#he’s not actually shorter than me I think we’re pretty much the same height but the overall sentiment stands

[0vercastgirl]

This is how I talk abt pete when I start getting a little too horny

[asm5129]

Flash thoughts 9x03

Okay, things are really heating up! (no pun intended, what with a heat-based meta appearing this week and all)

This was a really fun episode. I’m not personally invested in the Flash’s rogues but I know a lot of folks are, so i hope they’re enjoying this season cuz it’s going all in. This episode was delightfully comic-book-y. Great banter, fun camp, a little macgunffin-ish type thing, and a smidge of pathos to tie it all together.

was this the best episode? Nah. Not really any standout emotional moments or big reveals (i know there’s the ending, but we’ll get there) or anything, and it definitely doesn’t hit the heights of the previous episode's ethical core, but it was really fun, and it progressed the plot well along the way--so not a waste of time in my book. 

Hartley is delightfully smug, Goldface is campy fun as always, and Jago is a delight in his Regular Guy-ness--with the nuance of his son in the picture as well of course. (side note, the flirting between him and Fiddler was a lot of fun)

It was pretty clear Mark was heading down the path of teaming up with red death but i didn’t expect him to get there so quickly (damn you shorter episode count). Still, i think it works. 

Anyways the whole heist thing with Barry in a bit of a gray area was really fun. And yeah, while Barry has every right not to trust Goldface--or even Mark at this point--Hartley and Jago definitely didn’t deserve to be lumped in with them. Especially Jago, as he rightfully points out to Barry. It’s funny that these Rogues knew every one of them was going to try and steal it for themselves, but since they were all on the same page there they could kind of “trust” each other to be selfish. they knew exactly where each other stood. Barry would have tried to stop ALL of them, so they couldn’t couldn’t on him the same way.

Side note, I’m glad Barry’s “i have to give them a reason to trust me first” instinct wasn't to reveal his identity YET AGAIN. Probably only because half of them already knew it, but still--it was refreshing for him to try and figure some other way to get people to trust him. Plus the fact that the other two figured it out anyway was actually a lot more fun.

The Allegra and Chester thing has been going on for a while now, and while i didn’t love it in the beginning i have to say it’s grown on me. they’ve taken their time, had these two build up a rapport and a regular social life together outside star labs, and really leaned into the actor’s chemistry together. I’ve always been found it odd just how averse they are to dating when they both are pretty clearly on the same page there, so I’m happy we’re at least getting Alelgra’s side to that conflict finally. 

Khione continues to shine with her piercing insights. I really like her. 

WestAllen is still being written better than anything pre-s8 imo.

There’s not as much meat to this episode so i don’t have as much to say, so let’s finish off talking about the red Death developments.

So yeah, look, I knew it was Ryan Wilder months ago. It was announced officially i think. That wasn’t really a reveal. The question is, why? The next time teaser hints that Barry believes it’s current day Ryan corrupted by the Negative Speed Force, but Eric Wallace has hinted at something much deeper than that in interviews--so for the time being, I’m sticking to my theory that this is Armageddon Ryan, and we’ll see present day earth prime Ryan in the very near future--perhaps kidnapped by the Red Death so she could take her place and Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t be answering to two Ryans? I dunno. 

but MAN it feels good to see Javicia Leslie back in the Arrowverse one last time. A little bit of a missed opportunity to not have her say “I am justice” as opposed to “I am Vengeance” cuz i really liked that she was saying “justice will be served” last episode, but maybe’s she’s conflated the two? We’ll see. I’m very intrigued to see Javicia’s villainous turn. 

[foreverdolly]

Hi I have a request! Can it be something were Austin and the reader are at one of his events and she gets injured? Like maybe twists her ankle, I think it will be adorable!

oopsie daisy

word count: 2,487

warnings/notes: austin tries to protect you from journalists and paparazzi, he get's big time mad when one of them get's a little too close to you, you two being couple goals, this was super sweet and comfy for me to write.

masterlist | requests are open for business !

You looked hot as hell, but felt ridiculous. The bodice of the gown you were wearing was practically suffocating you, and it didn’t help that Austin’s stylist for the event had insisted that you wear heels so that the height difference between the two of you didn’t look too polarizing in pictures. You hadn’t minded the shoes too much at first, but that was then and this? This was now. You and Austin had been walking around the event for an entire hour, posing for pictures and speaking with interviewers. You had been with the actor for a while now, so this wasn’t your first rodeo. You didn’t hate events like this. . . you just didn’t particularly like them. Austin felt the exact same way about it. He couldn’t stand being the center of attention for too long; it made him feel a bit nervous. Tonight was certainly no different for the both of you. 

“I’m sure you’ve been getting this all night- but you look stunning, y/n.” The interviewer gestured towards you with the microphone, and you couldn’t help but smile. You sure as hell hoped you looked good. You felt like bambi tottering around in your heels. Austin tightened his arm around you ever so slightly, pulling you further into his side. He could tell by the look in your eyes that it was growing harder and harder for you to walk.

Austin had noticed your discomfort earlier on in the night, but just ten minutes ago had offered to find you a place to sit down for a few precious minutes when it became apparent that it was beginning to become unbearable. The two of you had been in the process of escaping the main room, just a few feet from the hallway, when an interviewer for E! Magazine had caught up to you both. “Why thank you. You’re looking pretty dapper yourself. I’m really liking the velvet tie.” You tried your hand at making some small talk, smiling nice and pretty for the camera. 

The journalist was quick to place his hand over his tie, almost as though he forgot that he was even wearing one. “Well thanks! You’re the first one to actually notice it’s textured.” He chuckled softly before turning to face the blonde at your side. “So fans are taking to social media, freaking out over your upcoming release. You had to grow your hair back out for the important role. You’ve had it so many different lengths and styles over the years. How long do you prefer to keep your hair?” Austin smiled down at you for a brief moment, knowing just how you felt about his long locks, before leaning in a little closer to the mic so that he could answer. “I like keeping my hair shorter than this,” He pointed to his head, biting his lip softly as you reached up, tucking a long strand behind his ear. “But this one doesn’t mind it,” he gave your side a squeeze, his smile widening as you chuckled softly. “ So I guess that’s all that matters. It sucks having to actually do something to it every single morning though. I don’t know how most girls have done this their whole lives. It doesn’t help that I’ve been blowing through my shampoo like crazy.” 

“Well before I let you two go, I just wanted to extend my congratulations along with everyone else’s over at E!. I saw the engagement photos that you two posted last week, and we’re all just so excited for you. Your love story is one of my favorites, so I’ve always made it a point to keep up with you both. That Open Door episode you two did with Architectural Digest three months ago? I watched it the second it was posted. I adore you two,” You and Austin’s smiles widened. “How’s the ‘fiance’ life been treating you two?” Austin’s cheeks, without fail, began to flush, the corners of his eyes scrunching up adorably as he grinned. This year's Grammy ceremony might as well have been one great big engagement party. You’d never been so fawned over or celebrated in your life. It never lost its shine though, and you could tell that this question in particular was Austin’s favorite one of the night to answer. “Oh it’s been amazing. I’m still pinching myself, just to make sure I’m not dreaming. You’d be surprised by how many times I’ve had to catch myself though- I’m so used to referring to y/n as my girlfriend.” He’d only done it a couple of times, and had been overly excited to correct himself. “Everyone’s been so genuinely happy to see us move on to that next stage in our lives. I can’t wait. I didn’t think that I’d be the type to get so excited over wedding planning, but it’s been really great.” The two of you were already throwing dates around, wanting to be able to get married as soon as both of your busy schedules allowed it. The two of you didn’t see the point in waiting any longer than you already had. You both didn’t need a huge, gaudy wedding. Hell, the two of you would have happily eloped if you didn’t think your friends and family might get their feelings hurt. 

“Were you nervous that she could possibly say no or. . . ?” Austin raised his brow at you, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. The corner of his lip tilted up into a smirk before he tore his eyes off of you, shaking his head. “Not at all. I know that’s probably going to make me sound so cocky, but no. We would have gotten married a week after we first met if we didn’t think that our families would have killed us. After two years of dating it just felt right. It wasn’t her potentially saying no that made me nervous, but the pressure of making it special.” Unbeknownst to you, him and his best friend, Ashley, had spent weeks planning the perfect proposal. His dad had been the one to drive up from Anaheim to help his son go ring shopping. Imagining the lanky man nervously going jewelry shop to jewelry shop, trying to find the one that would best suit your tastes, warmed your heart. Especially when his father texted you the day after he popped the question, saying that they had been out for hours looking at rings. 

After wrapping up with his latest project, Austin had planned a nice camping trip for the both of you. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him, and he had played it off as just wanting to decompress after so much stress. You thought absolutely nothing of it, so it had shocked you when he had pulled the ring out of his pocket. You had always joked around with him, saying that you wouldn’t be surprised when he finally proposed. The two of you, over the last few months of your relationship, brought up marriage daily. It had never been a “what if” kind of conversation, rather a “when”. You had been shocked though. And you had also cried, which had been majorly embarrassing for you, but had resulted in him tearing up a bit as well. 

“Thank you both so much.” The two of you nodded your thanks, Austin keeping his arm firmly planted on your waist. You attempted to take a step forward, but your sore ankle gave out. You didn’t have enough time to react, and so your foot twisted unnaturally to the side, pain instantly shooting through your entire leg.The room was far too loud to be able to hear anything, but you felt something pop. It took everything inside of you not to let out a small shriek in pain. Your eyes teared up though, and you were quick to bite onto your tongue, your grip on your fiance’s blazer tightening tenfold. Austin had felt your weight buckle and had reacted immediately. He kept his hold on you firm, his bicep tightening around you as he supported your weight with one arm. He was trying to not make it look obvious, and you couldn’t thank him enough. Your dress was long enough to completely hide the mishap as well, and you could only pray that the pain wasn’t too obvious on your face. Cameras were practically blinding the both of you as journalists relentlessly attempted to get pictures of the newly engaged couple. 

If you had actually fallen on a night like tonight? You would have never heard the end of it. You’d be the laughing stock of every celebrity gossip website on the internet. Most of Austin’s fans adored you, but there were some of them that would absolutely love to see you bust your ass at an event like this. With the initial public humiliation avoided, all you could focus on was your pain level. . . and it was intense. Had you broken it? You wouldn’t be surprised. The heels were so incredibly high, and you weren’t used to having to walk in something like this for such a long period of time. You looked up at him with wide eyes, and his face softened, his other arm moving to hold you against his chest in an attempt to hide your face. You could hear more cameras clicking behind you like crazy and see the flashing lights on the wall behind you. “Are you hurt?” He whispered nervously into your ear, rubbing your back up and down in soothing circles. You nodded softly, blinking back tears as you tried to put weight on your foot, wanting to see if there was any way you could walk your way out of there. “Oh god.” Austin muttered as he heard your soft cry. No. . . no, there was no way you were getting out of there without any help. Before you had time to ask for any kind of assistance, Austin was already bending down, keeping one hand on your waist, and the other one moving to the back of your knees. 

“Austin! Austin! Look this way for me!” “y/n! You look beautiful! Let’s see the ring!” “Adorable! Pose for us, please!” The photographers were eating it up like rabid animals, leaning forward as they all tried to get the perfect picture. Austin held you tight against his chest, carrying you through the room and out into the hall. The second that the cool air hit you, you felt like you could finally breathe. “Hospital? Do I need to take you to the hospital?” Austin was a visible mess now that there weren’t paparazzi to worry about. The panic in his voice made your eyes burn. “I don’t know. I felt something sort of pop, and I’m in a lot of pain. . . “ He was breathing hard as he carried you out the front doors, groaning softly as more photographers began to approach, flashing pictures. You buried your head into his neck, shielding your eyes from the blinding lights. “Are you leaving, Mr Butler?” You heard the valet manager ask from his spot at the podium. “Yes. Can you please grab it for me? Quickly?” Austin stood there impatiently, holding you against him as the cameras continued to flash. You could feel his heart pounding hard against his chest. 

“Hey, back up! You’re getting too close!” Austin snapped suddenly, tucking you even tighter against you and taking a step back. 

“Sorry, man. We just want to see the ring.” 

“Well you don’t have to press against her like that! I don’t like that, so don’t do it.” Austin shot back. You could hear the sound of a car engine approaching, and Austin was quick to push his way through the crowd the best that he could.

“I’m going to put you down so that I can open the door for you, alright?” You nodded, your nose brushing against his throat as he eased you down onto the sidewalk. Austin opened the door for you and then took a step back, moving to stand behind you in order to block any of the photographers violating attempts. They only continued to try and move around him, and with a sound of obvious annoyance, Austin boxed you in with both arms, using his body as a shield until you shut the door. He was in the driver's seat in a second, driving off before he even had his seatbelt buckled. “Am I driving home or to the hospital, baby?” You could see the pulse jumping in his neck, his blue eyes wide and frantic. He used his left hand to grip the wheel, his right moving out to find your own. He intertwined your fingers together, giving your palm a soft squeeze. “I’m so proud of you for holding it together during all of that. I’m just so sorry that this happened. . . I should have gotten you out of there sooner .” You used your free hand to dig through your purse, searching desperately for your phone. If you could see the damage, maybe then you’d be able to make a decision. If it was just a sprain then you two could head back home and just try to pretend like none of this ever happened. You turned the flashlight on, shining it on your foot. You tried to twist it from side to side to get a good look, and the second you did? You nearly fainted. Austin pulled up to a red light just in time to be able to see the damage as well. 

“Oh god,” You breathed, nearly dropping your phone. It was already beginning to swell, and it was very clearly not just twisted. 

“Hospital! Hospital! Alright. . . okay. . . that really just happened.” Austin practically screamed, dropping your hand to place both hands on the wheel. The cars behind him laid on their horns as he switched lanes last minute, speeding down the onramp. 

You had ended up breaking your fibula that night. The two of you had been ushered into a private room the second one of the nurses recognized who you both were, and you were thankful for the privacy. After the pain meds had kicked in, you actually felt like you could laugh over the ridiculous situation, what with the two of you sitting in the dingy Los Angeles hospital, both of you decked out in full blown formal-wear. Of course something like this would happen to you.

Austin had made sure to document the moment, snapping a few embarrassing photos of his own. Your personal favorite being a selfie of him, your ball gown-clad body looking ridiculous and small in the background, curled up on the hospital cot. 

The best part of the night? The Uber Eats he had ordered the second the both of you got home. 

That and the fact that Austin had insisted on signing your cast.

@bookklover23 @medleyj @idkwhattthisisss @dharnwjs @slutforsomegoodlettuce @crackerbarrelslut @macey234 @nightfiress @keepdrivingrr @melodydior @luvvrrrrr @mymamalife @wwebby657 @shynovelist @ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic @hangmanswhore @jyvnho @alqvarde @bcofl0ve @mslizziesblog @ggxsan @screaching-cookie @fantuhsise @areuirish @hxllvely @lelifesaver @milaa24 @meladollsims @poppet05 @shrekstheloml @randomwriter888 @idc123sworld @vane28282 @mirandastuckinthe80s @girlblogger2002 @rockerchick05

[3rensgf]

stupid/annoying, but endearing, things they do in a relationship eren, armin, jean, connie, erwin, levi, reiner, bertholdt, porco, zeke, colt, hanji, mikasa, sasha, annie, pieck

word count: 2.3k

warnings: one mention of sex in erens, reader uses makeup in jeans, mentions of injuries and dilf!reiner in reiners

notes: this is a gn!reader. there are mentions of makeup being used, but i feel like any gender can use makeup. it's not even anything serious like a beat face. just some lip gloss n mascara. chapstick too but thats not makeup. it's just one line, so you can skip over it if you would like to!

✩ eren bites you. its not even in a sexual way, he just likes to bite. they’re like a second form of kissing to him. you could be chilling together on the couch watching a movie, and he’ll just chomp on your shoulder. even when you were trying to focus on something, he swings by, bites then leaves. eren has no shame, so he does it in front of your friends too. you could be having a normal conversation with mikasa and he’ll just bite you, then the two of you carry on as if it was normal. it’s not normal. but you love it. sometimes you bite him back too. but only in private.

✩ armin gives you random things he finds. armin likes to go out and explore, with or without you. when he comes back after an adventure you opted out of, he always has something for you he found. a rock, a seashell or a cool flower are just some of the things he gets for you. if he can’t find something, he finds a gift shop to get you something instead, saying, “well, (y/n), i did find it in the gift shop.” he always looks so proud giving it to you, rambling about the story of how he found your gift. you have a small box tucked away with all the treasures he gives you.

✩ jean steals your things. whenever he comes over, he likes to mooch off your possessions. if he’s spending the night at your place and needs a shower, he’s using your shampoo, conditioner and body wash. if his lips are chapped, he swipes your lip balm to use on himself. one time you even walked in on him trying your mascara and lip gloss. another time he had your clothes on his giant frame. but he always replaces whatever he uses, venmoing you within the next few days with some cash and a sorry note. “sorry for using ur lip balm baby, buy some more <3” with $20 attached to it. you tell him that lip balm doesn’t even cost that much, but he tells you to treat yourself to lunch with the extra money.

✩ connie makes plans without letting you know beforehand. at 3am, you are woken up by an influx of messages and calls from your boyfriend. in your sleepy state you go to answer him, only to be told to get dressed and come out. he’s right outside of your house and hungry. you remind him it’s very early in the morning and you both have class. “but i’m hungry and craving burgers,” he repeats. you have no choice to get in the car with him. this can happen throughout the day, not just early in the morning. one time he whisked you away in the middle of your online class because he didn’t tell you he bought tickets to a movie showing in 30 minutes. the memories you share on these spontaneous dates are always your favorite ones with him.

✩ erwin buys you whatever you like in bulk. it’s not even an exaggeration when you say bulk. you mention one thing to him, and the next day there are boxes upon boxes sitting on your kitchen counter. “these oranges taste pretty good,” you mumble to yourself as you peel your 2nd one. erwins sharp ears hear this, and first thing in the morning he’s off to buy multiple bags of your supposed favorite oranges. it takes you days, sometimes weeks, to finish whatever he decided to buy you. you always tell him he doesn’t need to buy so much, but he never listens. though, you always appreciate how attentive he is to your likes and dislikes.

✩ levi cleans up for you and ruins your organization. it’s always a blessing when someone else decides to take on the burden of cleaning for you, and you thought you hit the jackpot with a boyfriend who loved to clean, clean, clean. but it could get annoying when you suddenly couldn’t find anything you placed anywhere. if you’re anything like me, you’re messy but organized. you know where things are. when levi comes to clean, he places things where he thinks they should go. you’re sent on a wild goose chase looking for your pencil case, only for it to be in a completely different drawer than the one you usually kept it in. despite this behavior, it’s always nice to come home from a long day from school to see your desk organized. what was once a mess of papers and other supplies have been filed into their correct places, the table wiped down from any lingering coffee stains and your supplies being organized in a way so you knew where everything was. sometimes there’d be a plate of fruit with the note, “good luck on your exams,” written in your boyfriends neat writing beside it.

✩ reiner coddles you too much. whenever you express any sort of discomfort, reiner is always rushing to your side. “are you hurt? do you need medical attention? how many fingers am i holding up?” he asks, checking you for any cuts or bruises. thank you, honey, but i’m fine. just bumped into the counter. despite that, he’s dragging you over to the bathroom to fix up your imaginary injuries. you always find it a bit much when you’re fine. it’s during the times where you’re actually hurt where you learn to appreciate it. he’s so gentle cleaning your cuts, kissing them softly once they’re dressed. you wonder if he’d be like that with your future children.

✩ bertholdt is too nervous around you. it’s been years since the two of you got together, and he still refuses to make eye contact with you. his hands get sweaty and shake when you attempt to hold his hand. he always stumbles over his words when speaking to you as he tries to find the right words to say. he even blushes when he introduces you to other people as his significant other! you remind bertholdt over and over again that he doesn’t need to be so shy around you. but you cant help but coo over him showing up for your date, flustered mess and thrusting flowers into your hand. “they reminded me of you,” he said quietly, refusing to meet your eyes. you giggle and press a kiss to his hot cheeks.

✩ porco is too cocky for his own good. he’s always parading around the house, boasting about his latest achievements. he beat colt in a video game colt was a supposed god in. he can throw a baseball farther than zeke. he can run faster than pieck. if he’s taller than you, he's always making fun of you for being shorter than him. if you’re taller, you’re not exempt from his wrath either. he’s boasting about how he’s perfect height to not hit his head on doorways. he never goes as far as to hurt your feelings, always knowing when to stop. though he has a big ego, he would let it crash and burn just to see you smile after beating him at smash bros. you laugh and taunt him, happy you beat him in one thing. he doesn’t mind, instead watching you with a soft smile on his lips and love in his eyes.

✩ zeke forces you to work out with him. and it’s not like in the afternoon to help you stretch out. it’s not light yoga or a couple minutes on the treadmill. no, this man wakes you up at ass crack in the morning to take you on a 5 mile hiking trip. you barely have any time to register what is happening around you before you’re already standing at the start of the trail with your gear. “come on! we can’t slack off!” he says, clapping his hands together. the sun is beating down on you and your feet hurt, but this man doesn’t let you stop for a break. “we’re almost there,” he says. your complaining goes out the window when he shows you the view at the top. its one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. hiking up long ass trails to see beautiful views with your boyfriend was so worth it in the end.

✩ colt accidentally turns your dates into babysitting sessions. you show up at his house with the promise of a good time, only to be met with a guilty looking colt and his little brother falco behind him. “sorry,” he says sheepishly, “gabi got sick with the cold, so i couldn’t drop him off there. i hope you don’t mind him staying.” you hide your disappointment behind a wide smile, nodding enthusiastically as to not hurt either of their feelings. you just wanted to spend some alone time with your boyfriend, and it would have to wait. hanging out with falco wasn’t actually that bad. the three of you had an amazing time together, watching tv, playing games and even baking together. if you hate kids, you can’t bring yourself to hate falco; he’s just the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. you and falco are already asking colt when the three of you can hang out again when you have to go back home.

✩ hanji is always talking. you don’t discourage them from talking about their interests. they’re very passionate about the things they love, and can’t help talking about them. its like the scene where hanji kept eren up all night talking about titans. when you’re trying to focus on something or go to sleep, hanji is just yapping away. you’re honestly amazed at their ability to never run out of things to say about the most mundane things. hell, one time they talked for an hour and a half about a building color they saw when they were out one day. but hanji just looked so happy when talking. their face would break out into a huge grin, and their arms would fly around as they told their story. it was too cute for you to tell them to stop.

✩ mikasa hovers too much. every corner you turn, every place you go to, mikasa is following. she claims she’s not clingy, but in reality she is. it’s like a cat who hates affection, but needs to be in the same room as you at all times. you don’t mind her following you into the bedroom or living room or kitchen. you had to draw a line when she tried to follow you into the bathroom. even when you’re out, she’s always following you around. you tell her it’s okay to break off from you and spend some time by herself, but she always shakes her head and follows you to your next destination. you’re always grateful for her hovering when a group of drunk people try hitting on you, whistling and telling you they’ll give you a good time. but one look at your girlfriend who showed up from out of nowhere, and they’re running away with their tails between their legs.

✩ sasha eats your food. she can’t help it. she likes to snack. she’s always hungry. and you get that. to stop things like this from happening, you have separate places to keep your food. just so sasha and you have your favorite snacks and takeout separated. you respect the rule, but your girlfriend seems to lose her reading skills when hungry, one too many times you have walked in on her with her hand deep into a bag of your chips, something you’ve been waiting to eat all week when you were supposed to watch that new horror movie on netflix with her. you huff and puff and retreat to your bedroom. sasha comes back after a few hours, looking upset with tons and tons of snacks in her arms. “i’m sorry i ate your chips,” she frowns. she sets down all the food she got on your bed. “i got all these snacks you liked as an apology. and 3 bags of your favorite chips.” you could never stay mad at her cute face.

✩ annie complains about spending time with you. “i like my alone time,” she says, brushing you off when you asked why she didn’t want to watch a movie with you. some people were introverted, preferring to spend time by themselves rather than with someone else. you were like that too; you had your moments where you didn’t feel like being around your girlfriend. but it became an annoying problem when she constantly shot down your attempts to hang out with you. when she finally agrees, she’s always finding something to complain about. but during important dates or when you’re not in the best mood, she’s always the first to remind you or initiate a hang out/date. she shuts her mouth and enjoys her time with you, not one criticism or groan leaving her lips. she would never admit it, but being around you made her so happy.

✩ pieck is always sleeping. you have to wait a few hours to get a text or call back from pieck because she’s always dozing off somewhere. “sorry sweets,” she yawns into the mic, “was taking a nap. need something?” good luck trying to reach your girlfriend during an emergency. when you come home with takeout for dinner because neither of you wanted to cook, she’s sleeping at the dinner table. when you’re watching a movie she wanted to watch, she’s snoring away, curled up at the end of the couch. during lectures you share together, she has her head in her arms and has the audacity to ask you for your notes in the end. and it’s not like she’s not getting enough sleep, no. she gets her recommended 8 hours of sleep and then some. it’s nice to have a sleepy girlfriend, though, when you’re dead tired from living. you drag your feet into the bedroom to see her about to take her nth nap for the day. she notices your zombie-like state and opens up her arms for you. the two of you cuddle and nap together, sleeping the stress away.

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3rensgf © 2021 ; do not repost or translate my work.

[jiye0ngs]

I love your writings, especially since you write Sucheon and Gangseok so well 🙏🏻 I hope I'm not bothering but I have a headcanons request: how'd Suman, Gangseok and Sucheon react when their s/o is known to be pretty weak but is actually incredibly powerful underneath?

Thank you so much! <3

oh, thank you so much! i’m glad to know that you like how gangseok and sucheon are in my stuff 🙇🙇

— Now he’s an interesting one. Taking into account his currently altruistic personality, I’d say Suman would be pleasantly surprised. The kind to lose their balance and have their breath stolen for a moment once he sees the full capability of their s/o. Might have underestimated them in the beginning (especially if it’s the sleazy ep. 101-104 (?) Suman we’re talking about here), so once he sees how truly powerful they are he wordlessly owns up to his past actions and regards them with the reverence and respect they deserve.

— The s/o is his pride and joy, he holds them to such a high praise. Especially if they’re affiliated with Baekdu, Suman knows he just has to stay in place at work and do his paperwork (and stay in place at home and do the chores) while their s/o kicks the asses of those who routinely underestimate them and Baekdu. An exhilarating feeling of love just goes down his spine when he watches them. This man is terribly smitten.

— He has to admit, it still takes him by surprise sometimes. Whenever he looks at his sweet and charming s/o (bonus if they’re physically smaller or more petite than him) it’s hard to digest the fact that they have such monstrous power within them. This doesn’t last too long, though: he’s blown away again and again when they blast enemies into bits and start making people cower in their presence.

— Is reassured knowing his s/o is incredibly tough, and greatly enjoys sparring with them or fighting an opponent together as equals. An absolute gentleman too, giving them the adequate refreshments and care they need right after.

— Somehow discovers it during sparring with them and it had never left his mind ever since. Huh, they’re that powerful? Sucheon would be in bed worrying his little head off about his crush or s/o. They didn’t even tell me? His little heart would be beating so fast. And they’re so good?

— Like his uncle, is still taken back when his cute and unsuspecting s/o goes out to wreck people’s shit up. Again, bonus if they’re physically smaller/shorter than Sucheon. He’s incredibly smitten for them: is too shy to admit it out loud but he loves watching them fight and get out their power in full display. It makes his heart flutter to unhealthy heights.

— Gets ticked off when someone makes undermining comments about his s/o - he knows for sure they can beat those jackasses to a pulp, but if he were a lesser man he would just jump those jerks right there and then. Morons should know their place. Tch.

— Proud and smug once he witnesses his s/o in a spar with someone else - a proud smirk that says ‘I Told You So, they’re someone not to be underestimated’ would be a smirk that he’d carry all day. He’d taunt those who’d called his s/o weak, a runt, or uncapable of fighting (etc.) back then – especially their past opponents. Walks past a bloodied enemy on the ground and nonchalantly says, “so much for a weak awakener, huh?” while wrapping his arms around his s/o’s shoulders.

— Incredibly overjoyed to have a strong s/o. He loves the way they can fight together, as equals on the same footing. He likes that he doesn’t have to hold back on them too, and that they don’t have to hold back for him.

— Despite the many comments and the reputation made of them, I don’t think Gangseok would ever truly think of his s/o as weak. Whether they’re weak or not, Gangseok appreciates any and all kinds of strength and only wants to focus on training to become stronger together.

— With that being said: he can’t help but smile when he sees them fight. He’s just really happy to be there and support them. In any spar that the s/o would be in, you bet that Choi Gangseok would 100% be spotted in the crowd, smiling and cheering them on.

[comfortwriting]

A Triwizard Baby Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist,Taglist

Part 1 Fred Weasley x Fem Reader mini series

Requested/About: Best friends, Y/N and Fred Weasley share a night of passion together during the Triwizard Tournament, after that, everything changes and Fred can’t figure out why until the night of the final task. Y/N has the world on her shoulders, and Fred slowly finds himself losing everyone around him. 

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

A/N: the ages/school year has been adjusted so everything is legal.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, intoxication, drunk and unprotected sex, losing virginity.

It all started when the more outspoken, confident twin crashed into you on the Hogwarts Express in your first year at Hogwarts. Sure, you were upset, embarrassed, and annoyed, but when you looked up and realised who had swept you off your feet, you knew it wasn’t your brain messing with you - from that moment you had fallen for him; Fred Weasley.

After your first train ride, classes, and many more along the way, over the years, you and Fred became best friends, going through thick and thin together, sharing the worlds loudest laughs, best pranks, and even the biggest tears. Your tiny crush on him blossomed into something much more, a love that couldn’t stop growing and spread out of control, but you were sure that Fred didn’t feel the same, and as you became older, reaching the end of your years in the education system, Fred discovered other girls and sex, whilst you drowned yourself in the life of parties and bottles of fire whiskey.

Fred loves the parties, he loves fire whiskey too, but he loves the other girls and the sex in a different way because they feed his ego, and it helped take his mind off you and the fact he didn’t have the guts to pursue you.

You were labelled as the party-girl which every girl wanted to be and wouldn’t challenge to a drinking game if their gold was on the table, and Fred gained the title as the play-boy, who made every lad jealous and watch in envy as he never got rejected and could flirt with any girl he wanted.

You had to hear the stories of your best friend fucking your classmates, and how much they loved it, praising him and gossiping about how skilled he was with his fingers, tongue, and cock. You were jealous, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn't invent your sex life to reach Fred’s rank - you had never had sex - you were a virgin through and through.

Sitting next to Fred on the edge of his bed in the hospital wing you shook your head, laughing at the state of him and his twin, George.

“I’ve got to say, you’ve got a magnificent beard.” You laughed, the sight of George being an old man funnier than you expected.

Fred smirked despite still being pissed off with George “I never knew you were into older men” he winked.

“Well, you never asked.”

George groaned out “get a bloody room, the pair of you!”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled Fred’s pillow from under his head, causing him to slump down, you bashed George with his pillow, sticking your tongue out at him and pulling a face.

“Y/N, don’t encourage them!” Madame Pomfrey hurried over, retrieving Fred’s pillow “Out! Out!” she shooed you.

Standing up and put your hands up in defence “Alright! I’m going!”

Fred’s smirk turned into a grin, “Watch the first task with us?” he asked.

You nodded “with pleasure, I heard Bill is going to be there.”

And you weren’t wrong, the first task came within the blink of an eye, you were honoured to meet Bill in passing - more like a “Hello!” with an awkward wave, followed by “Goodbye!” and another awkward wave, but the dragons fascinated you, and Fred spent the majority of the task watching you instead of the Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout, Chinese Fireball, and the Common Welsh Green. George had to keep reminding Fred that their money and future business was on the line.

During the celebration party as it got later in the evening, you and everyone else surrounded Harry, clapping and cheering as he lifted the golden egg infant of him, parading it around, all of you watching and waiting eagerly, encouraging him to open it in hopes that it could liven up the party - giving everyone an excuse to stay up late and continue drinking.

Fred and George lifted Harry up, propping his legs on either of their shoulders, their arms strapping him in so he was above the large and busy crowd.

“Knew you wouldn’t die, Harry.”

“Lose a leg.”

“Or an arm.”

“Pack it in altogether.”

“Never!”

Fred and George stopped heaving Harry into the air, Seamus begging for a clue, you stared at Fred, your eyes getting lost in the strands of his long golden hair, but you weren’t the only one - the girls behind you were fixating on him, whispering about his good looks and height.

You zoned out completely, the same jealousy and bitterness spreading through your veins, you had to talk to him, tell him you loved him, but how?

Harry opened the egg, bright light of gold broke out followed by loud screeching, breaking you out of your toxic train of thoughts, Fred and George dropping Harry and flinching like you and everyone else, covering your ears and begging Harry to shut it up.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron interrupted.

Fred huffed and shook his head “As if this party couldn’t get any worse.” he turned around and tried to flee to his dorm room, calling it a night and encouraging everyone to get to bed.

The two girls behind you who were salivating over Fred pushed past you and called him over, blushing and batting their eyelashes at him.

“We’re throwing a party of our own” she eyed him up as if he was something to eat “tonight doesn’t have to end on a downer.”

Her plan worked, instantly gaining Fred’s attention, he grinned and nodded “Wicked, can I bring someone along?”

“George is already invited” her friend replied, smirking at George.

“Can I bring someone else too, though?” Fred asked.

The girls exchanged looks with one another cautiously, but they didn’t want to let him down or uninterested him, “Of course! Who?”

Probably his friend Lee or some girl he’s fucking.

“Y/N!” Fred called out, smiling at you “You want to join this party with me?”

The girls glared at one another, muttering and swearing under their breaths to one another.

This is your moment, Y/N, don’t mess this up, shoot your shot.

“Yeah!” You smiled back, feeling honoured and slightly shocked “Yeah, sure!”

Once everyone had cleared off, you and your new group sneaked out of the common room and into Moaning Myrtle's territory, all the professors were either partying or fast asleep, even Mr Filch and Mrs Norris grudgingly had the night off.

The dark and grubby bathroom spun around whilst you got onto your knees, the cold tile floor making you shudder when coming into contact with your warm legs. The two girls smirked and sat down too, the shorter one pulling Fred to sit down next to her, her hand continuously placing itself on his knee, ticking you off.

“Well, since Y/N decided to drink her feelings, we’ve got an empty bottle and we could do with a game to lighten up the mood.” The shorter girl spoke out, causing Fred to give her a dirty look for calling you out.

“What is it then?” George asked “Pretty shit place for a party.”

“Careful” you hiccoughed “Don’t want to make Mrytle cry.”

“We’ve decided truth or dare, but with spinning the bottle. Whoever it lands on has to answer a truth, or accept a dare from the spinner.”

You rolled your eyes “Seems very... tween like of you.”

Fred laughed.

“You weren’t invited, so feel free to leave if this party isn’t good enough for you.”

You ignored her and played along anyway.

“George” she squealed “Truth or dare?”

George hesitated for a moment “Truth”

“Does Fred keep you up at night with all the girls he brings back?”

After what felt like an eternity, the bottle finally landed back and George, and he spun the bottle, causing it to land on you.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

I swear if you ask me anything stupid -

“D-dare.” you hiccoughed again, trying to act bigger than your boots.

George stared at the two desperate girls and looked back at you “I dare you to snog my brother.”

Okay, I really wish I went for truth, what was I thinking? Bloody hell!

“Okay then” you replied nervously, crawling in the middle of the circle, Fred crawling over to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Fred’s warm, large, gentle hands cupped your face, leaning in, his lips pressed against yours shocking both of you as if a spark had ignited, whilst you kissed back, your hands tangled in his long golden hair and the two of you were suddenly hit with the realisation of how in love with one another you actually were.

More students had caught wind of the lame party and livened it up, playing music and brightening the bathroom up with colourful moving lights, bringing more fire whiskey and encouraging everyone to dance.

Everyone around you watched as you and Fred continued to snog, his tongue dancing with yours, his cock starting to support a semi, everyone cheered aside from the two girls who felt as if they had shot themselves in the foot.

“Okay!” the girl called out again, trying to pull Fred away “Times up!”

but he didn’t want to stop, and neither did you, the memories you shared playing out in front of you.

“I’m sorry for crashing into you” he frowned, sitting next to you on the train “is your head alright? I can try and make the bruising go away.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, you chuckled and shook your head “It’s okay but thank you for offering” you smiled.

His twin brother entered the carriage, “Fred-” he stared at you “what’s happened to you?”

“I wish you were coming with us” Fred sighed, grumbling to himself.

“Oh don’t be silly, you’re going on holiday!” you beamed “just make sure you take plenty of pictures, I’ve heard Egypt is lovely!”

“I’ll write to you and I’ll send the photos through the owl post if I’ve got enough time.”

“We’re supposed to be studying for our O.W.Ls!” you hissed at Fred, hiding your answers from him as he continued to make your stationary levitate and drop onto your head.

“Please take part in this prank, Y/N” he begged “I promise I won’t ask for anything ever again.”

“But you always do, Freddie!”

He stared at you, pouting and making puppy eyes.

“Fine” you sighed, giving in “Let’s go and do it then.”

Fred punched the air and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you away from your desk, the two of you smirking and giggling with excitement.

“I didn’t realise it would be this cold” you shivered, standing outside of Honey Dukes, snow falling from the sky and sticking to the pavement.

Fred pulled off his knitted jumper “Put this on love, don’t want you freezing now do we?”

The memories snapped away as Fred fell back, his arm in the girl's hand, you were desperate for more and opened your eyes, frowning that he had been dragged away for a dance with her, you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands rested on her waist.

Getting off your now red cold knees and standing up, you downed some more fire whiskey from the first bottle you laid eyes on and decided to copy Fred - dancing with anyone who wanted you - grinding against them, having them hold you close and breathing down your neck, you had to admit, for someone who had never done this before, you were doing a pretty good job, almost as if you had done it before.

Fred couldn’t get you, the kiss, the feeling of your lips, tongue, and the replay of memories out of his head. Breaking away from the girl, he approached you as you pulled away from the tall Hufflepuff lad, finally reuniting with the love of your life. Almost instantly, Fred’s lips collided with yours, your hands back to being tangled in his hair and his hand squeezing your behind teasingly, alcohol on your breath and his.

“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”

“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.

After what seemed like a marathon, you finally burst into Fred’s empty dorm room, he shut the door behind him and locked it before kissing you passionately, lowering you onto the bed and taking your clothes off.

This was it, the moment you were craving for years on end, this was it, this was how you would be losing your virginity, this would be giving yourself to your best friend entirely.

But Fred had no idea that it was your first time, in his head, you were having just as much sex as him.

Fred couldn’t get over the sight of your naked body, your breasts, your tummy, your bum, your inner thighs, your exquisite crotch - you were the definition of perfect, he had forgotten about every girl he had ever seen naked at the sight of you, you were making him feel as if this was his first time all over again.

Fred sucked on your nipples whilst he stimulated your clit with his fingers, warming you up, the sensation of his warm tongue and mouth sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, and as nervous as you were, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he played with your touch starved clit.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”

Fred’s head, like yours, was also spinning. He stumbled and reached for the lube, applying it onto his length and then across your tight hole. Fred felt as if he had forgotten something, but the more he wracked his own brain, the more he couldn’t remember what he needed. He laid you on your back and climbed on top, lining himself against your entrance.

Looking at you one last time to make sure, you nodded, and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, stretching you out as your walls tightened around you. You winced as you experienced an entirely new feeling, Fred slowed down and stayed still inside of you so you could adjust to his size when you were ready to continue, Fred started to trust himself inside and out of you gently, holding your hand and kissing your head as you started to feel incredible pleasure, your soft moans spilling from your lips.

Fred couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky, he was fucking - no - he wasn’t - he was making love to the most perfect girl in the world, someone he actually cared deeply for and had feelings for, you weren't a stranger, you were special, you weren’t temporary, you were soothing his aching heart - your absence was the cause, and your love - the medicine.

You watched as Fred’s hard cock slid inside and out of you, you admired his perfect body, the way he moaned and expressed the pleasure he was feeling through his facial expressions, you gripped onto his hand tighter as he picked up his speed and throbbed inside of you, you didn’t want this to end, you wanted to live inside this moment forever.

“My- My tummy feels tight” you panted, not knowing what was happening.

“Cum for me, Y/N.” Fred panted too “Don’t hold back.”

Oh, so that’s what that feeling means?

The pressure built up until it burst, you felt yourself explode as the pleasure became more intense, you relaxed and released, creaming down Fred’s length, your walls strangling him.

“Fuck!” Fred panted, the beads of sweat spreading across his forehead and back “I’m cumming baby!”

Baby.

“Y/N!”

Fred released his sperm deep inside of you without realising he didn’t have a condom on, you didn’t know whether he had put one on or not either, you didn’t know to ask or mention it, you were on birth control up until last week, you had to come off it due to the side effects and stress you under as your N.E.W.Ts approached.

Fred slowly pulled out and collapsed in your arms, the two of you holding one another, your eyes too heavy to stay open.

As you drifted off to sleep, your life was about to change forever.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello!! i've made a request before but this idea came in my brain and i heard your requests were open. So ive seen a lot of fics of the brothers saving mc, but what about mc kinda of saving the brothers, i mean like badass sword fighting style. Just like a stereotypical disney prince saves a princess mc kinda saves the brothers from getting killed by a lesser demon with a sword and just being badass (and sword) and the bros find it hot (weak humans? never heard of them)

*spongebob narrator voice* 400 years lat’er..... So sorry this took so long! I genuinely don’t know why I couldn’t get it done. When I actually tried, I got it done in like 2 days. My only excuse is that I’m a horrible trash munny >.<

Obey me Boys + Power Princess MC

Lucifer

It offends him that this creature, this being not fit to lick the soles of his boots, would raise their hand to him. The attack was not even what upset him, but just the gall. The utter stupidity of this decision to throw one’s life away. The fact that they had attacked with you around only made him wish to end that pathetic life that much sooner.

“Step back [Y/N]. I’ll deal with this quic—” Lucifer cut himself off when you rushed forward. A bright shining sword in your hand as you lunged. Slashing through the demon, who wailed and instantly turned to dust & ash. “What on Earth was that?”

“Oh. It’s my sword.” You reply nonchalantly. Turning around to show it to him. “It’s a holy arc sword, or something. I can summon it from my bracelet whenever I need it. Cool to know it actually works in a pinch.”

“And where did you get such a magical artifact?” Lucifer asked. Perplexed beyond reason, but trying not to show it.

“Lord Diavolo gave it to me when I first got here.” The demon arched a brow. Lord Diavolo? “It would be really irresponsible of him to just let a human wander around hell without some kind of weapon.”

He paused for a moment. Trying to piece all of what you had just said together. Then he just chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it would be.” And here he thought that he had been the only one protecting you. When all along you could do it yourself.

His hand reached out to pat your head fondly. His breast swelling with pride. “I’ll have to thank him for giving you such a thoughtful, practical gift. We’ll also have to add sword play to your lesson plans. I’d be more than happy to be your tutor.

Mammon

‘Shit!’ Mammon mentally cursed as he was hit again.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been rough up outside a club. Given his lifestyle, and his gambling track record, he’d been pummeled by a few bouncers in his life. With his immense power, he could easily take them; if he tried. But then he would be banned from the club, and ever other, and that was something he couldn’t handle over the humiliation of being beat up by these clowns. He needed this. It was all he had.

So, he took his beatings from lesser demons when they came around. He’d only wished they’d picked a different night to get their ‘payment’ back since you were supposed to be here soon.

“Come on guys. Don’t ya think you’ve had enough?”

“We’ll tell you when we’ve had enough!” One demon sneered at him, before kicking a man while he was down. Classy. “You owe us. And we’re gonna get back every cent you owe out of your hide!”

The demon reared his foot back to kick him again, and Mammon mentally sighed. Preparing himself for the kick and really being over this since it began. But….no kick came.

The demon let out a loud grunt over the sound of a metal ‘wack’ before the two, even lesser goons beside him suffer the same fate and they all slump to the ground. “Mammon! Are you ok?!”

The silver haired demon looked up at you in shock. The light from the street lamp causing a halo to form around you, highlighting your worried face as you brandished a rusty pipe like some great sword. “Yeah…I’m fine….”

“You don’t look fine! You’re all beat up!” He just sat there as you dropped the pipe and dropped down to him. Fretting over him as you looked him over. He couldn’t hear what you were saying over the beating sound of his heart in his ears.

No one had ever tried to help him before.

Mammon lifted his arms and wrapped them around you. “Mammon? What—“Let’s get out of here.” He interrupted as he hugged you. Standing up, and helping you to your feet, after a moment to walk out of the alley. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I wanna go somewhere with you.”

“But….I thought you wanted to go out tonight. Play cards. You said you were feeling lucky?”

He couldn’t tell if that was a jab or not, but replied, “well clearly I was wrong.” Though despite his bumps and bruises, he did still feel pretty lucky right not. “I just want to get out of here. I don’t need this anymore.” You both decide to head home to help Mammon nurse his wounds. He never went back to that club, or really any club, after that night.

Levi

“Levi….I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Nonsense!” Levi quipped in response to your perfectly reasonable, concerned feelings. “It’s just a little further. Besides, I want to see Henry 1! I’ve missed him a ton recently, and want to make sure he remembers me.” It had broken his heart to discover his poor, lost serpent had been down here, all alone, this whole time. So he made an effort to see him every now and then.

“Yeah but…isn’t this still like super-secret for Lord Diavolo’s family and stuff? What if there’s like booby traps and stuff?”

“Come on! There weren’t any booby traps or anything before. Why would he when he has Henry to keep it…..” Levi trailed off as both of you were ingulfed by a long, dark shadow. A low hissing sound growing louder as a gold, stripped serpent towered over you with a menacing glare. “That’s not Henry.”

The snake hissed loudly with bared fangs and an open mouth, and you both scream and run to get away from it.

The serpent of course chased you. Easily able to keep up, and only loosing you when the two of you duck into a narrow corridor. Levi turned around to say something to you, but you were gone. His immediate thought was that the stranger snake had gotten you, and it was all his fault, and he would never see you again!

When he came to the end of the corridor, walking out like a man on death row instead of running, he looked up to see the snake in front of him. Clearly angered by having to chase him. Levi didn’t care. He wanted to die if anything happened to you. He’d rather die than live one moment without you.

Prepared to accept his fate, the demon didn’t move when the snake unhinged his jaw to eat him in one gulp. Only for a sharp spike to thrust out from his mouth a moment later. A strange, hissing gasp escaping it before it slumped down in a lifeless heap on the floor. “[Y/N]!”

“Jesus! Not to put too fine a pin on it, but this place is literally a maze. One minute I’m next to you, and the next I’m in some armory on the other side of the hall 50 feet away. Are you alright Levi?”

The demon scrambled up the snake corpse to stand next to you and wrapped his arms tight around your being. “[Y/N]! I was so scared! I thought this Henry imposter got you, and you were dead, and I couldn’t think of anything!”

“I’m really ok Levi.” You assure him, as he wept into your shoulder. “Do you still want to see the real Henry? I think I spotted where he actually is when I was running back with the spear?” Levi nodded into your shoulder. Still not prepared to let you go.

Satan

Satan always tried to be a reasonable man.

He hated being referred to as ‘The Demon of Wrath’. It wasn’t his wrath that had caused him to be born. And he wasn’t any angrier than his brothers, so why did he have to be labeled the ‘bad seed’? So he always tried to be level headed. Calm. Patient. But there were somethings he just could not abide. Like the boorish behavior of someone talking loudly in the library.

“Excuse me,” the blonde said, attempting to remain calm, as he came over to the rude demon two tables over, “could you please keep it down? This is a library.”

“Yeah. I know what it is.” He quipped back rather snippily. “What are you? The librarian?”

“No. Just a fellow book lover.” Satan replied. Grinding his teeth now. “And one who can follow the rules and basic social decorum of keeping my conversations to myself in a place like this.”

“Are you calling me stupid?!”

“No. I’m calling you uncouth. A word meaning undignified, and without manners.”

“Why you!”

The demon rose to his feet, towering over Satan now that he was standing. Not that it mattered. Height was not an immediate representation of strength. Look at Belphie. His younger, shorter brother could level a whole city with a flick of his wrist. Satan could easily dispatch of his imbecile without even breaking a sweat.

He never got the chance though, as just after he stood the demon let out a grunt and slumped to the floor; with you standing behind him on his depleted chair with a book in your hand like you had just pulled it from The Stone. “Bet you’re glad I think Kindles are dumb now.”

Satan had to right himself on what he was seeing, and then frowned at you. “I never said that, and get down.” He insisted. Offering you his hand to get down. You hop down with ease and set your weapon book on the table. “Honestly, I could have handled him without resorting to violence or cheap theatrics.”

“Cheap?? This book was very expensive.” You insist, and Satan had to scoff.

“Be that as it may, please do not use books for more than their intended purpose. I appreciate the assist, but I can’t have you hurting yourself or fine literature in the future.”

“You’re such a buzz kill sometimes Satan…..”

Asmo

Asmo always loved going to the club. The dancing. The energy. The pulsing music. The people.

Well…usually the people. Some people, usually bro-dude demons, just couldn’t take a hint that ‘no’ meant ‘no’.

“Come on Asmo! Why are you being so stingy?!”

“I’m not being ‘stingy’,” Asmo replied with a frown marring his beautiful face. “I’m just not interested.”

“You were interested last time.” His pursuer replied. Like that somehow gave automatic permission that things would happen again.

“That was a long time ago.” The dusk haired blonde replied. Sipping his cocktail and looking thoughtful across the spacious VIP lounge over to you.

Yes, things had certainly changed. Once where it would take a whole room of people and attention to make him content, these days all he wanted was you. Just you sparing a moment to look at him made his heart feel incredibly full. He had come here to have a fun night out with you, but it seemed no matter where he went his beauty was always causing problems.

The lesser demon frowned, then looked towards the direction Asmo was looking to land on you. “Shoot, just bring them along with us.”

“Excuse me?” Asmo asked. Beautiful expression turning Ignatius as he sat down his drink.

“Bring them along. I’ve never had sex with a human. But there must be something to it if you’re willing to do them. Not that I suppose that takes much….”

At that, Asmo leapt from his chair and grabbing the brute by the collar. He wasn’t normally one for violence. He wasn’t like his dull brothers. But he couldn’t let a slight like that against you slide. “Take it back!”

The two demon’s scuffle. Clearing out the VIP lounge as everyone ran. Scared that they might transform at any moment and literally tear each other apart. Asmo somehow ended up on his back, a position that usually didn’t bother him, as the other reared back to punch him in the face.

Or, at least he would have if he didn’t start convulsing and fall on the ground a moment later.

“Asmo! Are you ok?!”

The Lust Demon looked at you for a moment. Then delicately covered his mouth with both hands. Returning to normal. “[Y/N]! You saved me!!”

“Yeah. This little thing packs a punch.” You replied. Holding out your little pink taser from She-Sword from your clutch. “I couldn’t let this jerk hurt your beautiful face.”

“No one is more beautiful than you my fierce warrior queen!” He praised. Basking in the moment for only a second before you both scamper off before security came.

You both might be beautiful, but you didn’t want to end up on the evening news.

Beel

“I want to take up kendo.” Beel announced to you one day. Out of the blue. “I’ve been looking for ways to add variety to my workout. I came across this video on kendo and thought it would be fun.”

Of course, Beel knew you had practiced kendo in the past at school. So he might have also been looking for fitness activities for you to do together. In any case, he really liked seeing you in your little workout outfit. It was super cute.

He also liked you showing him the basics of kendo; stance, footing, basic strike movement. When he felt he had gotten the hang of it, Beel jovially asked for a sparring match with you.

“I don’t know….”

“Come on [Y/N], sparring with someone is the best way to learn fighting.” He reasoned. “Besides, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about that….” He heard you mutter under your breath, but thought that he must have imagined it as you squared off.

Standing across from you in the arena, something changed. The hair on the back of Beel’s neck stood up. Not in the excited way that it normally did when he saw you. But something more….primal. His grip tightened a little more as he realized he might have to get a little serious with you.

It was all for nothing though as the match was over just as soon as it started.

The shinai went flying out of his hands, landing across the room just as Beel landed on his butt. His backside throbbing as his bell was rung clear as day. He rubbed his head as he looked up at you. “I may have forgotten to mention that I was three-time national kendo champ all through school.”

The demon looked up at you with a shiny, sparkly gaze only until now reserved for delicious food. “Teach me sensei!”

Belphie

He hated being out. He wanted to go home.

Being outside in the sun, with all these…..people was hell to him. Belphie would rather be home, in actual hell, with his blanket and pillow and quiet, rather than ‘top side’ with you for the whole afternoon. Not that it was you or anything. You were the only bright star on this miserable day. He’d be damned if he’d let one of his brothers spend the day with you when he could.

“Belphie, do you want an ice cream? Maybe that will help with the heat?”

He wanted to say that the only thing that would help him was getting the hell out of here. But, he bit his tongue. The demon knew how important this was to you to come ‘home’ now & then and he didn’t want to ruin it for you. So he just nodded and asked, “strawberry please.”

He sat in the shade as he watched you go over to the ice cream truck alone. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he was just a hopeless shut in. Like Levi, only worse. He just wanted humans so much that being around them was making him crankier than normal today.

“Geez, get a look at that side show over there.”

Belphie looked up from his daze at the human who was a few yards away from him. Snickering and staring with his friends in a voice that a regular human wouldn’t be able to hear. “If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck.” Again, he was very cranky.

The human was obviously taken aback at being heard and then called out like that. “What did you say to me?!” He yelled, once he got his bearings on the situation, and took a ‘threatening’ step forward to see if he would repeat it.

“I said ‘If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck’.” Of course he repeated it. “Don’t mutter something under your breath like a coward. Say it like a man, or keep your gross mouth shut.” This was why he hated humans. No spine.

Well, metaphorical spine. If he kept this up, Belphie was gonna prove that he had a spine when he ripped it out and made him wear it as a neck tie.

“You little fuck--!” Belphie, of course, didn’t move when he stomped closer. Not that he needed to, because he was stopped in his tracks rather abruptly when you stepped between then. Holding a knife from your pocket.

“I suggest you get out of here, before the only ‘side show’ around here is your knife swallowing act pal.” The man seemed to frozen for a moment as he tried to process if you were serious. Then his flight instincts kicked in and he took off running with his friends across the park. “Gosh, I think I’ve been spending to much time with you guys. I never would have done anything like this before.” You said after a sigh, then turned back to Belphie.

“My hero.” He cheered softly, in his typical tired voice but still with a soft smile. Seeming extremely proud of the bad influence he was on you.

[house-of-no-regrets]

No Regrets [in the wee hours]

Took a bit longer than expected, but I’ve finished the next little story! Hopefully I’ll be able to keep a decent pace on these. No overarching plot, just little stories in the same universe with the same characters. Warning for ~*murder*~ in this one!

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

I've been all-too-easy to wake up since I was a child; I'd often needed to go from dead asleep to functional, if groggy, as soon as I heard my father demanding action or attention. While I no longer need that reaction time, the old man long since locked up to rot, my brain is set in its ways and very convinced that I need to be able to bolt out of bed and fight God if a dust bunny moves too quickly in my vicinity.

Which is how I found myself waking up in the middle of the night, the sudden shift in the atmosphere bringing on consciousness with all the subtlety of a foghorn.

My room was silent, still, but I knew without opening my eyes that there was a spirit somewhere, and I didn't even give them a chance to speak before I pointed at the sign posted on my wall, barely shifting from my comfortable snuggle in my blanket and not even opening my eyes. Yes, this happens more often than I care to admit. No, I do not enjoy it. At all.

"Resurrection hours are noon to eight. I'm still alive and still need sleep to function."

There was silence, but the presence didn't leave, so I groaned and raised my head, finally opening my eyes to see the translucent, vaguely glowing, and unfortunately blurry spirit at the foot of my bed.

It did finally speak in a bewildered voice.

"Um, I'm being murdered."

Ah, fuck.

I grabbed my glasses from the bedside table and put them on. The spirit at the foot of my bed was tallish -- I've always been bad at estimating height, maybe half a foot shorter than Yvette? Five-nine... ish? -- and seemed to be in his twenties. There was a considerable dark stain on his chest and belly; likely blood, and the cause of his death. The newly-dead tend to show things like that, as they haven't had the time to get used to modifying their form.

I really hate it when brand new ones find me. I'm not sure how it started, but it seems like more and more often, now, the dead are drawn to No Regrets before they even realize they're dead, at least if they're the type to need my help. Wish I wasn't the one who had to break it to him. I'm not great with people.

"Sorry, bro, but I'm afraid they succeeded. Where was it? I'll get the police over there."

"Uhh... my house. I think. It's a little..."

I sighed. Right.

"You're probably a little out of it still... fresh dead usually are. C'mon, I'll take you around until things look familiar."

Climbing out of bed, I headed over to grab my hoodie from the back of the chair. I learned the hard way that sleeping is not a tits out sort of occasion when you're liable to get the dead dropping in at all hours of the night, so I sleep in pajama pants and a tank top. Little too chilly for tank tops outside, though. I shoved my phone in my hoodie and my feet into loafers, then started heading out of my room and down the hall.

"You remember your name?" I asked, trying to make conversation and learn what I could.

"Uh, Davis. Craig? Craig Davis."

"Well, Craig Davis, I'm sorry to hear about your passing. You're gonna need to possess me for this little adventure, by the way, but I'll walk you through it once we're outside."

"I- what?"

Considering how often I find myself lost in normal conversations, dealing with confused new spirits is especially difficult. Still shaking off my body's angry demands for More Sleep was not helping matters in the slightest, either.

"Possession. I'll explain it in just a minute." I rubbed an eye and yawned as I stopped in the foyer to pull a set of keys off one of the hooks on the wall.

Usually, I've got a driver. Not for vanity reasons, but after three or four near-misses caused by Sudden Spirits appearing in the car with me, I elected to hire someone to drive me into and around town as needed. But it was Fuck-This-Shit O'Clock in the morning, and Graves deserved their rest. The dead don't need to sleep, but they can if they so choose -- and it does, after all, conserve energy. The same goes for Yvette and Ashby; it was too early in the morning for most people to be out and searching for a necromancer to kill, so I wasn't gonna disturb them. I could handle a simple spirit chauffeur and 911 call on my own.

The keys were to the motor scooter; it was the better choice in this situation, allowing for more mobility and no passenger seat for any extra ghosts to drop into. That did, though, mean that Craig would need to ride shotgun in my body.

When I got out to the green scooter in the driveway, I paused and looked over at Craig.

"Hey, I know you're probably still a little out of it, so Possession 101." Script time. At least having this stuff memorized made it easier to do while dozy. "Our bodies need to take up the same space, so c'mere." I beckoned Craig over.

"So like… step into you?" He asked. Good, seemed like his head was clearing up some.

"Yeah, that's part 1."

He nodded and complied, crossing the space between us and settling in the same location, the two of us clipped into each other like bugged NPCs. It always felt so weird, those moments before a spirit actually possesses you. A sort of wobbly, in-and-out feeling like physics is trying to crush you and the spirit together, or, failing that, just kick your ass to the ground so you're not both in the same place at the same time.

"A'ight, now turn around and face the direction I’m facing, and overlay your hands onto mine as best you can." It was just a moment for him to obey, and I continued. "I'm not resisting, so you're gonna start feeling like you're being pulled in and pushed out at the same time. Space is trying to equalize. Let yourself be pulled in. It's gonna feel a bit like-"

The whirlpool effect kicked in before I could finish, the sudden snap and release of tension as Craig's spirit sank into my body. I wobbled a bit and grabbed the handlebar in front of me, then shivered at the sudden chill and dizziness. I'm pretty good at taking on passengers like this, but that didn't make it any more pleasant.

"You in there, buddy?" I asked out loud. Especially with new spirits, trying to think at each other was more trouble than it was worth. My lips moved to answer, though it wasn't my voice coming out.

"Uh- yeah. Yeah I'm here."

I grabbed the helmet hanging on the other handlebar and snapped it on, kicking the stand up and plopping heavily onto the seat.

"Great. Let's go."

"Wait, why am I not in control?" came Craig's confused voice. He felt almost frustrated, an undercurrent of emotion that wasn't mine despite being in my mind and body.

"Because this is my body, and I let you in willingly. Easier to keep control when you're letting someone in. Plus," I gave a little snort. "You just died, dude. I've been letting spirits possess me since middle school."

I felt his frustration turn to grumpiness, and then the pressure in my head, like a storm rolling in, that I knew from experience was him trying to take control. I froze and let out an irritated huff.

"You stop that. I'm not dealing with you doing some dumb shit with my body. Either chill out or get out."

"Oh- uh. Just wanted to see if I could…"

"Uh-huh. Anyhow, now that you're together enough to try joyriding, do you remember much about where you were before you were killed?"

I started up the scooter as emotions rolled through my mind, detached and distant, almost like the muffled dissociation I was used to mid-shutdown. Possessing spirits' emotions always felt weird like that, both mine and not mine, held at arm's length. Craig's was especially turbulent for a new death, but given that he had been murdered… I didn't fault him for being a little confused and angry. Even if it did put me a little on edge. 

"Uh- South Pine Street, Dogwood Acres housing development."

"Baller. That's not far from here. Once we get close to your body, you should be able to feel where it is, so I'll have a house number for the police. Don't want to have them scream in all blue lights and loud sirens and have your killer go to ground before they know which house, y'know?"

The muffled flare of anger that I felt was definitely not my own. I took a deep breath, hoped that the killer had panicked and tried to clean up instead of get rid of the body first, and puttered off towards Dogwood.

The housing development was quiet, lines upon lines of identical suburban boxes lit by flickering street lights that cast the sidewalks and yards in harsh white light. The occasional house had the glow of yellow within, but most of them were dormant. Weaving my way through the maze of streets, each one absolutely indistinguishable from the one before and the one to come, I felt terribly exposed -- and alone despite the spirit currently hitching along in my body.

I turned onto South Pine and brought my scooter to a puttering stop, stabilizing it with both feet on the ground. I couldn't help but bounce my legs to replace the vibration of driving; the sudden lack of sensation would ratchet my anxiety up even if I wasn't currently letting a frustrated dead man hang out in my head to catch his murderer.

...I should be more than a little anxious, really, but half-asleep Tabby once again wrote a check that more-awake Tabby is having to cash, and more-awake Tabby is very used to having to deal with the consequences of her idiot decisions. It occurred to me that normal peoples' consequences didn't usually involve murder, but when you live with the dead, you're bound to meet a few killers.

Two houses down, I could feel- not a tug so much as a presence, an echo of Craig's spirit reacting to his body. It was the only one on the street with its lights on and its garage, while not lit, was open. There was a car in the garage, another in the driveway, and a pickup at the curb in front.

"258?" I asked Craig, though I knew the answer already. His anger flared and I felt the oncoming storm again. I snapped at him. "That's two strikes, Craig. I'm sorry for your death, but if you end up driving my body into a crime scene or, god forbid, getting me killed next, I will kick your ass to whatever afterlife you're headed for and stay there to keep kicking it for eternity."

Big words for a short fat lady, but this is, in fact, my body on the line right now. I probably wouldn't be able to follow through on any ass-kicking, but dammit, I would try.

Craig was silent, and I could feel him steaming, petulant like a child denied a toy but with the power of a grown man behind it. With my stomach tying itself in knots and my hands starting to tremble, I dialed 911, hoping it would help quell the rising panic.

"258 South Pine Street. I think there's been a murder. I don't know the state of the crime scene or if the perp is still there, but you might be able to catch them if you hurry. The victim is Craig Davis, white adult male, either shot or stabbed in the chest, likely multiple times-"

"Wait, is this Tabby? The necro girl?"

Oh god I hope that isn't what the operators call me regularly-- I know I'm a bit of a 911 cryptid, since the usual intruder calls are to the non-emergency line, but if I get known as the necro girl I might have to move to a different state.

"Yeah, uh, necromancer, yeah-" I couldn't help but stumble over my words, now, with my train of thought derailed by the interruption. "-uh, murder?"

"Right! I'll send someone."

I murmured a thanks and hung up before she could ask me to stay on the line. I already had to stay around for the cops so Craig could give a statement, and making small talk with the 911 operator was not in the spoons tonight.

I don't like cops much, but in my line of work, they're kind of a necessity. I need to stay on the police force's good side because I need them to remove attempted murderers from my property on the regular. ...and also because graverobbing is still technically illegal, even if I do have the body owner's permission to dig them up.

At least most of the locals who know of me and my employees are chill about it. It took a bit of effort to get to that point, but now at least people don't run screaming from the less-presentable of my employees…

The blue lights of the police showed up fairly quickly, followed almost immediately by the red flashing of EMS. I puttered up slowly and parked my scooter just out of range as the officers set to work surrounding the house, then hung my helmet on a handlebar and walked up the rest of the way to watch the impending train wreck. I could feel Craig's anger boiling higher and tried my best to ignore it; Craig himself seemed to have fallen silent and sullen after I called him out.

"Tabby!"

I was standing just off to the side of the ambulance when someone stepped up behind me and called my name, making me jump and cringe.

"Oh- oh dear, I'm sorry, Tabs. I thought I heard you were the one who called this in!"

I straightened up immediately, face burning. I recognized that voice, bright and smooth and kind and--

"J-Jenna!" My voice was barely a squeak as I turned to face her, looking up at the round, dark face of one of the EMTs. She was a good six feet tall, maybe more, towering above me even in her uniform flats, with a brilliant smile and full lips and gorgeous natural hair pulled through the back of her uniform cap, the streetlight illuminating her from behind like a halogen angel.

Jenna had shown up to one of my early calls for assistance at No Regrets, and then she kept turning up, not every time I was in a situation where I'd be around EMTs, but often.

Concern showed on her face as she leaned to look me over.

"Are you okay? Did you see it happen, or-"

I shook my head, buying time to sort out words by tapping my temple with a finger.

"N-no, I uh- the victim woke me up, he's in here, uh, in case the cops need somethin' from him."

"Oh… are you getting enough sleep, dear? You sound exhausted. Do you want to sit in the back of the truck?"

It took me a second or two to recover from the way she called me dear, my face burning bright red. I couldn't make eye contact even for the second or two I can usually manage so that people don't immediately think I'm being dishonest.

"I- uh- um- w-well, it's, uh, it is like 4am--" I stammered, trying desperately to find words. "I-I guess 'm sleepin' okay, uh, how're… you doing??"

I have never been a great orator and the list of why that is gets a bit longer with every um and stutter.

Jenna's face bloomed into a gorgeous, open grin.

"I'm on 12-hour overnights right now, so I'm basically at least 60 percent Red Bull at any given time. Everyone okay up there at the House? Last I heard y'all were digging up half the lawn.”

I nodded, unable to keep from grinning. At least this was a subject I could talk to her about without making an absolute ass of myself--

"Yeah! The new girl, Chris, she's gotten Daryl and Roy to help her get the vegetable garden going! It's plenty big enough to take care of all of us, and I worked out a deal with the soup kitchen so that they get any of our excess, once things are running smoothly, and I can use their account to buy from that bulk food program that's usually only open to chari- oop-!" I bit my tongue and cringed. Right. I'm pretty sure that's technically fraud and I just admitted to it in front of-

There was a commotion from the house that snapped me back to attention, and the cops were leading a man out in handcuffs. He looked pale and shaken, spattered in blood, and not quite… present, like he had just checked out of reality for his own good. That… was a familiar look. I furrowed my brow. He certainly didn't look like a maniacal killer-

"He caught me with his wife," I said. Well. Craig said. I jumped. Jenna jumped. I flushed and covered my mouth reflexively.

"N-no that was him! The victim!" I squeaked. Jenna laughed, a hearty belly laugh, and covered her own mouth, though she was doing a terrible job of hiding her grin.

"I figured! If he caught you with his wife, it would be an upgrade!"

At this point, you could probably fry an egg on my face. Hell, my glasses were starting to fog up-- I stammered for a few moments, trying desperately to find something to say, and it was Craig who saved me, if you could call it that. I was too caught up in my embarrassment and awkwardness to realize how much anger and frustration he was radiating.

"Motherfucker told me he'd have my job! Son of a bitch thinks he can get away with doing this to me, he's gonna fucking pay--"

The oncoming storm crashed over me before I could get a grip on it, and all of a sudden I was lumbering forward, snarling words that weren't my own, and dragging a gardening pickaxe out of my truck -- Craig's truck -- on my way to the man and the cops--

I let out a shriek, in my own voice, feeling the sound cutting my throat raw. I wrested control of my body back with a lurch, falling on my ass in the yard with the force of it while the silvery-blue form of Craig was ejected from my body, screaming obscenities.

I threw my hand forward, fighting for whatever thoughts and words I could find to fix this. I saw Craig right himself and move back towards me, and the first incantation -- if you could call it that -- that my brain grasped left my lips in a single desperate breath, with a dizzying rush of power--

"INTHENAMEOFTHEMOONIBANISHYOU--!!"

The force of the hurried exorcism rushed outward like a sonic boom, strong enough for even the mundanes around me to feel, and Craig's spirit let out a yowl of rage for a brief second before twisting around itself and collapsing in with a sickening crunch, crushing smaller and smaller until it was gone.

I winced -- not my best exorcism. At all.

As the flare of adrenaline dropped almost immediately and I came back to myself properly, I realized -- blurrily, as my glasses had gotten thrown off somewhere -- at least two officers had their weapons half-drawn at me, though they were looking over at where Craig's spirit had disappeared.

I collapsed the rest of the way onto the grass, shaking, and covered my face with my hands, trying with everything within me not to start crying. I should have realized he'd try something like that, why hadn't I been paying attention- I could have been attacked, I could have been arrested, I could have had to watch myself beat a man to death and I- fuck--

The sob that came out was squeaky and pained, and I pressed my hands harder against my face, like that would stop anything else from going wrong. I should have brought someone-- I shouldn't have let him possess me-- I should have been paying more attention--

Warm tears ran from the corners of my eyes, down my cheeks, to pool in my ears, making my already-trembling body shiver harder with the unpleasant sensation. I'd let myself get complacent, hadn't lost control of a possession like that in years, and- I'd almost- fuck--

"Honey, honey, sit up for me. Tabby? C'mon, let's get you up--"

Numbly, I let Jenna help me into a sitting position, where she wrapped a blanket around me and pressed an open bottle of water into my hands.

"Take slow sips. Are you okay? Just shaken?"

I nodded, some part of me grateful that I couldn't quite see her face properly without my glasses, because I didn't want to see what she thought about me after that. She sighed, though, and sounded relieved when she murmured "Good."

My whole body felt like jelly, trembling so hard I could feel the water in the bottle sloshing around, and I kept flashing from too hot to too cold to too hot again, and I couldn't even sort out my thoughts--

Jenna sat down beside me and rubbed my back. If I wasn't having a complete breakdown, I might have enjoyed it.

I don't know how long it took for me to calm down and clear my head, but the car with the other man had left, and the other EMTs had loaded Craig's body into the ambulance while Jenna sat next to me and made sure I was doing okay.

After a while, though, I blinked and shifted my torso, then opened the blanket more and cursed at the bloom of red on my hoodie.

I heard Jenna curse as well as she stood up, but I grabbed her pants leg.

"N-no, 'm okay," I mumbled, and instead of trying to speak more, I reached to pull my hoodie and tank up my stomach to show bruised, but completely unbroken skin, covered in blood, rivulets following my stretch marks and making it look even worse despite my being otherwise completely uninjured. "See, 'm okay." This was not the first time I've had a possession lead to the dead's cause of death showing on my own body. It wasn't even the bloodiest.

Jenna sat back down, and I could see her leaning in a bit.

"Well damn. Magic ghost stuff, huh?"

I nodded.

"Magic ghost stuff."

I could see the flash of white against dark skin as she grinned.

"So that exorcism… Artemis or Usagi?"

It took me a moment to parse her.question, but all of a sudden I was completely back to myself, just in time to absolutely die of embarrassment.

"L-listen, I- y-you can exorcise i-in anyone's name, i-it's the power and conviction that counts--!!"

"Usagi, then." I could hear the laughter in her voice, laughter that bubbled out moments later. I wanted to crawl in a hole in embarrassment, but- it didn't feel like condescending laughter. I knew what that felt like. She seemed just genuinely amused. "I grew up with Sailor Moon, too."

I couldn't stop the squeak that eaked out, and I covered my face again.

"G-god I hope word about this doesn't get out, people already think I-I'm weird enough, and to- to fall back on anime for magic i-in a pinch is just--"

"Cute," Jenna finished.

I squeaked.

Jenna moved away for a moment, and then she settled my glasses on my nose. I couldn't make eye contact, but I did glance over at her and sheepishly murmur my thanks.

"The officers still want a statement from you, since you made the call and tried to go after the perp, but I don't think they're looking at any charges, given…" Jenna trailed off and looked over at where Craig had disappeared. "...yeah."

I nodded, slowly, and then found myself yawning, the adrenaline drop setting in especially hard.

"...d'you think it can wait 'til tomorrow… 've kinda had a rough night."

"I think they'll be okay with that."

[outofsstyles]

AU | Famous!Reader x Fashion student!Harry

☁️ FIC PAGE ☁️ PART 1 ☁️

word count: 20.3k

warnings: language

//

Sweet tea in the summer

Cross your heart, won't tell no other

And though I can't recall your face

I still got love for you

- Seven, Taylor Swift

//

“Can you bend your arms one last time, please?” Harry quickly angles his arms, holding them at chest height to show Marcus what he’s referring to.

He stands in front of Harry, dressed in his full Gaston outfit for the last fitting before opening night. The atelier has gone hectic again now that everyone’s gotten back from their lunch breaks, a mess of fabrics and papers taking over every surface in the room. There’s a low mesh of voices blending with Moyra’s playlist playing on a speaker that’s probably lost somewhere by now. Someone rushes across the room in a speed walk and almost bumps into Harry, muttering a quick apology before disappearing behind the doors leading to storage. 

As the week approached, Harry was warned by pretty much every single one of his coworkers about the chaos that it would be. After all, it’s the last week of rehearsals, and the first time the actors would get in characters with their full costumes. All arrangements have to be done by Saturday morning, is what Lisa said with her stern voice the previous Friday, with no space for wardrobe malfunctions. She meant it as a warning, but Harry took it as motivation, knowing he works better under stressful situations — which is not the healthiest working ethic, he admits, but it gets the job done.

On top of it all, your unprompted visit has surprisingly given him the boost he needed to finish up most of his work with an entire day to spare. 

It’s only been two days since you appeared on his front door with a Brit statuette and a promise to make up for the years lost in each other’s lives. Your suggestion to go out for a coffee quickly showed itself to be a bit more complicated than both of you thought it would; as neither of you expected the conflict in your schedules when making those plans. This was a busy week for Harry and an even busier opening weekend. The only time he’ll actually be able to catch a breather is by Monday, which, coincidentally, is the same day you’re catching a flight back to America.

Still, none of you seemed to want to wait another week to meet again. So he proposed to meet after his Friday shift. Which is why he spent the entirety of Thursday inside the costume studio, being the last one to leave just so he could wrap everything a few hours early to meet you back at his flat — by your request.

Even with a day cut short, however, there’s been barely enough time for him to focus on anything other than measurements and fittings. It’s a good thing when it comes to his nerves; the tight schedule giving him no space to let any butterfly drift on his belly. Without the anxiousness on the way and work to keep himself busy, it’s as if the clock has gone with a leap. He sewed back details that had fallen off an extra’s costume while swallowing back the salad he’d brought for lunch, made sure Lumiere’s candleholders were fixed in place, and that no feathers from Plumette would sweep around the stage. Now, after having to make an adjustment to Gaston’s shirt - thanks to an unexpected problem with the stitching - he’s finally able to allow his shoulders to relax a bit.

Marcus mimics the movement shown to him, keeping his arms still as Harry takes a step to examine the character’s signature red shirt with his fingers fiddling with the tip of the measuring tape hanging around his shoulders.

“Does it still feel tight around your chest?” Harry asks, noting how the stitching on the sides is not stretching anymore. “Or under your arms?”

“Nope,” Marcus answers with a pop, relaxing his arms back down when Harry turns to write something down. “Fits like a glove, mate.”

He clicks his pen down on the table. “Then we’re all good.” 

“So, I’m free to go?” He jumps down from the platform, loosening the black leather belt that’s fastened around his waist.

“You’re free to go,” Harry confirms after a double-check at the file sitting on the table, making sure there’s no other change that’s needed on his costume. “Just put everything back in the bag and hang it on the rack.”

“Yes, sir.” Marcus shifts with the curtains of the changing room before disappearing inside of it.

“And make sure the label is still stuck to it!” Harry calls over his shoulder, listening to the mumbled response before turning back to the files on his hands. 

While he waits for Marcus to return, he gathers everything he needs to leave. A quick look at his phone that was left forgotten on top of a roll of blue-dyed camel tells him it’s around four, meaning he’s just in time. Checking the pages he’s been focusing on, Harry walks to the rack, selecting the two bags carrying the costumes he still needs to make adjustments on, placing them carefully over his work table before making his way to fetch his backpack.

As soon as Marcus is out, he gives a double check to see if the label is still stuck to the bag he just hanged - not entirely trusting the cast’s attention to those details - before collecting his belongings and heading for the door. He bids his goodbyes on his way out, catching the attention of Alice, who’s standing on a platform near the door while Moyra works on the skirt of her yellow dress with a few pins placed between her lips.

“Going already, H?” She asks, her eyes big as she looks down at him.

He stops in his tracks with a hand on the door handle gnawing on his inner cheek as he turns to face her. 

As soon as he meets her gaze, he notices the subtle tinge of pink painting over her cheekbones. It’s something that Harry’s gotten used to by now when speaking with Alice. 

He could tell she was shy from the moment he got to meet the entire cast, always standing quietly to the side reading her script, keeping her chats restricted to the same two people (which is funny enough of a contrast with her stage persona, considering she has the main role). But with Harry, she’s always been especially timid, and it didn’t take too long for him to learn from Moyra that the girl had taken a fancy on him — if the blushing wasn’t a big indicator.

It’s sweet, he reckons. She’s lovely enough, from the limited amount of conversations they had, and Harry finds it that maybe if she opened up a bit it would be nice to get to know her. Julia’s the one that always pesters him about it, though urging for Harry to make a move from the moment he told her about the girl’s crush on him. She says his romantic side gets especially annoying when he’s lonely, and he knows she’s right, but would never admit it to her face. So he just brushes it off, saying he’ll take the time to talk to Alice.

Except now. Harry knows he’s on the clock if he wants to make it in time to meet you. The last thing he wants is for you to have to stand on the street because he got caught up in her mutters. 

So he keeps his grip on the handle, hoping it’s enough of a hint for the conversation to be cut short, as he motions his arm that holds the clothes’ bags at the crook of his elbow. “Yeah, I- Lisa let me work on these at home.”

“So you’re not having a drink with us tonight?” Alice rushes out, eyes darting up at him, and her blush gets a shade stronger. When her lips part again, her voice comes out a bit lower,  “It’s the last one before opening night, and you haven’t gone in a while...”

“Harry’s too cool to hang out with us.” Moyra barges in the conversation, glancing teasingly at Harry from over her shoulder as she takes the last pin from between her lips.

“Shut up, Mo.” He rolls her eyes slightly, grip tightening on the door as he prepares to leave.

Before he can do so, Alice speaks up, her eyes falling again to her fingers that poke at her nails. “You know, bringing work home sometimes can cause stress… And stuff.” She peeks up at Harry, shrugging slightly. “I read about it somewhere, anyway.”

“I think I’ll be fine, really, but thanks.” Turning the knob, he cracks open the door.  “Just got something today.”

Moyra doesn’t waste a second before blurting, “A date.”

“Don’t.” He warns with a sigh. “I’m seeing an old friend.”

“That’s nice.” Alice nods.

“Yeah.” He takes a step out, being painfully aware of how he’s a second away from being late. “Uhm, I gotta get going then.”

The girl looks up at him fully then, giving a small wave. “See you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, yeah, for sure.” He calls over his shoulder as he’s out the door.

The tube’s just starting to get filled again with people like Harry, who are likely on their journey back home. Shoulders tense and frowns scrunching their faces, they barely pay any mind to him as he finds a spot opposite to the exit doors — preferring to stay closer to them as to get off quicker. He leans against one of the many metal rails that outline the inside of the train car, his vans bouncing nervously as he adjusts the bags at the crook of his elbow, feeling as if today it’s traveling slower than usual. 

Picking up his phone to check the time once again, he’s met with a text. It’s not from you, as he’d hoped, but from Julia. A picture of her and Blake, faces squished together as they force a smile a bit too big for the camera, their hairs meshing together in a mix - Julia’s darker curls tangling with Blake’s shorter blonde locks - and Harry can just about make out the outline of a bright orange sofa from Blake’s living room behind them. The message that reads under it is short, yet playfully demanding.

Juls: impromptu movie night!!! bring chocolate!!!

He smiles down at the screen, but it quickly turns into a frown as he realizes that he won’t be able to make it. Biting down his bottom lip, his thumb hovers above the keyboard, not sure how to respond. There’s not a chance he can fully tell the truth to her, not over text. Even if he brushes over it, he knows his friend, and how nosy she can be sometimes — which has never bothered him before until he found himself in this position. He contemplates lying. A white one, there is. Just say he got caught up with work or something along those lies. Something he knows she’d understand. But the simple thought of it makes him feel guilty; as if he’s leaving her out.

So, he opts for the ladder, pushing the responsibility for his future self to deal with the interrogation afterwards when he sees her again. Maybe if he finishes the tv show she’s been nagging him to watch in time, it’ll be enough of a distraction so she won’t ask him many questions. His answer comes a bit slower than usual — not only due to his internal battle but also for finding it a bit tricky to type with one hand. By the time he clicks the send button, Julia has already sent enough interrogation points to cover half of the screen.

Can’t tonighttt got something...

Juls: what’s something

I’ll tell you later, send Blake a hug for me.

Juls: no :(

With a chuckle, he pockets his phone,  noticing he’s just a couple of steps away from his own. Once he’s out of the station, just a couple blocks away from his building, the bundle of nerves he’s been avoiding all day sweeps in. They’re not overwhelming, they don’t make his chest tighten or his palms sweat, no. They’re the nerves that give him a spring to his step, that make him take deeper breaths, and that speed his heart just the tiniest bit.

It’s a strange feeling to be going home with the sky still shining a clear blue, instead of the purple-pink that comes just before the sun hugs the horizon. A cloudless day. Thanks to the previous streak of rainfalls that washed away the angry greys. The colors painting his surroundings seem somehow more vibrant, more welcoming. The greens of the trees greet him with a gentle breeze. The maroons of the bricked buildings warm under the sunlight. Even the yellow and the pink of his dirty vans feel a bit brighter as he strolls around the corner of his block.

It’s almost like it matches the way he feels. And Harry knows that from now on, with spring at its peak and summer becoming more present, the weather is bound to become even more pleasant. He hopes it’s some sort of sign. Maybe the universe is getting gentler with him. He’d like to think that.

Part of him still dwells on the feeling the slightest bit, finding a strange sort of uncertainty over how quickly you’ve got at the palm of your hand again. He barely got any sleep after you left his house just thinking about it, actually. There’s no denying that your presence again has brought back the fondest memories of his teenage years. Ones he tried too hard to bury as to ease the ache in his heart that came with them for a long time. But now, having you back, it’s as if they’ve taken almost a hopeful feeling. The reminders of how close you used to be came crashing into him like a wave, enveloping him. That was the first time he ever opened up so fully to someone, after all. And that comfort of having someone that knows him better than he knows himself is something he craves so deeply within himself that, as soon as even the slimmest possibility of having it once again presented itself, he grasped it so quickly that now he’s afraid he’s letting himself dive too deep.

He’s so inside of his head, thoughts rushing inside his mind, that he almost glances over you when he finally approaches his building. 

Paying little to no mind to your cream trousers as you kneel on the sidewalk, a paper bag propped under your arm and a disposable cup holder in your hand hugging two paper cups, you focus on a collie that’s enjoying your hand caressing the fur down its neck. A gold pendant from your necklace reflects the weak rays of sunlight, glowing in a contrast with the black of the short-sleeved turtleneck you’re wearing, tucked under your trousers. 

It’s only when he lets his eyes focus on the company you have that he immediately recognizes the pup, as well as the older lady holding the leash while smiling down at you interacting with her pet.  

Margaret is one of the oldest residents of the building, taking a permanent spot at the very first apartment on the first floor. She was the first neighbor he got to meet, bringing him homemade jelly tarts on his first weekend at his apartment. They chatted for an afternoon and, after admitting he’s not the best cook, she vowed to bring him some of her dishes every time she could. And true to her world, around twice a week she knocks on his door with a warm trail and a sweet smile. Harry likes to visit her as often as he can, knowing she lost her husband a few years before he moved, and has no children to keep her company — that is, apart from her collie, Duchess.

“Harry!” Margaret is the first to acknowledge him with a grin, her voice causing your head to snap up from where you kneel. “You’re early today, my love.”

“Actually, I’m a bit late.” He chuckles, glancing at where you’re standing up while sweeping your trousers. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh! No worries, I just got here.” You brush it off, finding a place next to him before gazing back at Margaret. The older lady attempts to look discreetly between the two of you, brows arched, and Harry knows from the look in her eyes he’ll probably have to face another interrogation later on. Though, in this case, he’s sure she’s oblivious of your public image. “And, thankfully, I bumped into these lovely ladies who kept me company.”

“Stop that! You’re a very lovely lady yourself, darling.” Margaret reaches for Harry’s wrist as she smiles at you, giving it a squeeze, and he quickly nods, agreeing with her. She looks up at him, lips tight in a grin that’s enough for him to realize her assumptions about why you’re here, and, from the way you’re holding back a laugh yourself, he’s sure you’ve noticed, too. He clears his throat, gazing down at his shoes, trying to cover up the warmth that creeps up his neck, and that seems to be enough for Margaret to take a hint, letting his wrist go with another gentle squeeze. “I’ll leave you two be, Duchess and I still have to grab groceries before it gets dark.”

Harry scratches his nose in a nervous tick. “‘Ave a good day, Marg.”

“You too, Lovie.” She gives his hip a soft pinch before turning to you. “It was lovely meeting you.”

“Right back at you!” You answer excitedly, waving back as the older lady starts her stroll. “Have a nice walk! Bye, Duchess.”

For a second, you quietly watch the duo walk further away from where you stand. A faint hum of car engines can be heard, being cut only by the high-pitched voices of two children, seeming not much older than ten, as they appear at the other side of the street. The peek over your shoulder is quick before you turn your back to them, turning fully to Harry with a slight smile tugging at the side of your lips. 

He clears his throat again, adjusting the bags he’s still holding. “Hi.” 

“Hey.” You answer in a beat, nodding towards him. “Your hair is down.”

“It is, yeah.” His voice comes lower than he intended, the warmth still present on his cheeks, and he quickly motions towards the front door. While fiddling with the side pocket of his backpack in search of his keys, he picks up as you lean into the bricked wall next to the entrance.

“It looks great, really! Wasn’t expecting it to be this long.”

“Yea, I- Thanks.” He shoots you a look once he fetches the keys. “Have been growing it out for a few months now.”

You give him a knowing hum. “Any reason for it?”

The click of your boots against the wooden steps echoes around the narrow walls of the building’s staircase. Harry leads the way up, climbing the steps in a bit of an awkward position as he tries to look back at you.“Uh, not really, no.”  He shrugs. “Just having fun with it, I guess.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to be!” You exclaim. “It really compliments you, I mean it.”

“Thank you.” He rubs his nose, coming to a stop as both of you reach his front door. “You- Uh, I- You look very nice, as well.”

“Oh!” You look down at your outfit with a chuckle. “I rarely go around this fancy, but I had a meeting today.” You brush it off. “Which is also not an excuse for me to dress up but I didn’t know most people there so I had to make a good impression, or whatever.”

A dimple pokes at his cheek as you ramble, a habit you seem to haven’t lost. He unlocks the door with ease, pushing it in and motioning for you to walk in. “‘S nice, very pretty, I- I mean, your trousers are very pretty.”

Your smile grows as you support yourself on the wall while toeing off your shoes. If you notice the blush on his cheeks, you don’t mention it. “Thank you! Means a lot coming from you, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, you’re the fashion student, after all.” He’s not sure why your answer comes in a bit of a letdown, almost as if he was expecting you to say something else. “By the way, I got us some goodies on the way. Didn’t know how you like your coffee, so I just took a wild guess. Here, try it— If you don’t like it you can have mine, it’s a cappuccino, very sweet.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, watching for his reaction as he sips on the hot beverage. “So...?”

“It’s perfect.” He takes another small sip of the cup you handed to him, trying not to make a face at the slightly bitter taste that comes with it (he’s still not the biggest coffee fan, if he’s honest). He makes his way to lay the bags that now have slid down his elbow at the arm of the couch. Noticing you’re still standing awkwardly by the front door looking around, he points at the counter next to him, quickly sweeping his arm over it to brush the stack of papers to the side.  “You can set everything in here, please feel at home.”

This is the first time you properly get to have a look around his place, which is weird enough of a concept when you take into consideration it’s not the first time you’ve come here (and the flash memory of that night alone is enough for you to fight back a cringe). You recall the path to your right leading towards the bathroom where you spent an hour sitting inside his bathtub before having to answer a not-very-pleased Sonia calling your phone. The rest of the place, however, is a bit of a blur in your memory, so you take this moment to take in his home.

Surely, the space itself is quite modest, but it doesn’t mean there’s not a lot to take in. From your position across from him, the island separating the two of you, you can still scan most of his living room. 

You like that it’s not completely tidy (those sorts of crystal clean homes always freak you out a bit). Upon a first glance, it’s clearly the residence of an undergrad. A couple textbooks pile on top of a center table. A shut laptop sitting next to the cushions on the navy blue couch. Even a few houseplants amongst picture frames spread on shelves and stands. It’s cute, you think, but you barely sweep your eyes over those details.

What calls your attention are the glimpses of the life you’ve missed on. It’s the magazines decorated with sticky notes. It’s the rolls of fabric peeking out from the couch arm. It’s a box of yarn tucked in the far corner, on top of other boxes that are shut closed. Those details seem to have replaced his canvases and paint sets. It makes you wonder if he still keeps them hidden somewhere. If there’s still anything left of the life he had the last time you saw him. 

Oddly enough, you smile at the thought. Somehow glad that he found his passion, even if you weren’t there to support him through it. And it brings you back to why you’re here in the first place. Make up for the lost time.

“Thank you for agreeing to do this here.” You speak up as you focus back on taking the sweets you so carefully picked out from inside the bag (you weren’t entirely sure of his dessert preferences now, which caused the slightest rise of panic as you tried to decide on what to pick from the vast array of options). “I know it’s weird to ask you to, like, have me at your house instead of just meeting at a cafe, but the one I usually go to is closed for renovations and I get a bit wary at, uh, public places.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind having you here.” A small grin tugs at his lips, and it’s hard for you to ignore the warmth that comes to you with it. 

You clap your hands together, gazing around quickly before focusing back on him. “So! I finally get to properly see your place— sorry about that the other night, by the way, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

He chuckles. “It’s really okay, like I said, don’t mind having you here.” He repeats, clearing his throat. “It’s, uh, not that big but-”

“I love it, seems so cozy.” You interrupt before he can go on any further, hating the way he feels the need to apologize to you for something like the size of his home. “And it’s a perfect place to have just for yourself.”

“Actually, I-” His lips stay apart for half a second before he continues, blurting the next words out as if it’s a confession, “I have a flatmate.”

“Oh!” You blink in surprise, taking a second to process the information. 

Of course he does. Why did you even think otherwise? Most people share flats these days. Despite that, the possibility of him living with someone didn’t even cross your mind. It’s hard to ignore when it comes to you the riskiness of it. Whoever this flatmate is, you don’t know them, and the possibility of them spilling anything makes you a tad uneasy. It could easily ruin any possibility of a friendship with Harry before you can even get close to him again. 

There’s a wave of anxiety that hits you with the prospect of being the cause of his face printed on the cover of money-hungry tabloids, but, before you get deeper in your own nerves than you already have, you sum what’s left of composure within you to ask,  “Do they... Have you told them about-- well, me?”

He tears up a piece of banana bread, picking at it as he shakes his head, clearly unaware of your change in moods. “Not, really. She’s at her girlfriend’s for the week, so I haven’t been able to see her.”

You try to hide the way your eyes widen the slightest bit with the information that said flatmate is a she. “Is she a fashion student as well?”

“No, she’s a journalist. She works— well, interns for a music magazine, actually.”

Of course she’s a fucking journalist. When you think it couldn’t get any worse. “Anything that would ring a bell?”

“I don’t think so, they’re quite small.” He shrugs, sipping at his coffee.  “Don’t even have an office, they do most of the work online.”

“That’s interesting.” You nod, nails picking at a few crumbs dotted around the counter. Scrunching your lips, you try to consider how to word what you’re about to say. Knowing this conversation would have to be brought up eventually doesn’t make it any less awkward for you to have it. You peek up at him from under your lashes, only to find his oblivious state as he smiles back at you. “Harry… Can I ask you for a favour?” 

“Course.”

Inhaling deeply, you attempt not to let your voice come out as calculated as the words that roll out of your lips are. “Could you… Just for a bit, not mention anything about me to her?”

Harry’s expression falls to a frown. “What do you mean?”

“Just--” You pause, resting your cup down before turning to face him fully. “Just for a little while, I-- You have to understand that I would like to be a bit more private… About us?”

“Us?”

“Our friendship… I-” There it is again, the gust of panic. It makes you spit out the words before you can even process them,  “I wouldn’t want any headlines.” 

This only seems to worsen everything it seems, as Harry sits back on his stool, putting more space between you two. He shakes his head, “Julia would never do that.”

“I’m sure she wouldn't!” You rush, attempting to fix it. “It’s just… She could mention it to someone, and-- I don’t know, these things get out of hand really fast.” 

“So you want me to lie to her?”

“Not lie.” You chew at your bottom lip, sure that you’re a word away from getting kicked out. “Just, not to mention it… Just for a little while, it’s not like it can be a secret forever.”

“Right.” He slowly starts to nod, falling quiet for a beat too long. “Sure, yeah, okay.”

You exhale in relief, softening your expression. “Thank you.”

A silence falls between the two of you and, for the first time since your reconnection, it’s not much of a comfortable one. You have to swallow back the guilt that threatens to take over, knowing the awkwardness is mainly your fault for dealing with your request in such an awful way. Of course, you would have to have the privacy talk with Harry eventually, ideally being sooner rather than later. But asking him to lie and insinuating that his friend could use you to sell her magazine is most certainly the worst way you could’ve chosen to go about it. And there’s nothing to stop yourself from feeling completely stupid while picking at the brownie in front of you.

There’s a part of you, one that comes a bit louder now, that ponders if even bother continuing this in the first place; if it wouldn’t be better to spare him the burden that the simple association with you will bring into his life. You know it would be easier, better for him even, if you just collect your stuff now and walk out the door to never contact him again. If you excused this meeting as a lapse of rationality on your part. And just like that, you could let him go on with his regular life, having to come to terms with him painting a picture of you as another arrogant celebrity that just toyed with him for a bit before she got bored. It would hurt, sure, but this part of you tries to reason that it’s the best you could do for him.

Another part, though, a more selfish one that is, can’t bear the thought of standing up from your stool and just simply turn your back to this as if it never happened. No, you can’t bring yourself to do that. Not when meeting Harry again has brought you a sense of comfort you hadn’t even realized you’ve been lacking for months now. Not when he feels like the only person who doesn’t have an image of you shadowed by this big bright monster of fame — one that calls everyone’s attention before they can even take a proper look at you. You know he doesn’t need that, because of all the versions you present of yourself, he’s one of the few people that know which is the real one. 

This part of you makes you act thoughtlessly, letting your emotions speak louder than your brain. It makes you want to follow the immediate sense of relief that comes in knowing there’s no need to change anything to fit an imaginary narrative someone has made of you. There’s no need to do that with Harry. You’re so desperate to keep that ease that comes with being in his presence, that any thought of how it’ll eventually come crashing down on you is pushed to the back of your mind.

Worrying your lip between your teeth, you risk a glance up at him. To your relief, there’s not a crease between his brows like you expected. He doesn’t seem upset about your question anymore, his shoulders relaxed while he focuses on tearing a piece of the banana bread and shoving it into his mouth. The realization makes you straighten your posture, a sudden rush of determination flushing through your body. You’ve come here to get to know him again, and you’re not letting a poor start weigh you down. And, as your gaze falls to the costume bags lying across the couch arm behind him, an inquiry that has been floating through your mind comes back to you.

“So…” You clear your throat, leaning your elbow to rest on top of the counter as you rest your chin on your palm. Harry’s eyes shoot up at you, and you grin a bit as you point to the spot behind him. “Are you going to tell me a bit about that?”

His brows frown for a second as he looks back, finding the bags that called your attention from the moment you saw him on the sidewalk.  “What would you like to know?”

“Well, last time we spoke you were talking about working in a gallery.” You circle your cup in your hand, bringing it up to your lips but not yet taking a sip.  “And now, I have the information that you dropped out just a wee after; how did that happen?”

"It took a while for it to happen, actually.”  He crosses his arms on top of the counter, leaning in slightly. “Dunno if you remember but, uhm… This might be a bit awkward.”

Your brows raise towards your hairline, his words only enhancing your curiosity. “It’s okay, whatever you feel comfortable sharing.”

“I don’t mind it, just- well, after we broke up,” He starts, clearing his throat as his gaze searches for yours, eyes flickering between your own in search of a reaction. He was right. This is awkward. You try to remain a calm expression, nodding in encouragement for him to continue — although you want nothing more than to flinch at the words. “I was, uh, well, sad.” He lets out a quick chuckle. “A friend of mine- James, dunno if you remember them- they recommended a knitting group class kinda thing that they were in every Wednesday, told me it was quite therapeutic and calming, and stuff.”

“That’s cute.” You comment, trying to brush off the way your chest tightens at the brief mention of his feelings post-breakup, knowing how hard it was for both of you.

He smiles at you before continuing, “Got the hang of it pretty fast, actually. James was right being therapeutic. After a bit, I started going twice a week.” He reaches to brush his fingers over a napkin. You watch as his fingertips slide gently along its edge. “The lady that taught it, Laura- you’d ‘ve loved her, used to bake us biscuits every week. She had graduated in fashion, actually owned a boutique for a good fifty years.”

“Holy shit,” Your lips part in awe. “Can you imagine doing something for that long?”

“‘S exactly what got me thinking.” He peeks up at you, lips twitching up. “Around that time I was so confused about what to do with an art degree, and I realized it wasn’t really something I saw myself doing for decades on end.” 

Understanding, you give him a warm smile, toying with the lid of your cup as to not reach for his hand. Even though you weren’t around anymore at the time the events he’s describing took place, you still remember how confused he was right from the start. Harry’s always had an artist in him, and that’s something that wasn’t hard for anyone to see, but it was clear then how he wasn’t completely satisfied with his path. Back then, before you two parted ways, you recall thinking he was still adjusting with uni, and that eventually, he’d find his passion within the arts. It never occurred to you he might not be in the field he loved, after all. 

Looking back at it now, it makes sense.

“Laura helped me a lot during that time. She was the one that even introduced fashion as a possibility for me, we would talk for hours.” It’s hard to miss the fond smile that tugs his lips at the memory. “She even started inviting me for a cuppa outside of class hours, answer all my questions- even the stupid ones, she was really patient. Was almost like a mentor of sorts.” 

“She sounds like an awesome human.” Your voice is gentle, admiring how the words come out of him with an admiration that makes you warm all over.

“She was.” His eyes fall to his hands. Your expression softens, suddenly noticing how he’s been using the past tense when talking about her. “She told me once that sometimes making a career out of a hobby is not always the way to go, you know? Takes away the fun of it if you feel obligated to do it. It was then when I decided to switch.”

“Were you scared?” 

“Terrified.” You two laugh. “I was choosing a path that I’d never even considered before. It was so new, I was so scared I wasn’t making the right decision. It scared me that maybe fashion wasn’t also my thing, you know? Cause if it wasn’t, then what?”

“I get that.” You risk resting your hand next to his, sticking your pinky out to brush against his. He quickly interlaced them, smiling down at the gesture. “I’m glad it worked out, and you found something you’re passionate about.”

“Me too.” He replies, mimicking your position as he brings the hand that’s not enlaced with yours to rest under his cheek.

You smile, and he smiles, too.  

//

“Why can’t we just stay in tonight?”

The question leaves your lips in almost an annoyed huff. The third one in the last five minutes. Aya doesn’t spare you a glance this time, her eyes focusing solely on sweeping the white eyeliner over her eyelid as she finishes the last few touches of her makeup.

Her apartment is lit up with a golden glow, the lights having been lowered and the flame of a couple of green lavender candles helping set the relaxing energy of the room. It’s the primary reason you love staying at Aya’s; her place is always cozy, no matter which house of hers you’re in (even though you have a softer spot for her New York apartment). And it helps to have company, since your place has been uneasily empty lately. 

The original plan was simple: make dinner while catching up with the last Game of Thrones season. You’ve been looking forward to it all week. After days of hopping from long meetings to recording sessions, only to go home to your cold bed, reuniting with Aya was the one thing that kept you from catching the first flight back to London as soon as your errands were dealt with. So, it’s hard not to express your disappointment about having to attend some dinner party a good thirty minutes away from her warm apartment.

The thing is, the suggestion didn’t even come from Aya, but rather a surprise guest you weren’t even expecting to be here at the same time as you, Claire. 

And it’s not like you don’t like Claire, you do, well, you try to, which is the best you can do for now. She's been friends with Aya for a couple of months and, with Aya, it’s not that hard to become friends with her, if you’re honest. So you never really bother to keep track of the ones that come and go as quick as the pendulum of a clock. It’s something you’ve grown used to with the years of friendship. But unlike most of them, Claire seems to have stuck like an annoying piece of gum at the bottom of your boots.

In reality, you know it’s unfair to her to be annoyed when she’s really done nothing wrong. The sole reason for you two not mashing that well is more of a conflict in personalities than anything else. Usually, you manage to ignore that in order to keep at least somewhat of a friendly relationship with her during nights out -- more for Aya’s sake than yours. And sometimes you even enjoy her presence! When she’s not surrounded by big groups of people  (rare) and doesn’t feel the need to be obnoxiously loud for no reason, at those times when it’s just the three of you, she’s actually quite nice to talk to.

But now, you honestly wish you could glue her lips together and quite literally kick her out the front door. As she rushes around the place, - from the walk-in closet to the bathroom to the bedroom and so on - her voice so loud in attempts to speak over the playlist she put on just over two hours ago. The mesh of noises is so much you’d be sure no one heard your complaint if it wasn’t for Aya’s reply just a minute later.

“We stay in every day.” You watch as she bends over the sink, getting closer to the mirrored wall as she applies her lipstick carefully. With a smack of her lips, her eyes meet yours in the reflection. “I think it’d be good for you to go out.”

“Just two months ago you were complaining about how much I go out, and now you complain that I don’t go out enough?” You arch your brows, fully aware of how whiny you sound.

“Well, not my fault you don’t know how to balance your social life.” She focuses back on herself, opening a product you can’t make out what it is and tapping it against her cheekbones. “It’s either going out every single day to the point of no sleep or becoming a hermit inside your house.”

You pout. “I’m working, you know tha-”

“It’s cause she only goes out with her LA friends now, Meme.” Claire blurts out as she appears from inside the closet, holding one of Aya’s transparent coats. You keep a straight face as you turn to look at her, trying not to cringe with her nickname for Aya. She seems oblivious of your annoyance, though, making her way to lean on the archway leading to where Aya’s finishing getting ready. “Now it’s all about Dora and - what’s his name?”

Aya interrupts before you have the chance to bite back, “It’s not even that, C, think she’s found something more interesting keeping her in London.” 

The smirk she shoots you from over her shoulder makes you avert your eyes, a blush creeping up your neck, warming all the way to the tip of your ears. The knowing look on her face could almost make you entirely flustered, as if she knows exactly the reason you’ve been so comfortable staying in London by yourself — especially now that the sole thought of being alone sends a tight grip to your chest. But you know there’s no reason for you to be nervous about it. You haven’t told a single person about your reconnection with Harry yet, somehow feeling an odd sort of protectiveness over it. And you’re not sure why this new flame of happiness still feels so fragile to you, so delicate, that a simple, outspoken word to the wrong person could take it away from you. 

And oh, how scared you are of it being taken away as quickly as it came to you.

So you’ve kept it within your grasp for as long as you can. Away from prying eyes and greedy hands. It’s the one thing that you have now that feels just yours, the one part of you that no one else knows about. That’s the sole reason you even asked him to keep it a secret in the first place.

Still, that doesn’t mean that people around haven’t noticed the sudden change in you — as small as you thought it was, it surely didn’t go unnoticed by those that know you so well. Sonia was the first to mention it. When you couldn’t keep yourself from checking your phone every five minutes during a studio session, she had teased you about it. You brushed it off, and she made no more comments about it, thankfully. But you didn’t miss the looks she gave you every time you excused yourself to make a phone call.

With Aya, though, you know it won’t be as easy to get her to disregard your behavior. You hoped she hadn’t caught on when earlier in the afternoon she nudged you about being all smiley while reading a text (Harry had just sent you a picture of Duchess wearing a knitted vest he’d made for her and you had it open when Aya peeked from over your shoulder to see what you were looking at, so you just said it was a message from your sister before quickly locking the screen). 

However, after her comment, you’re sure she’s clearly aware that something’s up. And, knowing Aya, you’re aware she won’t drop this subject until you tell her exactly what it is that’s keeping you in London. Before she has the chance to poke further, you’re saved by none other than Claire, who did not pick up on Aya’s grin shot towards you. Barely registering the meaning behind her words at all, actually, as she makes her way to sit at the foot of the bed. “Well, whatever it is, I think I might have something to keep you here with us.”

Thankfully, Aya drops the subject, only widening her eyes slightly at you, almost in a warning at what’s coming. “Here it comes.”

You frown, glancing from your friend that stands opposite you to the girl that’s scooping closer to where your legs rest. “What do you mean?”

“I know you’re still having a hard time after Noah.” The words spill from her lips and you almost choke on your own saliva at her bluntness. There was a sort of silent agreement between you and Aya about not mentioning your ex by name. So hearing it being outspoken without expecting it surely comes in a bit of a shock. But Claire still seems oblivious of it, only reaching to grip right under your knee in what’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture, you guess. “But it’s been so long now! Maybe you need a little push with, like, getting over him.”

“A push.” It’s hard to keep the affronting expression that tugs down your lips.

“Someone.” A squeeze to your knee. You want to push it off. “There’s this guy-”

That’s it. You close your eyes with a deep breath. “Claire-”

“Before you say no, listen to me!” She holds out her hands, in a habit of gesturing her words when she explains herself. “There’s this guy, okay? He works with my brother at NYT and I met him a couple of times, and- Just listen! The whole time we were talking, I could only think of you! I was like ‘oh my god, she’s gonna love him’ cause he’s totally your type!”

You scoff, glancing over at Aya who’s clearly trying to keep herself occupied. “Is this why you’re dragging me out tonight?”

Her deer-in-the-headlights eyes meet yours in the reflection. “Hey, I have nothing to do with Mr. Perfect here. As I said, I just think it’d be good for you to go out.”

“Just meet him, okay? You don’t have to go out on a date or anything just-” Claire brings your attention back to herself. “Just talk for a bit, see if you click. I think it’ll be good.” Her voice gets softer, shoulder dropping. “I’m just trying to help.”

There’s not an ounce of you that wants to engage in any sort of small-talk filled conversation, having close to no patience in getting to know someone new at this moment of your life. The prospect of having to sit and pretend whatever this man is going to tell you about himself interests you for god knows how long is enough to make you want to swim all the way back to England in your stilettos. But it’s clear that Claire’s intentions with this are far from malicious in any way, and you can’t help but feel bad for lashing out at her. So you just sigh, letting the words fall from your lips before you think about it enough to regret them,  “Okay.”

Her face lights up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll chat with him.”

She squeals. “You’ll love him! I’m telling you-”

“Claire,” You interrupt before she can get ahead of herself. “You sound like you’re envisioning a wedding already. I agreed to chat. That's it.”

“Chat. Okay, it’s a start.” She nods, a smile too big for her face before squealing again, throwing a look over her shoulder. “Right, Meme? Don’t you think it’ll be good for her?”

“Please, I’m just the audience in this conversation.” She calls back, turning to face you after a second to motion to the coat sitting on Claire’s lap. “Is this the coat you chose?”

Claire jumps from her spot in the bed at the mention of it. “Yes! What do you think? Wait- I’ll try it on, see if you can still notice the pink details on my dress.”

The girl bolts towards the walk-in closet where there are larger mirrors she can see herself better on and, just as she turns her back, Aya shoots you a wink before following her. 

You relax back into the arrangement of pillows, another sigh leaving your lips as it comes to you what you’ve just agreed on. Sometimes you wish you weren’t so easily persuaded by a pair of puppy eyes, knowing the consequences of it almost always have to do with you doing something you’re not too comfortable with. Your eyes shut close and you have to refrain from rubbing your face as not to ruin the makeup Aya applied so carefully. The night has barely started and you already feel exhausted mentally. Not wanting to dwell on it further, you make a mental note to yourself: learn how to say no.

Turning your face, you pick up the phone that was left forgotten next to you during the chat with Claire. To your surprise, the screen lights up showing a text from Harry received just about five minutes ago. You try not to sit up too suddenly, as not to call attention to yourself, while you swipe your thumb over the screen to open the message. 

A smile tugs on your lips before you can even read what it says, simply reacting to the picture attached to it. The first thing you notice is his hair, poking out of his head in a messy mesh resembling somewhat of a mane. You bite back a giggle at the thought. His face is lit up, mouth parted in an open smile as he gives a thumb up to the camera. You take a moment too long looking at his face until you realize what the picture is meant to show. You. Next to him, on the screen of his telly, grinning with the blue sunglasses you wore to the music video shoot.

The text under it is short, but it causes the most beautiful flowers to bloom under your chest.

H: Found this cutie while browsing todayy

H: Looks familiar? ;)

//

“That’s definitely too much.”

You glanced back at Harry as your eyebrows shot towards your hairline, challenging. His own face mimicked your expression, peeking down at the cup of flour in your hands before meeting your eyes again. With his locks being pulled up with your hair tie, it’s hard to take him seriously after you’d teased him about resembling a sprout when he first walked into the kitchen, ignoring his protests to playfully sweep the tiny bouquet of curls with your finger.

“How many times do I have to tell you, this is the exact amount?” You replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“How do you know? You’re not even measuring it!”

“It’s a muffin, Harry, how difficult can it be?” You rolled your eyes in feign annoyance, turning the cup into the mixing bowl before he could protest it. “I can do it by eye just fine.”

“This is chaotic.” He scrunched his nose, shaking his head in disbelief at the cloud of flour that floated through the air at how abruptly you threw it. “Making a bloody mess, you are.”

“Yeah, yeah, now tell me what’s next.”

He exhaled a chuckle, secretly enjoying your antics, before turning to check the open recipe book that sat on the counter. His finger followed the words written in instructions, and you observed with amusement the crease forming on his face as he attempted to decipher your nan’s handwriting. It took him a second before he clicked his tongue, “We should’ve mixed the wet ingredients first.”

“Does it make a difference?” You bit back a smile, knowing your words would get a reaction out of him.

And, as you predicted, Harry’s face turned into an appalled expression. “Does it make a difference?” He repeated your question, astounded. “Of course it makes a difference!”

You giggled, reaching for the milk carton. “I’m sure the muffins will be fine if I put in the milk after the flour, they won’t even notice.”

“Christ,” He shook his head again, a few curls falling loose against his forehead with the motion. “Baking with you is going to make me go gray by the time I reach my twenties.”

This time you let out a full laugh, mouth falling open in fake offense. “You’re so dramatic!”

Harry smiled, then, both dimples poking deeply into his cheeks as he reached to take the carton from your hands. You two finished mixing the batter, taking a bit too long to get it inside the oven as you enjoyed pestering Harry in the process a bit too much. Every so often someone walked into the kitchen to pick up some drinks or leave dirty dishes by the sink, checking in on the both of you with that smile adults always give you when you’re with Harry (usually followed by some corny joke about young love that made you roll your eyes).

It was the day of one of the barbecue parties your parents always threw at the beginning of summer break. They would invite their closest circle of friends to spend the day in your back garden, usually followed by a ‘luau’ (as your dad called it, even though it was definitely not a luau) once your parents got tipsy enough to bring out the guitars and light up a fire. 

When everyone was a tad lethargic from lunch, relaxing back into their chairs as the sun felt hotter as it shone proudly on the cloudless sky, you had the idea of baking your nan’s recipe of blueberry muffins.

Usually, the tradition of baking a dessert to be freshly served in the afternoon was left to your mum and sister -- who was almost passing the age in which she wanted to have a hand in everything to call attention to herself. But you were faster this time, volunteering to do the task, and dragging Harry with you, as you were eager to have some time alone with him without having someone interrupting to ask him yet another football question that left you bored out of your mind.

So, you take advantage of having the kitchen to yourselves, bumping your hips against his as you two swept the counter quietly, cleaning the mess you’d made earlier. Your aunt had just left the kitchen after making one of those comments regarding marriage that are meant solely to embarrass both of you, and a faint blush was still visible on his cheeks. It made you want nothing more than to reach up and press your lips to them, only to feel the spot of his dimple deepening with a smile.

The air was smelling sweeter when you threw the dirty cloth inside the sink, leaning back into the island as you watched Harry crouch to peek inside the oven. You couldn’t help the grin as you noticed the muffins spilling out of their cases as expected. 

“Told you it would work out.”

“I don’t know how you do it.” He stood, resting a hand on the counter next to you, leaning into it. “Do absolutely everything wrong but still manage to make it work.”

“Hey!” You giggled, pushing him softly with your hand as you dragged out the word. “I did absolutely everything right just… In my own way.”

“Yeah?” His finger twirled on the hook of your jeans, pulling at it as he moved to stand in front of you, keeping a hand resting on the counter next to your waist. “The world bends its rules for you, it seems.” Pressing a peck at the corner of your mouth, he mumbled, lips close enough that you could feel every word caressing your skin, “Don’t blame it, though.”

You chuckled. “Oh? Do you bend your rules for me too?”

“Of course,” His nose tickled the apple of your cheek, causing you to shrug your shoulder slightly. You felt his warm breath as he exhaled a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Would never let anyone else butcher a batch of muffins in my presence like you just did.”

“Harry!” You cried out, shoving him off playfully. “I’m never baking for you ever again, you can starve during lunch from now on, see if I care.”

He laughed again, leaning down to bite the tip of your nose before you quickly tried to push him away. “Stop, baby, you know I’m just joking.”

“Too late now, you already lost your dessert privilege.”

“Ouch.” Harry pouted, attempting to pull his puppy eyes to get you to budge, but you simply raised your brows at him, chewing your inner cheek to prevent a smile from growing on your face. He started to lean down to press his lips on yours but he could barely move before the doors leading outside slid open again, startling both of you, causing Harry to quickly step back.

Your sister’s face peeked up curiously from her spot at the door frame, a juvenile smile teasing at her lips at the scene she’d just interrupted.

“What do you want, Ly?”

Lyla shot you a condescending look from your harsh tone, “I’m not here for you, dumb face.” She took out her tongue, and you rolled your eyes — sometimes she’s too much of a thirteen-year-old. “Auntie Sue said you were done and Harry promised to help me with a project.”

“A project?” You raised your brows, glancing at the boy next to you who was already adorning a guilty smile on his face.

“I did promise that.”

“It’s a secret project!” Lyla’s voice raised to a higher pitch.

“Okay, then.” You sighed, looking between the two of them before setting your eyes on Harry again. The pout is clear in your voice as you speak up,

“Seems like your presence is being required.” You nod towards Harry’s vibrating phone that sits on top of the table behind the two of you.

“Oops, sorry.” He shoots you a guilty smile before reaching over his shoulder for the device.

You avert your eyes as he glances down at the screen, focusing on the sunrays that peek from between the leaves of your green fence, painting the tips of the grass gold. It’s been just over a month since your first coffee date (you only call it that for lack of a better word) and, with summer just around the corner, the days are beginning to stretch longer. The sun is still bright and proud as the afternoon meets the evening. There’s a warmth that’s not yet too insufferable, but more like welcomed after months of endless drizzle and sharp winds. 

It’s perfectly fitting for a nice lazy day like this one. 

This is the first time you got to properly have him around for the day. Despite Harry having wrapped his term just about a week ago and your agenda keeping you in London for the next few months, both your schedules only seem to have gotten tighter. You spend most of your time during the week inside the recording studio — the sessions dragging into the evening hours more often than not, as you find yourself too caught up with them. Meanwhile, Harry’s back to working his regular working hours now that Act One has officially started working on the productions for the summer season.

Surprisingly, though, you fell into a routine of sorts quite easily. You still chat every day, not limiting your communication to texting alone (though you still love receiving Harry’s random pictures throughout the day), but also making phone calls most days once both of you have finally settled in bed after long working hours. And it’s not like you’re not able to see each other with these scheduling complications, it’s only that those hangouts are limited to either weekends or early evenings. 

On the two-week mark, after you met again, you could finally take him to the proper coffee hangout that you’d promised. The cafe in question is one you’ve been going to for over a year now. A friend recommended it, and you instantly loved it for how hidden it is, and most frequented by an older audience — which means you’re able to sneak in and out with no hassle. You took Harry there on a Sunday morning, and it surprised you to find that the place is actually much closer to his flat than your house. So, after cups of iced coffee and shared muffins, you two walked all the way to his place, enjoying the laziness that allows people to sleep in as the week reaches an end.

That was one of your favorite days with him. It had been a long while since you allowed yourself to simply relax during a walk; forgetting how it feels to be aware of every corner you turn. That’s the easy thing about being with Harry, you’ve found the simple concept of relaxing. He allows you to let your guard down, to enjoy those things you’ve once taken for granted. The ones that bring a sense of normalcy that can easily be overlooked by those who don’t get to experience the other side of it. It’s something you’re sure Harry doesn’t even realize he’s brought back to your life, but you still show your silent gratitude in any way you can.

It’s what made you invite him to your house for lunch in the first place. It didn’t go unnoticed to you how most times you end up back in his flat and, as much as he repeats how he enjoys your presence there, it doesn’t stop you from feeling the slightest bit self-conscious about it. 

“Shit.” Harry mutters under his breath, his fingers tapping swiftly on the screen, a frown deepening on his face.

Raising your brows, you wait a second before speaking up, afraid of interrupting whatever it is that has him alarmed, “Everything alright?”

“Julia’s making dinner tonight.” He replies, eyes scanning the device in his hands before sighing. “Completely forgot.”

“Oh. Is it, like-” You pause, glancing down at your phone that’s left forgotten in your lap, pressing the home button to check the time. The screen lights up, letting you know it’s just around six, meaning Harry’s been over for just about seven hours now. “Shit, I’m so sorry, didn’t mean to keep you-”

“Don’t apologize.” He locks his phone, shooting a reassuring smile your way. “My fault, really. Just completely slipped off my mind.”

You nod, watching him gnawn at his bottom lip, brows meeting in a frown as he gets deep in thought. Parting your lips. You don’t let any word out at first, afraid that if you do, he’ll remember it's time for him to go back. There’s a selfish voice in your head that wants to ask him to stay a bit longer, to not part ways yet, to just call off on this dinner. But you know better than to say any of it out loud, opting to suck in your lips instead, as if the words could just slip out without your consent.

Harry sighs, and you can’t help but let your shoulders fall, knowing what’s coming. “I should get going.” He picks up his empty glass, pocketing his phone as he stands with a huff. “Julia’s not very happy that I’m late.” He chuckles. “Again.”

Laughing, you get up from your chair as well, patting the back of your thighs as you feel your skin a bit sore from sitting for so long. Before you can answer him, however, your attention snaps towards the opened door leading to your kitchen, as a small figure comes rushing towards you. You feel the soft fur against your legs before you can properly register the pup circling you. Once you realize what’s going on, as the familiar black spaniel greets you, you freeze in your spot, glancing from the dog that now jumps excitedly on Harry’s legs to the door where he came from.

“You didn’t tell me you had a pup.” Harry smiles, his voice getting a higher pitch as he kneels to pet behind his ears. “Hey buddy, where did you come from?”

“I don’t.” You reply, walking towards the house as you search for the owner who’s likely already found her spot in the kitchen.

“Huh?” You hear from behind you as you stride towards the house. 

Surely, as predicted, you spot her hiding halfway inside your fridge, back turned to you. You notice how Bella’s blonde locks are way shorter since last time you saw her — now stopping just above her shoulders. As surprised as you are, you don’t comment on it, simply staring at your intruder of a friend as you try to figure the situation in hand. 

This isn't exactly how you’d planned to introduce Harry to your friend group. Well, shit.

Bella doesn’t pay any mind to you at first, but certainly senses your presence as she speaks out from over her shoulder. “Hey, did you not buy any more greek yo- Oh.” She stops as she turns, just in time when Harry walks in with the dog cradled in his arms. Her eyes jump between the two of you as she pushes the fridge’s door to a close. “Hi.”

“Hello.” You shoot her a look.

Harry puts the pet down, “Hi.”

“Uhm,” You stand awkwardly, playing with the rings hugging your fingers. Bella raises her brows in a silent question and you sigh. It’s not like you can do anything now. “Harry, this is my friend, Bella. Bella, this is Harry.” You motion your arms between them as you introduce one another.

Harry clears his throat. And you can only suppose how confused he must be, considering you mentioned nothing about a friend visiting today. But it’s not like you were aware of it, either. Bellas and you are at that point in your friendship in which you don’t find the need to announce your visits anymore, simply making yourselves at home every time both of you are in town.

He glances at you for a second, before nodding at your friend. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” She grins politely. There’s a beat of quietness that no one really knows what to say next, and you can feel a silent pressure for you to break it. When you don’t, Bella points vaguely to a spot behind her, “Uh, I can come back tomorrow…”

Your lips part as you try to stop her, but before you can do so, Harry beats you to it.“You don’t have to, really. I was just leaving, actually.” He scratches his nose. “I don’t mean to intrude on anything you two have planned…” 

“Oh, no, that’s not it!” Bella rushes.

“We have nothing planned.” You assure him, glancing between your friends. “Bella just comes to visit whenever she’s in London.”

“Yeah, I was the one interrupting.” She backs you up, clicking her tongue. “Should’ve called first.”

"That's okay.” You tell her.

“Well, I hope you two enjoy the rest of your day, then.” Harry nods, eyes meeting yours as he mutters, “I really need to get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You say, “I’ll take you to the door.”

With one last wave to Bella, he follows you as you guide the way towards the front door. You open it for Harry, allowing him to step out first before you let it close behind you — as to avoid the dog from running out. Leaning back against it, you shoot him a small smile.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was coming.” You point back. “She has the keys so…”

“That’s fine.” He reassures, hands hiding inside the pocket of his jeans. There’s a second of silence, as you two just enjoy each other’s presence for a little before having to bid your goodbyes. You can’t help but let your eyes fall to his shirt once again — although being a simple white tee, the words I spread like strawberries embroidered to it have been haunting you all afternoon. Once your eyes move up again, you don’t find his, as he glances down at his shoes, a cute reddish tone painting the apple of his cheeks. When he speaks up, he peaks up at you from under his lashes, “I had a lovely time, as usual.”

“Me too.” You bite down a smile, tilting your head. “As usual.”

He nods, looking over his shoulder before back at you. Chewing down the side of his lip, he asks, “I’ll see you?”

You try to think of a date to give him, knowing as summer progresses your schedule will only get tighter with the studio sessions. “Uhm, probably sometime at the end of the week, maybe? I’m a bit busy, but I’ll let you know.”

“Alright.” He nods, staring for a second before stepping forward to embrace you into a hug. “Take care, love.” His words come out a bit muffled as he squishes his face on the crook of your neck.

You giggle as the strands of his hair tickle the side of your face. “You too, H.” 

Pulling away, he steps backward, pointing at you in a playful warning. “Still owe me a lemon tart.”

“Gotcha.”

Taking a deep breath, you watch for a bit longer as he walks away, waving a last goodbye before disappearing back inside your house. You give yourself a moment to prepare for the wave of questions waiting for you as soon as you step back into the kitchen. 

You find Bella twirling on a stool propped next to the island, spoon in her mouth and an open package of greek yogurt sitting on the counter. As soon as you walk in, she stops, pulling the spoon out as her brows shoot towards her hairline. She doesn’t wait a second before questioning, “So…” A smirk grows on her face and she points vaguely with her spoon to a spot behind you. “Harry?”

You groan, taking a seat next to her. “You were not supposed to walk in on that.”

“Well, I’m sorry! How was I supposed to know?”

“I don’t know, maybe try calling?”

“I never call before coming here.” She challenges, and it’s true. Picking a spoonful of yogurt and shoving into her mouth, she watches you for a second. You simply glance back, aware of her expectant stare attempting to pry you to speak up first. You watch her swallow, lips quirking as you refuse to give what she wants. She raises her brows again, this time voicing her question, “Is he…?”

You shake your head at her implication. “No, he’s… A friend.”

“That was a pause.”

“Well, he was my ex before he was my friend.”

“An ex? Is he-” Bella frowns for a bit and you can almost see the wheels inside her head turning. “Holy shit! Is he The Harry?”

Now it’s your turn to form a crease between your brows, confused. You don’t recall ever mentioning Harry to her. “Don’t know what you mean by The Harry, but, yes, he was my first boyfriend.”

“You’ve told me about him before.”

“Have I?” You blink at her. “When?”

She thinks for a second before pointing the spoon in her hand at you.“Yes! It was in one of your Halloween parties- actually, right after it.” She looks over at you, only to find a confused expression still settled on your face. “The one we had a sleepover, and I broke your lamp.”

“That was two years ago, yeah, I remember.” As much as your Halloween parties have a tendency of meshing together in your memory (as they’re mostly the same apart from one or two remarkable occurrences), this one in particular you remember quite well as it was the first time Bella slept over at your house. In the middle of the night, she knocked on your room to ask you if she could sleep with you. Her words were coming mumbled because of the alcohol still affecting her bloodstream. The two of you barely slept a tick that night, as you spent hours whispering stories to each other and, at one point, she got so excited as she was telling you about some sort of vacation she had taken (you don’t remember it that well) that she elbowed your lamp causing it to shatter as it fell. You try to rack your brain to find any recollection of mentioning Harry that day, but all that comes to you is the two of you falling into a fit of giggles when you told her about a past hookup of yours. This only causes your frown to deepen. “The party, I mean. I don’t remember mentioning Harry.”

“You were drunk.” She shoves her spoon inside the yogurt as she speaks. “Was sitting at one of the patio chairs, scrolling down on your Instagram page and you saw a picture of him, think you said it was his sister’s profile? I don’t know. But you were whiny for like an hour because of it.”

“What?” So it was at the party? You have a flash of panic, wondering who else was there to hear you whine over your ex boyfriend. “I have absolutely no recollection of this.”

“It was cute, really.” She tries to comfort you, still focusing on her pot of dairy. “You didn’t say much- you weren’t making a lot of sense, really, but I remember you saying he was the first person you were in love with. Didn’t know he was your first boyfriend.”

You fall back into your seat. “Yeah… That’s him.”

“How long were you together?” Bella glances back at you, brows peaking in curiosity. 

“Almost four years.”

“What?” Her eyes bulge. “How come you never told me that?”

“Don’t know, was a bit of a sensitive topic, I guess.” You know it was. The only reason why you refrained from mentioning him to anyone for a long time was because of the tightness in your chest that followed the sound of his name. “But yeah, we started dating right after his fourteenth birthday.” The memory comes to you as a smile. “His birthday’s in February and he asked me on Valentine’s day, was really cute. I don’t think anyone thought it would last that long at the time.”

“That’s super sweet.” She whines, her shoulders falling as she huffs. “Ugh, I hate love.”

You chuckle. “Same.” 

“So you broke up when you were, what, eighteen?”

“Yup.” 

“Was it because of distance and stuff?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” You think back to the time you two started drifting apart, a thought you haven’t revisited in a long time. “We were already very distant even when we were together.” Shrugging, you try to push back the heaviness in your chest. “Guess we were just meant to go different ways.”

"That's poetic.” She nods. You assume she’s noticed the way your voice has taken a lower tone, as her own grows a pitch, shoving you as she tries to cheer you up. “But now you’re together again!”

Breathing out a laugh, you roll your eyes slightly. “We’re friends.”

“Right.” She doesn’t sound convinced. “But, you know, you went each your own way and somehow crossed paths again. Do you know what that’s called?”

You close your eyes, already familiar with your friend’s antics. “Bella…”

“Fate.”

“Oh my god.” You shake your head at her, hoping she doesn’t notice the blush that creeps up your neck.

“I’m just saying, if I were you, I wouldn’t let this opportunity escape.” She bites down her empty spoon to hide the smirk that grows on her lips. The way her brows wiggle before she says anything allows you to prepare for what's to come. “I mean, with all due respect, he is very fine.”

“I knew it was coming.” You pucker your lips to avert from smiling, trying to seem casual before confessing, “But yes, he looks really good.”

“The long hair? The tattoos? Girl!” Her eyes widen. “If he wasn’t your ex, I would’ve been saying some really inappropriate stuff right now.”

You groan, hiding your face behind your hands. “Please, don’t.”

“I said ‘would’!” She emphasizes the word as she tries to pull your hands away from covering your eyes. “I’m only thinking about it, relax.”

Rolling your eyes again, you nod towards her half-empty pot. “Eat your yogurt.”

//

The air inside the flat somehow is warmer than the outdoors. The large windows opposite the kitchen are wide open to have some sort of breeze flowing around to relieve the heat coming from the stove. A generic scent of fried dough dances around the small space with it. It’s one that Harry recognizes from past times that Julia’s made the dish, and it makes his mouth water as soon as he steps inside.

Julia’s at her spot in the kitchen taking care of the food, her back turned to him as she bumps her hips along with the beat of a song he doesn’t recognize. Next to her, Harry recognizes Mitch’s back reaching for the small pile of plates inside the cabinet with Blake standing right behind (he assumes because she’d asked for his help with the task, considering she usually has a hard time reaching the last shelves). 

Their voices mesh together as they seem too lost in their conversation to notice Harry’s arrival. Right as the door clicks closed, however, Blake takes the plates from Mitch’s hands, turning to catch Harry right as he toes-off his shoes.

“Look who’s decided to show up!” She speaks up, calling the attention of both friends that still stood oblivious of the boy that now sports a guilty smile. Blake raises her brows at him, setting the plates on top of the island counter. “For what do we owe this honor?”

“Finally!” Julia barges before Harry can even start with the apology he went over in his head during the entire tube ride. “I was completely outnumbered in this discussion. Tell them that our plates are nice!”

He stops right by the edge of the kitchen tiles, furrowing his brows at his friends’ request. “What?”

Harry tries to search for an explanation from Mitch, who simply leans back onto the counter with his arms crossed, and an amused smirk painting his lips as he nods towards Julia.

The girl has turned back to the stove, a colander spoon in her hand moving the pastries around inside the pan filled with oil. She huffs before she explains, eyes trained on the stove, “They’re being incredibly rude, calling our plates tacky!”

Without even looking at the plates in question, Harry chuckles. “Oh, is it the floral ones?”

He confirms his assumptions when glancing at the dishes set on top of the island counter. The collection was sent by her parents around the new years after her visit for the holidays — she’d told them about how they cracked most their dishes at the edges and they sent in a full set as a replacement. And, as much as both of them found the action heartwarming ly thoughtful, they both had a good laugh upon opening the box when it first came in. 

Because they were, after all, a bit tacky. 

Each has its edges painted with a different color, with matching roses circling around it. To make matters worse, the center of them have each a different phrase. Harry couldn’t make sense to them at first, as they’re written in Portuguese, but from what Julia’s translated it doesn’t go far from those catchphrases you can find at the Live, Laugh, Love side of Pinterest.

That’s something Julia very openly makes fun of her parents about; what she says is their lack of taste for just about everything. And Harry was very aware of the fact, not only by the way she teases them to no end about it but also by her choices of presents to send back home (for instance, that god awful umbrella -- may it rest in pieces). With their time together as flatmates, it’s almost become somewhat of an inside joke between the two of them. 

But, as much as both of them have taken the piss about it before, they still have a fondness heavily attached to them. So it’s understandable Julia’s annoyance at their friends’ tease, especially when both bark into laughs at Harry’s question.

“You’re not helping!” Julia throws him a look from over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to confirm!” Harry raises his hands in surrender as he watches the girl roll her eyes before focusing back on the pan in front of her. He pulls one stool next to the one Blake’s taken for herself, sitting on it before glancing down at the dish in front of him. He spins it slightly with the tip of his finger, watching the yellow roses move with it. “But Jul’s right, stop attacking our plates.”

“I wasn’t attacking them, if I have any right to a replica.” Mitch moves from his spot to take the stool in front of Harry. “If I recall correctly, I even said they were very charming.”

“Your sarcasm doesn’t impress me, Rowland,” Julia replies from her spot, not looking back. “Just say they're ugly already! Since you guys hate them so much!”

Blake shoots Harry a knowing look, a smile poking at her lips from being too used to her girlfriend’s dramatics. She pushes her stool back, standing before she walks over towards the grumpy girl who’s now focusing on taking out the pastries and laying them on a trail that’s covered with napkins. Embracing her from behind, she presses a kiss between Julia’s shoulder blades before whispering something just for her to hear.

Harry watches them for a second, not helping the part of him that wishes he could have someone like they do. It verges a tragedy, he thinks, to be a hopeless romantic and not be in love.

"Food is ready!" Julia speaks up, her voice this time taking a higher pitch. Harry doesn’t miss the look the couple exchanges before finding their seats across from each other.

Julia sets the trail in the center. The pastries take a half-circle shape and are organized neatly in two rolls, their golden crust looking very appealing, making Harry realize how hungry he actually is.

“So, explain to me,” Mitch begins, nodding towards the dish. “What are those guys?”

“These, my dear, are called pastel- you know, like the color shade,” Julia explains, picking up one of them. “They’re basically, like, a pastry. You can stuff them with anything you want, really. I made the most common ones which are cheese- the ones on this roll- and meat.” She points to the rolls showing where each one line. “We usually have them as, like, a snack, but I was really missing them so I made it for dinner. And we also eat it with sugarcane juice, but y’all don’t have it here,” She shakes her head. “Tasteless.”

“Sugarcane juice?” Mitch raises his brows.

Julia goes into one of her rants that Harry’s heard about a hundred times before by now — the ones that come up every time she talks about her country, which he finds rather cute how passionate she gets when talking about her culture. His head shuts off for a bit, though, already knowing the information by heart, as he focuses on his groaning stomach. 

For a moment, they just eat while having more of a casual chat. Julia rambles for a good portion of it about her life back home, and, soon enough, they all share their own experiences that make them miss their hometowns. It makes for a nice bonding experience, four people from different spots in the world that found themselves in London at the same time. All sharing a meal as they recall the parts of them they left behind when they choose to leave. For a moment, Harry forgets all about the apology he’d rehearsed on the way back from your house. 

It doesn’t even slip into his mind how he escaped any sort of immediate interrogation about his whereabouts. He’s even naïve enough to think that maybe Julia’s even forgotten about it as well, thanks to the plates’ discussion. 

Harry soon finds himself to be wrong, though. And the worst of it all, it catches him completely off guard.

The group has just quietened down from a story Mitch’s told from back in the days he used to work in a pizza place. Blake’s just offered to clean up the dishes, standing from her stool as she collects the plates. Harry hands her his, glancing at her as he mutters a quick ‘thank you’. He doesn’t notice the way Julia stares at him, eyes narrowed and lips puckering, as she leans into the counter. It only calls his attention once she speaks up, her words coming out slow but almost calculated, as if she’s been thinking about voicing them for a while, “So, H, are you gonna tell us what’s up?”

He doesn’t realize what she’s referring to at first, only furrowing his brows in his confusion. “Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me, Styles, you’re hiding something.” She points at him and that’s when he realizes, breath hitching on his throat. “And I think that something’s actually a someone, so spill.”

He hears Blake chuckling from her spot at the sink. “Guess we’re going straight to the point, then.”

Harry tries to even his breath, holding back the urge to bite down at his bottom lip as not to show he’s nervous. “What makes you think that?”

Julia grins as if she’s been waiting for him to ask that. “Well, should we go over the list? You suddenly have a life outside, barely stay at home, you’re almost always late to hang out— and that’s coming from me, a Brazilian- oh! You’ve also been baking?” She puts out a finger at each topic on the list, emphasizing the last word as if it’s the most absurd concept to grasp. “And I caught you taking a selfie the other night, which would be odd on itself if I wasn’t sure that you sent it to someone right after.”

Harry nods slowly. “Okay. You kept a list.”

“So?”

“I-” He feels himself panicking, not knowing how to explain himself. On one hand, he hates lying, especially to people he loves. He also knows how upset Julia gets when people lie to her, considering honesty is one attribute she values the most in a person. So the prospect of not only going against one of his own principles but also letting down one of his closest friends, almost makes him sick. But he gave you his word that he would not tell anyone until you were ready to do so. And he wants to keep his word and respect your wishes, knowing that if he doesn’t, it could mean losing everything he’s gotten back these past months. It could mean losing you. So for a moment, he stays there, lips parted but not saying anything. There’s gotta be some sort of middle ground.  “There’s… Someone, and-”

A loud thud comes as Blake drops one plate inside the sink, turning around with wide eyes and soapy hands. “What?”

“I knew it!” Julia slaps her hand on the counter as she exclaims, her mouth dropping in the shape of an ‘O’. “I knew it! How do you get a girlfriend without mentioning it to me? I thought we were friends?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” Harry blurts out.

“How could you keep this from us?” Blake comes to stand behind her girlfriend, her face still wide in shock before she turns to Mitch. “Did you know about this?”

“I did not have any involvement in this, no.”

Julia continues her inquiry, “Who is it?”

“Jul-”

She interrupts Harry before he can properly form a word, “Is it that girl from work? The one that had a crush on you? What’s her name again-”

“Julia, please.”

“Alice!” She snaps her finger, her grin widening as she looks at him as if she just solved an enigma. “It's her, isn’t it? Did you finally make a move? Oh my god.”

“I- It’s-” Harry’s fully panicking now, eyes moving quickly between his friends as they stare at him, waiting for a confirmation. Is this the middle ground he wanted? No, he thinks to himself. This will only make things worse. He should just say he wants to keep it private for now. It would annoy them, sure, but they’d have to understand, right? It’s the rational thing to do. But Harry’s not working with rationality at the moment, and his mouth works before his brain does, “Y-yeah, it’s her.”

Blake gasps. “Harry!”

“I can’t believe you!” 

He needs to fix this. “We’re not dating.” 

“Yet.” She points before squealing, reaching a hand over her shoulder to hold Blake’s wet ones while placing her other over her heart. “Look at you! They grow so fast…”

“Please, don’t.”

“Babe, let him breathe for a bit.” Blake breaks her hand from her girlfriend’s grasp, reaching for a napkin and using it to dry her hands. She smiles at him, “I would like to see a picture of her, though.”

Before he has the chance to answer, Julia’s already talking, “You should’ve invited her to come today! There’s enough food-”

“No, it’s… Uh, it’s not like that.” Harry tries to come up with something to explain himself as not to dig a deeper hole than he already has put himself in.

Blake frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Just-” He pauses, glancing between his friends. They all show different stages of confusion. “We’re taking things slow.”

Julia rolls her eyes, “Harry, you’re already the slowest person I know.” She states as a matter-of-fact, shaking her head at him. “With your pace, we’re getting this relationship announcement in five years.”

He huffs, the insistence annoying him a bit. Maybe it’s because he knows the more they keep this subject, the deeper the hole he can get himself in. So he simply avoids feeding more into it, choosing to ask her instead,  “Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me in a relationship?” His eyes meet Blake’s in a silent plea for an intervention.

“Because I want to have cute double dates!” Julia whines.

Mitch deadpans, “What’s this, then?”

“Okay! We have desert!” Blake seems to find her cue to barge in, clapping her hands together before continuing, “And it’s made of chocolate!”

Harry smiles at her, shooting her a look of gratitude. “Chocolate sounds perfect.”

“Sounds marvelous,” Mitch adds.

Julia, however, is not dumb. She narrows her eyes slightly. “You guys are changing the subject.”

Her girlfriend barely bats an eye at her statement, though, only squeezing her shoulder gently, “Babe, why don’t you tell Mitch about brigadeiro? I’m sure he’ll love to hear it.”

The girl sighs, shooting Harry another knowing look before giving up on the subject for the time being. He only gives her a small smile, watching as she begins to tell Mitch all about desert. 

Well, he really dug himself a hole with this one.

//

Harry loves Sundays.

This is funny enough of a statement, considering how he used to despise it when he was younger. Back when he knew it meant that he’d have to be up early the next day to walk the cracked sidewalk leading to his school, fighting to keep his eyelids halfway open. The entire day would feel like a countdown (just eight more hours until the weekend’s over!). The only thing that made the day the slightest bit enjoyable was that he used to visit his nan every Sunday right after breakfast. He still remembers how he and his cousins would sit in front of the telly with their toys scattered around them, the entire house adorned with the scent of vanilla.

He’s not sure exactly when the switch of opinion for the day happened, but he knows that you’re one of the main reasons for it. Sunday’s were your days. They were the only days in which you were sure to be free from babysitting duties with your sister, hence why there was a silent agreement that settled between both of you to spend it together. So you reserved Sundays for the two of you. And Harry’s sure some of his fondest memories with you happened on a Sunday.

So it was hard not to love the day when it brought you to him every time.

Although years have passed, his attachment to the day hasn’t faded. Especially now, when you seem to fit back into his Sundays just as perfectly as you used to. 

The cafe smells just like his nan’s house used to when he first walks in - the only major difference being the scent of coffee that meshes with the vanilla in the air. It’s the third time he comes with you here and, just like the previous ones, there’s a surprisingly low movement for it being mid-morning. Most of the customers that frequent it, as you’d informed him the first time you took him there, are elders. There’s a couple right at the door enjoying the cloudless day at the chess table that’s carefully prompted just outside the cafe that bids good morning as the younger pair passes by, not paying much attention to them. Meanwhile, inside, the other four or five customers that sit scattered around the armchairs barely bat an eye towards them as they walk in, focusing only on their newspapers or crossword magazines that sit in front of them as they quietly sip on their drinks.

Despite you not sharing loads with him regarding your public image, from what he could gather, it’s clear how much you value your privacy. So it’s easy to understand why you enjoy coming here, as your presence comes and goes as just another one. 

And he quite enjoys it too, especially noticing how carefree you get in a space you’re comfortable with. Usually, on other few occasions, the two of you go out to public spaces that you’re not as used to, it’s clear how alert you are, even if you’re enjoying yourself. You limit yourself to plain clothes to not call any attention, always with what’s become your signature big sunglasses shielding part of your face -- you even wore them when you went to the cinema to which, although Harry understood the reason for, he didn’t refrain from teasing you about it. 

But today, you abandoned the hoodies and large shirts in various shades of grey. Harry knows the riskiest part of your day in being recognized would be the short walk from his building to the cafe. Still, that thankfully didn’t stop you from going back to your usual wardrobe. Instead, you’re wearing a white dress with red stripes lining along your curves, the skirt flowing all the way down your calves, showing the white sneakers covering your feet. The sunglasses are still present, of course, but you quickly push them up as soon as you walk inside.

Harry watches for a second as your eyes scan the menu written on the wall behind the counter, chuckling to himself as he knows you’re still going for the same order as usual. Before you can step closer to voice your order, however, he says, “Go find a table, I’ll get your order.”  You glance up at Harry, brows shooting up, challenging. “Medium iced coffee and a chocolate muffin.” He grins proudly as he recites your order. “Anything else?”

“No, that's it.” You bite back a smile. “You’re not paying for me, though.”

Of course, you’re insisting, he thinks, already shaking his head. “You paid last time and the time before that and, if I recall correctly, you didn’t let me have a say in it when I tried to intervene in either of them.” Harry pokes your side, nodding towards the table area. “So, go get a table. I’ll be right there.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you stay silent for a beat, clearly debating whether to keep insisting. “Fair enough.” You sigh, walking backward as you point at him. “But I’m paying next time.”

Chuckling, he keeps his eyes on you for a tick longer to catch where you’ve sat, his face warming the slightest bit once you throw him a wink as you settle back in the chair. Once he places the orders for the both of you, he notices some drawings stuck to the wall behind the counter as he waits for them to be done with. They all have a clear childlike trace to them, some more than others, and Harry assumes the more abstract one must’ve been done by a younger child. He smiles to himself, finding it an adorable addition to the place, even if it could easily go unnoticed by an inattentive eye.

“They’re from my granddaughter.” The barista smiles at Harry as he places two cups on top of the counter, nodding back towards the artwork that caught his attention. “Just turned eight. Loves drawing.”

“They look lovely.” 

“This one, actually,” The barista points to one that seems to be more recent, as it’s stuck on top of the others. It shows what looks like two girls holding hands; a smaller one holding a heart on her free hand, and a taller one with a star on top of her head. The man nods to a spot over Harry’s shoulder, “It’s her and your friend, she’s a big fan.”

“Really?” Harry’s lips part in surprise. “That’s very sweet.”

“It’s how I found out she was known.” The man lets out a low laugh, opening the display to reach for a muffin. “Millie was proper mad that I didn’t know who she was when she came to visit, but your friend was a sweet thing, signed her shirt and everything.”

Harry smiles at the story. “Sounds like her.”

“Sure does, seems like a lovely lady.” The man’s attention gets called as the front door opens with a ding. He shoots Harry one last smile, “Duty calls. Enjoy your coffee.”

Harry reaches for the cups with one hand, picking up your pastry with the other. “You too, have a good one.” He feels the words slip before he can register them and, as he realizes his mistake, he quickly turns to head for the table, eyes wide and a blush tainting his cheeks.

You lock your phone, setting it down as soon as Harry approaches the table. He sees a grin twitching on your lips as you glance up at him and he avoids your gaze, knowing it’ll only worsen the warmth on his face.

“What’s got you all flustered?” You ask, your voice verging a laugh.

“Stop.” He scratches his nose in a nervous tick. “Just told that man to enjoy his coffee.”

“Oh, no.” You burst into a fit of giggles and he peeks up at you, holding back a laugh himself as he shakes his head — he loves making you laugh. “C’mon, H, everyone does that. I’m sure he didn’t even notice.”

“Still embarrassing.”

“Just a bit.” Biting down at your bottom lip, you squint your eyes, pushing the muffin towards him. “Here, have a bite, you’ll forget all your problems.”

He breathes out another laugh, reaching to pick a piece of the sweet before shoving it into his mouth. Soon enough, his embarrassment gets lost in conversation, the rosy tone on his cheeks no longer making themselves present from shame but from laughing too hard from something you say. You two get lost in your little bubble for a good while, taking your time sipping on your drinks. Every so often, Harry steals a bite from your muffin — at first, he does it just to have a piece, but once he gets a reaction out of you, eyes narrowing at him adorably as you scrunch your nose in feign anger, he does it just to watch you.

There’s no better way of learning about you than watching, he’s found. One of the biggest changes that he noticed upon getting close to you again, is how you seem to have closed up in a way. And it’s difficult to catch on. He figures that someone who didn’t know you years ago probably doesn’t even realize how much of yourself you keep bottled up. You’re a rambler, that much is easy to pick up. But Harry’s realized that as much as that part of you remains intact, your chatters become much more superficial. You talk about specific events and memories but always narrate it as if you were a mere expectant. You rarely go into detail about your personal life all that much.

Apart from the day you were drunk on his bathtub, he’s barely got a glimpse of feelings regarding him. 

So, he resorts to picking up those bits and pieces you let escape without realizing. He enjoys noticing you (and he’s aware that’s a bit creepy of him, but he can’t help it). How you mention you light a candle before going to sleep cause it helps calm you down. How you refer to your friends with the fondest smile picking up on your lips (but also how you let slip out you only have a person or two that are close to you because getting to know new people makes you anxious). How you always smile at dogs whenever you are — sometimes you even wave at them. How you have the habit of circling your drink in your hand when you’re comfortable, much like you’re doing right now.

The last one always warms his chest. He’s realized you only do it when you let your guard down, allowing yourself to get lost in your world without having to be alert all the time. For all you know, the world outside this small table could’ve stopped spinning and neither of you would notice.

Maybe it’s why you don’t pay any mind to the two teenage girls that enter the cafe. Not until both of them stand right next to the table.

It’s the call of your name that snaps you out of your head. The girls barely blink as they stare down at you, their mouths agape in shock as they hold each other’s hands. “Is it you?”

Harry thinks there’s a flash of panic in your eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it comes. You smile as you stand, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way you turn your body slightly to shield him. “Last time I checked, that would be me, yes!” You chuckle. “What are your names?”

“I’m Lauren.” The taller one speaks up, her hand clutching her phone so tightly her knuckles are almost white. She looks down at the other one who simply stands there, wide eyes not leaving your figure for even a second. Once the other says nothing else, Lauren answers the question for her. “And she’s Georgia. She’s a bit nervous cause she’s a big fan.”

“That’s very sweet, thank you so much.” You tilt your head a bit. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too,” Georgia says, her voice trembling and the hold on her friend’s hand. “Uhm, do- could we- if it’s not too much of a bother, could we get a picture with you?”

“Uhm, I don’t think it’s the best time right now, I’m sorry, loves.” Your voice is soft as you talk to them, but it quickly takes a more joyous tone as you suggest, “But I’d love to sign something for you if you’d like?”

“Yeah, if you can! If not, it’s okay, really.” Georgia nods, the words all but stumble out of her mouth. “Sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s no problem at all! It’s a pleasure to get to meet both of you.” 

Harry tries to watch discreetly as not to call any attention to himself, recalling what you once said about not wanting headlines of the two of you. So he only peeks up when you turn to fetch a pen from inside your bag, meeting your eyes for a second before you turn your attention back to the young fans. You chat with them for a little as you sign their phone cases, and he can’t help the tug in his heart at seeing you being so attentive to them.

“There we go.” You say as you hand Lauren her phone.

“Thank you so much!” Georgia exclaims, and even from his spot, Harry can make out a glossiness in her eyes. You pull her into a hug. “You’re really, like, one of my favorite people.”

“I’m honored.” You giggle as you back away, giving her friend a hug as well. Softening your voice once again, you keep a gentle hold to the girl’s shoulder, “Just one more thing, I’m sorry to have to ask you that but, would you mind not posting about this location?”

“Of course!” They say in unison, and Georgia is quick to add, “I wasn’t planning to!”

“Thank you for understanding.” You nod with a smile. “It was really lovely meeting the two of you! Hope we get to see each other again. Enjoy your day.”

The girls bid their goodbyes to you, and you give them one last wave before retaking your seat. Harry observes how you keep an eye on them for a beat longer before meeting his gaze, an apologetic expression adorning your face.

“That was sweet.” 

You sigh, “That was unexpected.”

“Thought that kinda thing happened a lot.”

“It does, just-” You pause, frowning your lips slightly. “Never happened in here.”

You tap your fingers against the wood of the table in a nervous tick, bringing your other hand to your mouth as you bite down on the nail of your thumb. It’s clear how alarmed you’ve gotten now that the girls are gone, eyes scanning every bit of the room. Looking anywhere but to Harry’s own worried ones. He doesn’t need to be able to read minds to know that yours is probably rushing right now from a simple glance at your face.

He reaches for your hand on top of the table to call your attention. Once you snap your gaze back on his, you let your shoulders relax a bit. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah! It’s just…” You try to brush his worry off, glancing back at the entrance before sighing again. “Do you think we could take this back to your place? Is Julia there?”

He shakes his head to your last question, “Of course, it’s not that far, anyway.”

“Thank you.” Your expression softens as you move to gather your belongings hanging from the back of your seat. “I’m sorry, I always do this.” Your shoulders fall, the edge of your lips frowning down.

“Hey, how many times do I have to tell you?” He bumps his arm against yours as both of you stand to get you to relax. “You don’t have to apologize, I understand.”

“I appreciate it.” You nod, but the crease between your brows doesn’t ease. “I just want to avoid a possible mob in case they end up posting about the location.” 

Harry tries to ignore the way his heart drops at your words. He wonders how many times you’ve been caught in a situation like this that ended up badly. “I get it.” 

The way back to his building is much different than when you were coming to the cafe a few hours ago. It’s noticeable that you’re tense as soon as you step outside, the sunglasses earning a permanent spot on your face for the time being. Even with your eyes covered, however, Harry still notices how you take in your surroundings almost cautiously. He tries to bump his hips against yours every time you do it, trying to distract you from your worries. It helps, as you shoot him a smile every time, bumping your hips back.

Screams from a nearby park call both your attention as you get closer to his building. As the day approaches the late hours of the morning, people have decided to enjoy the rare dose of sunlight that gave a break to the frequent rainfalls that cloud the city. On the other side of the road, children run around in a playground as their parents watch them from near benches. A few runners make their laps on the sidewalk lining the edge of the block as well as dog-walkers that take more of a stride sort of walk.

“Such a nice day.” You say, glancing down at the floor ahead to allow your hair to cover a bit more of your face. “It’s a shame we have to go back inside.” 

It breaks his heart to hear the way your voice takes a lower tone. He tries to meet your eyes, “Can tell you’re beating yourself up about things out of your control.” Harry pitches your arm, his next words coming out in a playful warning, stretching the word as to get you to smile.  “Stop it.”

“I can’t help it.” You let out a humorless laugh, coming to a stop at a corner to wait for a red light so you can cross. He looks down at you, but you keep your gaze trained ahead. “It is kind of my fault, you know?”

Harry frowns. “Except it’s not.”

“Thank you for trying to make me feel better about it.” You give him a small smile, shaking your head. “But in a way, it is. I know it is. And I don’t mean to complain about it or anything! Cause I’m aware of how privileged I am to get to live my dream and all that… It just-” You shrug. “It’s not always a field of flowers, I guess.”

“You’re allowed to not love every second of it, doesn’t make you ungrateful.” He argues, his hand meeting your shoulder as he gently turns you to face him. “Especially when it comes to all this privacy stuff, you deserve to have your space.”

“I know that but...Well, I signed up for it, you know? I knew my life would never be just mine once I started getting big.” You adjust the glasses on your face. Harry’s close enough that, if he focuses, he can see your eyes under the dark lenses. “And in a way, I’m used to it now, I’ve learned how to live with it.” You sigh, frowning at your lips. “What makes me uneasy when stuff like this happens- what makes me want to keep a low profile when we’re out, it’s not to protect me. It’s to protect you.”

Him? “Me?”

“Yeah…” Your voice is small, almost shy as the confession leaves your lips. Clearing your throat, you avert your eyes down as you quick some loose pieces of concrete from the sidewalk. “It’s the same with my parents or to Lyla or anyone that doesn’t have a life like mine.” You explain in a rush, trying to cover the timidity that warms your cheeks. But when you continue, it’s still clear in your tone, as the words come from your lips in almost a shame, “You don’t deserve to be exposed to all of it just because you’re part of my life. It’s not fair to you.”

It takes Harry a second to let it sink in. To understand the whole reason behind your uneasiness when going out. Why you’re so adamant about keeping your ties to him a secret. Why you try to separate him from your public side.

All this time. You’re doing it to protect him.

There’s no denial of how the confession brings a tightness to his chest. He knows it’s not what you mean to do. But he can’t help it when you sound as if you could be a burden in his life — when, in reality, it couldn’t be the furthest away from the truth. So his shoulders lump as he watches you keep your gaze away from his again, lips frowning down as he uses every ounce of self-control within himself to not pull you to him.

Instead, he ducks his head, trying to find your eyes under the lenses of your glasses. When he speaks up, his words are soft, to embrace you in a way he can’t physically, “Is this why you get so stressed about going out in public? Why you asked me to not tell anyone?” You look up at him at the question and he adds, “To protect me?”

“Of course.” You reply as if it was obvious all along. “W- Did you think it was… Something else?”

“I-I don’t know.” From his peripheral vision, he can see cars coming to a halt as the streetlight turns red, but neither of you makes a move to keep walking. The world around doesn’t matter right now. “I think I just assumed you didn’t want the media assuming…” He motions vaguely with his hand. “Anything.”

“Well, yes, to protect you from that.”

“You-” He shakes his head incredulously. There’s no denial of the bouquet of butterflies that bloom on his stomach at the prospect of you wanting to protect him. At how you say it as if it’s obvious that you’d do it in the first place. Almost treating it as if it’s your duty to do so. But he also can’t help but feel the slightest bit of guilt from it, knowing how this is the main reason that gets you anxious when you’re together. His hand reaches for your shoulder again, caressing it in silent gratitude as his expression softens, “You don’t have to do that, to stress yourself because of me. Do you know that?” 

“But I do.” You’re quick to argue. “You don’t know what it’s like, H. People are brutal. I won’t have them pestering you. I won’t have that.” There’s a clear quiver in your voice at the last few words, and Harry has to fight back the lump on his own throat at the sound of it.

“Love-”

You push up your sunglasses so you can fully glance up at him, “I’m serious.” Your eyes are set, stern, as you lock them on his. But they’re also getting glossy at the edges. “I won’t let them get to you too.” You whisper.

“It’s not your duty, love.” Harry insists, hating how you’re clearly beating yourself up for it. “I can take care of myself in case anything happens.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The smile that tugs on your lips is weak, and you shake your head. “If you knew what it would be like...” You trail off.

“Is this why you don’t have any friends with- uh, a regular life?” Harry cringes at himself but doesn’t know how else to word this without making you feel abnormal.

You nod. “Pretty much, yeah.” 

“I understand where you’re coming from.” He says, eyes trained on yours as he wants you to take in every word that he speaks. “I do, but you maybe you shouldn’t allow those people to dictate your happiness.”

You give him a sad smile that twists his heartstrings. “That’s not what it is.”

“It’s what it seems like.” He argues, desperate to get you to understand where he’s coming from. 

The more he takes in the way your eyes water and your lips twist, shoulders falling almost in defeat — as if you’ve accepted the responsibility that you’ve weighed upon yourself — the more he has to hold back his own emotions. It’s clear the toll that this position takes on you; you’ve told him about it before. You’ve told him how you barely have anyone that you consider close — those in the industry being too worried about building their own careers on top of each other’s backs for you to be comfortable sharing any meaningful exchange (apart from very few exceptions). And now he knows why you don’t find these ties with people that have a life outside the spotlight.

 “Doesn’t it get lonely?” He questions out loud.

“All the time.” You let out a humorless laugh. “People don’t realize how lonely it can be to have a career like this.” It comes as a vent and you take a deep breath, your hand quickly coming up to wipe the sides of your eyes though there’s yet a tear to fall. “Like, yes, you have this big team with you, and everyone fawns over you everywhere you go, but-” You pause, exhaling. “After the shows, and the lights, and all that...In the end, when you go to bed, it’s just you and your pillow.”

Harry doesn’t stop himself now, taking the step to close the gap between the two of you, arms circling around you as he pulls you to him. “I hate that you have to feel like this.” He mutters into your hair, feeling you melt into him. Angling his head a bit so his voice doesn’t get muffled, he whispers, “From now on, you have me, yeah? If you ever need anything- anything, I’m just a call away.” 

You hug him tighter at the assurance, your own words coming in a breath that could have easily been missed if they weren’t spoken so close to his skin. “Thank you.”

//

“You should probably get that.”

Jack, your producer, nods towards your phone as it begins to vibrate on top of the wooden table again. You sigh from your spot on the couch, cursing silently whoever’s been blowing up your phone for the past ten minutes. Mondays in the studio are already hard enough to concentrate as it is - especially as you and Jack have been trying to get the guitar riff just right for the past hour - so to add your buzzing device to the mix feels like a cherry on top to your stress cake.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you reach for it. You wanted to wait until you were done to pay attention to whatever’s been going off so as to not lose your focus, but it seems like whoever’s been trying to reach out has been very adamant about your attention.

So you step outside, letting your eyes fall closed for a second as the outdoor breeze relaxes your senses a little. Jack’s balcony right outside his home studio is quite small and doesn’t stand very tall from the second floor, but you love how you can still have a view of a park close enough that the sunset in the back paints the full leaves of the trees gold. After a moment of peace, you sigh as you’re reminded of your duties once the phone in your hand vibrates once again.

Your brows all but meet as you take in the notifications on your screen. There are two missed calls from Sonia, and a couple of messages, not only from her but from your publicist as well. Opening up the chat, your tired eyes just give a quick scan over the words before falling on a link attached to them. Just before you click on it, you can feel your heart sink as you realize it’s a The Sun article.

“No, no, no, no, no.” You mutter to yourself as you wait for the page to load. When it does, you can feel every ounce you get cold as your dread shows itself to be true. What calls your attention first are the pictures, ones taken yesterday as you recognize your white and red striped dress. And you recognize the look of adoration in a click, perfectly timed when you took off your sunglasses. And worst of all, you recognize Harry, holding you close at the corner just before his building.

When you finally remind yourself to read the headline, you’re not sure how you don’t drop your phone all the way down at the words that stare back at you.

NEW ROMANCE? This year’s favorite breakthrough artist is spotted on a coffee date in London with a mysterious brunette!

//

AAAH It’s finally here!! I’m so sorry for taking so long with this one but I got very busy very suddenly at the end of the year but I promise next one will be here sooon!! As usual, if you enjoyed it please reblog and leave some feedback, I’m very excited to hear what’s everyone’s thoughts!! 

[dr3am-t3am]

dteam wing!au, bc literally nobody can stop me.

my brain spit this out this morning, and i was like “i could make this and nobody could stop me” and now it exists. i put so much less thought than i should’ve into this. i dont even care. if anybody asks, this is inspired by “Minecraft, but we’re always flying” or something, but that’s not true i just wanted to draw the boys with wings.

some notes under the cut: 

- Dream was definitely the design i actually thought about the most. I wanted something fast and maneuverable for him, but not super expected (like a falcon or something, which is kind of a moot point considering the other two are super stereotypical wing designs, but also do i really care? no.) so I was thinking something like a kingfisher or a hummingbird at first, but that didn't really fit either, and plenty of birds are fast but not really agile. I then went into swifts, which are the fastest horizontal flying birds and are. super fast and maneuverable,, but guess what? they aren't the fastest horizontal flying animals.

- bats are.

- these tiny bats go around flying at 100 mph, making crazy turns and such all the while. theyre insane.

- Brazilian free-tailed bats ! look them up

- anyways i didn’t want to use bats at first bc stereotypical “evil” connotations combined with dream’s,, uh,, tendencies? (every manhunt vid, but especially speed runner v. mutant. you Know.) seemed like a super cliche take, but like come on. it worked too well. crazy bat boy doing crazy bat boy things. imagine the pun potential. 

- so anyways. he’s a bat.

- to be honest, I dont know what universe this would really exist in, real life or minecraft, but both have a lot of potential so. i might do more with this, because i supposedly made this up based on “minecraft but we’re always flying” i’ll put it in the mc world for now but like. both seem like too much fun

- anyways

- Dream is as I said, crazy bat boy. He is still minorly afraid of heights,, not as much as he probably is in real life but like,, he isn’t the most comfortable with them. He does love flying though, and in typical bat fashion he does a lot of dodging and weaving through trees and other crazy stunts. Bat wings are super jointed and flexible, so he’s able to weave through super busy landscapes pretty easily,, much to George and Sapnap’s chagrin

- George is a barn owl ! Partly bc though I know nothing about harry potter but i know owls are a thing with wizards and stuff in general, and george is apparently The harry potter nerd in the dteam, and partly bc owls are the bird equivalent to cats and george is a cat if you've ever seen one. also, his stupid goggles look like giant owl eyes. it works ok ? 

- he’s not as fast a flier as dream and sapnap, but he’s still a very effective hunter. he can fly Silently and he uses that to his advantage a Lot. unfortunately, he’s still colorblind, but he’s still got really good vision. his night vision, especially, is super good, as is his hearing

- george has. Lorge wings. he’s pretty average size, same as in real life, but he’s shorter than both dream and sapnap and has Massive wings. they’re super fluffy too, making them look even bigger, and the resulting image results in george looking pretty small for how Massive his wings are, like a child that hasn’t really grown into their clothes yet. they are the absolute best wings to cuddle with, even though he doesn’t do that often, and when he gets startled he raises them automatically to look a lot bigger than he actually is, in that owl way of becoming a circle. dream and especially sapnap find it hilarious.

- sapnap’s a red tailed hawk ! he seems to suit a bird of prey really well, and I associate the color red and orange with him a lot. Sapnap’s a great flier and very much enjoys screwing around in the sky, often way higher than dream and george really like to go up. He’s a fast enough flier, definitely faster than george, but nowhere close to Dream if they’re flying horizontally. However, he Can dive, and he can dive very very fast. He dive-bombs george Constantly, and sometimes manages to pull one on Dream if he and George do the planning beforehand. it doesn’t always work because Dream’s a little weasel and can maneuver himself out of place Fast once he notices, but they Have pulled it off a few times and his reactions are Golden. 

- Sapnap is *pretty* chill, but if you trigger his territorial instincts then he can become and absolute pain to deal with. This, of course, is why you can very often find sapnap and dream flying and chasing each other because dream was being a little a-hole and stole sapnap’s stuff or something. (he’s also very protective of his friends, who he consider as his territory, or home, not that he’s gonna say it or anything.)

- when sapnap gets into Instinct Mode he also rarely does the red-tailed hawk screech, which usually is enough of a shock to kick him out of it as both george and dream laugh themselves silly. both george and dream get the most flak for being the loud ones,,, (not even bc of his bird, for george, but just bc. He’s George) but that Screech puts everyone else to shame,, it’s just,, So Loud. 

- dream, when he isnt flying, is actually very protective of his wings. it’s not immediately obvious to the others, but because his wings are so small and maneuverable dream tends to fold them up and hide them under his clothes when he can, and otherwise keep them folded and away from everything else when he can’t. george has his wings folded about half of the time, and sapnap really never has his folded. they fly so much that it’s not super obvious, but dream’s wings are Delicate and full of tiny bones and joints thank u very much and he’s very protective of them

- both george and sapnap have feathers along their back and neck that will raise when they’re alarmed or scared. dream doesn’t, but his hair is Extremely fluffy and fine, to the point of almost seeming like fur instead of hair. 

- both dream and george lean towards a nocturnal sleep schedule, and sapnap basically grudgingly follows. they have a completely screwed up sleep schedule, just like real life. it be like that sometimes.

i’ll cut this off for now, but i have. more thoughts. we’ll see what becomes of them haha.

[tobiosmilktea]

amor vincit omnia — akaashi keiji

     ↪︎ O2. I CHOOSE YOU

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: i absolutely hated rewriting this chapter after it glitched out the first time 😔

since the beginning of your first year of university, you and the rest of your lovely friends had been eating in the library, specifically the large round table secluded and at the very corner for every meal without fail, and nobody really cared to stop you guys for two reasons. For one, no one really goes into that corner of the library that only collected dust, and two, you guys were there so often that you all befriended all the librarians to the point they stopped coming by to tell you guys to leave and eat in the canteen instead.

you were placed between daichi and kiyoko, counting the seconds by as they worked diligently in silence, munching on their lunch in the process. daichi tapped on the keys on his laptop rather quickly, the impact of each click being unnecessarily loud while kiyoko was cross-referencing documents and highlighting lines of never ending texts in a nice muted green color. tsukishima, on the other hand, was too preoccupied reading his book. eyes completely glued to the novel resting in his hands as he readjusted his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. sugawara was out and about somewhere in the sea of towering bookshelves to find a book to read, mentioning something along the lines of—and you quote, ‘something to quench his thirst for entertainment.’ 

it was honestly just his fancy way of saying that he was bored out of his goddamn mind. perhaps you were the same, eyes wandering your surroundings for something, just something to capture your attention for a few moments. it wasn’t at all difficult, actually, considering how pretty your university was.

higashi university had always been your dream college. not just by its blatant aestheticism, but the academia as well. with tanaka and nishinoya being your main friend group during your high school days, it feels rather refreshing being surrounded by other incredibly smart individuals than constant brain rot.

(no offense to tanaka and nishinoya, you loved them to pieces)

and as your mind began to wander, so did your gaze. from admiring the library’s interior to looking out the window, your lips slightly curved down into a frown.

it was only noon and the clouds were already darkening the sun’s piercing rays that usually shone through the large domed windows of the library. it was going to rain soon and for a couple hours as well.

it’s quite peculiar to think about now after you received that damned chain letter. earlier this morning, while shoving on your wool sweater and trousers, that even the weather app on your phone didn’t show any signs of inclement weather until an hour after you texted your group chat in an awkward panic.

you didn’t really pine yourself to be so superstitious. if anything, you were the complete opposite, and yet, here you were worrying over the sound of rumbling thunder in the distance.

tsukishima lifted his gaze from the words printed on his novel as he pushed his glasses higher up on the bridge of his nose. he flickered a look at you, a smirk appearing on his visage the moment he noticed the way you stared at a single drop of rain on the window, flowing down rather slowly.

that stupid letter of yours was still in your hand as well. he watched you fiddle with the corners, careful not to mess with the mahogany red wax stamp that sealed the envelope.

“have you thought about which poor, unfortunate soul you’re going to give it to?” he asked, smirk still annoyingly evident. this was the third time he asked you this question in a span of three hours.

you flicked your eyes towards him coolly before it fell onto the letter in your hands. "ask that question again and i’ll be sure to send it your way, tsukishima.”

“i’d like to see you try, honestly.” he muses, “your best bet is probably slipping it into one of your professor’s inboxes. maybe professor oshiro, by chance?”

“please,” you snort, “she only gave me one failing grade that i eventually made up in the end.”

“just give it to a random stranger,” daichi cuts in, eyes still glued to his laptop as he typed his fingers away. dark circles dusting his eyes like a dark shadow. law school was certainly doing its works on the likes of poor, poor sawamura daichi.

he shrugs, evidentially fatigued when he meets your eye.

“that way your grades won’t have to potentially deal with the consequences if your professor finds out.”

you nod, humming in response. that would be terrible.

sugawara then emerges from the maze of bookshelves, holding up a book towards you with a smile on his face. “found one,” he beams, tossing it atop the messy table.

you reach for the book as sugawara pulls out his chair whilst he mutters something to his daichi about his whereabouts.

“wuthering heights?” you say the title aloud and capture kiyoko’s attention along with it.

“yeah. have you guys read it?” the silver-haired boy asks. he takes your opinions quite seriously knowing how much of an avid reader you and kiyoko were. whenever he needed book recommendations or opinions, he would always go to you two.

you nod, “i quite liked it.”

“some parts tend to be slow, though.” adds in kiyoko, taking the novel from your hands and flipping through the pages briefly before slipping back over towards sugawara. “it should keep you occupied for a few days.”

you chuckle slightly, giving her a look. “you forget how slow suga is at reading. the few days it takes us to finish a book is a good month for him.”

offense coated sugawara’s expression as he lets out a scoff in retaliation. “don’t you have a chain letter to give to someone?”

“she’s stalling,” tsukishima teases.

“am not!”

“then want to go give it to a random stranger then?”

your brows draw together, “right now?”

tsukishima nods as he stuffs his belongings back into his bag. “i’ll come with you for shits and giggles.”

a sigh escapes you, rolling your eyes as you take a look at the letter one last time and wanting to laugh at yourself for doing all this. a full chain letter from front to back, with the first quarter of it is you viciously apologizing that you had to do this in neat cursive handwriting, all written in fifteen minutes.

you gave in.

“fine,” you huff as you grab your own bag as well.

“good luck,” kiyoko muses up at you as you squeeze past her.

tsukishima waits for you until you’re by his side, strides shorter than usual just to match your pace as you two navigate through the labyrinthine arrays of bookshelves. the letter was in your hand, all small and discrete for a quick and easy delivery to an unsuspecting victim. your palm perspired slightly as you kept your eyes open, scanning for an easy person as you were aware of the possible repercussions.

you could easily get in trouble for doing something this childish, but you were in too deep already.

“hurry up and find someone, we’re almost at the entrance already.” tsukishima hisses in a harsh whisper.

“i’m working on it!” you hiss back.

“working on what?” a familiar voice asks then, capturing both you and tsukishima’s attention, whipping your heads towards the owner.

kuroo combed his freehand through his hair while he had two textbooks tucked under his other arm. he gave you a smile.

you never really got close with kuroo despite meeting him at nationals a few years back. despite only talking a few times due to him being good friends with tsukishima, you knew he was nice, incredibly smart in the sciences, and yet oddly awkward for someone as good looking as he.

not him, you thought to yourself, too nice.

“a little project,” the blond immediately answers just like that. “our majors tend to overlap sometimes, so we decided to partner up.”

“nice, i’m here with my friends to study as well.” kuroo states, causing your eyes to scan behind them for any evidence of their rambunctious selves.

like kuroo, you weren’t close with any of them either. if anything, they were just mere acquaintances on the precipice of becoming strangers. regardless, they all seemed quite nice too from your lack of interaction with them.

tsukishima says something in response then, igniting a short little catch-up conversation with an old high school friend as you lay distracted. your eyes flicked down to a study table in front of you, one of the chairs just a foot shy from you had a satchel hanging off of its side. the brown leather flap was wide open with its owner nowhere in sight as you gave your surroundings a once over.

carefully, you made your way over the table, pretending as if you were taking something out of your bag as kuroo was being distracted by the blond. neither of them were looking at you fortunately. as you placed your bag back over your shoulder, you slipped the letter right into the open satchel right at the same time–the envelope falling and disappearing into the depths of the bag.

“i’ve got to get to my next lecture,” you say to the two men, giving tsukishima a sly wink that it was a job well done. “i’ll see you guys around.”

checkmate.

fun facts! —

after kiyoko graduated and moved to tokyo, (y/n) and kiyoko kept in touch by sending each other cute handwritten letters

no one really is aware of that area in the back of the library since no one goes in that section often (this is uhh,, an important detail for later 😳)

taglist: (comment or send an ask to be added!)

@channiechanchan @elianetsantana @suhkusa @agaashesmilktea @dwcljh @duhsies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @kitsunetea @morpheus-rex @noeminemi @ntimacy @kurokenchan @kittyddandnyla @amboisez @komouri @stargirlara @itsmeaudrieee @immxnty @spicyshinsou @bombardia @yammerss @crescenttooru @tadashi-simp @sunanyaa @saikishairclip @marvel-ing-at-it-all @seijqhigh @normalisthenewnorm @allielozoya @peteunderoos @inflxxtions @peg-legz4 @kawafika @apollochjld @bap-kingdom @yongboxerrr @kenssister @galacticyoongs

[shes-ghostface]

May I get The Legion but they befriend a really loving and caring survivor who basically becomes the groups mom/big sister?

This is such a precious ask 🤍 I can certainly try! I’ve never done one like this so I’m sorry if it’s not what you were hoping for! 🤍

You had just awoke yet again from that damn black mist that surrounds you before a trial. As you looked around, you noticed you were at Ormond. It was freezing and you instantly regretted not bringing your jacket.

‘Isn’t this the place that Jeff said some teenagers hang out at?’ You thought to yourself as you walked through the snow, hearing it slightly crunch under every step as you approached the resort building. As you reached the inside you could hear the slight crackling of a fire, you hadn’t seen any other survivors as of yet so you went to check it out, if there’s warmth anywhere in this place at least one of them has gotta be there, right?

Right you were, you seen the silhouette of somebody sitting in front of the flames, but you couldn’t make out who it was yet as they had their back to you and their hood up. They were male, that much you could make out but you didn’t remember seeing any of the survivors putting a hoodie on when you were all preparing for your trial. You shrugged your shoulders and gathered it wasn’t that big of a deal.

You approached the hooded figure, preparing to sit down next to them. “Cold day huh?” He asks, with a slight laugh. “Yeah, I wish I’d brought my jacket. This place is always cold, but I don’t mind it. It beats the humid and clammy farm.” You reply, looking over at him to see his reaction. He just laughs, “Yeah, I like the cold. Been accustomed to it for years.” He states. You look at his face, trying to pinpoint if you had ever seen him before, you really couldn’t remember this guy but he gave off a good vibe so you decided to chat a little longer, considering there was no killer nearby as of yet.

“Have you seen who the killer is yet? I haven’t seen or heard them or the other two survivors.” You ask, trying to get another conversation going. “No idea, maybe it’s a stealth killer and the other two are just playing passive.” He replies, to which you ask “Maybe, well I’m gonna try get this gen done, you can help me if you’d like? Or you can go try find the other two see if they need help with anything?” He looks up at you with a smirk, “I’ll go find the other two, see you soon.”

Before you could even reply he was vaulting through one of the windows. ‘What a strange guy’ you thought to yourself as you started to work on the resorts generator. You couldn’t stop thinking about who that guy was and why you couldn’t remember him. When you got back to the campfire you would have to try find him and get to know him better, he seemed pretty cool after all.

Before you could even keep the thoughts running through your mind, the generator roared to life. You must have been that lost in thought you didn’t even notice two of your other survivors had been mori’d. “Was I really that deep in thought? I need to find that guy before it’s too late.” You said to yourself, there was only 2 generators left to pop so one of the other survivors had been cranking gens, you hoped it was that new guy. Hopefully you can both escape together, you kept saying to yourself as you stepped back out into the skin biting blizzard outside.

As you were heading towards the killer shack to one of the last gens, you heard a scream, but it was a woman’s. You turned fast on your heel, sprinting towards where it came from. As you reached the area your heart started to race and even in this teeth chattering cold, your skin was getting clammy, the killer was close.

You heard the mori happening just on the other side of the wall as you stepped back through the doorway into the resort, you couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be? Could it? As you peered around the corner, you saw the same hooded figure from earlier getting up from the ground and wiping the blood from his knife onto his leather jacket. You let out a gasp, you couldn’t help it. The shock was too much, he whipped his eyes towards you and you stumbled back, right into the reception counter of the resort.

“It was you? All along? Why didn’t you just kill me earlier, back at the fire?” You asked, in an angry but anxious tone. He let out a smug laugh under his weird smiling mask. “Because, you’re the only survivor who didn’t just run from me. You actually had a conversation with me, some days I just don’t wanna kill you know? Killers have off days too. It was nice to just be normal, even if it was only for a brief time.” He replies.

You look at him, he doesn’t look like he’s going to harm you any time soon. You let your guard down slightly, hoping not to regret it. “So what now? Are you gonna kill me?” You ask him, to which he takes his mask off, shaking his head. “No, I won’t kill you. You seem cool, and I’d actually like to talk to you some more. And I think the others would too, they keep asking for another person to hang with us.” You look at him with a slight frown, “Others? There’s more of you?” You ask him, to which he laughs and replies “Just trust me, meet me here after the trial, around 6pm. I’ll introduce you to the group, the hatch is just outside. If you’re not there within 10 minutes then I’ll get the message.” You were about to reply but before you could, he sprinted away. You had never seen a killer run so fast. Your mind was going a hundred miles per hour, ‘the others’ kept playing over and over in your mind, they must be the teenagers that Jeff had told you about. You soon made it to the hatch and off you went, back to the campfire.

As you arrived, the other survivors weren’t around. The majority of them must be in other trials and the ones that were in your previous trial were probably healing up near the river. So off you went, it was already 5:30pm so by the time you reached the Ormond realm it would be nearing 6pm.

It felt like hours that you were walking through the gloomy damp woods, until you felt that blustery air nipping at your skin once again. You were close. It was just after 6pm, as you neared the Ormond Resort entrance you seen him. The hooded guy, you still don’t know his name. ‘I gotta ask for it as soon as possible. Who doesn’t ask someone’s name straight away?’ You thought to yourself, rolling your eyes.

“You’re finally here!” You hear him shout, he actually seems excited about this. It was nice, a lot of the time the rest of the survivors are all doom and gloom because of trials and how bad they’ve been hurt. It was heartwarming to hear someone actually happy for once. You approached him with a smile, “Yeah! I’m here, what’s your name? I’m sorry I didn’t ask earlier, I don’t know why I didn’t.” He laughs, “The names Frank, now let’s get inside and meet the others.” He says as he motions his arms towards the doorway, you step in and the heat hits you instantly. You hear faint music getting louder the further inside you get, it’s that song called ‘Heads Will Roll’. You hadn’t heard that song in years.. You look to Frank and he’s already in front of you, motioning you to go into the main part of the resort with the fireplace from earlier.

As you step in you see three people, one girl has blonde hair, shaven on one side and looks quite tall, by her body language she seems really confident. The other girl has pink hair and looks slightly shorter, by the way she’s standing she seems timid. The guy had his hood up but you could make out a slight goatee and is about the same height as Frank, by the looks of him he seems the most chill one. You look to Frank, studying him. He had deep brown eyes and brown hair, with a neck tattoo. ‘Who did that? Is he even of age to get a tattoo?’ You thought to yourself.

Frank suddenly snaps you out of your daze, he tells you the groups names. You learn that the tall girl is Julie, the pink haired girl is Susie and the hooded guy is Joey. Before you can even introduce yourself you hear Frank shout “So guys this is who I was telling you about!” All three look over to you, you smile and before you can say hello, Julie shouts “Hey newbie, nice to finally meet you. Come over here and chill with us, we got snacks and drinks if you want any. Just help yourself!” As you’re walking towards them, Susie approaches you coyly. “Hey, it’s nice to meet you! I hope we don’t seem too intimidating, we just don’t get a lot of compan-“ before she can finish her sentence, Joey comes over and puts his arms around you both, leading you to the seating area, “Nice to meet you man! Come sit, I’m in charge of the boombox so if you have any requests come to me and I’ll look through our tapes to see if we have it!” Joey boasts.

You couldn’t believe how nice they all were, it was so different to being sat back at the survivors camp. As you sat down you grabbed a can of soda, looking at all four of them being all hyper and chatty. Julie asked if you were okay to play truth or dare, to which you accepted and thankfully so. You learned a lot about the group, who you now know as ‘The Legion’ due to you asking what the graffiti at the top of the stairs was. You also learned that Frank had a rough family life before the realm, so he sees The Legion as his only family. Julie is the hairstylist and tattooist, she told you that if you wanted a new look she’s your girl. Joey is the musician and fitness fanatic, if you want to tone up or get really fit he’s gonna be the one to help you. And you learned Susie is the medic and beauty girl. She takes care of all the wounds and can make you look like a 10, even in the entities realm.

You noticed Frank was drinking quite a lot, he started to get even louder than he was to begin with but then he suddenly crashed down on the sofa next to Joey and all four of you looked at him. He let out a sigh, “No one is ever nice to us. It’s always us four who are seen as the outcasts because we’re so young and rowdy. The other killers find us annoying and the survivors just think they can be toxic to us during trials. It gets lonely here, I wanted to bring you here so you could see we’re just like anyone else. We’re just trying to get through everyday without pissing the entity off.” You look at him, he looks really down about this. Susie starts to fidget and adds, “We don’t get a lot of company, it’s like now that you’re here a hole has been filled. I know it’s only been a few hours but we don’t get any visitors and it means the world to us that you even want to stay in the first place.” Joey and Julie don’t say anything, they just look at you wide eyed, with smiles. Like children looking to their parent for reassurance. “Well you guys know if I didn’t want to be here I’d already be gone, I love chilling with you all. It’s so different than having to deal with the low mood back at survivor camp, I’d come here every day if I could.” You tell them, to which all their faces light up. Before any of them can say anything, you hear the clock chime 11pm.

You were having that much of a good time with them you didn’t notice how late it was, if you stayed past midnight the entity would punish both the killers and survivors who broke the rule.

“I have to go guys, it’s getting late.” You state, standing up out of your seat next to Susie. “Damn it’s that time already?” Joey asks. “Time flies when you’re having fun so they say.” Julie adds, Susie gets up and gives you a hug goodbye, “You’ll come back won’t you? It’s been awesome having you around, even just for a few hours.” You hug her back and smile, “Of course I’ll be back.”

You say goodbye to the other three, to which they all give you a hug and tell you that they can’t wait for the next time you all hang out.

Months went on and every single day you went to visit The Legion, every day that passed, you spent less and less time at the survivor camp. To which you didn’t miss at all.

Most days consisted of you all hanging around the resort fire, playing boards games and truth or dare. You always talked about your trials, mainly about which survivors didn’t make it and what killers you juked.

Other days you would watch Julie give Frank some new tattoos and watch him grit his teeth in pain if she pressed a little too hard, on purpose that is. Every time she did it she had a smirk on her face, your time with Julie was always chill. You would always gossip about killers and survivors whilst doing each other’s hair and she would ask you advice on what to do to catch survivors who are looping her and other times she would ask you for relationship advice. She would often show you her new sketches of her tattoo ideas, she was an amazing artist. She told you her dream job before the realm was to be a tattoo artist, so in the realm she uses Frank as her canvas. She would always show her true feelings to you after a few hours of talking, she knew she could cry around you because you wouldn’t judge her on anything. And if she got too sad you would always make her favourite drink, which was Monster Energy mixed with rum. You really didn’t see the appeal but she always appreciated it and drank it within 5 minutes and always seemed to pick up after that and a sisterly hug from you. After the first week of hanging out with Julie, she gave you one of her earrings to keep. She said that maybe it would help you have more confidence in trials by reminding you that no matter what happens, she is always there and will have your back.

Your time with Frank is always therapeutic in a weird way, if he isn’t getting tattooed he’s wrecking some part of the resort just because he can. He let’s you join in and get your anger of toxic trials out by letting you break snowboards and set them alight, or throw his knife at targets and slice at the dummy’s that are out in the ‘garden’ area of the resort. You can always vent to Frank and he can always vent to you, nothing is hidden between the two of you. He often talks about how he would have loved to have been a stuntman for movies back in the normal world because he lives for the adrenaline rush of things. You both also know each other’s crushes inside the realm and often joke about who you ship one another with the most. He always pairs you with your least favourite killer and to be snarky you always pair him with the survivors who loop him the most. You also race each other around the resort to try prove who’s the fastest, you have the classic sibling rivalry with Frank. He’s like the little brother you never thought you would have in the realm and you both live to annoy one another. The keepsake Frank gave you was one of his old band tees that doesn’t fit him anymore, it was a Hollywood Undead tee. He always blasted them from his Walkman, soon as you neared his room to you could hear one of their songs coming through his headphones. To which you would rip it off his head and startle him.

You never stop laughing with Joey, he is such a joker and always knows how to cheer you up after a rough trial. After a while he put all your favourite songs on a mixtape that he made for you, to which he wrote ‘Big Sis’ with a heart next to it on the label. You have no idea how he got the songs in the realm but you both jammed out all day to it. He fixed up his old cassette player for you so that you could take it back to the survivor camp and play it, he had to show you how to use it of course. You were used to CD players and MP3’s. He also helps you out when it comes to trials by letting you train with him, he taught you how to loop killers for longer by chasing you to build both his and your stamina up. He told you that if he could’ve stayed in the normal world, he would have trained to be a professional boxer to compete in the Olympics. Joey is a softie, he talks to you about anything and everything. He often talks about his past and his family, saying how much he misses them and wonders if they still think of him. You always reassure him by telling him they could never forget a guy like him, but he has his new family here with you and the other three. If he gets too upset you always have his favourite snack to pull out of your pocket and give to him. Joey LOVES food, you learned that when you went to clear his room out whilst he was on a trial and you found tons of empty chocolate bar wrappers and potato chip packets in his top drawer. You and Joey often arm wrestle and it gets super competitive, whoever wins gets to be the boombox DJ the night after.

Susie looks up to you a lot, as she’s healing your wounds after trials she always asks how you can be so strong, especially when it comes to facing killers and getting hurt. The most she gets hurt is from pallet stuns and slight punctures for decisive strikes, when you come back you have holes from the hook piercing through you and slashes all over your body. She finds it hardest when you come back after getting mori’d, especially by Kazan... She never had a big sister before the entities realm. She told you she has always wanted one and you were everything she ever needed in a sister. Susie is the most emotional of the five of you, she often comes back from trials and cries on your shoulder about toxic survivors whilst you rub her back. To cheer her up you tell her she can give you a makeover and that you will do hers in return. Susie is really pretty, if the entity didn’t take her she would have been the beauty queen of her high school for sure. She told you she would have been a beautician if she hadn’t been taken. This often makes her sad too but you get her back to her cheerful self when you ask her to do a certain makeup look on you. She loves that you like her makeup styles, it gives her the confidence she needs. Susie was always making something in her room, one time you went to see her and seen that she was making some kind of bracelet. She noticed you in the doorway and ushered you in. “It’s almost ready! Me and the other three have one already, it’s a friendship bracelet! I made it your favourite colour.” She snipped the last few strands away and placed it on your wrist. As you lifted it to your face to study it, you noticed it had your initials engraved on the small metal plaque and underneath your initials it had ‘The Legion’. They truly did see you as one of them now and it was so heartwarming for you. “Thank you Susie! It’s absolutely beautiful, I’ll never take it off.” Susies face lit up, her huge smile revealing her braces.

If any killers are too brutal with you, you best believe these four will mess with them by taking things from their realms or hiding their weapons so they’re late for trials and get punished by the entity. Frank and Julie are the aggressive ones so a lot of the time they go to fight the killers and often lose, especially if it’s Michael or Kazan. You always know when they’ve had a fight because when you reach the resort you see the bloodstains in the snow leading to the doorway. If you get there in time you always help Susie tend to their wounds and thankfully, due to the miraculous healing speed in the realm, they’re back to normal within an hour.

Anytime you’re around the survivor camp you always get snide comments about how you’re a traitor, these same survivors always screw you over in trials by using diversion near you and not getting you off the hook. You always tell The Legion which survivors do this and every trial that they go against those survivors, they tunnel and mori them to make them suffer and hate the trial even more.

You also won’t ever help the survivors that are toxic to The Legion during trials. You will make sure the killer knows where they are by fast vaulting around them and you will never attempt to get them off of the hook.

If you go against any of The Legion, they always let you get hatch at the end of the trial and you purposely don’t do generators just to give them more time to find the other survivors. It gets them good treatment from the entity.

No one messes with you or any of The Legion and gets away with it. Having a family in the realm was something you never thought you would have, but with Frank, Julie, Susie and Joey, you have never felt more at home.

I hope this was okay! I’m sorry it was really late too, I’ve been dealing with a loss but I’m finally starting to feel okay again! Thank you for the ask, I really appreciate it! 🤍

[green-socks]

Hungry Eyes chapter 5

Pairing: Benny Miller x OFC (Dirty Dancing AU)

Summary: Dirty Dancing but Benny is Baby and the dance instructor is a female OC, Jolene. Benny goes to a holiday resort with his family and somehow ends up spending his time dancing and falling in love! This part is practicing the famous lift and like Eye of the Tiger training montage type moments.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: None.

Notes: This fic is my own little world where I go when I need to. What you see on paper is only a bit of what happens inside my head, but it is what it is. I try. Inconsistent af about posting this bc my muse is a very "it's for me to know and you to to find out" type of gal, so I just follow her lead. Right now she's saying dance, Benny, dance, so he dances. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4 | MASTERLIST

The next few days continued with more dance lessons whenever they could.

Benny had experience with working out. A lot. He pretty much did that for a living, after all. So he knew he shouldn’t get frustrated when some new bit of information didn’t immediately stick to his mind. And yet it was hard to keep himself from stressing out, because there was a time limit, and he didn’t want to let Jolene and Patrick down.

They had the steps mostly down already, now it was about getting the routine to look like dancing- tying the steps together as fluid movement. Jolene kept saying that it was about the feeling, but Benny was having some trouble with that. It wasn’t easy to try and express feelings while all his brainpower went to focusing on remembering where to step and where to look and what to do with his hands at any given moment.

On the fourth day of practice Benny finally started letting loose, and he noticed he was actually having sort of fun with it. They had had a whole lesson on how to feel the music and let it guide you as much as your muscle memory. Apparently, the music told when there was room to breathe and where to be precise and hit the right accents. Jolene made him practice same bits over different songs to make him focus on the different beats. Once he got the feel of that down more, it became easier to make the whole choreography flow better.

Patrick also came in to help them practice and fine-tune the performance, since he knew the part better than Jolene did. Benny had some trouble with turns and keeping his form at first, but his fight training combined with Patrick’s tips helped with those. Some parts were truly starting to go well, and it was beginning to come together. They were extremely sweaty and exhausted all the time, but happy to be making progress. Benny’s legs were tired, arms tired, feet blistered - “dancer’s feet,” Jolene told him - but despite all that he was having a great time. He thrived on the challenge and physicality of it all, it made him feel alive.

He did still feel guilty about spending less time with his family, and instead spending late nights working on the choreography and occasionally popping into the entertainment crew’s parties. Most of the crew had really taken a liking to him, and even Patrick was slowly warming up to him. Only Jolene was still a closed off, not really volunteering anything personal about herself outside of the dancing they did. They still got along fairly well - they understood each other. They both had a strong work ethic and their teamwork got results.

But their teamwork wasn’t always smooth sailing, of course.

One of the parts Benny was struggling with was a serious and tender moment in the beginning of the choreography that required them to be very up close and personal. He couldn’t stop snickering and making jokes or just bursting out laughing and not doing it properly. Jo got annoyed at him for that, because she thought it was a stupid thing to be stuck on, and she had felt a little like he was somehow mocking the choreography, making it seem silly. But the truth of it was that Benny was a bit afraid of how intensely he would feel things if he let himself be completely serious and truly try to live the moment, be vulnerable. He didn’t know if he could keep his emotions in check.

-

There had also been a small argument on the fifth day when Benny had complained about a part he didn’t like in the choreo, and Jolene was having none of his sass. The frustration and stress had started getting to her, and she had snapped at him about not taking it seriously enough and not learning quickly enough.

And Benny had bit back, “Hey, I’m doin’ this just to help you and your friend! And we haven’t even tried to go through the whole thing yet, we haven’t practiced the lift at all, so how do you expect me to get it all if I can’t have the full picture?!”

Jo had seethed at him, breathing heavily for a moment, until she had said, “Fine. You have a car?”

--------

That’s how they had ended up borrowing Benny’s brother Will’s car to drive to a place where they could practice the troublesome lift.

Jo had most of the day off, so she decided now was a good time to go and work on the lift, since it would be best to practice it outside the resort. Benny made jokes and laughed at her when she had to adjust every setting on the seat and mirrors of the car to suit her much shorter frame. Jo was used to hearing jokes about her height but somehow, she didn’t mind them from Benny. She found herself surprised at how easy she felt in his company, the argument from before long forgotten already. With the radio playing and both of them joking around, she started driving toward a secluded beach nearby.

Jo noticed that it was much easier to talk with him now that they were alone together and removed from the context of training for a moment. She found herself opening up about her background in dance, how she had started and how her dream was to open her own dance studio someday. She also told him about her family, how she didn’t see them often because her younger brother was in college far from her and her parents had retired and moved to Australia. Benny was a surprisingly good listener, letting her talk and asking questions, seeming genuinely interested in her. Before she knew it, they reached the destination.

-

Under normal circumstances she would have started with some balancing and trust exercises, but they were past trust exercises, and Benny’s fight training meant he had great balance, so she decided to jump into the thing itself right away.

“Okay. We’ll just- go for it. I’ve shown you the video of what it’s supposed to look like, I’ve shown you where you’re supposed to put your hands and everything. We’re good to go, right? Or do you have any questions?”

“No.. I think I know what to do in theory, at least..” Benny says, rubbing his beard nervously.

She took a deep breath. Okay. There was nothing to it but to just try, it would be fine.

But after tumbling down to the grass a few times Jo realized it wouldn’t work, because they were both holding back for fear of falling. She was afraid of Benny not being able to lift her and then hurting him when he had to bear the brunt of the fallings. And Benny in his turn was scared of hurting her. There was also the added difficulty of their height difference - Benny would have to lift with his legs a lot more, and she would have to adjust a lot from what she was used to with Patrick, too.

So, they would have to make sure the fall was less scary..

“What if we get into the water? It’s safer to fall down there at least,” she suggested.

“What? You serious?”

“Yeah! What, you scared or something?”

Benny rolled his eyes at her childish taunting but shrugged and started taking his shoes and shirt off.

When she had first met him a few days ago, she had dismissed him as just some random dude crashing their party - a seemingly pleasant dude, sure, but nothing special. But now, given the opportunity to admire his back and arms without having to focus on being a dance instructor first, she couldn’t deny the view was very.. inspiring. She had seen him shirtless before because they did work up quite the sweat dancing in the summer heat, and the guy seemed very comfortable with his body. It was different, though, in this new environment and this new, more relaxed energy between them. It was a nice change of pace, truth be told.

Benny started opening his belt and Jo stopped in her tracks.

“What are you doing?”

“If you wanna deal with my brother when we return his car with the seats all wet, be my guest, but I learned to not get any fluids on his car seats when I was sixteen,” he said seriously, shaking his head while pulling his jeans off.

“…You know what, I’ll take that chance. I’m keeping my shorts on,” she said, thinking of the not-covering-much-at-all underwear she had on.

“It’s totally fine, I have a hoodie you can sit on. Plus, he wouldn’t even know how to be mad at you,” Benny smiled.

They got in the slightly chilly water, Jo determinedly not looking at Benny until they were deep enough.

-

“Alright, let’s try again!”

The added support of the water was a big help, and after a few tries they managed a perfect lift for a moment until Jo lost her balance and dived into the water.

“Yes, yes! You did it! That was so good!” Jo shouted after she resurfaced. “I lost my balance, but you did it!”

Benny’s eyes seemed to light up, and the next few times he tried even harder. Jo had noticed during practices that Benny was good at following orders when working out, and that he responded to her stricter coaching really well. But she had also noticed that when she praised him, he seemed to get an extra boost of energy, and usually performed even better after that. It was as if the hard training kept him focused and sharp, but a few compliments helped free his creativity more. She wanted to keep the compliments genuine though, and not overdo it.

They still ended up underwater more often than not, but they were starting to get the hang of it at least. They were both tired and had wet hair plastered to their faces as they stood there catching their breaths before a new try.

Benny brushed his hair back from his eyes in the way men do in commercials and Jo found herself staring. He looked unreasonably good like this when she was sure she was a total mess. His blue eyes were shining brighter than the water, and the droplets on his chest made her eyes follow their trajectory downward. Oh boy was she staring. How to stop, though?

“Hello?” Benny’s voice was trying to pull her out of her thoughts. “Jo?”

That was the first time he had called her that, and not her full name. She lifted her head to meet his gaze again, and she was sure her face greatly resembled a tomato.

She didn’t know what to do to save the situation when she was so obviously caught ogling. So she splashed him.

Benny spluttered. “Oh, really? That what you wanna do?” he asked with a big grin.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jo said, and splashed him again.

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna regret that,” he laughed, and started swimming after her.

Then it was a mess of screaming, laughing, splashing, trashing, and wrestling in the water. Jo was breathless from laughing and the exertion, and she couldn’t remember having that much fun in weeks. She was no match for Benny’s strength, though. He caught her, lifting her up and threatening to throw her back in the water. (Which was essentially what they had done all evening, but this was a different situation entirely.)

“I surrender, you win!” Jo managed to shout out through her giggles.

“Hah, told ya!” Benny gloated as he lowered her back to stand on her own legs.

Suddenly it hit Jo how near each other they were standing, and how very little clothing each of them were wearing, especially Benny. And this was no training situation anymore.

She cleared her throat, avoiding his eyes. “One more go with the lift?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

But the sun was already setting, and it was getting chilly, so they only tried a couple more times before calling it a day.

-

They drove back to the resort, Jo sitting on Benny’s hoodie to protect the car like he promised. The radio was playing again, both of them still making jokes and talking, but this time there was also a different kind of tension in the air. Tomorrow they would have time to practice a little during the day and then it would be time for the performance. But Jo wasn’t sure the tension she felt was just performance jitters.

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

tagsies: @writeforfandoms @starlightmornings @lorecraft @niki-xie@salome-c @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @sgnjimmy @marvelousmermaid @velocibee @killyspinacoladas

[femme-enby]

FNAF heights?

So I’ve seen a lot of different things, and of course it would help to have a proper lineup or something…

And I ain’t great at guessing heights or sizes of things, especially without actually being near the thing, but even then being short and a chronic sloucher, plenty of things look huge…

But like…

We get one comparison, for sure- Vanessa and Freddy.

Now, we are looking from behind, so while it looks like Vanessa’s head ends right below Freddy’s chin, we COULD say that she actually hits closer to just below Freddy’s bow tie…

If I use some dinky height comparison website, that puts Freddy at a foot taller, max.

So, even if Vanessa is fairly tall for a woman, that would still be maybe 6ft, making Freddy 7ft.

This, btw, based on our perspective while playing the game, puts Gregory at about 4ft tall (since we’re pretty much staring at fazballs during the game.)

Sooo… let’s say Gregory is 4ft.

If I remember correctly, the top of the desk in the daycare was a little shorter than Gregory’s eyeline, which makes sense I suppose, if someone usually works the desk it helps to be able to see a child that might wander up, so we’ll call that 3’6…

And if Moon is scrunched down to be about half his height when he hops up on the desk, and was maybe in that same position behind it when he could peek over…

That puts him at about 7-7’6…?

And the rest of the band look to be about the same height as Freddy…

So it seems like Freddy and the band are all 7-7’6, while Daycare Attendant is possibly the same height (idk, making different sized endoskeletons? Come on, we know this company cheap AF…) at best we could give an extra 6 inches in height.

Now now, some might be sad about this… but listen…

At 5’3, when I was hanging out with this dude who was 6’6… my neck HURT tryin to look up at him. I mean, guess that could even out the damage I do by hunching over, but still! Plus a foot and three inches already had me lookin out for step stools, stairs, etc to be taller to make it a bit easier on me.

So 6ft-ish people still gonna have to look up, anyone shorter… hope you ain’t like me and topple over backwards when you gotta look straight up at something tall I guess.

(Also, for you nasties… how flexible do you think an animatronic is?? They still gotta be able to get their arms and WHATEVER in the right places! Cut them some SLACK!)

NOTE:

This is certainly not to discourage any headcanons. Keep writing and drawing these skyscrapers, I like the idea of having a vantage point if I sit on their shoulders.

I just thought of how we don’t have any “official” heights apparently so I decided to try my hand at utilizing some game information and real life experience, if anyone was like… GENUINELY curious instead of just… thirsty curious.

[erin-bo-berin]

Lists

MASTERLIST

This fic was requested by @sundippedprincess​ for Spencer and the reader to exchange kink lists. This was so different for me to write because it borders on smut, but doesn’t actually include it. It was also pretty funny to channel Spencer and his knowledge. This one is a little shorter than most of mine, but I wanted to post a little mid-week fic for y’all. I hope you enjoy and happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (no smut, but talk of sexual acts/kinks)

Word Count: 1,927

“I can’t believe you came up with this.”

You and your boyfriend Spencer were currently sitting on your shared bed, each of you writing on your respective notepads.

“Hey, we’re at the point in our relationship where it’s perfectly respectable to share things like this with one another,” Spencer explained, never once looking up from his writing.

He’d been scribbling for a good ten minutes before you’d even begun writing, making you incredibly nervous.

“What are you even writing?” you asked, exasperated, trying to peek.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he smirked, pulling the pad closer to him, where you couldn’t see.

After a nonchalant conversation the other day about kinks, Spencer suggested that you both write down any kinks you and him had or even wanted to experiment with. 

This is how you ended up sitting on the opposite side of the bed, just staring at him as he immediately started writing. You were so curious what was on his list. 

So far, your list seemed pretty bare. You had experimented with milder kinks—which you were more comfortable with—but there were a few more intermediate ones that you would be willing to try.

Spencer seemed to be enjoying this a lot though. He was scribbling happily, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth.

You had to admit, you were pretty curious what kinks he was interested in.

Yours and Spencer’s sex life was pretty routine. It had never been bad per se, but maybe he was right, it was a good point in your relationship where you could feel comfortable enough with one another to try new things.

You and he had been dating for just about a year now, although you hadn’t been intimate until much later in your relationship. The first four or so months was spent taking things slow, something that was fine with you. He had a busy career and you were still getting to know each other.

You weren’t keen on rushing into anything either, so it had never been a big deal that the sexual part of your relationship didn’t form for a bit. It took a while—as it usually did in a new relationship—for you both to become accustomed to one other in bed. 

This was taking it to a new level though. You and he had briefly talked before about what you enjoyed in bed, but not to these lengths. So as you made out your list, you made sure to add even the most obvious ones.

Your eyes fell to your piece of paper that had your obvious kinks: fingering, oral and lingerie/sexy outfits. You thought harder though. What would be something that you would enjoy and would turn you both on?

Chewing your bottom lip, you added more to your list.

Looking over at Spencer, you saw him smirking and nodding to himself as he wrote. What in this world was he writing? 

Perhaps your boyfriend was kinkier than you thought.

You thought about other things you were curious to try and added them to your list. It had grown some, but still seemed pretty weak compared to the novel you were sure Spencer was writing.

By now, your list included:

Fingering

Oral Sex

Lingerie/Sexy Clothing

Roleplay

Dirty Talk

Face Sitting

Moaning 

Those were the mild ones and ones that were pretty common and usually done.

The few that you added were:

Sex Toys

Striptease

Sex In Different Locations

You couldn’t think of much of anything else, so you sat and waited while your boyfriend continued adding to his list.

“Are you writing the Kama Sutra over there?” you joked.

“You know, contrary to the popular belief the Kama Sutra isn’t really a guide on sex or sex positions as much as it is a guide on the art of living well, the nature of love, finding a life partner and maintaining one’s love life and other aspects pertaining to pleasure-oriented faculties of human life.”

You chuckled, his gift for spouting random facts something you found incredibly endearing. You were always learning something new, like in fact, the real subject of the Kama Sutra.

“Good to know,” you smiled.

“Okay, I’m just about done,” he commented.

You sat waiting, quite amused.

“And done,” he said, putting down his pen.

“Count of three we switch?” you offered.

“One,” he began.

“Two,” you added.

“Three.”

At the same time, you switched notepads. Your eyes bugged at the amount of writing on the page. It was completely full. You were extremely intrigued.

The list was a mile long and some were-

“Spencer, some of these aren’t in English!”

He looked at you with a cocky grin and a raised brow. You just gaped at him.

“What language is this anyway?” you asked, looking closer.

“Two are Russian, one is Korean,” he answered nonchalantly.

“I’m afraid to ask what they are.”

“Don’t worry, none of it is really BDSM or anything,” he said, “I see too much stuff like that at work and I would never want to put you through something like that.”

His voice was gentle and you smiled at his concern.

“Besides, the hardcore stuff doesn’t do much for me anyway.”

At least that was one thing you could agree on.

You watched his eyes quickly scan your small list.

“I am very much up for a striptease,” he grinned, “Sex toys, hmm? Noted.”

“Spencer,” you chuckled, watching his finger run down the list.

“Moaning?” he asked, “Care to elaborate?”

“Too many guys are quiet. I want you to moan. I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel,” you smirked.

“Oh I can definitely manage to do that for you,” he mumbled half to himself, making you grin.

“Aren’t you gonna check out mine?” he questioned.

“I’m preparing myself,” you deadpanned.

But as usual, curiosity killed the cat. So, you looked.

You saw some of the same things you had included on your own list; fingering, oral sex, face sitting and dirty talk.

“Gotta put that dirty talk to use, I see,” you mumbled as you read.

“Oh, believe me, I will,” he smirked.

“Dominant and submissive huh?”

“Not like in BDSM though,” he said, “Sometimes I might be in the mood to dominate you, sometimes I might want you to dominate me.”

“Can’t wait for that,” you grinned slyly.

Your eyes continued down the list.

Food Play

Sensation Play

Deprivation/Blindfolds

“Food play, I approve of. I think we have some whipped cream in the fridge as we speak,” you said, “What’s sensation play?”

“Like if I want to run a piece of ice over your naked body while you’re hot and turned on and watch it melt slowly on your skin.”

Your mouth dried a bit, just imagining the scenario and you shifted slightly, clearing your throat.

“And deprivation?”

“If I feel like tying your wrists to the bed posts so you can’t touch me while I fuck you. Or blindfold you and drive you crazy because you can’t see me, only feel me,” Spencer said.

“Mm,” you hummed, trying to ignore the slight churn in your stomach from your lust.

One item caught your eye, distracting you from your desires.

“Impregnation kink?”

“Mhm,” he answered, “Cause what’s hotter than the possibility of getting you pregnant? Knowing that I did that.”

His smirk had grown on his face. You had to agree, it was sexy. You may not have been together for an extremely long period of time, but you could definitely say you’d one day like to have a baby with him.

“Oh my god, Spencer Reid,” you said, as your eyes fell on the next listed kink, “You have a spanking kink?”

“Not that I know of,” he answered innocently, “But if you’re willing, I’d like to try it. Maybe just one here and there during rough sex.”

“You better stay over there at this rate or I’m going to end up ripping all your clothes off,” you grumbled.

“I know what I’m doing,” he grinned mischievously.

“Okay, I know this one should be self explanatory, but what are cumshots and why is that on your list? How do you even know about all of these? Nevermind,” you held up your hand, “I forgot, you do lots of reading on everything.”

“Ejaculating into a woman’s vagina.”

“Okay, that’s one we’ve already done,” you snickered.

Your gaze continued down the list.

Orgasm Control

Orgasm Denial

Begging 

“Oh so you want me to beg for you to fuck me?” you smirked, “Yet you won’t let me come?”

“We’ve done it a little before. It’s sexy seeing you writhe under me, begging to cum so hard that you see stars.”

You were now throbbing with arousal, you couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Erotic massage?” 

Your brows lifted at the next entry on the list.

“What?” he grinned innocently, “You get a sensual massage and I have an excuse to keep my hands on my girl. It’s a win-win.”

You laughed. He definitely had a point there.

The next one made your eyebrows practically shoot to your hairline.

“Public sex?!”

“I’m not talking about out in the open!” he claimed, “I mean like car sex or even some secret fun under a table. Maybe my hand accidentally slips and slides into your panties one night when we’re out for dinner with the team. Maybe you have to keep from moaning as I secretly finger you, reveling in the fact that you so badly want to moan, but you have to remain composed.”

His voice dropped, getting huskier.

“And when you orgasm, your body tenses so badly and your nails dig into my forearm as your body relaxes and you release all over my hand, unbeknownst to the rest of the table.”

The room suddenly felt hotter than the Sahara desert. You realized you were staring at him, your jaw slackened. 

“Problem, Y/N?” he smirked.

“Huh? No, yeah. I’m totally fine, I mean.”

You really weren’t.

There were only a few items left on the list now.

Filming Yourself

Mirror Sex

“Oh so you are kinky, huh?” you giggled, more to cover the fact that your own arousal was at dangerous heights now.

“You mean you don’t find the idea hot as fuck to watch yourself being fucked good by me in a mirror? Or filming it so you can watch while I’m gone? I mean, I have an eidetic memory, so I can automatically replay your orgasm face in my mind whenever I want.”

He was definitely asking for it, now. 

Your eyes fell to the last thing listed.

Thigh Riding

“What’s that?” you asked, pointing to it.

“Not exactly a full on kink, but the fantasy of it seems extremely erotic. I’d like to see you ride my thigh, grind on it as hard as you can until you’re a moaning, orgasming mess.”

His voice was a near growl now, his own desires showing—in more than just the indicator in his pants.

“Oh fucking hell,” you snapped, tossing the notepad aside.

You were across the bed in mere seconds, in front of him, ready to kiss him. He tossed the other pad of paper to meet yours on the floor as he grabbed you and pushed you back against the bed, him falling with you as he hovered over you. He kissed you briefly.

“So which one do you want to try out first?” you asked, breathless from the singular kiss.

His small, answering smirk was more than enough of an answer for you, but he answered anyway.

“Whichever you want.”

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[agreatescape89]

SNK Reader x Sasha, Annie, and Mikasa

Mikasa and Annie fall in love with Y/N, unknowing they're already with Sasha

Neutral Pronouns, Word Count: 1308,

Mikasa and Annie weren't ever the best of friends, but their first quarrel was in the first few months of cadet training. I don't think most would guess these stoic soldiers' first epic battle was over a common love interest.

Y/N joined the cadets after seeing how many lives were ruined and torn apart and wanted to help in any way they could, so they figured why not go into the survey corps. On orientation day, they were all lined up in rows while the instructor, Shadis, gave his less than heartwarming speech.

When it was all over, Y/N went to introduce themself to the other cadets. They first saw a group of three and thought, why not meet them? The shortest one of the trio had medium long hair and softest, ocean eyes you could ever imagine. The other boy was a bit taller with brown, short hair and rebellious green eyes, he stood himself in a confident manner and was the first one to talk when Y/N approached. “Hey” The brown haired spoke. “Hello.” The shorter one shyly followed. “Hi i’m Y/N!” They then noticed the third person of the group, who was previously turned to face the taller boy who’d now Identified himself as Eren. She was tall, about the same height as Eren. She had long midnight hair, grey eyes like a wolf. The look she gave Y/N was confusing; Her mid-face seemed tinted pink, but her eyes glared at them both like they were a God, and like they were a bag of dogshit left on the sidewalk. The four chatted and introduced themselves for a while but the Girl, named Mikasa, didn’t speak once as far as Y/N could recall.

Day one of training began, Y/N and Mikasa met up for breakfast and they’d met Eren and Armin. Y/N saw Sasha and called her over, when she got close Y/N immediately got up and gave her a big hug and introduced her to the trio. Y/N never specified Sasha was their girlfriend, which will later prove to be a big mistake

A few hours later, everyone was paired up to practice hand to hand combat. Y/N got paired with a short, blonde girl named Annie. She looked very strong, but lucky for Y/N, Annie thought they were cute. Though she's not the type of person to feel like that, she figured it was normal to feel like that once so she might as well enjoy it a little bit. “Hi, i’m not really sure how to do this” They admitted when Annie walked up to them. “That's ok, i'll teach you.” She said less than enthusiastically. Y/N surprisingly understood the directions Annie was giving them, though she seemed pissed to have to interact with another human being. Y/N practiced what they’d just been taught, subsequently leaving Annie flat on her ass. “Oh my Goddesses! Annie are you ok? I'm so sorry, are you ok Annie?” They ran to her side to check her, thankfully she was ok (it wasn’t much of an attack anyway) but Annie was flustered, her cheeks painted red. Woah this persons hot, and so nice, nobody had ever knocked her right down and worriedly made sure she was ok. “Yeah i’m fine, uh, good job..” She replied not fully knowing how to respond. After that, Annie tried to be paired up with Y/N as much as possible

Mikasa and Annie were both luckstrucken by the Y/H(eight), H/C cadet. They had to have them, though they did not know each other even existed then, they were going to learn soon enough.

Mikasa was the first to move in; Within the first week of training Mikasa was simping and offered to do all of Y/Ns chores, they declined the offer because they didn't want Mika to do that much for them, but She'd managed to convince them to at least help. Annie was the first to notice the other. She'd seen Mikasa spending so much time together, Y/N was hers.. She’d need to step up her game! At the next partnered training session Annie made sure to team up with Y/N. She asked to train them privately everyday because she thinks they have potential. They excitedly accepted and spent every afternoon together.

Mikasa hated that they spent more time with Annie than her. She had to find a way to win them over. Mikasa tried to take Y/Ns time away from Annie, being more caregiving than ever. It turned to Y/N alternating evenings, one day with Annie, the next with Mika, neither of them were satisfied with this. Each day they’d try to step each other up, either by trying to win their heart or impressing them and Y/N was oblivious to it all. Sasha was too though I bet any normal partner would be suspicious as hell but somehow these two were completely unaware of the rivalry that developed.

Finally one night, Y/N, Sasha, Reiner, Bertolt, and Connie were all conversing together, eating dinner. “So, Y/N, what’s up with you and Mikasa and Annie?” Reiner questioned. “Huh? Nothing, we're just friends.” Y/N laughed confused. “It’s pretty obvious, neither of them treat anyone else so nice, what’s so special about you?!” Connie joked. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about, if they had feelings for me I’d think I’d know, plus they know I’m with Sasha anyway who doesn't!” “most people actually, you two don’t really act like a couple.” Bertolt Chimed in. “That doesn’t mean we don’t love each other like any normal couple.” Sasha added cuddling into Y/N.

Suddenly there was loud ruckus in the dining hall. The group quickly joined the cadets who seemed to be surrounding something, whatever it was had to be interesting. The excited event that pumped up the entire cadet corps was 2 of the strongest soldiers fighting fist to fist. The dark glares they gave each other sent shivers down Y/N’s back, this wasn’t good. They both waited and watched each other, calculating their movements. As they stepped towards each other, both with their fists up and ready, Y/N stepped in. “Stop! What are you two fighting about! Please don’t do this!” They pleaded. The girls stopped and looked at them with shocked faces. “Y/N, I love you, we both do, you need to pick one of us.” Annie said, her blue eyes desperate for Y/Ns love, Mikasa watching them with a similar look in her eyes. Whispers among the crowd grew louder, and a few cheers and woo’s as well. “I’m sorry you guys…” “Y/N I would treat you way better than she would, I would actually take care of you rather than beat the shit out of you.” Mikasa impulsively said, strangely, it wasn't like her to do that but she couldn't stop herself. “Mika, I-” “Y/N I would never hurt you, I can take you far, I can take you places you could never imagine, please, be with me..” Annie cried. She had thoughts of the future, anxiety started to overwhelm her. “Um I'm sorry you two but they’re with me.” Sasha finally chimed in. An awkward silence filled the room. After a few, long, almost unbearable seconds, Annie ran out of the building to get some fresh air. Mikasa stayed silent. Eventually Reiner stepped in being the social dad that he is, “Ok guys, it’s over, it’s nobody's business just leave them be alright, they got a lot to work out here.”

And that they did. It took a while but eventually Annie and Mikasa got over their heartbreak and stayed close friends with Y/N, all the way to the end.