#god this got long. sorry. head full of bees

[tyrannuspitch]

Your Thor metas are interesting. I agree that the neck-touching is very unusual and seems to carry abuse imagery throughout Loki's entire arc (and it's how Loki died by Thanos). I have siblings and I don't think I've ever touched their necks. I am not sure if you like being perceived, so let me know if not.

hi! thank you :D i don't mind being perceived - the reason i post in my own tag rather than the main ones is because there was a stage when i was making 30 or more posts a day and i didn't want to either a) get discoursed or b) get banned. comments questions criticism etc are all welcome :)

and yes, i don't think i've ever done that to my siblings either. but, then again, i've also never used "brother/sister" as a serious form of address. i'd say that, as a non-aggressive gesture of affection, it seems to be a lot more normal within an asgardian cultural context. we see it in a few other relationships:

thor to sif in T1. thor persuades sif to leave the battlefield when it becomes clear she can't win. thor is quite forceful here too - he fully turns her around to look at him, and he's clearly giving her orders - but there's no anger or threat in it.

thor to jane in TDW. they argue - jane actually hits him - and then thor puts his hand on her jaw/neck to tell her "fate has brought us together". thor is trying to get her back on his side, and to cover up his own nerves. (the latter doesn't entirely work.)

odin to frigga in TDW. this is just a gesture, no real tension, but it is a little possessive - he calls her "MY queen" at the same time - and authoritative - he's trying to dismiss her fears for him.

thor to bruce in T3, i think? i can't remember the specifics of this one, but at some point, thor uses it to try to keep bruce calm so he can stay in his human form.

which gives us an interesting bundle of connotations, even before we get to how it mingles with violence for thor and loki specifically.

it's a medium-intimate gesture (friends, family, fellow warriors, etc) that's meant to project an air of invulnerable authority, calm down the recipient, and impose order and social cohesion (which is sometimes a synonym for obedience.)

there are two couples on the list, but even disregarding loki and bruce, the presence of sif makes me pretty confident asgardians don't view it as romantic by default (the way some viewers seem to), since thor not having feelings for sif is A Whole Thing.

HOWEVER. i do think it's subtly gendered - we always see it done by a normative/ideal man to someone with less social power - a woman, or an "overemotional" man, or someone who acts outside their gender role (loki + sif)... etc. (not saying that's a hard rule, to be clear. just an interesting pattern.)

(and it's also relevant that the three recipients of this gesture in TDW - frigga, jane, and loki - all either die a sacrificial death or, in jane's case, very narrowly escape one. TDW treats (self-)sacrifice as a form of subjugation.)

[it's also interesting that there is, as far as i'm aware, precisely one reversal, where the gesture goes up the power dynamic instead of down (loki to thor), and it's in a *deleted scene* in T1. i know a lot of people like to take deleted scenes as canon, and sometimes i do too... but i also like to consider the fact that they ARE, deliberately, deleted. they could've shown us a break in this pattern, but they never did.

(i mean, this certainly won't be the main reason for deleting that scene, given that the motif was solidified in the avengers, but still... it could be a factor. and regardless of intent, the pattern is interesting.)]

[edit: i misremembered the deleted scene! it's STILL thor to loki in that one. so we have NO reversal at all...]

so ummm yeah! overall... in this story, it's not always overtly aggressive to touch someone's neck, but it IS generally pretty hierarchical. and it is pretty normal in asgardian culture... but of course, they're an absolute monarchy. a lot of bad things are "normal" to them lol.

[aticklishpercivalwriter]

A Teasy Time~

For Artists Who See Their Art on My Fics Link to Artworks: Sethos pinned against a wall by Scara (@akushixa), Scara being illegally hawt (@yi_xin9943), Scara looking at you like you’re his prey (@kiyonvmi), Sethos hiding or flustered beyond belief (@mimilims)

Summary: Teasy Scara and making Sethos suffer :)

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Hope you all are doing well! Here’s the long-awaited teasy fic! The SFW version! Probably the only spicy thing is the kissing like in My Honey ♡ My Bee :) The N$FW version will be released when it is finished so if you were waiting for it, I’m so sorry that you have to wait a bit more 😓. Though, I hope you all enjoy this gift! It never gets old writing for these two :) Anyway, hope you all enjoy this fic, and thank you for a great year ❤️! PS, couldn’t decide which artworks to use so have you have two versions. Wanted artworks that really reflect what Scara looks like when looking at Sethos and how Sethos feels. The meme one of Sethos was too hard to pass up to not include :P Definitely need more flustered Sethos art.

Word Count: 3290 Also on AO3!

—

The sun is rising over the horizon of the Sumeru forest, its light filtering in through the window blinds of Wanderer’s and Sethos’s bedroom. The streaks of light casting a warm glow on the cuddling duo. Scaramouche was the first to awake, eyes fluttering open and propping himself on his shoulder. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked towards his lover, his breath catching in his throat.

“Fuck, he is beautiful.”

They both were only in their underwear after a night of making love to one another. He traced his skin and blushed as the memories came rushing back. He shook his head getting back in the moment. There will be time to do it again later. For now, he admired his boyfriend. He really looked divine and a gift from the gods. The tan skin glowing in the light and highlighting the muscles from years of training. The slow rise and fall of his broad chest as he breathed. His hair down as it partially covered his face and pooled into curly waves behind him. And finally, the hickeys that decorated his figure. The marks meaning that he is his. He drank in the sight, planting soft kisses all over him.

“I’m glad I have you in my life, my little bee,” he whispers. “I love you…more than you could ever know.”

After a few minutes of affection, he got off the bed and stood up, stretching and taking a look at himself in their full-body mirror.

“Shit, he really marked me up too.”

His body was littered with hickeys, mostly on his neck and shoulders while a few were on his chest and thighs.

“I guess that talkative mouth of his can be useful for something,” he chuckled, skimming his fingers over the marks.

He is really relieved that they sent Durin to be with Aether and the others for a few days because he definitely didn’t want their innocent dragon to see or hear what they were doing and are going to do again later. He has no idea how he would explain what he is seeing right now to their little dragon.

“This is going to be a pain in the ass to hide,” he sighed, walking over to their dresser and rummaging through the drawers to find a scarf or something to hide the ones on his shoulders and neck.

“Not here. How about—”

"Aah! It's a monster!”

He yelped in surprise, immediately pulling his hand out of the drawer as strong arms from behind wrapped around him and he felt a kiss on his nape.

“Did I get ya?~” Sethos teased.

“You got five seconds. One-”

“Wait, wha—”

“You heard me. You can’t please your way out of this one. Three-”

Sethos immediately let him go, bolting out of their bedroom using his electro powers and into their living room. Adrenaline rushed through him as his honey’s voice resonated throughout the house.

“Fourrrr~ Five!”

Scara sped off after him not activating his anemo powers just yet. He’ll pounce on his prey quietly after he is done toying with him.

“Oh Sethhh~ Come on out~”

He had a Cheshire smirk on his face as he purposely took heavy footsteps and started tapping his nails on the walls and any hard surface he could find. He wanted him to know he was coming for him.

And Sethos, who was crouching behind a couch, bit his lip as the sound echoed from the hall to his ears. He felt his face heat up and the pounding of his heart in his ears was deafening. Damn Scara for knowing how to get his skin tingling.

“You know what I’m going to do to you when I get my hands on you?” Scara asks, stepping into the living room and searching. “I’m going to stroke my fingers slooowly down that sensitive back of yours while I whisper those teases you love in your ears and plant little kisses on your neck.”

Sethos who managed to crawl around a corner and start backtracking to the bedroom as quietly as possible, almost collapsed upon hearing those words. He was biting back a grin as he rubbed the goosebumps that were forming on his skin. His mind was going a million miles a minute with scenarios and fuck, Scara knows how to rile him up.

He finally made it to the bedroom, his honey’s teasing muffled by the walls as he hid on the side of the bed away from the door. His escape route was to jump over the bed and out the door once Scara entered and shutting it on him. That should buy him some time he thinks.

Wait, why is it so quiet?

Focusing on his surroundings, it was deathly silent. No tapping. No verbal teases. No muffled noises. Absolute silence. He was starting to get a bad feeling about this.

Click!

Oh shit.

His eyes widened in horror upon hearing the door close and lock. But he still can’t hear anything, not even footsteps. He has no idea where Scara was in the room or if he was even in the room at all.

Should I chance a look?

After much debate, he decided to peek around the corner of the bed but didn’t see anything besides the closed door and the rest of the room looked untouched from where he was looking.

Does that mean he’s waiting out—

“It’s the tickle monster~”

“AAAHHHH!”

Sethos screamed as he felt arms, which were definitely his lover’s, lift him from behind and throw him onto the bed. He frantically struggled trying to get off the bed only to tangle himself up in the blankets. Scara took the opportunity to turn him onto his back, sitting on his waist and pinning his arms above his head.

“So, my bee. Thought you could get away with scaring me like that, hmm?”

He leaned down towards Sethos, giving him a devilish smirk while Sethos just gulped in return, too stunned to speak.

“Cat got your tongue, love?” Scara teased, trailing his fingers down Sethos’s exposed armpit.

“Hehehe, nohohoho!” Sethos giggled, bringing him out of his shock.

“So, you thought it was a good idea to scare me, huh?”

“Yeah? AHahaHAHA! Dohohohon’t!”

Sethos laughed, feeling Scara scribble against his sides.

“Remember, you brought this upon yourself~”

“Wha— oof!”

Scara let go of his arms, flipping him onto his chest and sitting on his waist once again. He started stroking his fingers along the bare skin of his lover’s back, making him jerk in his hold before giggling.

“Nohohohoho! Nohohohot thihihis!”

“Oh yeah, you’re right.”

Sethos felt a spark of hope only for it to be put out when he felt hands move his hair away and lips on the side of his neck.

“I forgot this,” Scara smirked, blowing a raspberry.

“GahaHAHahaHA!”

“And also, this.”

Before Sethos could ask him what else, he felt his voice right against his ear, sending tingles down his spine.

“You’re so ticklish it’s adorable.”

“Nohohoho!”

“You don’t think you are adorable? Well, you are with how you giggle like that and squirm around. You are making me want to tickle you forever~”

“Bahahabe! Stahahap teheheasing mehehe!”

What have I awakened in you, Scara?

“I don’t think I will. This is your punishment after all. Besides, I’m just getting started~”

Now he started scratching and Sethos let out a surprised yelp before falling into a symphony of laughter and giggles.

“You make quite the music for my ears~”

“NAHahahAHA!” Sethos laughed, shaking his head. “STAhaHAhap! TihihIHIHIckling MEHEheheHE!”

“Stop?” Scara leaned towards his ear, brushing his lips against his earlobe. “Why would I stop? You're clearly loving this with that smile on your face~”

Scara chuckled. He chuckled. The sound reverberated in his mind and left a pleasant tingling sensation in its wake. His love knows what he is doing to him. He knows it's driving him insane. And he definitely knows he loves it. It is so unfair how his honey knows how to turn him into mush. He whined in protest, crawling off the bed trying to escape his lover's clutches and flustering teases.

“Where do you think you’re going?~”

Before he knew what was happening, Scara pulled him back, squeezing his sides and making him squeal.

“I wasn’t done with you, naughty bee~”

“Wait! I-I’m sorry! It’s- HAHAHAHA! SCAHAHARAHAHA!”

He felt nibbles on his back making him let out a guffaw of laughter.

“You're sooo cute when you know you're in trouble,” Scara teased, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles.

Grabbing a pillow, Sethos hid his face in it, muffling his laughs along with the blush from his honey’s flustering teases.

“My poor bee, it tickles so bad, doesn't it?”

Sethos pounded his fist against the bed in response, lost in his own laughter as his words got to him.

“Oh, I know, I know. It's okay,” his lover cooed. “It won't end anytime soon~”

Sethos’s reaction was priceless as his laughter got more desperate upon hearing those words and he scrunched up his shoulders, shaking his head in ticklish mirth and hair flailing in every direction.

Scara smirked, an evil grin on his face as he began blowing raspberries and leaving ticklish licks on Sethos’s back.

“NAHAHAHAHA! SCAHAHAHARA! I’M GOHOHOING TO DIEHEHEHE!”

Sethos was now blindly whacking the pillow against Scara trying to fight back.

“What are you trying to do?”

Scara giggled at his antics, throwing the offending pillow away and tickling his exposed armpit.

“NOHOHOHO! MY WEHEAPON! TAHAHAKE THIHIS!”

Sethos managed to somehow squeeze Scara’s side making him bark out a laugh but as quick as it happened, Scara turned him back onto his back, a playful glare in his eyes.

“You made a mistake my bee. You really thought you could tickle me back?”

Sethos widened his eyes, panicking as he frantically crawled backwards. Scara took his time, slowly inching closer and closer to him with that signature smirk of his.

“Waitwaitwahahait! Plehease! I'm sohorry!”

“Giggling already? I’m not even touching you.”

Ignoring his lover’s protests, he grabbed Sethos’s scarf from the bedside table, tying up his arms before leaning down towards his ear, playfully nipping at it before whispering.

“Suffer~”

Sethos exploded into laughter, pulling at his arms in vain as Scara drilled into his armpits.

“NOHOHOHO! HOHOHONEHEHEY! I-I’M SOHOHORRYEHEHE! DOHOHON’T DOHOHO THIHI- HAHAHA!”

His lover didn’t bother to hear the rest, crawling a hand behind his back and scribbling.

“BWAHAHAHAHA! M-MOCHIHIHIHI!”

He twisted onto his side before falling back and legs kicking out in response to the overwhelming sensations racking through his body.

“Aw, that’s cute. Calling me nicknames again. That’s not going to save you, my love~”

“PLEHEHEASE! I’M SOHORRY! I’M SAHAHAHARWY! PLE- NAHAHAHA!”

“How you melt like honey right beneath me. Maybe I should start calling you honey now instead~”

“I only get to call you— Mmphehe!”

He was cut off by his own giggle when he felt fingers scribble along his side.

“Heh, you were saying?”

“You're mean, so mehehean.”

“Mean, huh?” Scara chuckled, making Sethos gulp.

“I'll show you what mean is~”

Rolling Sethos over, Scara straddled his hips and went all in on his back, not leaving any spot untouched. And Sethos exploded with laughter.

“MMPHAHAHA! SCAHAHARAHA! NOHOHOHO!”

If Sethos could pound the bed, he certainly would as each scribble along his back was sending ticklish shocks throughout him.

“Tickle tickle tickle~”

“STAHAHAHAP TEHEHEASING MEHEHEHE!”

“Mmm, no~”

Tears of mirth started leaking from his eyes as the tickling continued. Scara was merciless as he whispered coochie-coos and tickle tickles making Sethos scrunch up his shoulders and alternating from scribbling to clawing and everything in between making him kick his legs out and laugh boisterously.

“BWAHAHAHAHA! SCAHA- AHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE!”

“Can’t handle a little tickling?~” Scara teased, slowing down and finally taking mercy on his lover before turning him over for a kiss.

“Hah, hah. You call that little?! I’m exhausted!”

“You need to build up your stamina more, my bee~” Scara snickered, kissing him again.

“Hey, I thought this was a punishment?” Sethos joked, playfully nipping at his lips. “Can’t get enough of me, can’t you~”

“You didn’t just say that.”

“What if I did?~”

“Such a naughty bee you are.”

“Only for you~ Hahahaha! Wahahait! Nohoho!”

“Just because you said that, no more kisses for you.”

“I’m sohohorry! I dihihidn’t mean it! ACK! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!”

“Mmm, sucks to be you~”

“You’re mehehean!”

“And just for that, no more cuddles.”

“Nohow thAHAHAT’S EHEHEVIL!”

“You should’ve been nice in the first place.”

“GAHAHAHA! SAHAHAY’S YOUHUHU!”

“Are you just trying to be a brat today?”

“HAHAHAHAHA!”

“Not talking anymore huh? Two can play that game.”

Scara stopped, untying Sethos’s arms and just laying across from him, a smirk on his face.

“Wait, w-why did you stop?”

“Tell me what you want,” Scara said, ignoring his question and hovering his fingers right over Sethos’s sensitive skin.

“What!? N-No! You— You can't do that!”

Sethos's eyes were wide as saucers, and he looked pleadingly at him.

“Can't do what?”

Scara looked at him innocently, but his grin betrayed his true intentions.

Now this, Sethos was not ready for.

“I take it back! Wan, Scara, my honey! Mochi-Mouche! Don’t do this!”

Sethos was biting his lip and clenching his hands. His lover’s fingers were right there! The anticipation was seriously driving him up the wall.

Please! Scaraaa!

“What? This?”

Scara wiggled his fingers at him, and he whined, shaking his head.

“Aww, that’s a cute reaction,” Scara cooed, pulling away and grabbing a couple nearby pillows before lifting his hips and placing them underneath.

“W-What are you doing?”

With his hips lifted up, his back was completely exposed and he never felt so vulnerable.

“Just this~”

With a devious smile, Scara slid his hand behind Sethos’s back. He hovered his fingers right below the skin, moving his fingers in a fanning motion making Sethos jump as he felt wisps of air against his skin.

Sethos groaned internally.

This is worse! I can’t even see his fingers! On top of that, I can’t even lower my back because of those stupid pillo— !!!

Scara suddenly placed his chin on Sethos’s thigh, a Cheshire grin on his face as he took an interest in placing kisses along his inner thigh.

“Nononono, Scara! Please! Just do it! Stop teasing me!”

Sethos was losing his mind as he hid his face in his hands.

“Use your words~ Just tell me what you want.”

“I can’t!”

“You can’t? Well, guess I have to keep doing this~”

Scara actually made contact with Sethos’s back making him gasp in surprise. Before he could say anything, his honey started slowly gliding his fingers back and forth making him giggle in delight.

Heh, I don’t have to ask him.

“You remember what I said before?” Scara asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “’I’ll slowly stroke my fingers along your back.’ That’s what I’m going to do and keep doing until you tell me what you want.”

Wait, what? WHATTT!? Nonono. Okay, deep breaths Seth. This is fine. This is fineee. Just last long enough and he’ll eventually want to full-on tickle you, right? Right?!

Scara could see the flickering of emotions on his face and he inwardly grinned.

Gotcha, my bee~

He suddenly scribbled his fingers along Sethos’s back making him shriek in surprise before going back to slow strokes.

“HAHAHAhahahah!?”

His laughter teetered off into confusion when he felt those same agonizingly slow fingers along his skin.

What was that for? Wa— !!!

“AHAHAHAhahaha??”

It happened again and he looked at Scara who only raised his eyebrows at him before planting another soft kiss on his thighs. However, there was also a tiny mischievous grin that anyone would have missed unless they were his lover, like him. The realization hit Sethos like a truck.

Oh no. Oh nononono. This is bad. This baddd. Das not good. Ha, get it? Cyno! Get your jokes out of my head!! Ugh, Archons, I am going crazy and definitely done for.

Sethos chanced another look at Scara and the latter shot him a sly smile before kissing and snuggling into him.

HOW CAN HE BE CUTE AND EVIL AT THE SAME TIME!?!?!?!

Sethos took a shaky breath, little giggles mixing in before he started speaking.

“Pleasetickleme.”

“Hmm?~”

Scara, I swear.

“Tickle me, please.”

“I can’t hear you~”

Oh, fuck you.

“Honey, just please tickle me.”

“Can you—”

“SCARA! TICKLE ME PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU!”

“Hehehe, you could’ve just asked~”

Without any hesitation, Scara dug into every ticklish nook and cranny and Sethos let out the most hilarious sigh that Scara had heard from him.

“AhhAHAHA! FIHIHINAHALLY! HAHAHAHA!”

“You really like this huh?”

“OF COURSEHE I DOHOHO! WAIT! BWAHAHAHA! THAHAT TIHIHICKLES!”

“Of course it does, silly bee~”

“BUT IHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SOHOHO BAHAHAD!”

“But you like it, right?”

“AHAHAHAHA!”

“Thought so~”

So, they spent the rest of the morning in bed with Scara tickling his little bee just how he likes it and the latter loving every second of it. Little raspberries along his back, scribbles along his sides, vibrating fingers on his armpits. The list goes on and on. And Scara was blessed with his lovely laughter.

“You had your fill yet, my love?” Scara asked, slowing down when Sethos fell into silent laughter.

“Y-Yeahaha. I thihink sohoho.”

Sethos shot him a giggly smile and it was Scara’s turn to have his heart melt.

“God, you are so cute, Seth.”

“Ehehe, right back at you, Wan.”

Scara sprawled over Sethos, wrapping his arms around him and peppering him with kisses wherever he could reach. He doesn’t bother to massage the ghostly tickles away because he knows Sethos likes the feeling which Scara finds very endearing.

“You’re in your mushy moods again, huh?” Sethos teased.

“Shut up,” Scara laughed, shushing him with a kiss on the lips.

They both melted into the kiss, closing their eyes and enjoying the softness of it.

“Mmph~ Y’know— ahh~ I can’t— Mmphaah~ Get enough of— haah~ You— Aah!”

“Mmm, you talk too much.”

Scara playfully bit his lips causing him to part his lips to let out a moan and he took the opportunity to dive in and suck his tongue. A once soft and sensual kiss now turned into a fiery passion.

Sethos was losing the battle for dominance as he fell apart, his fate sealed when Scara sucked his tongue. Though, he couldn't care less. Drowning in Scara is the best feeling in the world.

“Seth— Mmm~”

“Hnnn— Scaraaa~”

Scara tangled his fingers in Sethos’s hair, pulling at it. Not to cause any pain but to earn a low moan from the other. Sethos wrapped his arms around him, bringing them impossibly closer. However, his fingers accidentally grazed a ticklish trail on his skin drawing a giggle out of him, forcing them to break apart.

“Hah, hah. Ticklish?” Sethos can't help but tease.

“Hah, aah. Not as bad as you~” he shot back.

They stared at each other for a beat their breaths mingling before they started giggling and then full-on laughing until they trickled back into a peaceful silence.

“I'm so in love with you,” Sethos laughed, kissing his forehead.

“I'm so in love with you too,” Scara sighed happily, resting his head against Sethos’s chest and listening to his heartbeat.

“Good night, my bee,” he murmured after a few moments.

“You do know the sun is out, right?”

“Don't make me shut that mouth of yours again.”

“I wouldn't mind if you did it again, honey~” Sethos teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You are insatiable,” Scara laughed, shaking his head.

“But you love me~”

“Of course I love you. Now come over here you needy bee.”

“I was hoping you would say that~”

—

Thank you for reading! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays again! :) Hope the wait was worth it ;) -Perz ~Risus Amoris~

[gothamite-rambler]

Bruce is beekeeping age, but Artemis would still smash

I respect and agree.

Artemis (thinking out loud): Jason, your dad is at “beekeeping age.” You know what that means?

Jason refused to respond; he already knew where this conversation was headed. But Artemis took his silence as an invitation to elaborate on the slang term.

Artemis: It means he’s an attractive, middle-aged man—usually in his 40s or 50s. You know, the kind of guy who would keep bees and make his own honey.

Jason (monotone): That’s not something he does.

Artemis (undeterred): He doesn’t have to do that exactly. It’s just cute how he’s the cape crusader at night, but at home, he’s such an emo dork—like a businessman and a cool dad. He's good at so many things and I've heard a lot of praise about him when I was on Themyscira if you know what I mean.

Jason pretended to examine his soda can, regretting that he had said anything at all. He wondered how the conversation had even started.

Artemis (enamored): He's tough, tall, and kind of handsome. Little specks of grey in his hair. How old is your dad?

Jason brought his hands together, trying to block out the thoughts swirling in his head.

Artemis: He’s definitely at "beekeeping age." Some Amazons even call him a DILF.

Jason (whispering to himself): I wonder if I killed myself and got thrown in the pit, would I forget this?

Artemis (looking longingly): He reads books, he’s always there for you guys. He protects you like he protects Gotham. I never had a dad, but my mom wasn’t there for me like that either.

Jason refused to respond, taking a long drink from his soda can instead.

Artemis (wistfully): The crazy thing is, none of my former partners—besides you, of course—have made my heart flutter like Bruce and guys like him do. I know you two aren’t close, but a strong man who loves you, supports you, and is conventionally attractive… that's something every woman- I mean child wants.

Jason examined his gun, debating what Artemis would say next while struggling to keep his boiling annoyance at bay.

Artemis (twiddling her fingers, lost in thought): Jason, I think I want to fuck your dad.

Jason (glaring at his ex-girlfriend): No, really? I couldn’t tell!

---------------------------------------------

Later that day, Jason made a surprise visit to Bruce to discuss the earlier conversation. If he was going to live with that moment replaying in his head, the man connected to it would have to hear about it too.

Bruce: She said I was “beekeeping age?”

Jason (staring at his feet): Yes. And before you ask, it’s a term for an ‘attractive’ middle-aged man, usually in his 40s or 50s.

Bruce: How did she know I was in my 40s?

Jason (shouting): Oh my God, that's what you focus on?!

Bruce (alarmed): Sorry, sorry! I’m just thrown off by the fact that she said it... she’s your age, and that felt wrong to hear.

Jason: Yep, yep, yep, she called you a DILF too.

Bruce: What’s a DILF?

Jason covered his eyes, cringing at the word.

Jason: Look it up. Because if I say the full acronym, I might shoot you in your kneecaps!

Bruce shrugged, then pulled out his phone to search for the definition. After reading it, he buried his head in his hands, exhausted by the world.

Bruce (defeated, disappointment tone): Oh, I’m so tired of this. Why can’t people just see me as fairly attractive and move on?

Jason: We’re on the same page about that. I would honestly prefer if people thought you looked like Quasimodo over... everything I heard from Artemis.

Bruce: Yep... yep, I already had to get Selina to stop calling me "Daddy."

Jason nearly vomited at the thought of that word connected to his foster dad.

Jason: This is going to be a full session in therapy next week. Anyway, avoid her forever, or I'm going to lose my mind again.

Bruce: I promise, I’m not going to do anything with her. That may have sounded wrong, but I wouldn’t because it's all kinds of messed up. I’m with Selina—she's my partner. Even if I were single—

Jason shot Bruce a glare, clutching a letter opener. Bruce nodded, cutting himself off before he could say anything that would make Jason want to stab him.

Bruce (ashamed): Have I paid you this month? I have not! Let me get my phone; I’ll be right back!

Bruce hurried out of the office, leaving Jason to collect his bearings. He pondered whether he deserved an extra paycheck after just getting paid last week, then shrugged.

Jason: Works for me.

[friautyalltheway]

To please a woman

✶﹒Jim Hopper x Reader

⊂📔🍒⊃

Content Warnings: Hard Dom! Hop, Bratty Sub! Reader, Corruption Kink, Fingering, Degradation, Oral (fem receiving), BDSM, kinda? (Use of Handcuffs), Sir kink, Praise, Begging, Hair Pulling, No Condom (always keep it safe kids!!), this is literally just porn atp, manhandling, Overstimulation

2,7k words

18+ below the cut

How long had it bee since Jim Hopper last had a good fuck? An one-night stand? A woman in his life? Too long. It´s been definitely too long. Even though he knew he shouldn’t be thinking about sex while at work, he did so regardless. His filthy thoughts started taking advantage of him a few days ago, naughty imaginations clouding his mind, making it impossible for him to focus on anything else. Shit, how old was he? 18? Shouldn’t people his age be out and about, thriving with their wives, their families? Whatever. It could not be that hard, finding a willing woman somewhere in Hawkins.

With that thought in mind, he hurriedly closed the doors of the Police Station after his shift was finally over for the day, and made his way straight into his favourite pub. Lucky for him, you have had the exact same thought as him today, on the lookout for a man who could pleasure you the right way. But you definitely didn’t expect that man to be the Chief of Police.

Hopper opened the door that lead onto the pub, looking around as he made his way towards the counter. That was until he spotted you sitting at one of the tables, all by yourself. He took that as a chance to sit down at the same table, taking of his hat, grumpily greeting you.

Soon, you were lost in a conversation, talking about this and that. You never took him as a funny, nice guy - but that was exactly who he was. All to your surprise. But what surprised you even more, was him admitting after a few beers, that he went to the pub for the exact same reason as you. To have sex.

Jim was a very attractive man, way older than you were. But you did not have a problem with the age gap - age gaps were good. Boys your age just didn’t know what they were doing yet.

So it was not surprising to find yourself buckling up your seatbelt in Hopper´s police car a few minutes after paying.

The car ride was painfully long, the tension in the air so thick the both of you could barely breathe.

After what seemed like hours, you finally arrived at his Cabin. He turned of the car´s engine, and looked over to you.

“I swear to god, that was the last thing i had expected to happen today. Jesus.”

He shook his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. You giggled softly. “Me neither.”, you admitted. Hoppers right hand found your thigh, giving it a light squeeze, nodding twice while doing so. He opened the door, and got out of his seat. You took one last, deep breath, and left the car as well. As you walked around the car, Hopper suddenly pushed you against the car´s hood, his lips greedily pressing against yours. You moaned quietly at the sudden impact, but he let go of you a few seconds into the kiss.

“Sorry. Can’t contain myself. Lets go inside and get this started, hm, sweetheart?”

As soon as you stepped inside, he pushed you against the wall, pinning your hands over you head, continuing to kiss you hungrily. His lips left yours and made their way over to your ear, softly nibbling on it. “I want to destroy you so bad, you have no idea.”, he whispered, a slight rasp to his voice. You let out a quiet whimper at this comment - him asserting his dominance over you was the most arousing thing you had ever experienced. Just thinking about your age (and size) gap made you press your thighs together in anticipation for what was about to come. “Need you to do that”

There was no way in hell you would be able to think straight, so you just gave up on forming full sentences by now.

His right hand still pinned your hands down, as his other one slowly traveled down the side of your body, coming to rest on your breast. He started groping it, playing with your nipples. At this point you were a mess in his hands, completely submitted to him. “I barely started, and you already stopped thinking straight. Pathetic.”

His teasing went right down between your legs, the wetness intensifying. “Stop- stop the teasing. Need more. Please. Need so- so much more.” A low chuckle fell from his lips at your comment. But he didn’t change his pace, he didn´t roam farther south where you needed him most. Instead, the hand that cupped your breast went upwards again, grabbing the back of your head, pulling you towards his lips again to reward you with yet another greedy, passionate kiss, which you loudly moaned into. “So, so greedy… Just have some patience, will you now?”

You nodded. Suddenly, he grabbed you by the hair and yanked your head back. “I want you to answer me properly when I ask you a question!”, he angrily said through gritted teeth. What would scare most people living in Hawkins, only turned you on even more.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” “Yes, sir.” “Better.” He went from the back of your head to give your ass a hard spank and then gripping it roughly. You tried moving your hands to touch him, but couldn’t escape his tight grip. “You´ll move when I say so. Got that?” “Yes.” The grip on your wrists intensified. “Yes sir!” A small chuckle left Hoppers mouth. “I think it´s time to move this to the bedroom, hm?”

As soon as you entered the bedroom, he pushed you on the bed, his lips finding yours again. Holding back was impossible now, and you pressed your core up to his already hard crotch, your fingers tangling in his hair, at which he lowly groaned. “Fuck, look what you do to me. Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

He opened your belt, eagerly pulling down your pants and then dragging his finger along your clothed slit, which was soaked by now.

“Shit, you´re so damn wet. Can´t wait to see what your insides feel like. What you taste like.”

Your panties and bra didn’t stay on long, after he had yanked them off your body - him still fully clothed. His kissed slowly started traveling down your body, making halt where you needed him most. Your hips jerked upwards in excitement, but he didn´t give you what you wanted just yet.

“Now, what do good girls do when they want something real bad? When the officer catches up on them, and they don´t want to be punished, hm? They beg him for mercy. Oh, they beg so nice and good to please him, so he will let them go. I won’t let you go, no way in hell, but I still want you to beg for me. Beg, as if your life depends on it, can you do that for me?”

Where did that man learn how to talk this dirty from?! It was undeniably hot, so of course, you gave him what he wanted. Right now, you would probably do anything just to have him finally pleasure you the right way. So there was no holding back.

“Please. Please use me, do anything you want to me, I need you, I need you inside me, on top of me, whatever, please, please, please, sir, make me fall apart, make me your whore, i don’t care anymore. I will do anything for pleasure, please!”

You desperation made Hopper release a low groan, but still, he didn’t give you what you needed. What more did you have to do? “Go on. Come on, continue…”

Asshole.

“Mhh, please, please, just do it. I gave you so much already, please, i think I might die if you wont touch me. Shit, shit, destroy me, please, please just - ah!”

His tongue found your clit in the middle of your sentence, suckling on it, softly biting down on it. You arched your back, hips pressing up against his head. Finally he added a finger, curling it so it perfectly hit your G-Spot. Just how on earth could he be this good at all that?!

Soon, he added another finger. And then, a third one. “Mh- close…”

“Not yet, sweetheart. I need you to fulfil the promise you made earlier, can you remember? You told me I should make you my whore- good whores cum when their Sir tells them to.”

“Yes, yes sir. Understood…”

Hopper couldn’t believe that you really were this obedient. Of course, he had to be dominant in his job as well - but it was way more arousing to be dominant in bed. His erection pressed tightly against his pants, needing attention. Shit, he swore he could cum alone from fucking you with his tongue.

After what felt like hours, he finally pulled out his fingers, and removed his mouth from your aching core. He moved towards you, grabbing your hand and placing it over the tent that had formed in his pants.

“Can you feel that? This is what you do to me, girl. My little whore, hm?”

You were practically drooling at this point - which didn’t go unnoticed by Hopper. But he himself couldn’t stand this torture anymore. He finally needed to fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk for the next week. He finally wanted to see you completely break underneath him, wanted to fuck you dumb.

So he started to unbuckle his belt. He did not bother undressing, only pulled his pants and his underwear down a little bit to reveal his dick.

Him fully clothed, on top of your naked body, his erection pressed against your wet folds - the thought alone nearly made you cum. His teeth nibbled at your earlobe again, and with a raspy whisper he said:

“I need it just as bad as you do right now. But I need you to beg for it again. I need to know what my little, good slut needs.”

Again. He wanted you to plead again. You slowly started to get a little embarrassed, your face heating up, your cheeks turning red. You tried to turn your head away to undergo having to beg Hopper to fuck you. You did enough begging by now, anyways.

What you didn’t expect though, was Hopper suddenly getting up and leaving the room. You sat up, confused. What was he doing, in the middle of all this?

Your question quickly got answered as he came back - handcuffs in hand. “Lay down. Hands behind your back.”

You looked at him with widened eyes, not prepared for this kind of power play. Only to see what would happen, you started acting up, refusing to follow his instructions. “What if I don’t, sir?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Then Ill make you.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that. I bet I could just Get up and leave!”

That was wha sent him over the edge. Leave? You? No. No one could leave once he had them in his hands. He was the chief of Police after all!

In a matter of seconds, he had your body pressed up against the mattress, your wrists in a firm grip as he adjusted the handcuffs. Moving was barely impossible in that position, face pressed into the soft pillow, muffling your whimpers.

“Arch that back.”, Hopper demanded. This time, you did not stand up against his orders. Your ass was now pressing against his dick, already dripping with precum. “And i swear to go, if you ever, ever even think about disobeying me again, I’m going to absolutely destroy you until your knees give out. Until you’re bruised black and blue, does that sound good to you, hm?”

He grabbed your hair again, and pulled your head up, turning it towards him. His other hand squished your cheeks together, making it harder for you to answer.

“M-mh yesh, shir”

God, you felt so stupid. You sounded so stupid. But that apparently was amusing to him, because a dirty grin settled on his face.

“Thats how I like my good whore. Obedient and submissive.”

Without warning, he thrust his dick into your core, making you scream in both pleasure and pain. He set a slow, but hard pace, the room being filled by the sound of skin against skin, your moans and his soft groans.

Hopper put one had on the chain that held the handcuffs together, pulling on it. His other hand made its way towards your mouth, where to of his fingers slipped between your lips.

“Suck on them, will you?”

So you did. You were so close to orgasming, and having both your pussy and your mouth stuffed, and being completely submitted and helpless did not help you at all. Wait until I allow you to cum, he said. As if it was that easy!

“Mhh, good whore. Good girl. Doing such a good job, taking my cock so well.”

His pace sped up, and you assumed he was close as well. Hopefully he would allow you to cum as soon as possible. But that was not the case. You tried telling him that you couldn’t hold it any longer, but his fingers fucking your mouth made that almost impossible. Each thrust threatened to throw you over the edge, as you tried your best to hold yourself back from reaching your height. But fuck, that did not work. With one last, loud moan, your walls clenched around his cock, eyes rolling back in your head as you experienced one of the most amazing orgasm you’ve ever had.

Hoppers thrusts stopped. He took the fingers out of your mouth, moving his hand up to your head, and yanking it back by your hair.

“Shit, what did I tell you about cumming without my permission?!”

He was furious.

He turned you on your back, eyes staring right into yours. “Dumb whore.”, he said, and squished your cheeks again. “Open up your mouth - don’t make me ask twice.”

As you did so, he spat right into it. “Swallow.” You made sure not to disobey him again, seeing what it had led to.

Hopper spread apart your legs, and started fucking you again. Your pussy felt sore from all the foreplay and the hard orgasm you had just experienced - but he did not care. He put his full body weight on you, nearly crushing you. Your legs were resting upon his shoulders, his fingers caressing your clit.

“´M gonna cum soon. And you will, too. I don’t care if you’re overstimulated or not, this is an order. And you know what happens when you disobey the chief of Police, right, sweetheart?”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. You didn’t even need to try hard to cum, as you were already on the verge of yet another orgasm.

“Cum, sweet whore. My sweet girl, you’ve been taking it so well. Cum around my cock, I know you can do it.”

His words of encouragement were enough to send you over the edge for the second time today. Seeing you, all vulnerable, completely fucked out and into submission also sent Hopper over the edge. He leaned down to give you a sloppy kiss, hands tangling in your hair, while both of you rode out your high.

“Shit,” Hopper said as he pulled out and laid down beside you. “You did fucking amazing.” His words made you smile, but you were way too tired to respond to that. “Yeah, get some rest. You deserve it.”

You heard him change in the bathroom, coming back to lie down besides you, tucking the both of you under his blanket.

You would have never expected it, but Jim Hopper, the Chief of Police of Hawkins was very cuddly after Sex - which you found extremely adorable. He softly stroked your cheeks while you drifted away to sleep, and you loved every second of it.

He surely knows how to please a woman.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Idea for Princess Bee au:

Marinette realizes Chloe has really grown and changed and worked on her issues bc Chloe apologizes for bullying her for years

Like, after their kids become friends and they've started interacting more Chloe privately goes to her and says 'im sorry I bullied you for years when we were kids. I was taking out my own shit on you and that was horrible. I shouldn't have done that, and I deeply regret it'

Just a simple apology, taking accountability without trying to make excuses, and in private, without Adrien or someone around that Chloe might be secretly trying to impress

Bc like, a lot of how Mari sees Chloe has been colored by their past of being victim and bully. The only times she's seen the genuine good that Audrey tried to abuse out of Chloe were all tied to the Miraculous somehow, either bc of the Bee Miraculous or bc of her being Ladybug, someone Chloe very clearly admired.

It would be easy to look at that and think 'shes only being nice bc she wants to be Queen Bee/she doesn't know I'm someone she bullies under the mask' when in the few months between Chloe's trying to change and Miracle Queen happening that was all she really saw

(something which isn't helped by the meta aspect of 'the Status Quo is God' that the writers religiously stick to. I hate that in shows, where we get episodes of character development that feel like they don't matter bc all the episodes in between ignore that for the sake of sticking to the status quo until the finale happens)

Chloe apologizing for being a bully is something we never got in cannon, and I think it would go a long way to getting through to Marinette that Chloe has genuinely changed for the better over the years since they were kids

Oh yeah like ofc Chloé does apologize and like. There's probably two apology scenes?

One would be a quick thing when they first met again of 'sorry for being a dick I was dealing with a LOT as a kid but ya know got over it', but then yeah a second more in-depth apology somewhere down the line when Chloé's not caught off guard by her presence and knows that she's going to have ongoing long-term interaction with Marinette and the others where she /does/ have to properly own up to All That™ instead of just 'oh we ran into each other so say sorry without unpacking'.

And in between the first and second apology it doesn't fully sink in for Marinette yet. Not out of maliciousness or anything but like

She hasn't properly thought about Chloé in years. Maybe a passing thought but she never analyzed the whole thing. So the Chloé in her memory is the version she knew when she was still a teenager with a very black/white mentality and using that to make leaps in logic toward what Chloé did instead of recognizing her as a complicated person in a hellish situation.

Like, now as a grown adult who can understand things: If she took a step back and looked at what Chloé's situation was, she'd more readily realize the abuse happening and how it affected her, and that some things like 'working for Hawkmoth/Monarch' don't make sense without something else happening. Middle School!Mari just rolled with Chloé being a jerk like her mom and her dad spoiling her but clearly they loved her becuse ofc parents love their kids and clearly someone as bad as Chloé threw away all chance of changing simply because it was too hard to change her perfect life and it was easier to throw a tantrum and join the Villain over not getting handed a reward than it is to earn said reward.

But grown adult!Mari hasn't really taken the step back to really think about that. So the Chloé in her head is just a spoiled brat who refuses to change and betrayed the Team for petty reasons. And that persists for a while because this vision is so solid and she doesn't know the full story that when the current Chloé acts different, she's once again trying to tie the two together and assuming Chloé is just being fake nice.

She catches on eventually, of course. But there's the initial suspicions because of it

And to clarify: I don't mean this in any kind of salty way. It's just hard to see the change in something when the old version so solidly exists in your head

[ss-shitstorm]

Okay okay I’m currently rereading fortuna primaginia for like the seventh or eighth time rn and I am genuinely very curious (and you by no means have to answer this if you don’t want to) but how would the story have differed if Ratchet had shot his shot first and reader had ended up with him before Optimus? My mind is just rolling at the parallels of what could be similar but what would be so very different. Would Optimus have even attempted engaging the reader after that? I love them so much!!!

(Anon sorry I'm sure you just wanted a simple little aside but you're getting a full blown greentext headcanon sloppy style fanfic)

Slaps ask This bad boy can fit SO MUCH angst in it good fucking god. This has been literally eating at my brain every waking second since I received it. There’s just so, so many ways this could go down. And since there IS so many ways this could go down, please by no means treat this shit my brain coughed out as the only way. It’s just a way. But it got my in a vice grip and won’t let go.

Also if anyone’s got their own ideas about how this could’ve gone down please, please share

-Around the time you guys had your first little late night/early movie pow wow, Ratchet, in a wired/half asleep delirium, makes a pass. -It’s a throwaway pass, probably relevant to something in the movie. He doesn’t expect you to even respond. -He definitely doesn’t expect you to reciprocate. -He knows he should stop right exactly here and never bring it up again

-But he doesn’t. -He’s old. He’s tired. He’s (at least a little) drunk. He’s been fighting for so long and passed up so many chances at happiness. Fuck it. He’s gonna see where this goes. -He starts making excuses to see you more often, and you do the same with him.

-OP notices this and immediately backs off, full stop. -You figure he wasn’t actually that into you to begin with, and (albeit reluctantly) shrug it off, and are thus freed to peruse Ratchet with no remorse. -In reality, it’s a knee-jerk reaction out of respect to Ratchet, since he’d done the same for him when they were dating, and he’d first started talking to Elita. Ratchet already sacrificed his happiness for him once before. he’s not going to let him do it again. -But that doesn’t stop his feelings from doing…whatever it is they’re doing. -You still saved Bumblebee. You still adopted Bumblebee, so this mech can’t not see you. -Every time he takes you to the park, or the movies, or on a nature walk somewhere, and sees you playing with his sparkling he wants to shove his head into an industrial trash compressor -He’s happy for you. He’s happy for Ratchet. He’s forever indebted to you for saving Bumblebee and Primus-fragging-blessed why isn’t that enough? -That and he’s still actively mourning the loss of Elita, whom you share an almost identical EM signature with, so every time he’s within sensing range of you he’s blasted with grief and guilt. -But he still spends time with you. It hurts just to look at you, but if the alternative is not seeing you at all then he’ll gladly endure the pain.

-When the heat cycle hits, you’re actually with Optimus. He, you and Bumblebee were in one of the training rooms getting some (gentle, for Bee’s sake) exercise. -When that electrical, wet, cracked egg sensation first drips down your spine, Optimus stops what he’s doing, stares at you, and starts trembling. -You’re understandably worried and ask him what’s wrong. -He manages to articulate something about you emitting an abnormal EM frequency, and to please to go see Ratchet about it immediately. -You have more questions, but he excuses himself from the conversation to walk a safe distance away from you Bee, and proceeds to tear a fucking wall out -You go to the infirmary to see Ratchet, who explains heat cycles and why he thinks your mutant little human body is mimicking one while crushing the edge of a medical berth with his servos. -You, already pretty riled up from watching two (2) of your handsome robot buddies crush and smash things on your behalf, tell him to go ahead and break the Hynek’s scale with you -Ratchet,having zero reason to restrain himself otherwise, mass converts, bends you over a human-sized medical gurney, and fucks you until you black out.

-You don’t go into a coma. Ratchet’s exceptionally skilled in maneuvering his field, so freeing it from your grabby, inexperienced one isn’t a problem for him. -Nor do you wind up with a busted pelvis, bruises or bleeding after sex(at least, not by much. His dick’s still the size of two tallboy monster cans duct-taped together.) -But after the third or so time you guys bone, you do start coughing a lot. And passing out a lot. And puking a lot. -Ratchet’s starting to worry he missed something in his evaluation of your body’s adaption to energeon and cybertronian bio fluids. So he runs some scans. -Lolnope. Turns out you adapted too well. You’re fucking pregnant. -He stares at the results for a whole-ass hour before he can even summon the courage to explain this to you. -By “explain” he means “I had no idea this was possible and I still don’t know how it’s possible or what the fuck it’s going to do to your tiny little squishy body if you decide to keep it.” -You, knowing full well how devastatingly close their whole species is to extinction, thinking about Bumblebee growing up without ever seeing another sparkling, decide “fuck it. We doing spacemom 2 : electric boogaloo”

-Ratchet’s whole ass world changes right exactly then. -In a bad way. -He’s going to be supportive. He’s going to take care of you. He’s going to monitor you night and day and give you everything you could possibly ever need, because not only is this entirely his fault and he cares about you, but- -He doesn’t want to be around sparklings. -Bumblebee is different. Bumblebee doesn’t exist because of him -But because of what happened with Soundwave, and the cassettes, he does not want to have a sparkling. He’s not allowed to. Not after what he did. -He starts drinking more. And loosing himself in his work. And finding reasons to not be around you. -Or anyone. -He’s in his lab constantly. He says it’s because he’s learning as much as he possibly can about human bodies and human reproduction and running what tests he can to find out how to give you the nutrients the sparkling needs without poisoning you, how to compensate for the effects of your weaker field on it’s organ and internal systems development. -He’s not lying. But he’s also using it as an excuse to stay the hell away from you. -Your relationship starts deteriorating, along with your health. -Seeing you getting sicker and weaker because of something he did to you is dredging all his baggage with the Iaconian hospital experiments up from the dark corners of his mind and you are in no condition for him to confess about that now. -So he hides. You’re left out in the cold.

-Optimus see’s you emotionally freezing to death, and offers warmth. -The time you’d normally reserved for spending with Ratchet is now spent with him. -You don’t want to dump your problems on him. You don’t. -But Optimus feels the sting of Ratchet’s cold shoulder just as badly as you do. So he winds up being less an emotional dumping ground and more of a commiserating partner. -You’re both so worried about him. -Op’s so worried about you, being balls deep in your carrying cycle, puking blood almost daily and in a terrible place with your baby daddy. -He tells himself it doesn’t go deeper than that. And it never will -He knows it’s bullshit. -He knows his spark screaming out for him to comfort you and screaming out for him to take you are two vines in the same jungle, hopelessly braided together and impossible to separate fully. -He knows this and he still invites you out to stargaze after Bee’s been put to sleep, wrapping you up in so many sweaters and blankets and bringing you to the top of the base for the clearest view of the desert sky. -He’ll lie down on his back and you’ll sit next to his helm and nerd out until you inevitably fall asleep mid-sentence somewhere. -He’s heard you name every single star in every single visible constellation a hundred times, and he’ll gladly hear it a hundred more. -He offhandedly compares you to Ursa while you’re pointing it out, and you break down in tears. -You’re not a bear. You’ve never been a bear. Bears are strong enough to keep their shit together. You’re not keeping your shit together. At all. -He tells you that’s bullshit. He tells you anyone in your position would be breaking down, yes including a bear. -He tells you you’re the strongest person he’s ever met and whatever’s going on with Ratchet’s not your fault. It’s not. -He has a point, but you still feel so weak, and tell him you can see why Ratchet wouldn’t want to be with someone as fragile as you. -Seeing you like this breaks something in him. There’s protocols blowing up left and right in his processor and spark telling him to stop the tiny human from crying. Stop the adoptive mother of his sparkling from crying. Stop you from crying. -So he rolls over, he cradles you against his cheek while you sob. You lean into him, throw your tiny arms around him and - -He kisses you -He realizes it’s a mistake the second he does it. He breaks the kiss, wracked with guilt, apologies immediately, tires to pull away- -You don’t let him. You kiss him back. -His field rolls over you out of nowhere like a tsunami, knocking you on your ass. -He can feel your field already sinking it’s inexperienced kitten claws into his, and he yanks it away before they can entwine further. -You two stare at each other in silence for a few moments after that, before wordlessly heading back inside. -You go straight to bed, too tired to analyze exactly what the fuck that was, or wonder if you were wrong about him not liking you. -He goes back to his room and stares at the wall. He has no excuse for what the fuck he just did. He doesn’t even drink. He made that mistake stone cold sober. -Both you and Ratchet need his support right now, not whatever shit he just pulled. -He’s a leader and a father. He can’t ever afford to make a mistake like that again. -But he can’t leave you alone, because he knows Ratchet won’t be here for you. -And he can’t leave Ratchet alone, because he won’t let anyone else near him. -He stares at the wall for the rest of the night.

-The next day, the sparkling sends out it’s first ping, seeking to start it’s nonverbal, psychic bond with it’s sire -Except, it doesn’t send it to it’s sire. -Ratchet’s field had been clamped so tightly around his frame ever since this started you haven’t been able to feel it at all. Naturally, the sparkling had nothing to cling to either. -Instead, it forms a bond with the mech who’s field dragged you in like a riptide -It forms one with Optimus -Neither of you bring this up to Ratchet. You can’t. You both already feel guilty as hell for whatever the fuck that was. -But neither of you can deny the gravitational pull you feel towards each other anymore. -The sparkling starts sending him clips of your voice. Of His voice. -Optimus feels his spark splitting in two both because this tiny little ethereal voice is calling out to him, not Ratchet, and because he can’t answer that tiny voice. -You make tentative plans to put your head through a fucking cheese grater the second this metal baby is out of you.

-Fortunately, that comes sooner than later. -Unfortunately, much like with Bee, the sparkling’s field gets lodged in your brainwaves during emergence, and can’t fully separate -They do finally become untangled once she’s born -But that’s only after your neural activity slows to a crawl when you blackout -NOW it’s coma time, baby.

-Seeing you comotose after giving birth to his sparkling is the last straw for Ratchet -He snaps -Hands the sparkling to Optimus, apologizes, and just leaves. -Optimus is left largely alone and flailing with this sparkling, who is basically recognizing him as her dad. -She repeatedly sends him clips of your voice, her way of asking “Where’s mom? I want mom? I waited so long to see them where’s mom?” -The first thing she blurts out with her primitive vox are the beginning notes to David Bowie’s Diamond Dogs. -Echo seems like a fitting name. He relays this experience and the suggestion to Ratchet. -Ratchet’s optics glaze over. His lip trembles. He unintentionally crushes the cube of hi-grade he’s holding, but agrees. -But beyond that, Ratchet is gone. -Wakes up, attends to any medical issues for the team, then drinks himself to unconsciousness, rinse and repeat. -He is a miserable, drunk old bastard barely fit for duty let alone to be a father -Thank god for Fowler, who’s kept people like Astoria, Carly and Raoul on call for exactly this outcome(He predicted robot fucking would have repercussions, and he was RIGHT) -Astoria takes one look at your comatose body and gets her tubes tied immediately. -They wind up having to take babysitting off base most of the time, though, because Ratchet refuses to be around any humans -Which is why when Jack, Miko and Raf wind up there eventually, he’s less than enthused. -They should leave. They NEED to leave, because he’s only ever hurt things smaller than himself. -Despite this, Raf and Bumblebee manage to still get through to him somehow. -His relationship with Echo, though. -It’s bad. -He can’t even look at her without seeing your face. And Soundwave’s face. And every single cassette he forced into existence.

-Optimus visits you while you slumber. -It’s not often that he can do this, pressure of being a leader. And a father. And now the lone diplomatic relation between cybertronians and humanity, after you decided to take a preemptive dirt nap. -Sometimes he tells you mundane things, like how his day went, how everyone’s doing -He likes to tell you how Bee and Echo are doing. That they’ve gotten along exceedingly well. Their so close in age, that’s to be expected. -But Bee adores her, and she’s aggressively possessive of him -And, when he’s run out of things to say, he’ll thank you. He’ll thank you for saving Bumblebee. For fighting so hard to establish refuge for his people here. For keeping him company. For being his friend. -For letting him love you. -He always chokes up on the last one, and leaves before he can finish, excusing himself from a quiet room and leaving as silently as he came.

-Ratchet visits you too. -A lot -In fact, when he’s not in the infirmary, or his quarters, or drinking in either of those places, he’s here. -But unlike Optimus, he comes up empty for words. -He just watches your unmoving body, and the gentle oscillations of the various monitors hooked up to you -He will say one thing, though, every time. Right before he leaves -It’s always the same thing. -”I’m sorry.”

-While this is going on, you’re busy cavorting around with Elita in the realm of the primes with Rumble and Frenzy -She (lovingly) berates you for not sleeping with her husband, which is a trip in of itself. -In between trials she teaches you how to hop in and out of dreams -Even the nightmarish, extremely unstable ones -So naturally, you dive right into one of Ratchet’s dreams -You’re flooded with every single last thing haunting his mind. -All of it. His history with the medical research. Everything he’s done. -It’s so horrific you can hardly stay for longer than a heartbeat, but- -You fight through the darkness to get to him, unrelenting until you grab his servo -And when you do so, you get to see him. Actual him. The him buried beneath the toxic walls he’s built up. -And that him bleeds nothing but the purest, unconditional love for you. For your sparkling. For Optimus and Bee. -He’s still there. The mech you fell in love with is still there. -He’s just drowning in his own regret and misery with no way out -His anguish is an uncharted mountain and he needs a guide -You’re going to have to be that guide -So with some intense astral fuckery, you drag him him out of his own dream, and Elita drags the both of you into Optimus’s dream.

-Optimus’s dream is more stable. -Thank god it can withstand the emotional shitshow that is the four of you being in the same place -There’s enough angst and self-blame to flood god’s basement -Elita, being dead and all, has even less tolerance for this bullshit then the three living of you combined -She grabs you with one arm and kisses you, and uses the other arm to push Ratchet into Optimus’s lap. -It devolves into a fourway pretty fast -You’re the luckiest human in the fucking universe -Afterwards, Optimus laments how guilty he feels for wanting this. For enjoying this. How bad he feels about wanting you. How much he still wants Ratchet. -He feels like a selfish asshole for pining after you both. You two should be happy together. Why can’t he just be happy for you two while silently drowning in his grief for Elita -Both you, Ratchet and Elita tell him that’s bullshit. -Both you, Ratchet and Elita tell him all of them deserve to be happy. -Elita tells all of you in no uncertain terms if you three don’t find a way to be a thruple IRL she’ll put each and every one of you in a sex coma IRL so help her Primus.

-You wake up. -It’s been 30. Fucking. years. -The first thing you see upon waking up is the last thing you saw before blacking out -Your little girl -She’s taller than a two story townhouse and her optics are the same color as your eyes. -”Welcome back, Mom.” -You can’t even begin to comprehend what you’re seeing -You don’t have time. The next person in the room is Bee, who’s even taller. -He knees down, trembling, warbling, tears in his optics. -”Did you have a nice nap?” -Reader.exe has stopped working -The next person in -Oh -Oh. -It’s Ratchet -Bee and Echo clear out before you can scream at them not to leave, leaving you alone with your estranged boyfriend

-He walks over to you slowly, mouth set in a firm, flat line. -He kneels down beside you, places his hand on the side of the berth -And starts openly weeping. -He’s sorry. He’s sorry for putting you in danger. He’s sorry for knocking you up. he’s sorry for icing you out. He’s sorry for fucking everything and tells you if you had even a shred of self-preservation instinct left in you you’d leave him and never look back and he’d never blame you and- -And you tell him to shut the fuck up. -You kiss him. He smells like highgrade and millennia of repressed guilt and you can’t get enough of it because it’s fucking Ratchet.

-You tell him about the coma. You tell him about all the dreams. You prove it to him by relaying everything about the cassettes. -His face pales further. You decide to (temporarily) withhold information about the dream orgy -You reassure him that where you were and how you got there, you could see shit. You could see the driving force and divine interplay of how bad decisions and poor judgment come to tangle hopelessly together and prompt action like puppeteers through the strings of the livings and you’re absolutely not done which this, but -You still love him. Nothing is ever going to change that. -Dude looks like he was fucking reborn. There’s something so young in those teal searchlights that make you feel like a child again. -For a moment, everything is okay. -He spends the rest of the night with you, never once leaving your side.

-You don’t get a happily ever after yet, though. -You still have two grown-ass children you need to catch up with -One of which doesn’t know you at all. -She’s extremely eager to start a relationship with you though because she’s been looking forward to this her entire life -She might be an adult, but the way she turns her optics on you and listens with rapt attention when literally anything comes out of your mouth makes you feel like you actually got your baby back -She’s utterly fascinated by you and worships the ground you walk on, treating you like some sort of beloved idol or storybook character come to life -It’s cute for now and probably not the healthiest reaction but that is by no means your biggest concern, because -Echo and Ratchet’s relationship is terrible -You can’t even call it a relationship -She’s got daddy issues out the aft -Blames him for everything that happened to you, which he happily reinforced with his self-depreciating lifestyle -Bee also low-key blames Ratchet for taking his mom away. He understand it’s not his fault, it was an accident, but you were gone for 30 years. -Echo is absurdly attached to the gaggle of humans that raised them, even more so than Bee. -She’s even more attached to Optimus, follows him around like a lost puppy and craves his approval -Which isn’t that hard to earn because he adores her. -He struggles with her grudge against her biological sire, though. Because no matter what he’s never found it in himself to blame Ratchet, and has tried, to little avail, to turn her towards him. -She’s shown considerable proficiency in medicine, but refuses to study it seriously because it’s what “that guy” does and FUCK “That guy”. -You know it’s not entirely your responsibility to fix her and Bee’s opinion of Ratchet -But it’s an enormous fucking mess and the burden’s going to be way easier if shared

-You go to Optimus for help -Because, aside from the humans, he’s the one who basically raised these two. -Alone -That cannot have possibly been easy -That cannot have possibly left him without some damage -He’s been kind, but distant ever since you awakened -Seems to be reluctant to speak to you alone -But once you have him alone, he breaks down -Sweeps you up in his hands -begs you to just let him hold you -He missed you. He missed you so fucking bad -He never told Ratchet about the time you two merged. Or the bond he formed with Echo because of it -Or the kiss -The guilt that comes over his face when bringing this up breaks your heart -You can’t take it anymore

-You go to Ratchet -You tell him about the dream in blinding detail -He looks like he’s watching a slow motion train crash when you bring it up, but he remembers every last vivid bit as though it were yesterday -Admits it was the happiest he’d ever been and waking up felt like getting kicked out of heaven -Admits he never actually wanted to break up with Optimus -Admits those feelings resurfaced when you were sick and Optimus was the only one he’d let anywhere near him -Admits that made him feel even worse because you were fucking dying -Probes you for your feelings for Optimus -This time you break -Fall to your knees and start fucking sobbing -You’ve loved this mech ever since you first laid eyes on him -Ever since fate determined you’d bring that tiny yellow sparkling from the brink of death -Being apart from him makes you feel like a plant without water. You’re shriveling up and drying out. -You need him. You don’t want to be apart anymore. -You tell Ratchet about the merge. The bond. The kiss. -Ratchet looks about as relived as he does devastated -Relived, because you want Optimus as badly as he still does -Devastated because he made himself physically unavailable for Echo to form that bond -He knows forming that bond with Optimus was probably the best thing that could have possibly happened to her at the time -But he also knows it happened because he fucked up and continued to fuck up for thirty whole ass years and his daughter wants nothing to do with him and it’s completely his fault -You tell him as kindly as possible, that yeah, he’s right, but also to shut the fuck up. -If she knew what he’d been through, she’d understand. -It’s gonna take a long time and a whole lot of work, but it’s not too late to fix this. -It’s also not too late to fix things with Optimus, and that probably won’t take as much work

-Since that’s the easier of the two tasks by far, that’s the one you guys start with -Both you and Ratchet corner him in the infirmary after he comes back from a mission a little banged up -Tell him in plain fucking english you both remember the dream, both want him romantically and carnally, both willing to move mountains to make this work, and if you don’t want Elita to make good on her threat you’d better sort this shit out now -Optimus doesn’t need any further convincing -Fucks you both till you see Primus and pass out.

-Now that you’ve made headway on sorting your relationship shit out, -It’s time to start sorting the parenting shit out -With the three of you working together, it’s a lot less overwhelming -Bee, emotionally mature as he is, winds up working through his grievances with Ratchet pretty easily -He never wanted to hold a grudge against him to begin with, and was pretty eager to drop it when given sufficient reason -That, and the fact that his dad, (who he’d been goading to confess to for years) has finally hooked up with his mom makes him pretty happy. -Echo is far less easy to appease -For a while, it actually gets worse, since she’s jealous of the time you and Optimus spend with Ratchet -But because of the time you’re spending together, it makes it harder for her to avoid him

-She asks you one day “what the frag you could possibly see in him” while she’s simultaneously re-calibrating the ground bridge resonance controls and running an experimental distillation on synthetic red energon -Staring stupidly with your mouth open at the similarities, you tell her -”Right now, I see you. Goddamn you’re just like him.” -She snaps her wrench in half, growls and kicks the shards across the room. -“Like him? I can’t fraggin’ stand him!” -You sigh. “He can’t stand himself either.” -She makes a face like she knows you have a point but isn’t willing to admit it even to herself, and that’s the exact same face Ratchet made when you told him you wanted to keep her.

-She finally approaches Ratchet the next day -Just walks up to him while he’s in the lab, drags a stool over and sits down -”So apparently we both hate ourselves” -Ratchet stops what he’s doing. -“What could you possibly hate yourself for?” -”Besides the obvious?” “-What obvious-?” “I���m the reason mom was in a coma.” -Ratchet drops his wrench. And his jaw -Tries to tell her that’s bullshit. -She won’t let him get a word in edgewise -”And I know you hate yourself for that too.” -He doesn’t even try to deny that one -”Hating you for the same reason I hate myself makes it easier to hate myself. And I…don’t want to hate myself anymore.” -Ratchet.exe has stopped working -She tells him she has absolutely not forgiven him for being practically non-existent in her life, and she’s not sure if she ever will but- -Maybe she doesn’t have to, to move on. -Maybe they can acknowledge this as a massive-ass problem that will keep coming back and never fully be resolved -And maybe they can move forward despite it -And despite both of them trying exceedingly hard not to be, they’ve wound up extremely similar, so -Maybe learning not to hate themselves will be easier if they do it together. -She tells him in spite of everything she still wants to like him. So bad. -Ratchet finally stops, and turns to look at her. -She’s gritting her denta, digging her digits into the side of the seat so hard it cracks, and holding back tears. -He tells her, after several tries to get his mouth working again, that he wants to give her a reason to like him. -”Yeah well-” she shakily pries her servos off the seat, jumps down, picks up his wrench and hands it back to him. “I guess we have the rest of our lives to figure that out.” -Her hands brush his as she hands the wrench back, and for the first time, she doesn’t recoil or jerk them away. -She leaves -He stands there for a whole thirty seconds after she leaves staring at the wrench before setting it down on the desk -Then putting his helm down on the desk -And starts crying harder in relief then he’s ever cried in his life

[phantoms-lair]

A Wolf Among Thieves part 2

Okay, Vajlean wasn't going to be useful here, so the only ones he'd have left to ask was the kids. Something he had expressly NOT wanted to do.

He'd said more than once they were naïve. He'd come to realize it wasn't that they were ignorant of how the world worked, they knew better than most. It was that they refused to accept it so long as they were alive to change it. But in the end they were still kids and they could be naïve enough to not question certain things. Like what being a Persona User could mean.

Zenkichi vividly remembered the first half of his trip into the Kyoto Jail. It was terrifying, ducking around pillars and knowing being seen would mean death. And how he moved just like in the real world. Then when Valjean awakened it changed, he was jumping onto roofs and practically teleporting behind cover like it was second nature. None of the kids had taught him how to do that, just like swinging that giant sword it came naturally.

He had been changed, remade to adapt to the Metaverse. And he had been carefully not thinking about if that followed in the real world. That more than his outlook had changed, that he was now something not quite human. Something other. And the last thing he'd wanted was this hanging over the kids. But he had to know...

Kurusu picked up immediately. "Everything okay, Wolf?" His voice in full Joker mode.

"I was just wondering something. After you awoke to Arsène did anything...weird happen to you."

The other side of the line was quiet for a moment. "I started traveling into the depth of Tokyo's collective subconscious so I could chide some peoples repressed feelings and combat other ones using my rebellious spirit as a mystical weapon. I also went directly in the minds of some of the most evil people I've ever met in order to steal a part of their soul that was making them into twisted bastards in the first place, then selling it for cash at a pawn shop so we could further fund supplies for our exploits. I escaped jail by pulling a trick with reality so the assassin posing as my teammate shot the memory of me being in my cell instead of my actual self. I have killed at least three gods, the first one by taking the offered power of everyone I'd helped and turning it into a fallen angel with a gun. The personification of Hope lives in my room and for reasons unbeknownst to me or him is trapped in the form of a cat. He can also turn into a bus. My friends and I were brought into the Metaverse for a Dance Off that Lavenza thinks I don't remember, but I totally do."

"Okay, okay. Point taken. I should have specified. I didn't mean weird events. I meant like, weird with your body."

"Is this a puberty talk? Because I can assure you I know about the birds and the bees-"

"Not that!" Thank GOD Akane wasn't home. "Look, I got into a bar fight tonight. The fight itself wasn't important, but while I was fighting I started healing, like I do in the Metaverse when I'm not in a Fury. And it's not just the injuries I got during the fight. All the little everyday cuts and bruises are gone and I am doing my best not to freak out, but I am very much freaking out." He could hear Morgana's voice in his head telling him to get it together, just like his first foray into the Metaverse. It didn't help then and it wasn't helping now.

"I haven't noticed anything like that, but none of the rest of us have regenerative abilities like yours." Kuruso said gently and despite himself Zenkichi felt himself calming down ever so slightly. "I know some people who might be able to give us answers. Igor would definitely know, but he's more of a 'you don't call him, he calls you' guy, so he might take a while to find. Lavenza I can get to, she may not know all the answers, but she should know something. We'll find you answers."

"Thank you. And sorry, for falling apart on the phone." Zenkichi said sheepishly.

"It's not a problem, you're one of us now, and we look after our own." Because no one else would was unsaid.

~

Zenkichi was having dinner with Akane when his phone buzzed. He felt a bit guilty for the quick glance he took at it, but he did work a job where people's lives could depend on his response time.

Have some answers. Den tonight.

"Work?" Akane asked with a bit of disdain. "Just an informant updating me on his progress." He assured her. "Nothing worth interrupting dinner for." Not to mention said informant and his crew would rake him over the coals if he didn't spend enough time with his daughter. Those kids...

Still the Den though. Zenkichi had mixed feelings on the place. It was perfect for their purposes. He just hated how much the location shouldn't exist.

It had apparently manifested during the Yaldaboath incident. A small corner of the metaverse that had attuned to the Phantom Thieves, almost like a one room palace (even if it was a very big room). It had vanished with the rest of the metaverse after that incident had ended, but Sophie had gotten the idea if her 'sister' Emma had managed to have so much control of the metaverse, she could manage one location.

Because it worked like a Jail, all they had to do was enter the passcode and they'd be taken there, regardless from where in Japan they were, and be returned to the same spot. It helped with him in Kyoto, most of the kids in Tokyo, and Sophie who knew where. Incredible convenient, but it gave him the heebie jeebies.

Once Akane was asleep he took out his phone. "For one so desperate for answers, you certainly fear them." His golden eyed reflection said mockingly.

Zenkichi certainly regretted his desperate attempt to talk to his persona. Not only had it not gotten him anything, but Valjean seemingly took it as an invitation to chat with him whenever he saw his reflection which was...annoying (Even if his commentary during boring meetings was hilarious). Still, Zenkichi ignored him and pulled up the custom EMMA-like interface. "Name: Thieves' Den Passcode: I am Thou."

His house dissolved around him and he found himself in the bright red room. But at the same time his heart sank. He'd expected to find Kurusu. And the leader of the Phantom Thieves was there - along with every other member.

So much for not worrying them.

"Hey Gramps," Sakamoto gave him a tiny salute. He was in his Phantom Thief attire with him mask up around his forehead. Most of them were, save Takamaki who was wearing a school uniform.

It seemed strange to him how she didn't actually like her outfit. She'd grown used to it, but didn't think it was cool, the way the others Including him felt about their attire. Had she just gotten so used to being seen as a sex object between her modeling work and Kamoshida's advances that that's how she saw herself even if she hated it.

He'd suggest therapy, but apparently the last time one of these kids tried therapy the therapist had turned himself into a god and tried to rewrite reality into his own Utopia, so that was probably out.

What even was his life?

"So answers?"

"Well, Igor continues his streak of not being there when I need him." There was no mistaking the frustration in his tone. "But Lavenza told me what she could, and we've been running some experiments."

"I could not participate in the experiments as I have no body outside the metaverse, so I helped compile the data." Sophie said brightly.

The kids had been experimenting on themselves?

"So according to Lavenza, awakening to a Persona sort of grants you a dual citizenship in the Metaverse. That's why it's easier for us to navigate after an awakening. We count as a local for all intents and purposes. Also our Personas being a part of us mean we're intrinsically connected."

"It's harder to tell for the mot part with we who have only one persona," Niijima stated. "But Akira's wildcard ability showed that what we do and how we train our bodies does effect our Personas, so it made sense for the reverse to be true."

"We also learned that being a Persona user doesn't automatically make you heal faster, though wounds healed in the metaverse would stay healed in our reality." Sakura continued. "So in an emergency we could use magic in the metaverse to heal a serious injury without the need for a hospital."

"Passive healing isn't common, but I do have some Persona's with a Regenerate ability. When I equipped them, I noticed the fast healing you mentioned did seem to effect me. So it's likely that you do have a variant for ValJean's ability and can heal yourself through fighting. You also probably have the reverse, but I'd prefer you didn't use it as we don't have access to healing magics outside the cognitive world."

"Don't worry, I have no plans to test out if I can tear myself apart in the real world." Because at this point he was honestly just going to assume he could and avoid it.

"Other than emotionally" He reflection snarked back.

You know what? "Also do you guys know how to keep you persona from snarking at you? ValJean's gotten kind of mouthy."

He got several blank looks in return.

"ValJean talks to you? Regularly?" Okumura ventured.

"Is that...? I'm guessing from your looks that's not normal?"

"My Persona only spoke to me when it first awakened." Takamaki looked around, as if confirming this with everyone else.

"The same with mine." Kitagawa nodded.

"Johana was a bit..." Niijima winced . "'I see you've found you're justice, pray do not loose sight of it again.'" She quoted. "I felt like I'd disappointed my mom. I have a hard time imagining just being able to chat with her."

"For real?" Sakamoto looked surprised. "Cap was cool. Told be since my name was already mud, I might as well let loose and wreck havoc. I'd love to have the chance to actually talk with him."

"Zenkichi, under what circumstance did ValJean start talking to you?" Morgana inquired thoughtfully.

"I wanted to ask him about the healing thing. But since it turns out Personas only know what the human they come from knows, he had zilch. And then he never shut up." Zenkichi rolled his eyes.

"Really?" Kurusu of all people looked surprised. "I always got the impression Arséne knew a lot he wasn't telling me. Maybe it's another wildcard thing?"

Sakamoto snorted. "Dude I think it's a you thing. When you're on you give this aura like you have all the answers and hold all the cards. And Arséne's a part of you so...yeah. I think you just played yourself, man."

While the rest of the Phantom Thieves laughed at the bewildered look on their leader, Morgana looked thoughtful. "It makes a certain amount of sense." Morgana allowed, tail twitching. "Personas are part of one's cognition and as such can be shaped by our perceptions. None of us had a persona talk to us outside an awakening, so we assumed just talking to a persona wasn't a thing that could happen. After all, we had accepted that part of us into ourselves. Zenkichi, you to at least some degree saw ValJean as a separate entity, at least enough to assume he'd know something you didn't. You expected him to be able to respond and because of that he was."

"Of course once he did respond that was it. Talking to him became part of your cognition of him. No putting that genie back in the bottle."

"Great." Zenkichi glared at his golden eyes reflection.

"It is not my fault you are ever the agent of your own undoing." ValJean grinned back.

"Having to listen to you forever is a hell of a price tag for admission into the Phantom Thieves." Zenkichi groused.

"Don't be silly, Valjean's not why you got in." Sakura snorted.

"He isn't?" Zenkichi was at least slightly satisfied to see his persona just as poleaxed. "I asked if it was that simple and you said yes."

"Oh, is that what you meant? Then the answer is no, becoming a Phantom thief is NOT as simple as awakening a Persona." Takamaki clarified.

"Yeah Gramps, thought you knew. You were a Phantom Thief before you entered that dungeon." Sakamoto laughed.

"I was?" If anything Zenkichi was even more confused.

"Get out of there. Run." Kurusu said the words calmly, unlike how he had yelled them the night Akane had been taken. "Those words. That moment."

"Please understand, we wanted to trust you before then." Niijima apologized. "But you're not the first member of 'law enforcement' to demand a deal. And they've never intended to keep their end not even....not even Sis." She clenched her fists, remember a Christmas morning she'd thought be filled with hope instead be replaced with anger and betrayal. "The intention was always for us to end up caged, dead or both."

"So by the time you showed up to blackmail us, we knew anyone working with the authorities was absolutely not to be trusted." Okumura further explained, which really made her 'We hate cops' attitude all the more understandable.

"But that moment was a line in the sand. You could sacrifice us for your career, All you had to do was nothing and you'd be set for life. A false hero for the country to praise." Kurusu continued to explain. "But instead you sacrificed your career for us. You gave warning, ruining your career and taking our place in interrogation." He locked eyes with Zenkichi who was suddenly and forcefully reminded that Joker knew what being on the wrong side of that table was like. Knew more than the others exactly the treatment Zenkichi would expect. "In that moment you had to choose if you were with us or them. And that is when you became a Phantom Thief."

Zenkichi felt a lump in his throat. "I just did was right."

"Exactly." said Sakura. "Exactly."

ValJean laughed. "Did the children not just tell you they have little to no experience with adults doing 'what was right' by them. You have their trust and you have earned it fairly."

He'd earned it. And to be honest that felt a little better than getting his place on the team because he had a Persona.

"So you've been keeping u with your cooking, right? What did you make for Akane for dinner tonight." Okumura's words were friendly, but her eyes were sharp with challenge. Kurursu had also sat up straighter, waiting for his response.

Those damn kids. His damn kids.

His?

Okay, he could deal with this revelation later. Right now he had to defend himself in the court of cooking

~~~~

Honestly the original idea for this fic came from the P5 manga where the theives are playing cards and Joker keeps winning until one of the team accuses him of having a high-luck Persona equipped.

And if that carried over, why not other things? Like Zenkichi healing while he's fighting as long as he isn't using Fury

[thesonicpantheonau]

The Sonic Pantheon. Chapter 2: Tails

The workshop was dark, only illuminated by the screens displaying some strange readings. The only sounds you could hear were the typing of a keyboard and beeping from the monitors. A small, two-tailed fox sat at the desk, trying to figure out what the numbers meant. The door creaked open behind him. “Yo, Tails, you figure it out yet?” Said Sonic, Tail’s older brother. “Not yet, no.” He replied. “I just have the feeling that this is important. These readings, they’re abnormal! They’re like nothing I've ever seen! This could be a revolutionary discovery!” Sonic laughed. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full. But hey, a little break wouldn’t hurt, right? We should probably start heading to the reunion now, anyway.” The reunion! Tails had totally forgotten. He wanted to go and see everyone again, but this was really important. “Let me finish this. I’ll catch up.” 

Sonic hesitated. “Alright, well, don’t take too long!” He said, smiling, before running off. Tails didn’t worry about him taking the plane. In fact, he would probably get there faster without it.

With a sigh, Tails went back to the bright screens.

About 15 minutes later…

Tails sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. This all made no sense! The data was inconsistent, and it kept moving around! He put his hands on his head and groaned. What was going on?

A sudden beeping distracted him from his frustration.The screen showed that the readings had moved yet again. Tails sat up straight and looked up the coordinates that they had moved to. 

This time, however, the readings were different, like something big was about to happen. Judging by the Weather patterns and seismic waves, something destructive.

Luckily it wasn’t in a heavily populated area, just in a small field. 

Right where the reunion was!

Tails stood up quickly and grabbed his communicator to call Sonic. He heard a ringtone in the other room. Of course Sonic would leave it here!

Tails looked at the time, then at the screen. He had about five minutes to get there and warn them. He had to get to the tornado before then! He rushed outside, and the wind nearly knocked him over. What was going on? Tails looked up to see dark clouds in the sky, and felt a drop of rain on his shoulder. Why now? He rushed to the garage and opened it- Only to see a mobian he didn’t know checking out his plane. “Hey! What are you doing?”

The mobian turned to him. He appeared to be a small bee, with a pilot hat and goggles. “Oh! Hi! Sorry, I didn't mean to poke around, it’s just that your plane is so cool! I’ve never seen one before!”

Tails was confused. Why was this random person in his garage? Alone? During a storm- who is this kid? “Sorry, but- who are you? What are you doing in my garage alone? You look like you’re just 10 years old.” “I’m 11, actually, and I forgot to introduce myself!” The bee shook Tail’s hand. “I’m Charmy, Charmy Bee!I’ve heard a lot about you, Talis!”

Talis? “Who’s that?” “That’s you! That’s why I came! To get you! You know, ‘cause chaos came back and all, and you and the other gods need to-” “Woah woah woah. Gods? Others? What are you- You know what? I can’t do this right now, i need to get to my friend, Sonic, So if you could let me get to my plane i-” As he stepped towards his plane, Charmy stepped in front, blocking him. Tails stepped to the side, and Charmy moved with him. This continued multiple times back and forth until Tails got annoyed. “Would you stop that?!”

“Sorry, but I can't until you agree to come with me!” “My friends are in danger! I need to go now!” At that moment, lightning struck alarmingly close to the garage. Tails stared at the spot it had hit, then slowly turned to Charmy, who had a smug, yet a bit scared look on his face. “Now will you come with me?” Tails just stared, considering what just happened, Charmy still looking smug.

Who was this kid?

[velvetporcelain]

“ no. “ —- I thought. this is my time.

let see if we can channel the dull chatter. i see you have came to other one of my sermons. it’s nice to see you back my love.

nothing to preach today. just chatter. today i ran. and I had this picture in my mind of it being absolutely horrible. — but it wasn’t. (proving everything before but is bullshit) —- I walked the first half mile, then ran the two miles — i felt so in control- i felt good- i felt present. my gym boyfriend has been avoiding me, he’s angry at me because he thought i was easy. hahahahahahahahaha. so - i am in the middle of a set— he walks up to me — I don’t get up, I finish my set- make him wait. he said he was driving by and looked to see if my car was in the parking lot. *he knows my car, duly noted* — I said “where have u been?” But he was beating around the bush— “meh I’ve been —“ I cut him off and said “shut up, you hate me right now” —-he stopped and stared at me — and starting laughing — I was nodding my head up and down laughing as well. I’m not stupid. He wanted me to leave with him, god I must have stupid bitch tattooed on my face too— I was like shaking my head in rejection— — “have a nice day mark— I will see you tomorrow” —— he got all excited and wide eyed and said “you’ll be here tomorrow?” With an undertone of anticipation and excitement. —- I smile and laughed — “yes, I will be here tomorrow” —-he says— “oh I got a big workout tomorrow” 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭—- omg this is so fun. 🤭 yes, i may be just a bit bored with life. he obviously has not stopped thinking about me — he’s tried to forget me, but he can’t. I am all he thinks about. — poor thing— sometimes i do feel bad manipulating the fuck out of this man, but it’s worth the show— fuck— sorry, that was mean.

it’s more of a selfish desire to know what i am capable of. just how potent IS my femininity? i already know how potent my masculinity is — so i am genuinely curious, trying to remain my authentic self to see if it changes the way someone actually feels about me. i will no longer make men my identity, as i have made my husband mine for so long. i want to be me, but i also want to be a human being too. i have a thing for mind cruelty— dark psychology— now I wouldn’t do this on anyone i loved —-that would psychopathic—- i like to think that what i do is more enigmatic to the moral psyche. hence my deep dive into to the genealogy of morals —— to better understand myself and our instinctual love for cruelty. If you judge me, then you have probably been on the receiving end of the manipulation—. sorry, that was mean.

anyways, tomorrow i plan on going in and saying “it’s my birthday tomorrow, what are you gonna get me?” —- and see what he says. 😌 I know, cunty. he’s my little experiment, leave me alone. *puts nose in air*

nashville is coming soon. i can’t wait to be my entire self there— forget about all the fables for awhile- be around women that i love. we haven’t had one of these together in about ten years—- im excited to go out with them as adult women———-

—- full grown queen bees looking for honey, well at least i will be the one mind fucking. and no one will know but me, and everyone will feel my beautiful, love goddess energy. 🙇‍♀️✨

-x

[petitemistletoe]

Voyeur-Pt. 2

Pairing: Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x Reader

Warnings: angst for sure!! slowly approaching smut but nothing full on... yet 

Word Count: 1.8K

Elvis was drinking and playing cards with Henry as if he wasn’t harboring the secret that he was in love with you. 

“So! You gotta tell me all about your tour, EP! What’s it like?” Henry asked, looking at Elvis with sheer adoration and wonder. Elvis could tell that Henry was a little jealous, which made Elvis feeling a little better about his jealousy of Henry.

“Oh, I mean, just incredible. There’s no high like getting up on that stage and performing for all those fans. I am a very lucky guy.” Elvis said with an almost shy smile. 

“Oh EP, it’s good to have ya back!” Henry punched Elvis’s shoulder. 

“Henry! Have you seen my pink underwear? I can’t find it anywhere!” You yelled from the other room, storming into the living room where you unexpectedly found Henry and Elvis sipping beer and chatting. You felt your face get hot as you accidentally revealed some very personal information to your boyfriends best friend. 

“Sorry baby, haven’t seen ‘em.” Henry chuckled at your shocked expression, “you haven’t seen them have you, EP?” Henry howled with laughter. You let out an easy chuckle and slumped down so you were sitting in Henry’s lap. Elvis went white and took a long sip of his beer. If only you knew.

“So do you have any big projects coming up?” You asked, leaning forward. 

“I have a show down in Houston this weekend so I’ll be leavin’ in a few days. Say, why don’t you both come with me!” 

“Oh my! I’ve always wanted to go to Houston! I hear swimming in the gulf is just like taking a dip in the hot tub!” You grinned. Elvis’s heart began to swell in his chest. 

“Ah shit, I can’t. I gotta big presentation on Monday in Louisville, I’m leaving with the company on Saturday.” Henry swore. The balloon heart popped. “Say,” Henry began, “Why don’t you go with EP, baby? Seeing Houston has been a dream of yours for a while now. Don’t let me stand in the way.”

“Go…just me and Elvis?” You asked. Elvis was looking between you and Henry like a tennis match. 

“Why not? Elvis, you’ll take care of my girl won’t you? Keep her safe?” Henry looked at Elvis with a giant grin on his face. 

“I, uh, absolutely! I’ll even make sure we get a chance to go out to the gulf.” Elvis smiled. 

“Well, all right!” You clapped your hands, “My god! I need to go shopping and get a new dress and a swimming suit!” 

Elvis felt like his heart was in his throat the entire week leading up to the show. Knowing that he was going to get time alone with you was enough to make him nervous. He pulled up to your house in a cherry red Cadillac and honked the horn playfully a few times. You emerged in a mint green mini dress and an ostentatious pair of sunglasses. It looked like you had gotten your hair done and Henry was carrying a clearly brand new piece of luggage behind you. 

“Oh my god! This car is absolutely gorgeous! I feel like a real socialite!” You hopped into the Cadillac and pushed your sunglasses up onto your head. Elvis could see you were wearing gentle makeup that made you eyes look bigger and your lips fuller. Henry tossed your suitcase in the trunk of the car and leaned down near the window of the driver’s side.

“EP can I talk to you for a second?” Henry looked serious, which made Elvis nervous again. 

“Yeah, yeah. You got it. Why don’t you pick out the radio station, honey bee?” Elvis said before getting out of the car. 

“Listen, I just wanted to say that I’m real grateful that you’re taking my girl with you. It’s all she’s been able to talk about for days. I just…I know what’s it like when you’re on tour and I don’t want my girl to see any of that shit, you understand?” Henry had his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans and he was blushing fiercely. 

“Hey Hen,” Elvis clapped his friends shoulder, “I’ll treat her like she’s my own. I’ll make sure none of that happens, alright? I need a break anyway. It’s high time I have a nice show and just settle to bed after. It’s what my momma thinks happens anyway.” Elvis grinned. Henry released a relieved chuckle.

“Thanks EP. I love ya.” Henry smiled. Elvis got back in the car and Henry leaned over the passenger side window and kissed you goodbye. “Y’all have fun, okay! Take some good pictures for me, alright!” 

Elvis didn’t say anything until Henry was just a speck in the rearview mirror. You had taken your shoes off so your feet were up on the dash and you were scanning the radio stations for one that didn’t sound all staticky. You started laughing when found a station playing Hound Dog. You were singing together as you zoomed down the highway. 

The night of the concert, Elvis thought his heart was going to stop short when he saw you. You were wearing a black mini dress and a pair of white boots. He saw you clapping and dancing around in his peripheral as he performed and he felt like he had to focus on making sure he wasn’t hard while he was on stage. 

“Elvis you were amazing!” You said, jumping into his arms as he left the stage. 

“Thank you darling! I heard about a great barbecue place for dinner a little ways out if you’re hungry!” 

“Oh I’m starved!” 

“Alright then. We gotta go right now then. Before the girls mob the car.” Elvis grabbed you by the waist and you ran to the car as the crowd just started to break through from the doors of the venue. You saw the girls run after the bright caddy as Elvis peeled out of the lot and then floored it until the city roads turned to country roads. You could smell the scent of barbecued meat on the wind and you knew you were getting close.

“What are you feeling like? I heard this place has the best brisket, sausage, pulled pork.”

“Let’s get a little of everything! And some potato salad and macaroni salad and banana pudding!” You looked like you were on cloud nine, you felt like you were on cloud nine. You felt like those socialites you saw on TV. And you loved being around Elvis, you always had. He was Henry’s best friend so it was almost like he was your best friend. Seeing him perform felt otherworldly but so did sitting across from him in the tiny barbecue shop with sauce all over his face. Elvis had excused himself to the bathroom, so you were all alone at the table when a tall man in a black cowboy hat stalking over to you. You had a few beers, too many really, you weren’t that big of a drinker but being around Elvis was a whole different feeling and brought out a whole different side of you. 

“Hey cowgirl,” The man drawled. You giggled and stood up on the seat of the booth to take his hat and put it on your head. 

“Hey cowboy.”

“Can I buy you another drink, pretty lady? Looks like you’re running low on yours.” He said, squeezing into the booth bench next to you and twirling the empty beer bottle between his fingers. 

“Looks like I am. I like your accent.” You smiled, leaning in closer to him.

“I like yours.” He put his arm around you and leaned into you so your noses were nearly touching. The cowboy’s easy expression changed, however, as he was lifted and tossed from the seat. Elvis was standing over the cowboy.

“This lady has a man,” Elvis seethed, “Get off of her.” Elvis grabbed your forearm and pulled you away and back to the car.

“Elvis…” You still had the cowboy hat on and you were feeling embarrassed. You were with Henry, you had no business flirting with a strange Texan-even if you were drunk. 

“I’m sorry, honey bee, I shouldn’t’ve left alone. I told Henry I’d keep you safe.” Elvis said quietly. You didn’t answer for a while, your head was still spinning from all the alcohol. You could smell however, the unmistakable smell of salt water. 

“Are you taking me to the gulf?” You broke into a grin. 

“I promised you I would,” Elvis said, his easy smile returning to his face. The car took a turn and the car pulled in smoothly to a sandy area that overlooked a large clear body of water. You leapt from the car, kicking your shoes and tearing your dress off before diving in the water. 

“Where ya going?” Elvis said, sound a little alarmed. 

“Swimming! You coming?” You floated on your back in the water and Elvis stared for a second before looking away. He felt the metaphorical devil and angel sitting on his shoulders. He thought for a moment, you were his best friend’s girl. But then he heard you giggle and he thought what the hell, tore the clothes off his body, and dove in after you. 

He paddled over until he was close to you in the water. You were laughing and you wrapped your arms around Elvis’s neck. 

“Thank you! I’ve never had more fun. I wish I could tour with you full time.” You batted your eyelashes at him. 

“Me too, honey bee. This has been my favorite show yet.” Elvis was wracking his brain, desperately trying to find a way to invite you on the tour. 

“Can’t believe I have to go back to work on Monday. I hate working at the McKinley.” You worked at the concierge desk at an extravagant hotel in downtown Memphis. 

“Say, why don’t you come and handle the accommodations for all our sets. I think that’s too big of a job for my daddy on top of all the manager stuff. I’ll talk to the colonel but I can pay you double whatever that silly little hotel is paying you!”

“Oh Elvis!” You kissed him excitedly. You back away and laughed again. “Aw god I really am drunk!”

Elvis had a small smile on his face as he watched you paddle towards the shore. 

[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.

[paperpeacock]

Klaus Hargreeves x Reader - Spring

♡Summary- Blossoms, picnics, and the sunny morn, Klaus Hargreeves never imagined he'd be in a place so soft.

The trees wafted in the morning breeze, casting petals from their branches into the wind and up to the pale morning sky. You gazed towards it, Mascari blue and decorated in towering white clouds. You brushed away some wayward leaves from the blanket, smoothing the fabric against the grass. It had to be perfect, you thought whilst fixing the hair atop your head. You looked wonderful, but you wouldn't believe anyone even if they told you so.  

You picked the best spot you could think of, Cherry Hill. Decorated in spring blossoms and pretty finches that cling to the benches. You often came here with a certain someone, well, at least when he had the time. Lately, things have been happening, terrible things outside of your control. Things you wish you could stop because it hurt you to see him in so much pain. However, now was not the time to dwell on such dismal topics, for the worst of it seemed over and you could finally relax in each other's company. 

“Sorry I'm late” you were snapped from your thoughts, spinning round to see him. 

“I brought the goods” he flashed a small smile, holding up two plastic bags. You watched idly as he arrived. His body shifted from the shadowy foliage of the forest and into the small patch of sunshine you perched beneath. His curly locks caught light from the glowing morn. 

“I thought you’d never come” you giggled whilst making room for his lanky stature. 

“Yeah well, you know how they are” he waved his hand about. “Especially five, God all he talks about is the end of the world” Your eyes widened, you knew he dealt with pressing matters but not this. Klaus noticed, letting out an airy laugh. “Don't worry, pretty sure it's all fixed”. You shook your head, smiling.  

“What snacks did you bring” you quietly asked, picking at the plastic bags. 

“Well,” He shuffled closer to you. “I got a lot of chips and” He went on pulling them out. “Your favorite” he beamed, handing you the pack of sweets. Your cheeks flushed to a rose, gently taking the package in your hands.  

“Thank you” You tilted your head, lending him a small smile. Klaus felt his heart warm at your gentle face. Because you were often quiet, sealing your feelings far away, locking them deep inside but when Klaus was there, you felt them burst at the seams. 

You sat for a moment, gazing out at the cityscape coated in spring and sun as if pulled straight from a postcard, in a world full of tyranny and regret Klaus marveled at how anything could be so beautiful, that didn't just include the view. He gazed upon you, hair sightly pricked by the breeze, cheeks flushed in scarlet, your laughter like ringing church bells. Suddenly, a once warm feeling became a fleeting one, as if chased away, the bees swarmed past the lovely flowers and instead to the aching hive. 

“Klaus” The man was pulled from his thoughts, faced with your worried gaze. “What's wrong?”  

“I-” he paused, hands clenching the fabric beneath. He then let out a long and tiresome sigh, falling onto his back, hair meeting the grass. 

“Y/N, I feel so out of place” he explained. “You're such a good person” he stretched out a hand, reaching for the sun. “And I'm not” retracting it away. You shuffled a bit, placing yourself next to him.  

“Klaus” he faced you, his emerald eyes searching. “You are a good person” You reassured. He groaned, tilting his head back.  

“You don’t have to lie to me Y/N, I know what I am, a screw up” His chest tightened the feeling growing ever larger. Trapped in this state, he didn't register your movements. 

“Klaus” you repeated, commanding his attention. “You think I would fall in love with a screw-up,” You asked; eyes aflame. His eyes widened. “Klaus, I’ll always love you. Because I didn't fall in love with your mistakes, I’m in love with you” 

 Your eyes glittered in the sun, powdered in crystal tears. “Klaus, I love you” You shouted, wind rushing past, swirling petals into the sky. As it continued to scrape past, it only grew more powerful. Whipping your hair into a flurry, blocking your gaze. You felt pressure on your dress. 

“I love you too”. Arms caged around you, shielding your dress from the gale. “So, much” he smiled, forehead against yours. 

[strawberry-jammers]

child reader (Pt.4)

tommy x child!reader || whys he here??

someone comes to the tundra to fight the blade (also some cute fluff)

pt1 pt 2 pt3 pt4 pt5

masterlist

this took so long lmao, part 5 coming soon

This story will diverge from the cannon. Since i cant remember it well im just gonna do my own thing.

------

The three of them, techno tommy and little (y/n), lived together peacefully for a bit. Techno and tommy would occasionally spar and commit minor terrorism, while (y/n) got to play with tommy and uncle techno. 

(y/n) has grown a bit sense they had arrived there, being a happy kid like they should be.

On calm nights, techno would read to the little kid, stories of gods who ruled over the lands. Stories of himself in his times of adventure. They enjoyed all his stories, for they held a sort of unreachable curiosity that they loved oh so much.

“Im not reading you a story.” techno says. Sitting in his usual arm chair. He had come back from the nether not long before, just wanting to rest after a long day of fighting withers. He didnt expect the kid to want to hang out with him. “Pwease uncle tech!” they said. He shook his head. “I said no.” (y/n) huffed, getting off the arm of the chair, walking to the pile of books that stood in the coroner of the room. 

They looked through it, trying to find the one they wanted. Once they did, they let out a happy ‘aha!’ and stumbled to the grumpy piglin, book in hand. “This one this one! Pleaaaase!!” they said. Showing techno the book. He examined it, realizing that it was the story about himself that philza had given to him as a joke gift. His eyes widened. ‘Why would the brat wanna read about me?’ he pondered. He just sighed, gently grabbing the book from the small hands it was being held in. “Fine, fine, I'll read you the story.” 

(y/n) smiled, climbing up to sit on the piglins lap, wanting to try and read the book along with him. He huffed, not really agreeing to them sitting on him. None the less he opened the book, reading the unfinished tale to the child sitting before him.

“Once centuries ago, there was a young lad cursed to hear ungodly voices…”

Those were nights (y/n) enjoyed the most. They couldn't read, but having techno read to them was much better than reading a book all alone.

On most days Tommy would play with (y/n) outside. Neither of them got bored of the snow, being used to the sunny weather that was logstedshire. It was a nice change of pace that (y/n) enjoyed. 

The two of them usually had snow ball fights, or tried to build towers and mini houses out of the snow. Tommy would build them snowmen, ones that looked like the people they knew. Others were sometimes ones they hadn't seen before, that Tommy would tell stories of when they would go to bed.

“Papa look!” tommy turned to his kid, who was happily standing next to a snow version of himself. It was small and barely looked like himself, but he easily recognized it. He came up to the small child, picking them up happily. “That's me!? It's amazing little (f/i)! You did so well!!” he said, ruffling the young ones hair. They giggled at the action. 

“Wanna see mine?” (y/n) nodded. He walked over to the snowman he had built, showing them to his kid.

They looked familiar, (y/n) thought. These were the people in the storys (y/n) was told, the man with words of wisdom and guitar playing skills that calmed every citizen, who had tragically died in their last battle. The boy who was by papas side, who loved bees and everyone he knew. The young baker who had a kind heart and a smile that could put anyone at ease. Jack manifold.

Tommy spemnt a very long time creating this, purely so he could show (y/n) his old friends at least once. “Whos that one??” (y/n) asked, pointing to the the fox looking one, standing tall next to the leader, wilbur. “That's fundy. He didn't do much in the war, but he was an amazing fighter, and also a furry.`` Tommy replied, setting the child down. They ran up to the snowman. “Furry furry furry!!” they chanted, making the young boy laugh. “Yes furry!”

Most days now were spent with all three of them playing games inside till the late hours. After (y/n) had gotten sick from being outside so much, Tommy decided to just stay inside the warm cabin. They would bug techno alot, but he enjoyed the company some days. It was better than staying inside alone with an enderman who didn't really like him.

Today however, was different. For they had an unexpecting visitor who was very friendly. 

--

Techno was making breakfast, as usual. He had learned that if he didnt, neither of the innits would eat till dinner when their bodys couldn't handle it anymore. It wasn't good for a young baby like that. Not that techno cared tho.

He was putting the dirty pots and pans in the sink, knowing he'd try and force Tommy to do it later. He started to put the food onto plates when he heard shouting coming from outside. "TECHNOBLADE GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!!!" 

Techno stops for a second. No one could possibly have the balls to fight him, let alone twice. Technoblade put the stuff in his hands down, walking over to the window to try and see who was out there. As he thought, it was none other than Quackity trying to pick a fight with him once more. 

"I CAN SEE YOU PIGMAN! COME OUT HERE AND GET WHAT YOU DESERVE!!!" The duck man was actually prepared this time, with enchanted netherite armor and an axe to go with it. It seemed he upped his game sense last time. 

Techno chuckled, going upstairs to grab his things real fast. There's no way someone can try and beat technoblade like that. He came back down to see Quackity opening his door. "Heh!? Why are you inside my house!?" Quackity stood there, axe gripped tightly. Techno reached the floor, grabbing his sword. "Why can't I be in your house techno? Hiding something?" 

Ah shit he's onto us

Kill him

Haha he looks funny

Techno shook his head. "Just thought you'd play fair duck man. That's what you government people love to try and do." Quackity stepped forward. "Why would I play fair with the man whos supposed to be dead? This has been a long time coming," Quackity readied his axe, "get ready blade, cause i'm finally killing you." Techno readied his sword as well. "I'd like to see you try." 

Just as they said this, someone came up from the floorboards. "*yawn* techno are you done with breakfast yet- HOLY FUCK QUACKITY!?" a tired Tommy says, holding a nearly sleeping (y/n). The two men turn to Tommy, seeing him and his child. "Oh? So this is what you were hiding. Haven't seen you sense the exile!" Quackity says, getting closer. Tommy got up from the ladder, shrinking behind technoblade, trying to protect his kid. 

"What are you doing here big q?" Tommy says, hiding his kid. “I could ask you the same thing. What's that you've got there? Technos kid or something?” 

“Well no-” “quackity leave them alone.” techno cuts off tommy, moving more so in front of him. He cant let the baby die, he knows phil would pumble him if he does. “This is between you and me quackity. Leave them alone.” quackity shook his head, pointing his axe at tommy. “Anyone alined with you is an enemy of mine. Even if he's an old friend.” quackity lunged at techno, who blocked the attack swiftly. Quackity tried to get around the man, so he could grab the child from tommys arms. (y/n) was now awake however, and they weren't very happy.

“Papa?” they ask, realizing there was an axe lunging towards them. Quackity got around the blade, and was already trying to get to them. Tommy noticed the axe coming their way, completely ready to take the hit for his kid. 

Techno blocked the attack however. “Tommy get them to safety! I can handle this.” tommy nodded, running as quackity and techno dueld. Wuackity tried to run after tommy, but techno blocked him. “Not interesting enough for you q?” he smirks, swinging his sword at the duck man. Quackity blocks, scolding. “You're really full of yourself aren't you?”

Tommy ran outside, running to the only place he knew big q wouldn't find them, (y/n)s old hut. He ran and ran for so long, it had reached past mid day when he reached the small home he had made so many months prier. He sighed, closing the door behind him. (y/n) had long since woken up, and was very agitated. They had not eaten yet and it's been hours. “Shit shit sorry (y/n).'' Tommy says, laying the child in their old bed. He looked around the old home for anything he had left behind. He found some stuff, but he still had to go out to get food. 

When he was done, he quickly fed the crying child. “I'm sorry kiddo, I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think quackity would wanna harm you. Sh shhh im sorry.” he picks up the crying child, kinda like how they first met. A crying (y/n) and a terrified tommy. 

“Pappa- '' Tommy cuts them off, shushing them. “Just rest, Just rest…” the kid nodded, calming down slightly.

The two of them stayed like that till the sun rose the next day.

The next day Tommy got a message on his communicator by techno. Apparently quackity had won the fight, having threatened to chase after them and kill them. Techno begrudgingly went to get executed a second time. Thankfully he lived however, thanks to ranboo and tubbo stopping it. The two of them were currently at the blades house. 

Tommy didnt wanna deal with seeing tubbo, but he knew he couldn't stay out here for more than an hour. He sighed. “Hey (y/n), how would you like it if you might get to meet new friends?” (y/n) looked at him, smiling. “Yeah new friends!!” he smiled, picking up the excited child. “Let's go back to uncle technos!” “uncle techy!!!” Tommy and (y/n) laughed. Tommy got ready and left for the tundra.

Hopefully tubbo wouldn't be there when he got there.

[megthemewlingquim]

A Small, Smutty Drabble

This is something I’ve been wanting to write for a long time, ever since I saw this post by @shiningloki .  I give full credit to the anon who asked this, and Bee for the continuation. This is just me writing my interpretation of this ask.

Smut under the cut.

Loki’s tone is not harsh, but it is adamant. “Come for me,” he murmurs.

Despite the vibrator tied to your nether regions, you can’t. You aren’t ready yet. “I —” you gasped. “It’s not guh-gonna work yet —”

“I know you can do it, my love. Come for me.”

You gasp, a sob welling up. You clutch your fists around nothing, the rope digging roughly into your wrists. Your pussy aches, and your body is tense and so, so hot with need, but the release you're craving is not ready to crest. You're ready, so ready to please him, but you're unable to. “L-Loki, I’m s-sorry, I can’t —”

There is a little change in Loki’s eyes. Once filled with dominance and lust, they soften, and his tone becomes softer as well. “Darling?” he asks. He notices your upset, and turns the vibrator off. Your privates still burn and ache, but the weight is lifted, and you gasp out again, this time in relief. “Darling, it’s alright,” Loki whispers, gently soothing your trembling and aching body by running his hands over you. “It’s alright, dear one, I’m sorry.”

“Loki, I’m sorry —” you whimper. “I-I couldn’t d-do it—”

“No,” he sighs, “no, sweetness, don’t apologize. We can work for it, you know. I’m sorry I’ve demanded so much from you in such little time. I just have faith in you, ‘s all. Would you like me to untie you?”

You nod shakily. “P-please...”

He nods and unties you quickly. He does it gently, rubbing your wrists after the rope has come off. “Sweetness, we can try it again whenever you’re ready,” he says.

After you’ve been untied, he gets into the bed with you, paying no attention to the vibrator now lying still and quiet on the bed. He holds you, shushing you, kissing your knuckles and forehead and lips, and whispering endearments and praises. How good you’ve been for me... you’re such a good girl... my good girl...

It’s takes a week for it to finally work.

You’re aching again, trembling and panting, as Loki runs his right hand along your thighs. He’s beside you, on your own right side, and he’s whispering your favorite phrases and pet names, because he knows that it gets you going — and helps you feel safer.

“Darling love, are you enjoying this? I know you are. Look at you, such a pretty thing...”

His fingers find your clit, and you jump, your nerves extra sensitive this time. Loki has taken his time with you today, drawing out every little action until you were panting, gasping desperately, begging him to do something.

"It's alright, sweetheart, it's just me. You're alright."

A few moments go by with nothing else said. Your eyes are fixed on Loki's face, and he keeps his own eyes on your pussy, and your twitching movements. You know he's going to draw this out, too —

"Come for me," he whispers. It's the gentlest look he gives you, the loving tone he has. He says as if he's asking it of you.

"Wh-what?" you ask, a flush of warmth overtaking you. It completely takes you by surprise.

"Honey, I know you can do it. Come for me."

Before you can say anything else, you're coming, and you have no idea how. Your wrists grip the bedsheets tighter than you ever have before, and you practically moan out a sob as your orgasm sweeps over you. You can vaguely register Loki's voice inside the cacophony of the blood rushing in your ears.

"There you go," Loki whispers, "oh, good girl."

"Oh — oh my God," you whimper, looking to your side and burying your head into the pillow. "Wh-whatthefuck—"

"Baby, there you go, you've done it. I'm so proud of you..." Loki seems to know that your orgasm is dying down. "That's it, just catch your breath." You open your eyes just a little, all sluggish, and you snap them open all the way when you see Loki's expression.

His grin is positively wicked. Mischievous. Primal.

"No," you whimper, "no, Loki, no please—"

Whenever you say "no", you don't mean it. You say it only out of anticipation.

"Come on," he says in that same gentle tone. He rubs your clit just a tad faster. "Come again."

Immediately, you're seized by another orgasm, and you're silent this time. Your breath leaves you in a slow whimper, and tears slip out of your eyes.

Loki praises you through that one, too, saying the same sweet things you love. Calling you pretty names, praising how you've done. Saying how proud he is of you.

Then, he notices your tears. Immediately, he stops. His hands leave you, but they're on you again once he's on the bed himself.

"It's alright, I've got you, my darling," he says, sitting criss cross and drawing you into his arms. First he hugs you to him, your arms and legs around his torso. He rubs your back, shushing you quietly and kissing your cheek and forehead.

Then, he begins to sway back and forth.

"That's it, that's my sweet girl. Just breathe with me. You did so well, so well for me. Such a beautiful, lovely sweetheart... You okay?"

You nod shakily. "Y-yes. I-I'm okay..."

"You're such a good girl, you know. My darling. Darling love..."

[swtki]

HP Boys: Surprise Pregnancy Head Cannons

Summary: The HP boys and their reaction to their s/o (afab) being pregnant when its not planned.

A/N: This takes place post Hogwarts so all characters are 18+, though no real smut happens in this so its not an 18+ fic.

WARNINGS: UNPLANNED PREGNANCY, MENTIONS OF PRO CHOICE OPINIONS, MENTIONS OF SEX IN LITE TERMS, SWEARING, FLUFF, MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL, ALSO THIS IS SUPER LONG SORRY LOL

Draco

So everything is going great for the happy couple, you two just moved into a flat together and are working normal jobs, drinking wine like adults.

And sure, Draco knows he wants to marry you, but he knows you’re not ready to settle down like that so he just plans and dreams.

Due to poor choices, when you’re late by two weeks, you know what it probably is.

Draco doesn’t even notice that you ran out to the store and came back and hid in the bathroom for 10 minutes. CEO of minding his own business ig

You just kinda...walk up to him and hand him all 3 tests while your eyes fill with tears because what if he demands you get an abortion?

Or what if he fucks off to god knows where?

But instead he just looks at you with the most un-draco like smile. Like his face was soft and it looked like he could cry any moment.

“Oh my god,” He says, putting his hand on your belly, “I can be ready for this, but if you aren’t then we can you know...”

“No, I want it” then both of you rejoice bc yay baby!

Cut to 6 months later when your feet hurt so bad you have to lay down and watch while Draco fails to put a crib together.

He eventually gets it done tho.

And when the time comes, he’s built and arranged everything for your bundle of joy.

Harry

So you guys are probably already married, but with everything at the ministry going on, it makes Harry less than a family man.

You both agree that it’s probably better to wait so you can be home and yk...raise it.

Well smart man Harry forgets that to not have a kid you need to use protection.

So of course when your period is late you don’t think about it, until its four weeks late.

That night, you and Harry are laying in bed, and thats when you tell him.

“Harry..I’m late.”

“Late for what?” headass.

You: 😳😐

Him: 👁👁😲😲

He’s hesitant to say anything, because he knows its ultimitley up to you what happens with it until its out.

“I think I want to keep it...you know it wont remember much for the first year and a half so if things are stressful it will be okay and-“

“Love...Its going to be perfect”

Mf built the crib in like 45 minutes I swear.

And of course he forced you to keep up with your vitamins, pre natal care, and appointments.

Swear tho you’re about to kill him because cofFeE

But the way he holds your baby 🥺 its his most valued thing ever now.

Ron

Ron is iffy on the kid thing sometimes.

He does want them, but only later when you guys have lived and travled.

So no, you two haven’t planned nor is it even in the picture when your wedding roles around.

It’s in the early days of the marriage when you see his family at the burrow on the way back from the honeymoon.

And of course Molly knows

Because Weasleys are hyperfertile I swear.

She takes you into the kitchen and puts her hands on your arms, shes got that big Mrs.Weasley smile on too.

“I knew it!” She says and pulls you in for a hug, “How far dear??”

You’re just standing there like🧍🏻

“I can see it by the way you glow! Oh my you and my Ron must be so happy!” This woman doesn’t notice that you’re confused.

“Wait what? Mrs. Weasley what are you-?” Then you count the days, “Oh. Well I guess I just found out for myself”

Her face falls slightly, but then she tells you can make you a potion that will tell you if you are or not, stan.

The stupid potion turns green when you spit into it, so everything is confirmed.

That night, you and Ron are getting ready for bed in the guest room and you decide to tell him.

“Ron, sweetie. We need to talk.” He looks like he’s gonna start crying but sits next to you on the bed.

“Y/N...I know its scary but please, we just got married I don’t want to divorce quite just yet 🥺🥺”

“Ron I-“ you start smiling, “I’m pregnant you dufus.”

He just freezes, for a while. Not saying anything, he just looks at the wall with his mouth ajar.

So you get up and go to Ginny.

“Gin, I broke him.”

“Ew, I don’t want to know about how you and him”

“No, I told him that I’m pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah that would do it. Just I don’t know... Give him a minute?”

You give him several, getting a glass of water then heading back up to the room.

Ginny was right, he needed a minute.

“I don’t...I wasn’t...you were.?”

“You don’t have to stay, but I think we can do it. Plus, you would disapoint your mom if you left so...”

“Okay...we’ll do it. I’ll be the best damn Father you have ever seen.” He says, talking to your womb.

Well...he’s a father I’ll give him that.

Pro of having a Weasley baby: free crib thats already put together.

Even if it looks like a death trap.

“We’ll put some blankets over it don’t worry”

You know how some Dads hold their parters hand during the delivery? Yeah he got sick and was moral support from the outside.

To be fair, you weren’t screaming in pleasure by any means.

Scary. But beautiful.

He shows the kid to everyone, he might be more in love with the baby than he is with you.

Ron see’s the appeal of having kids now.

Neville

Moving in with your boyfriend is always fun, right up until you guys go at it so much you forget protection more than once.

You think about it, then move on with your day.

Until the doctor calls, then “oh fuck”

Romance Neville bf

“Why aren’t you having any wine? I thought it was your favorite?”

“I don’t think fetal alcohol syndrome is my favorite.” BRO HE SPAT

But he looks up with tears in his eyes, and runs over to you to grasp you in a hug.

“Oh my god! You’re pregnant! Oh my - We’re gonna be parents!! Oh my god we’re gonna be parents oh-“ Que you petting his hair till he’s calm again.

Lets be honest, this man probably swapped the herbology books for the parenting guides.

“Well I mean I’m just wondering if we should go with this color or this one”

“Nev, it doesn’t matter. Our baby will not care.”

“I read in my book that Infants actually can recognize mood in-“

He won’t let you do anything during your pregnancy.

Gotta love a man who cries because he loves you so much and you’re having his kid.

“I never had a father, what if I do it wrong? What if the baby hates me and runs away at seven?”

“We’ve got quite a lot of time before then.”

He was there during delivery, letting you crush his hand like a champ.

You can’t help but cry when you see him sleeping on the floor next to the crib, its so sweet.

Fred

You two most likely already had two kids, so you decided to wait a bit so your hands weren’t quite full.

Well...your body decided not to wait.

A test provides the two lines, another wild child.

The two toddlers already run around like thing one and thing two, only with red hair.

I think Fred would gladly make the family dinner, and wear an apron. He’d own it, as he should.

But mf gotta not drop the salad bowl when you tell him of the fetus inside you.

“Fred we are going to have a bee-ay-bee-why.”

Your five year old has just begun to spell 😐

He’s happy tho.

Like over the fuckin moon.

He buys the two kids big brother/sister shirts too 🥺🥺

He knows the drill pretty well, so he isn’t too worried about the future.

But its funny that he still freaks out about the crib and feeding chair since he gave it away, you know because you guys werent having another kid.

He packed a hospital bag and kept it in the trunk, counting down the days.

Hours of delivery (He just sat back and held your hand) only to end up with a room full of 7 Weasley family members.

Fred always said that 3 was his lucky number :)

George

You guys were taking it slow, no marriage until you both felt it was time. And certainly no children before that.

Well you know...things changed when the test was positive.

You slid it over on the table, tears pooling in your eyes. He was stunned and quiet, which made you burst out sobbing because you knew that neither of you planned on having a baby.

But to your surprise he starts to smile.

“I want whatever you want, I’m staying by your side no matter what.”

“I mean...would it really be so bad? A house, a kid, a dog?” He holds your hand as you think aloud.

You both give it a week to think it over and the virdict is to keep it.

Thats when he decides he has to marry you, asap because he loves you and will never let you go especially now.

He loves to gush about the carrier of his child, to him you are a godess.

He’s the Dad with a predestination complex.

“Y/N, I just see him being a star quiditch player”

“George, we don’t know if it’s a him.”

He rolls his eyes “Okay then I can see her being a star-“

He made Hermione take you out for a movie date so he could rearrange your bedroom, since you only had a single bedroom flat.

You come back to a new set up including a cot.

Damn pregnancy hormones make brain go 🥺😭😭

He freaks when your water breaks lol

ceo of driving like a maniac to the hospital.

He can’t hold your hand, he’s pacing back and forth, sweating and maybe crying though he’ll never admit to it.

You get the joy of watching him cuddle the baby while refusing to give your child to you.

“George I’d like to hold-“

“No, you need your sleep honey, don’t worry”

Hogging the child.

Cedric

Its no secret that Cedric wants a baby someday.

And he makes it clear your wedding will be spectacular too.

However, finding out you’re pregnant the week of your dream wedding was a shock.

A shock that made you bang your head into the wall because how could you be so stupid?? We had a plan??

So you decide to wait until after the wedding, that way it wont add onto the stress (happy stress) of the wedding.

Cedric keeps trying to fill your glass at the reception, to which you kindly refuse saying you want to remember the night entirely.

Yeah he’s like 🤨 mhm okay.

You can only pick at the dinner because ew salmon doesn’t sound like an option if you want to keep the contents of your stomach.

As everyone waves goodbye to the car, and you both set off into married life, he leans over.

“I may be out of my mind, but are you...?”

“Pregnant.” His face lights up, pulling you into a hug.

Finally, your car pulls up to a small cottage with lush garden scapes all around, putting a hand out, he walks you both from the car to the door.

“Ced, where are we?”

“Home.”

Somehow it was perfect with Cedric, even when it was rushed.

He loved talking to your womb, even if it was weird that he was talking about the babies future brothers and sisters.

“Cedric, slow down. We haven’t even had this one yet”

Basically he is father of the year before he’s a full father.

He’s there while you deliver, holding your hand and telling you how great you’re doing.

He doesn’t even complain when you insult him <3.

He updates you on everything.

If his eyes aren’t on that child, he’s either asleep or dead.

I think Cedric was meant to be a family man, because he loves everything about being one.

Taglist: @truly-insatiable @amourtentiaa @imdoingathingmom @annasdani @anchoeritic @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @cedricsyellowscarf @faeinorbit

[emile-hides]

Crybaby imagines

I can’t find any BNHA X Reader blogs with their requests open, so heck it. Make the content you want to see in the world.

MHA Blonde boys react to reader crying (for various reasons)

Characters: All Might, Present Mic, Fatgum, Aoyama, Ojiro, Kaminari, Bakugo, Honenuki, Monoma, Mirio

All Might

1-A is an amazing bunch

It sort of just all hit you like a truck, really

How much 1-A had grown, how much they’d overcame

You’re not even entirely sure what sparked the thought process

But once it stared, you couldn’t stop

You were just so?? Proud??? Amazed???

Suddenly you were crying at your desk in the teacher’s lounge

Quiet, heavy tears

Your co-workers took notice, but it was Toshinori who approched your first asking what was wrong

You hadn’t even noticed you were crying

When you get into the why he’s all ears

He sits next to you and is soon joining in on the kid’s progress

He talks mostly about Bakugo and Midoriya, you go on about Asui and Koda

It turns to laughing and quietly bullying the kids for a moment as you two enjoy some of the sillier memories

Soon Toshinori, too, has tears in his eyes

He sobs more than you did

He’s just so proud of these kids!!

You feel like an old married couple talking about their 30-something kids living far from home

Kind of silly considering they’re all 15 and currently in class right down the hall

You two have to go see them during lunch break

Present Mic

Crying in Solidarity

You stood with Hizashi in front of a grave of a kid you never knew on an overcast day

He’d normally make a comment about the weather matching the mood but...

Not now

His fists were clenched, and though his smile stood strong and his glasses hid his eyes

They couldn’t catch his tears

You held his hand in silence and pretended not to notice the falling of his facade 

It happens very seldom

He was shaking, you could hear his breath hitch hard despite his attempts to remain calm

You didn’t know this Shirokumo kid, you’d never met him, you couldn’t pick him out in a crowd if you had to

You didn’t even know who he was to Hizashi

But you knew it tore him up inside that he was buried here

You knew he kept his emotions well contained for everything else but him

You pulled Hizashi a bit closer, letting him lean onto you as tears began to run down your cheeks

The two of you stood in silence and cried on this, an overcast day

The weather really did match your mood.

Fatgum

Crying in relief

The hospital door opened with a loud slam

You didn’t really mean to slam it so hard but now wasn’t the time to go apologizing to inanimate objects for being a little rough

Your voice shrilled even louder than the door the name of the patient laying on the bed in the center of the room

Taishiro looked up with a face of ‘Oh shit’ which was the correct face to have

You were mad for all of the time it took to yell about how worried you were

FIRST OF ALL he didn’t even call to tell you he was in the hospital, you got that information from Tamaki

Second, you barely even know what HAPPENED to land him here

And THIRD,

Nope. Anger’s gone. Evaporated like a puddle in mid July.

Taishiro had sat up in his bed with a nervous smile, peppering in the nicknames and speaking in the gentle voice as he reached out to console you

Just seeing him sit up, his arms bandaged lightly around the wrist

It all just came crashing in

He was fine. 

Tears over flowed as you cried a bit louder than you had yelled previously

Hiccuping and gasping out how worried you were and how mad you still wanted to be

Taishiro just laughed an apology as he hugged you, thankful for your concern

He promised to call next time

You found yourself yelling at him to never do this again

Aoyama

Crying on command

Acting was something you had mastered

More or less anyway

You dove head first into a role and you were damn good at it

But everyone has weaknesses

You’d locked yourself in Aoyama’s room, going over lines and choreography for some little play in the park you two had signed up for

Now you sat on his floor as he painted your nails, glaring daggers into the script

You had to cry. 

It seemed so easy. Think of something sad and cry over it on stage. Simply.

and yet your eyes remained dry, your stage make-up perfect

Aoyama had been couching you, weeping all sorts of tears for your amusment

It wasn’t helping

You turned your glare to Aoyama, who was completely enthralled in drawing tiny art pieces into your nails

God he was bright

....bright.....

You looked directly up at the light on the ceiling and stared

Your eyes wide you forced yourself not to blink

It hurts

And it worked

You looked back to Aoyama with tears streaming down your face and searing pain in your retina

He applauded your dedication

Ojiro

It’s all just a lot

You weren’t really sure when it all became so much

But everything you’d been working at and training for suddenly weighed more than you could bare

You found yourself in the middle of the UA empty halls, flat on the ground on your stomach

Tripping was the breaking point

The straw that broke the camel’s back, as they say

You just started sobbing

When you heard footsteps coming you just kind of... wiggled out of the way

Pressing yourself to the wall you just continued to cry to yourself, curled in a ball, expecting the other person to just pass you by

Instead a soft white handkerchief gently pressed to your cheek, followed by a quiet “Are you okay?”

You were not okay.

Ojiro sat himself beside you as you wiped your face, continuing to sob

You didn’t offer an explanation, he didn’t ask for one

He sat in the hall quietly with you, his tail giving the occasional swish to brush your cheek of tears

The silence gave to time to catch your breath, and realize class probably started a long time ago

When you got up to be on your way, he joined you

He didn’t offer to walk you where you needed to go, he simply did

His quiet wave, his silent smile, his patient glances at you

It all made everything feel just a bit lighter

The next time you’d see Ojiro in the halls, he’d smile at you

And he’d be delighted if you could smile back

Kaminari

Crying from shock

It was just a little zap to the hip, a little bee sting

He’d been doing it to everyone in class, learned it from some stupid tiktok

When it was your turn to get stung, you let out the loudest yelp in the class

He laughed at first, proudly proclaiming how he’d gotten you

Until you whipped to him with fury in your eyes, along with tears

His panicked “Shit, wait, I’m sorry” fell on deaf ears as you quickly gave him a return jab in the hip

Without the actual shock part it probably wasn’t as painful

So you did it a few more times for good measure

Then he jabbed you again

And it was on

Jabs to the hip turned to jabs to the gut, armpit, neck, even right dead center in his chest

You were both in pain and sure to be covered in bruises when Iida finally separated you two

It was hard to see with the tears swelling in both your eyes

But when Denki made direct eye contact with you before giving a glance to Iida, you knew

You nodded, an evil smirk crossing your face

The two of you took your index and middle fingers, driving them quickly and roughly into the class rep’s hips simultaneously

His yelp had the entire class laughing

It then also had the entire class in study hall for the rest of break

Bakugo

He’s just kind of a dick

Standing outside of class 1-A you felt as though your heart was beating in your throat

When the door opened you jumped out of your skin as a green haired boy came out at full speed

He managed to stop on a dime before slamming into you though

You choked out the courage to ask him if Katsuki Bakugo was in class

The kid before you stared in shock before turning around and calling for a “Kacchan”, telling him someone was here to see him

You glanced in the door and watched as several people pried the man you wanted to see from his seat, shoving him forcefully to the door

They all then slammed the door behind him, keeping the green haired kid who seemed in a rush to leave trapped inside

He barked a what at you that made you reconsider all your choices

Still. You swallowed all your courage, and said what you came here to say.

You confessed your feelings to Bakugo, bravely. 

He stared at you with a face of utter confusion, and it managed to catch you a bit off guard

He looked like he didn’t know how to respond

Which he, of course, didn’t.

So he responded the only way he really knows how

Anger.

“WHO THE HELL EVEN ARE YOU?!”

He called you some background extra. What gave you even the slightest though he’d want to be with some nobody he didn’t even know the name of

Within seconds of his screaming the 1-A doors slammed open yet again

The group who’d peeled Bakugo from his seat before jumped from the room and began wrestling him into submission, berating him for his treatment of you

But you were inclined to agree with him

You told them it was fine. He was right, you were just some nobody

You couldn’t stop your voice from shaking, tears streaming from your eyes as you gripped tightly at your shirt

Not knowing really what else to do, you turned and ran away

It was well over a few hours later, and you were still crying alone in the court yard

You flinched at the sound of footsteps approaching you. You closed your eyes and planned to make a run for it somewhere else to avoid bothering anyone

“Hey, dumbass,” a hand placed on your forehead, pulling you back to lean on the person behind you, “You could do a lot better than an ass like me.”

You glanced at Bakugo, who was looking far into the distance, his ears red

You cried and apologized. He didn’t say much else, but his hand remained on you, keeping you in place

You found yourself invited out more, running around with Bakugo and his friends, being rowdy and dumb as teens should be

Your crush on Katsuki Bakugo soon became a distant memory as he grew to be one of your closest friends

Honenuki

Yawning

You flopped dramatically onto the common room couch and let out the loudest, most drawn out sigh you could muster

This act of pure drama drew the attention of Juzo Honenuki, who simply chuckled at your antics

You stretched like a cat across the couch, reaching for him lazily with one hand, you swatted at the book he’d been comfortably reading

He gave another chuckle and inquired what you were after

You answered with an equally dramatic and drawn out yawn, bringing tears to your eyes as you again stretched to him

You then closed your eyes and snuggled into a couch pillow

Honenuki’s hand stretched across the couches and found itself on your head, giving gentle pets back and forth

Once he found himself a good stopping point, Honenuki put his bookmark in place and snapped the book closed

He gave a stretch and a yawn before encouraging you to your feet

You lazily tangled your arms around one of his and draped yourself over him

The two of you walked to your separate dorm rooms arm in arm, occasionally letting out more and more exasperated yawns and sleepy giggles

Monoma

Crying from pain

This was... probably your fault?

You remembered running into Awase from class 1-B while going a bit too fast though the halls

Next thing you knew you were in front of him, on your ass, staring up at him upside down

It took a minute for the pain to register, but as soon as it did tears stung your eyes

You couldn’t even really say anything as Awase’s eyes filled with panic when he’d realized what he’d done, quickly dropping your arm and stepping back, probably planning to make a run for it

The is until his blond classmate came up behind him, pressuring him to apologize in a loud, negging tone

When Awase again avoided your eyes, opting to shove his hands in his pockets as he glared at the wall, Monoma dropped to his knees and offered you assistance

The question of “Do you need to go to the nurse?” was accompanied with a handkerchief dabbed at your eyes

Monoma helped you to your feet, apologizing for his classmate, assuring you you were fine and didn’t need to report this to a teacher because you were clearly fine look at you you’re fine

I mean you weren’t bleeding so... Yeah? You were fine.

He sounded like he’d be the one in trouble if you told someone about Awase self defense flipping you over his shoulder

When he offered again to walk you to the nurse, you declined

He was right, you were fine, just a bit sore

You wiped the tears from your eyes and thanked him for his concern as you walked passed him

You also apologized to Awase for bumping into him, though he just huffed a response

You didn’t get very far when you heard quick steps following close behind

Monoma was just checking in to make sure you for sure weren’t going to tell anyone class 1-B’s Awase threw you like a rag doll

He also just figured while he was here he’d ask if there was anything he could do to make up for this incident

Like... buy you lunch sometime.... Or take you out to a nice cafe he knows after school... maybe...?

He just. Didn’t want you to think class B does hit and runs like this on all the pretty students

Mirio

Crying from laughing

Your sides hurt

You gripped onto yourself as you leaned onto Mirio, cackling harder than you had in a while

He was retelling some jokes he’d gone over with Sir Nighteye at his internship today, regaling you, Tamaki, and Nejire with perfect one-liners and horrid puns

You all were laughing far too hard for this late at night

Tears pricked your eyes as you slapped at Mirio’s leg, gasping for breath you begged for a time out

You have the most contagious laugh, Mirio was positive his jokes only ever landed because you laughed at them so easily

When you finally caught your breath you sat up, rubbing giggly tears from your eyes

You gave a glance around the room and found Tamaki doing the same, though his tears were from the yawn he’d just given

All three of you watched Tamaki adorably shifts as he rubbed the tired from his eyes, something he flushed over when he’d finally noticed the attention

Nejire declared that meant bedtime and hopped from her seated position, pulling Tamaki along with her

In a matter of moments she was dragging the tired boy out of the room to their own dorms

You and Mirio chuckled at her antics before you too got up to get going

Mirio offered to walk you to your dorm, which wasn’t far down the hall, but he made such a show of it how could you say no?

Of course he spent the whole walk telling even more terrible jokes that continued to crack you up

By the time you’d gotten to your dorm you were so giggly you couldn’t see straight

Mirio waved as he turned and walked the 5 feet back to his own room

He then turned around and waved again, claiming he already misses you

You giggled at him and returned to your own room

He loved your laugh.