his eyes are nearly black.

He licks his lips as if to wet them. "-no, no, but - when you were in your room - when you were alone - did you do anything to take the edge off? Did you touch yourself?"

You could say no, if you wanted to. You could lie. He would know, but he wouldn't press it, and you could save yourself the shame. For all that Dick must be struggling just as much as you are, he's exceedingly kind, so much that no amount of fucked-up drugs could change that: he's still your Dick, underneath all of this.

"Yeah.", you admit after a heartbeat, and your stomach lurches when you see his cock twitch through the sweatpants. Still, you're embarrassed, and you feel the need to explain yourself just a little. "It felt like my skin was on fire unless I did. It still feels like that, though - like it just wasn't enough, I guess."

"I can smell it on you.", Dick says lowly. Oh, God. That's hot. That's so, unbelievably hot - especially when you see his cock twitch again - but absolutely mortifying. You're torn between wanting to jump on him, right here and now, and retreating back to your room. You compromise by burying your face in your hands, and letting out a pathetic whine to signal how fucked-up you are right now. Maybe you can calm down, now that you don't feel on the verge of a panic attack from being away from him, if you take a few deep breaths.

Naturally, Dick hardly gives you the chance. You feel his hand come to rest on your knee out of nowhere; it's a gentle touch, but you can feel him trembling, and the touch sends a bolt of electricity through you that's strong enough to make you jolt. "I want to help you. The whole point of these pheromones is to make it so that you need touch - it only hurts because we're not getting that. So, I can-", he says raspily, punctuating the pause with a reassuring squeeze to your lower thigh, "-touch you, just... platonically, if that's what you want. What you need."

His voice drops down an octave with the last sentence - you whine again, involuntarily, but you just about manage to turn the sound into words.

"Dick, you don't have to - we can just push through this, I know it'll be uncomfortable for you - I mean, I know it's not like we haven't hugged and stuff before, but this is different, I don't want you to feel forced because you feel bad for me."

Dick must lean forward, closer to you, because his palm slides further up your thigh. The pain that prickles insistently under your skin is beginning to turn into fiery heat: not unpleasant, but desperate, hot, and you're starting to feel like you're not going to be able to stop if he asks you to touch him. "I don't feel bad for you.", he insists, reaching up with his free hand to peel your hands away from your eyes. He curls his fingers around yours as he continues. "I just want to make you feel better - both of us feel better. See, it's already helping, right? Just relax. This is bad enough as it is."

His thumb starts to trace circles on the inside of your thigh. It's nowhere near high enough to be considered sexual, but the movement has your legs almost trembling. You wonder if he can feel the tension of your muscles. "It's... it doesn't hurt anymore. Thank you.". And, technically, you're not lying: it doesn't hurt, in fact it feels fucking incredible. You spent fifty-two minutes trying to replicate this sensation. He's only touching your thigh, it has no business feeling this good, but each little beat of his thumb has waves of pleasure crashing through you. God, how good would it feel to fuck him like this? You're shaking, and you know it, and it only makes him tug you by the hand to stand up.

Even the loss of his touch on your thigh feels devastating, but Dick's next words are more comfort than you could have imagined possible. "Here. Come sit, if you want.", he says - whispering again, voice so low and so deep, but it's just the effects of the pollen, you tell yourself - and gestures to his thigh. "You can lean back into me, don't worry, it'll be better for your back."

This has to feel as good for him as it does for you. Logically, it has to. You've both breathed in the same pollen, his skin has the same sheen of sweat that you can feel on your own skin, you're both trembling in every part of your body, and he's still rock hard. You can feel yourself leaking, god, enough that it might have dampened your leggings and left a wet spot on the desk. What would Dick do, if he saw that? He's clearly turned on, but maybe he still has the good sense to avoid fucking: maybe his view of you as 'just platonic' is so deeply ingrained, he would never touch you down there to feel how wet he's made you. Or, maybe he wants you like you want him.

"Are - are you sure?", you stammer. You can't stop looking at his lap. His cock, painfully obvious (and he mustn't care, because he blatantly drew your attention to it), and the corded muscle of his thighs, spread out straight to form you a perch.

"Mhmm...", he hums from somewhere deep in his chest, and suddenly you're grateful that he's still holding your hand, because the sound almost makes your knees buckle. He tugs gently. "Only if you want to be close to me, though."

He says that like an afterthought - like he knows exactly what you want, and like he's hungry for your touch and doesn't want to consider the idea that you don't want to give him it. You can't bring yourself to look at him before you move to sit in his lap, because you know he'll see the desire, and for now, you're still pretending that you don't want to push him down in that chair and ride him for hours. He'd like that, you think. He'd like it if you pulled his hair while you did it.

Dick lets go of your hand so he can take your waist in both hands, guiding you down onto his lap and gripping harder when your ass inadvertently brushes over his cock. You don't mean to do it, of course, and you jump like you've been shocked: you shuffle further down his thigh to avoid another mishap, but the movement causes your pussy to just barely drag against the hard muscle - you hardly manage to control your moan, forced to sink your teeth into your lip. Thankfully, Dick doesn't seem to notice, and he helps you lean back so his chest is pressed to your back, before lifting his arms to rest on the armrests. From here, he begins to rub soothing lines up and down your arms, and he tips his cheek down to rest against your shoulder with a relieved sigh.

"Fuck, that... yeah, that feels better.", you practically gasp. Feeling him pressed up against the entire length of your body, as torturous as it is, is the most relief you've gained all evening; his legs are shaking just enough that you can feel it in your core, though, and you're forced to tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder. You'll lose your fucking mind if you don't start to relax, he's right.

With your neck exposed, though, you can feel Dick's hot breath tickling your skin when he speaks. "Good, right? It feels good?". For the first time, you really hear the tension in his voice. So much so that you can't pass it off as your own projections, or a trick of his tone - he's just as desperate as you are, holy shit, he sounds halfway to begging, he sounds like he's dying to know that his touch is making you feel good. Your hips twitch of their own accord.

"Yeah... Dick?", you whisper after a few moments. He nods in response against your shoulder, a slow, dragging movement that feels like honey dripping through your veins from the point of contact. "Are you really warm, too, or like - is that just me? I - I feel like I'm burning up... Do you mind if I..." - you trail off, instead opting to tug cautiously at the hem of your shirt.

He sucks in a deep, rapid breath that you feel press against your back. For a moment, you worry that you've gone too far - it feels so good, but it's too weird, too strange for him even now - but then he slowly curls his fingers around the hem, replacing your own hands, and starts to pull upwards at a torturous pace. His knuckles drag over your lower abdomen for just a second and your hips twitch again, and he definitely felt it this time but he says nothing, and his breathing is warm and fast against the skin of your neck; with the shirt discarded, you're left in nothing more than a thin bra. Although the room feels warm, furnace-hot, you're all too aware of the blatant hardness of your nipples, and you tell yourself it's okay, he won't notice, because you're facing away and he won't - his palm drags against your breast on the way back down and it feels so good, too good, and you can't help but whimper, "Fuck, yes-"

Three things happen in quick succession. Dick freezes, you realise what you've done and move to jump up and run for the hills, and then Dick grabs your hips and pulls you back into him, right over his cock, this time. The friction makes both of you let out a breathy sigh, but where you clap a hand over your mouth, Dick follows it up with a hoarse proposition. "I can touch you properly, if you want. It'll make all this go away, I promise - do you want me to?", he rasps, pressing one, quick kiss to the skin where your neck meets your shoulder. "Do you want me to touch you?"

His grasp on your hips is tight, wanting, but gentle enough that you know he wouldn't stop you if you tried to leave again. When you make no move to do so - you're frozen, you can't believe he's just offered to do what your body is screaming for - Dick pulls at your hips, slowly, dragging your ass over his cock and then pushing you back down. He repeats the motion a few times, rolling his own hips up into you a little more with each motion, and soon your muscles start to work so you can grind down onto him. Dick rewards you with a quiet moan - oh, you want him to do that again, you're going to make him do that again, louder and louder - and then, with a touch so light you could cry, he traces one hand over your hipbones and down to your pussy.

One finger traces your slit through your leggings, and you hear yourself moan, but you're hardly aware of making the noise - just this simple touch feels almost as good as the orgasm you had earlier, even just this feather-light pressure through two layers of fabric, and every nerve ending in your body sets alight at once. This is what you needed, more than anything, for Dick to touch you and drag you down onto his cock, and you're so overwhelmed that every muscle in your body goes lax, leaving you to collapse into his chest.

Dick rubs gently at your pussy a few more times, like he's exploring you, and then suddenly he taps right where your clit is. You cry out, and he sighs against your neck. "God, I can feel how wet you are already. You should have told me, I would've done something sooner, you know that - fuck, you're so wet, let me - let me finger you, huh? Please?"

"Yeah - please, Dick.", you whine, and when you say his name, he moans and shoves his cock up against you again. He mumbles something into your skin that you don't quite make out, and then his hand is fumbling with your waistband, clumsily slipping into your underwear and then he's there, his fingers are brushing right against your clit, you sob out a broken cry - you're so wet that his fingers brush right through your folds, gliding like silk, and by the time he reaches your hole, two fingers easily sink in right to the knuckle.

Your pussy instantly clenches down, hard, and you feel more full than you thought could be possible. Dick moans into the skin of your neck and gives you a moment to calm down, to soothe the desperate jolting of your hips, before he starts to pump his fingers; slowly, at first, but soon picking up into a faster and more urgent pace. With each movement, he scissors his fingers a little, spreading you wider every time, and he starts to mouth at your neck with hot, wet kisses. "Do you like that, yeah? Am I making you feel good? Is this what you need?"

You fling an arm behind you to grasp at his hair, and when you tug after a particularly delicious curl of his fingers, he bites down hard onto your shoulder. "Fuck, yes, yes - please don't stop, please, Dick, don't stop-"

"I'm not going to stop, don't worry, I've got you - I'm here, I'm not gonna stop, you sound too pretty for me to stop, fuck - I knew you would sound pretty, keep making those noises for me."

Your body feels like it's going through the most intense orgasm of your life, especially now that he's given up on pumping his fingers in favour of curling them in rapid beats against your g-spot, but you know that you're not even coming yet: you're close, though, judging by the way the room is spinning around you, and the pressure building in the pit of your stomach - "I think I'm close, Dick, - oh, oh, oh my god, I don't - it's never felt like this before, I don't - fuck-"

"I know, I know, baby-", he croons, and the pet name has you tugging at his hair again, the other hand white-knuckled on the armrest, "-it's okay, it's gonna feel different - it's gonna feel better, I promise, it's going to be so good, I'm going to get you there, baby, come on."

"Fuck - fucking - Jesus, Dick, keep going, just like that-!", you all but shout, and Dick continues the massaging movement right up on your g-spot: the positioning of his hand means the heel of his palm is dragging over your clit, and your hips are frantically grinding up into his hand - god, you're gonna come, the world feels like it's crashing down around you, you feel the contractions start a few seconds before it actually hits you and it's going to be earth-shattering, you know it, every muscle in your body tenses up and through it all you hear Dick whispering, come on, that's it, I've got you, come on, come on, and then you're coming-

Distantly, you can feel his fingers continue their movements inside of you, unrelenting - and the other hand keeps a firm grip on your hips, grounding you onto his lap - but other than that, all you know is the white-flash across your vision and the pleasure slamming into each nerve in your body, one by one and then all at once: this is better than anything you've ever felt, better than every orgasm put together, and it feels feels for a moment like you're actually going to black out from the sheer intensity of the pleasure.

Then, suddenly, you're back in reality. Dick is heaving for breath against your shoulder, but it's nothing compared to the way your own lungs are screaming for air - god, you think you were screaming, given the scratching sensation in your throat - and his fingers are back to a slow, steady pumping, in and out of your swollen pussy. It hurts, a little, but this one orgasm has done nothing to sate your desperate hunger: in fact, it's only made it worse, only increased your desire for him, and you swear his cock is impossibly harder against your ass now.

"You - you're dripping onto my hand, baby, oh my god...", Dick pants, and there's a heartbeat where neither of you move - then, you feel his breath hitch, and suddenly his other hand is shoving unceremoniously under your waistband and going straight for your clit. He picks up the pace with the two fingers still inside you, matching each curl with a flick over your clit, and the motions are all so frenzied, those of a man possessed with some ravenous desire, like his one purpose is to have you writhing in his lap, and you give a wordless cry - too overcome with blinding pleasure to actually make a sound - that allows you to hear his ragged words. "Please, give me another one, one more - I want to make you squirt this time, it's going to be so good, I promise, just give me one more, pretty girl-"

This time, it's not just one wave of pleasure, spreading from your core and emanating outwards; no, it's wave after wave after wave, violently crashing over you and completely overcoming every part of your body, unrelenting and constant - this one lasts at least twice as long as the last, but you're hardly in the right state of mind to keep track of time, and every wave of pleasure that rushes through you is tenfold stronger than the last. You hear yourself shriek his name in the most pathetic, broken tone, and Dick cages you in against his body as best as he can as he keeps both hands working at your pussy, and you realise you're sobbing when he finally, finally stops.

When his fingers slip out of your pussy and exit your leggings, they're dripping wet. Dick audibly gasps, and then he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, moaning around the digits, and through hazy eyes you can see the most fucked-out look on his face just at the taste of your cum. He licks his fingers clean - you feel your pussy clench down again at the sight - before opening his eyes, fixing you with an intense stare, and panting, "You taste so fucking good - baby, I'm not going to be able to stop, I'm sorry, I need this, I need to fuck you - please."

He's asking permission, you realise. Neither of you are in control of what you're doing anymore, and he's still asking, as best as he can, if he's allowed to fuck you. There's a terrified look in his eyes, behind the frenzy and the lust - you clumsily crash your lips against his. He tastes of your juices, but it's one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, and he moans openly into your mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his own. You're exhausted, but kissing him renews your energy tenfold. You're suddenly overcome with the urge to feel his cock - inside you, yes, but you want to see it first, you want to make him cry out and moan and gasp for you - so you manoeuvre in his lap, keeping your mouth against his, to straddle his narrow hips and face him.

"Ah - ah, god, that feels amazing.", Dick moans, broken up between sloppy kisses, saliva starting to drip down both of your chins - but it's hot, so hot - as you frantically reach down to palm at him. The instant you finally touch his cock, you're gone: there's no stopping now that you can feel how achingly hard he is, now that you feel how he twitches under your hand each time you kiss him, and it takes much longer than you would like to undo the drawstring of his sweatpants, pull them down, and wrap your hand around the exposed length of him. He hisses as his whole body jerks.

Instantly, you set a frenzied pace of stroking him, relishing in each ragged moan that you rip from his throat; he's leaking into your palm, you realise, dripping over your fingers as you pull him back by the hair and attach your lips to his neck. When you suck a bruise into the softest part of his skin - the salty-sweat-tangy hollow beneath his Adam's apple - he shouts out your name, loud, followed by, "-fuck, fu- let me fuck you, baby, please, I - I'm close, you have to stop-"

"Come on my hand, Dickie.", you plead, and you're granted a thick spurt of precum when you lick a stripe up the column of his throat: he tastes so good, his skin so hot under your mouth, you can't stop, and you croon right into his ear, "It's - it's gonna last for hours, still, you're still gonna be hard - I'm still so needy for you, Dickie, look - come on my hand, let me see it, please. You can fuck me after, just come for me where I can watch it, oh - oh, please." His moans start to pick up in volume and frequency, coming from a place deeper in his throat. He's close, you know.

You've started to grind onto his thigh somewhere along the way. It feels amazing, it feels even better because you know he's twitching and aching for you just inches away - once you finally drag yourself out of the crook of his neck, you see that you've left a damp streak on his sweatpants in the wake of your hips, and the steady stream of precum leaking from his cock has soaked the material higher up. "Come on, Dickie, come on, let me see you come, I wanna see it, I - I'll, fuck, I'll lick it clean after, Jesus-", you blurt out, too far gone to be horrified at the ease with which the words spill from your lips.

"Oh, baby, shit-” he cries, and then his voice dissolves into a broken jumble of incoherent mumbles and whines. His cock twitches hard in your palm, once, twice, three times against the rapid pace you maintain on him, and then Dick bucks his hips up into your hand, back arched, perfectly still and tense; he comes hard, almost whimpering, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut, looking so, so perfect as you stroke him through it and grind feverishly onto his thigh. It's the image of his cock that has the breath snatched from your chest, though. Several thick ropes of cum spurt from him as you work him through it, some hitting the skin of your abdomen and some dripping down the length, and it just keeps going, no sign of stopping until Dick completely collapses, after almost a minute of moaning and coming - your hand is drenched with him.

The sight of his cum dripping from your palm makes something in your stomach clench hard, painfully, and suddenly you need to taste him, you have to, it hurts so much and it'll go away as soon as you get your mouth on him. You scramble off the chair, almost falling to your knees in front of him - he rushes to steady you, even with weak and shaky arms - but you don't care about how graceful you look right now. As soon as you manage to nestle yourself between thighs, you lick flat up the underside of his cock. The taste of it makes your eyes roll back in your head. Dick spits, "Holy shit!", and it trails off into a deep gasp as you wrap your lips around him and sink down as far as you can go. You'd take your time, usually, but everything in your body is screaming for you to taste him, let him fill you, and you're in no position for argument.

With each dip of your head - punctuated with a moan from the man above you, each one becoming closer to a growl, animalistic, and you think the pollen is beginning to send your bodies into total overdrive now - you take him as deeply as you can. You're nearly gagging, but that's what you need. His hands tangle into your hair; at first, you can tell he's trying to be as gentle as he can, but that's soon overcome with a tight, guiding grip that pushes you further down onto his cock with each bob of your mouth. The burning heat under your skin is killing you now, too much to ignore, so you manage to shuffle out of your leggings and underwear and kick them away: Dick groans roughly, maybe because he can smell you more clearly now-

"Come here, pretty girl-", Dick says, sliding his hands from your hair to lift you up by the jaw. You mean to whine, perhaps beg him to let you back down, because he feels so good in your mouth - then you see the look on his face. He looks totally gone. Nothing like the Dick you know, warm and gentle and relaxed: his eyes are completely clouded over, lips parted and slick with saliva, brow furrowed with something between pain and carnal desire. You imagine you look much the same, with spit dripping from your chin, the heat you can feel burning your cheeks, and the wetness you feel running down the insides of your thighs. He meets your eyes, and there's a moment of stillness. One thumb slips from your cheek to trace over your lower lip.

Then, both of you move at once - you surge forward to kiss him again, those perfect, pink lips - you fumble with the hem of his shirt, ripping it up and over his head while barely leaving his mouth for a second - Dick's hands slide down your body to your waist. He pulls you into him as he leans forward, half-supporting your weight, and suddenly your back is against the floor and he's on top of you, kissing you hard and bruising, the chair long since kicked away and forgotten about. Every inch of freshly exposed skin feels like molten silk under your touch: you slide greedy hands over his torso as he licks into your mouth, feeling the network of ridged scars and each ridge of muscle. Thankfully, Dick grants you a few precious, savoured moments to feel his skin, while he alternates between rolling his hips against your bare pussy and kicking off his sweatpants.

It's all ungraceful and clumsy - wet kisses stolen between your movements, each of you moaning against the other's lips - and it takes much, much too long for both of you to finally shed yourself of all your clothes. Dick's hands grab greedily at your breasts as he ruts his hips against you a few times, and you can feel how your wetness spreads over his cock. Then, his hands fly down to find your knees, and he drags them to fit around his waist, pulling up until your hips are fully tilted, the stretch of your muscles verging on uncomfortable. "Oh, fuck, that's it, baby. Keep your legs there for me, won't you? Come on, wrap your legs around me - I want to get as deep as I can, it's gonna feel amazing, I promise.", Dick says, bordering on a growl now that his voice is so deep and strained, and you do as he says immediately. You need him inside of you, now; you hook your ankles behind his back, kiss him, and desperately grind your hips into his.

And then, with one deep roll of his hips, he's inside of you. One quick thrust and he's buried to the hilt, and, God, he fits inside you so perfectly: your body all but melts at the feeling of finally being filled, and you keen as you instinctively use your ankles to press his hips further into you. Dick's just large enough to stretch you out, even with how wet and ready you are, without becoming painful, and the pollen means it only takes you a short moment to adjust to his size before your body is pleading to be fucked. He's shaking and panting with restraint above you whimper, "Ho-holy fuck, Dickie, please... please move, oh my god."

"I know, baby, I know.", he says, breathlessly, voice tight with pleasure but still sympathetic. Even with him motionless inside you, it already feels so good, better than anyone you've ever fucked, and you can hardly stop yourself from grabbing him by the shoulders, pushing him down, and riding him. "It just feels so good, you feel so good - I don't want to rush it, I want to make it last. Jesus, my body feels like it's on fire while I'm touching you, I - oh, fuck, I want to take it slow, make you feel so good you cry-"

"-We have all night to be slow, Dick, you can do whatever you want to me, just fuck me-"

Dick's hips roll into yours and a drawled curse falls from his parted lips. He pulls out, almost completely, enough that you panic and squeeze him tighter with your thighs, but then he pushes back into you, slowly, letting you savour the way each nerve ending inside your pussy is set ablaze; he repeats the motion, faster, his curses morphing into sweet mumbles of your name each time he bottoms out. You can hardly breathe - it feels so good, and each thrust of his hips is met with a pollen-driven roll of your own, so it's half-grinding, half-fucking - the slight curve of his cock has him dragging deliciously against your g-spot every time. His movements are picking up in intensity now, and you can tell the pollen is taking him over completely. The same is happening to you: fuck it, you don't want to think about the pollen anymore, you just want him.

"Ah, yes! Yes, right there-right- keep going-", you cry out after a particularly hard slam of his hips. Dick is propped up on one elbow, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and the other hand slips down to grab at your ass and pull you up into him. He's deep enough that it hurts, but it's the best pain you've ever experienced. "Fuck, faster, please!"

He obeys, mercifully, and you think you can see sweat starting to bead on his temples. "Is this what you need, pretty girl? Come on, tell me what you want - tell me I'm making you feel good, because you're making me feel so fucking good, I swear, better than I ever even imagined - fuck, you're so wet, are you going to come again? Please, please let me make you come on my cock."

The combination of his cock inside you, and his pelvis bumping against your clit, and the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body: it's all too much to bear, your body is going into total overdrive, and it's so embarrassing that he's got you like this. You never normally beg, you never normally come so fast, but this is different and addictive and incredible - you cry out an affirmation to his words, and suddenly his hand is gripping your chin. He's fully collapsed onto you now, and his movements are more frantic rutting than anything else.

"Look at me-", he pleads, using his hand to guide your face so you're staring right into those glassy eyes. "-look at me while you come, and it'll make me come."

You can feel your muscles beginning to tense up as your orgasm starts to grow. Already, your world is spinning, and you feel halfway to blacking out from the sheer intensity, so you tangle your hands into his hair as a way to ground yourself. "Please come inside me!", you whine - the idea of being filled with his cum, letting it drip out while he fucks another load into you, it's fucking mind-blowing and you can't imagine anything better than feeling him shoot into you while you come on his cock.

Dick's jaw clenches tightly. "Are - are you sure, baby? Is that what you want?"

The next thrust hits you perfectly, and you can't help but pull him tighter into you, so his head drops to the crook of your neck. "I need it, Dickie, you know - you know that - you need me too, right? Fuck, fuck - it's gonna feel so good, I'm so close-". He spends a few moments sucking a bruise into the most tender skin of your neck before moving to press his forehead to yours. Each rough movement of his hips has you jostling against the floor; your nipples are dragging against his chest every time, making you keen, and your swollen clit is being hit so perfectly by his hips, and he's making the most perfect and breathy noises against you - he looks so fucked-out, so gone, so completely absorbed in the feeling of his cock inside you, and your vision is starting to blur at the edges as the spark in your stomach finally bursts into flames-

"That's it, baby, come for me just like that.", Dick gasps, just as your orgasm rips through you. You've got no choice but to clutch at him desperately and ride out each devastating wave as a scream tears itself from your lungs: it feels like your body is tearing itself apart with each ripple of pleasure emanating from your core. Like your body is folding in on itself like a black hole does, when everything becomes too much to bear. You actually feel like you've died, you must have, this is too good and too much and too overwhelming - you hang on to Dick through it all, and your pussy clenches down so hard he can barely move inside you, and he chokes out your name before his own orgasm hits him.

You've come down just enough to process the way he looks and sounds as he comes. Your eyes are still hazy - you kept them on him, you must have - but you nearly come again at the mere sight of him. He's too far gone to even make sounds, and instead he stutters out broken breaths through wet lips, cheeks flushed and eyebrows furrowed hard, and his eyes stay fixed on you the whole time. Even as the rest of his body spasms and rocks into you uncontrollably, even as the hand on your chin slips down to your neck and squeezes, he keeps staring at you with all the lust in the world. The best part of it all, though, is how you feel his cum spilling out into you; even more than he shot onto your hand, somehow, and you realise you're crying from how relieved your body is. Fully, fully, crying, and Dick kisses away your tears as he collapses against you.

Despite how both of you are wincing at the overstimulation, neither of you ever stop moving through it all, and you keep grinding gingerly, carefully but sloppily, against each other even while you gasp for breath against each others' lips. It can't be more than ten seconds from when you come down, before you can't control the urge to whisper, "Give me another one, Dick, please. Keep fucking me." It hurts - it hurts because he's not fucking you, he's not moving enough - you need more.

Dick keeps rolling his hips against yours in shallow movements for a few seconds. His mouth is occupied with sucking more bruises into your neck, up your throat and across your jaw: he's mumbling something incoherent, slurring his words. Each fresh bruise has you gasping his name. You're going to be covered in marks after this - not just your neck, his grip on your ass and hips has been tight enough to leave bruises there, too - and you're entirely certain you've left scratch marks down his back. You nearly come again just at the thought of that; Dick, walking around for days with your marks left on him. Scratch marks under his dress shirts when he's on business, or under the tight material of his Nightwing suit, or blatantly visible through the obscenely sheer shirts he wears out clubbing. He's going to be marked as yours.

"You look so pretty like this, holy shit-", he says, pulling his head from your neck to admire his work. "You're so gorgeous - you always are, you always fucking are - but you look even better when you're mine, fuck-"

“-make me yours, then, please-"

You gasp in shock and disappointment as Dick suddenly pulls out, and his own face crumples at the loss of touch, but his palms are firm and insistent on your waist - he kisses you once, firmly, before he's manoeuvring your body like putty in his hands. You're flipped onto your stomach with another whisper of how pretty you are, and then Dick runs calloused palms down the soaked flesh of your thighs, up over your ass, over the curve of your spine and all the way up to gently, gently, press your cheek flat against the floor. He follows his hand with hot tongue, and when he reaches your ear, he murmurs, "You taste so good, pretty girl. Stay there for me. It's okay, let go. I've got you."

Uncontrollably, your ass jerks up and backwards against where his cock is pressing into you. He chuckles. He fucking laughs with his lips pressed to your cheek - maybe having came inside you has cleared his head enough that he can think straight enough to find your desperation funny - and one of his hands slides back down your body, spreading your pussy open for him to look at. You sense his body tense as he gazes at you. "...My cum is dripping out of you, oh my god."

Fuck it back into me, you think, but you're too far gone to string together a coherent sentence anymore. Your body can do the talking. You keep your cheek pressed to the floor, maybe because your muscles are too exhausted to lift your head, or maybe because it was so fucking hot how Dick pressed your head down, but you manage to meet his eyes. You plead with him as well as you can.

Dick's piercing blue eyes roll right back into his skull when he pushes into you again. From this angle, he feels even deeper than before: with one of his hands running lines up your spine, and his lips wet against the backs of your shoulders, and the steady, strong pace he sets fucking you, you're brought to the verge of tears again within minutes. You can hardly move your body to work with him in this position: he uses the weight of his body to press you into the floor, and each thrust of his hips has you moaning loud against the floor.

He brings a string of kisses and nips up your nape, so he can kiss your cheek again. It's sweet, a gentle gesture, only amplifying the pleasure that each deep snap of his hips brings. "I - I'm not hurting you, am I? I know it must be sensitive, baby, I understand if it's too much, I know - you can tell me if it's too much-"

"-no, please-", you whimper, terrified he's going to stop, "-it's so good, please, Dickie, you're exactly what I need-", and then your voice cuts out into a broken sob as one of his hand snakes between your body and the floor to find your clit. The rough pad of his finger brushes over it a few times, eliciting whimpers from you, before he settles for simply resting his finger on your clit. With each thrust, your hips are jostled against his finger just enough to send sparks of electricity shooting through your veins - every time, it feels like flames licking through each limb, and he's fucking into you so perfectly, claiming you with teeth at your neck, rasping your name against your skin - there's wetness against your cheek, like you're drooling, and you're almost certain you can feel the wetness of your pussy dripping onto his hand.

You're so swollen with desire, you can feel how tightly you're clenching down onto his cock. The mind-blowing pressure Dick's applying to your clit is only making it stronger. "You feel so good, baby. So, so, fucking good - holy shit, you're taking me so well." Then, there's a savage thrust of his hips, one that has both of you crying out in surprise and pleasure: he freezes buried to the hilt inside you. "You're going to make me come again soon, sweetie."

That means more of his cum inside you, more of his delicious moans and groans as he comes, and you say, "God, please-"

"-not yet, I want to make you come for me again. You feel so tight and hot when you do - I need it again, I want nothing more than that, please - you think you can give me another one, huh? One more for me?"

"I - I - yeah.", you stammer. You can, you know you can - your body is practically vibrating from how hard you're trembling on the edge of another orgasm - but you don't know when it's going to stop, you don't know it ever will - maybe this will go on all night, maybe he'll fuck you for hours on end and make you cry and let you lick your mess of his cock. But maybe it won't. Maybe your body will give out, or the pollen will leave his system: this will end and nothing will ever compare. You don't want to come again if it means the end of this pleasure. "...Promise you'll keep going after, Dickie."

Dick starts rubbing rapid circles on your clit with his ring and index finger, and kisses your hairline to soothe you as you sob again. "I'm only going to stop if you ask me to, baby, I promise. You feel too good to stop, I swear - I never thought you would be so fucking perfect, but now I know, I can't stop - I'm right here, I've got you, I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your name if that's what you want."

God, you're going to come again, holy shit-

He hardly gives you the chance to come back around before he's crooning, "-one more, one more for me, right on my cock like that-"

You can't even breathe. Your lungs are on fire, your vision is completely blacked out even once the second orgasm ends, your muscles and bones have turned into mush and you can't feel anything other than the sensation of flying. You're weightless, Dick is the only thing grounding you - he coaxes you down from the aftershocks with soft kisses to your cheek, and his hand tracing circles onto your aching hip, and the muscles of his abdomen are flexing with restraint against your back. "I'm gonna come, baby-", he hisses, and you manage the barest nod and then he sinks his teeth right into your shoulder as he starts pounding into you like a whore, fuck, it's sending you spiralling out of control again-

"Fuck, yes, take my cum like that, that's it, keep coming for me, holy shit-"

You're both boneless and drenched in sweat by the end of it. You're collapsed against the floor, Dick's collapsed against you, and he's still hard inside of you. You can feel his cum - it must have spilled out onto the insides of your thighs, judging by the wetness you feel there. His cock twitches inside of you with every ragged breath he takes. You're so exhausted; this is destroying your body, it's ripping you apart from the inside out, and you're terrified that if you come again it'll split you into pieces. And you want that. You twist your body, wincing against the waves of pleasure that crash over you at even the slightest movement of his cock inside you, and kiss him.