#how about you go and take a look at my instagram page instead of judging my art on a platform I havent posted on since ages?

[saltywolfpaws]

Listen, nobody thinks you're a worse version of CA. You are younger, still getting the hang of developing a style. It's should be something that matters to you, taking the feedback and using it to your advantage. Artists incorporate art from numerous places to develop themselves, this is totally normal. What I am telling you is that you are inspired so closely by one singular source and you are studying them so closely, it shows, right down to your watermark. In order to stand out on your own in any way, you must broaden your circle of influences. It surely will sting to hear it, but it shouldn't cause you to abandon your passions. I hope that instead of shutting down, you use my feedback to grow because you have tremendous potential.

Okay. Firstly, I have never even asked for your feedback in the first place and I have never been open to it.

Secondly, "You must broaden your influences" or "studying them so closely" Is insane to me. I do not "study" artists for my artstyle. I am just drawing, Idek what I am doing most of the time and theres you accusing me of studying CA's art?

I 90% of the time do not use any kind of reference, especially when drawing animals. And I even more rarily so do reference other artists art. If you believe that my art looks close to CA's, then alright. But I wont change the way I draw, because thats the most comfortable for me.

[hightechinfluencer]

Going viral with AI on Instagram

Recently my business partner Topher Welsh and I were able to take his Instagram account from 1k to 125k in only 8 weeks flat. When I tell my friends who are in the influencers what we did they almost can’t believe it. Some of them have almost 100k in followers after 4 years of continued growth. What we did was part luck and part skill with 20 years of experience each behind it. We knew there were some simple methods that could be used to get our content to take off. Marvel babies were born…. Expanding into other pop culture icons.

The Content…

AI is a bad word for artists these days but with it, we were able to post 1–2 times a day. Each post had between 4–8 images all related together. We knew that if we used AI, we would be able to make base images and then Photoshop them to look like the images we wanted. (We are both professional designers.) This method is just like how other artists might use stock images and then edit them into a new piece. There is a misconception that it’s a collage tool that cuts out pieces of other art to make new ones which is incorrect. AI analyzes images and then creates new images based on machine learning algorithms.

[While we use Midjouorney, we do believe that artists should be able to opt out of their trained data set and these generative AIs should be retrained with ethical means. We also believe that retraining should also include non-bias models for a better representation in their outputs. We hope to see this change in the future.]

This is how we did it…

Knowing the Basics:

It’s going to be hard to grow on IG without knowing the basics. There are things you will have to research like which hashtags to use for your content, how to make reels, and what the best starter image for a carousel. These are conditional on your content. Some people may have a great engagement with normal photos and some might find more success with just reels or stories. You will need to research what works for others so you can copy their formula. Our niche was “baby versions of famous pop culture icons”.

4 Quadrant - Method:

I like to use a system called the “4 Quadrant Method” invented by the studio Cineasaurus. It basically pulls from 4 specific areas that allow for content to find maximum reach.

Fandom: You can create content around subject matter that people are already interested like Starwars, Marvel, Ghostbusters, Nascar, cakes, etc. By utilizing these fandoms you can tap preexisting audiences rather than building your own. Just remember to keep your feed of content related to each other in some way. If you build a following around cartoons but then start making content around hiking you have essentially “bait & switched” your followers. They will leave in droves.

Flagpole content: Content released around an event, release, or holiday can give you a boost because people are talking about the subject matter. Our best release over the 6 weeks was that of the Addams Family because the show Wednesday had just been released. It got 3 times more views than the next post. People went as far as getting the pieces tattooed on their bodies!

Quality: You need to be able to judge your content independently. Too many people fall in love with their own work expecting other people to feel the same way about it. That just doesn’t work, coming from a place of a professional we can judge a set of works pick out the best ones then improve upon them. This improves the quality of the page overall.

Marketing: You have to have a distribution system to put your work in other places to guide people back to your page.

It’s not a problem if its a feature - Method:

One of the downsides of using Midjourney as a base is that it has a hard time doing hands and feet. We used this to our advantage. Instead of fixing the issues in photoshop, we made sure to leave them in resulting in people feeling the need to call out the imperfections. This led to more engagement, with the posts spreading their reach. I’ve seen people purposely leave mistakes in their reels as a way of enticing people to leave comments correcting them.

Credit and community!

There was an influx of accounts making things out of our content. They were seen in everything from printed on walls, used in marketing content, reuploaded to wallpaper websites, and even was seen tattooed on people. We asked people to tag and credit the account if they were going to re-upload the content. We had to contact Instagram several times over stolen work and accounts passing them off as their own.

The Metrics… How did we do?

8-week growth Growth: Around 12,400% increase

Accounts reached: 16.9 Million

Accounts engaged: 980k

Engagement: 4.1% Rate

Note: Engagement for Instagram is typically very low across all metrics.

Less than 1% is low engagement

Between 1% and 3.5% is average/good

Between 3.5% and 6% is high (This is where our account ranks)

More than 6% is incredibly high

See the account for yourself on Instagram

Write Up in Bored Panda

If you find this newsletter useful, share or tag a friend. 

Got questions? You can DM me directly on Twitter

[lynaferns]

I wrote this so it could be about any hobby or life skill but I was actually thinking about the art community so I'm adding onto that.

It IS good for artists to learn new art skills but not everyone has the same learning capacity and process as YOU. The fact that you can perfectly draw a specific hairstyle, body type, dog, whatever, and you learned how to do it in little time doesn't mean it's fast and easy for everyone else too.

Even if we have access to the internet, not every advice we find here is going to work for everyone, we have no clue if the advice we get about things we are not familiar with are reliable sources of not.

We base our art on what's closer to us, the first thing we use as references is our surroundings and our own selves. Of course this artist draws a lot of white characters; they're white themselves and everyone around them, of course this artist draws a lot of chubby/fat characters or gives fat features to their favorite/popular characters; they are fat themselves they're their closest reference, of course this artist always draws the hands this way or the eyes or legs or literally any feature of their characters; they have those features themselves.

We cannot shit on people for reasons like this, even less when the artist is actually trying to get better and they aren't automatically good first try. This is one of the reasons we get scared of trying new things or show our practice/process or even ask for advice. There is always someone who's going to judge and call you out for the way you draw even if art isn't a thing you want to get good at and it's just a pass time. And I'm tired of being scared to ask for advice or to post my characters because of what those people may say (among other things).

I know I have a problem with drawing only pretty, skinny people and that I don't have much variety in skin color, body types, ages, face features, etc etc. But I'm learning how to expand my skills to draw more variety. Yes, it took me years but I'm finally starting to come out of my comfort zone because I'm in a community that has inspired me to do it. It's not going to look good at my first try, it could take me 3 trys, it could take me 100, but I'm going at my own pace, in my own way, by myself. That's how I learn, that's what works for me.

But not everyone can look at objects and break down completely the structure and just draw it, other people may need a guiding hand (or just human to human communication) and the advice they get is "learn" "get good" "go learn it then" "just search a tutorial" and, wow, could there be more shittier advice? Literally saw these on Instagram under a comment saying they don't know how to draw curly hair and it always ends up looking wavy at max, the responses were like 10 different people one after the another saying "learn" and others being mean for no reason. And like-

When you find someone saying "I don't know how to draw [circles], I can only do [triangles] and [squares]" I'm 90% sure that's a call for advice and instead of giving them a lazy response such as "learn how to do [circles] then" give them actual resources. Recommend tutorials, recommend pages, videos, books, anything that can encourage the person to look it up and have a guide. Don't scare people away from learning.

TL;DR: Not everyone has the resources to learn new art skills or know how to get better. Instead of telling them to "go and learn" give them actual advice that can help them get into improving and encourage them.

(Also, not everyone wants to be an art pro so don't be mean to them just because.)

It's pretty funny when I encounter someone giving free advice for people to learn a new skill and then the next person posts about the same thing but this one is demanding people to learn that skill, like it's your obligation to know it and if you don't learn it you are a disappointment.

The internet can be so motivational and so discouraging at the same time

[trappedwriter]

Trapped - Chapter 1

March 3rd, 2017

Jessica’s POV

Standing in my closet pondering over what outfits look good, a familiar sound snaps me out of my deep thoughts. Abandoning the clothes, I rush over to my phone with excitement. “It’s only been up for 10 minutes, I wonder how many likes I’ve gotten” I thought.

Opening the app I felt a spike of excitement when I saw someone had left a comment "Go to www.Iwantabigdick.com to make your dreams come true." My heart sinks. Maybe I need more hashtags, I’m too fat I should take it down and edit it more, why aren’t I getting the same attention as other influencers, I’m practically copying them.” The same thoughts run through my mind every time. Throwing my phone back on my bed, I continue outfit planning.

An hour passed, and I finally have planned all my outfits for the next two weeks. I found this really cute denim patched jacket online and wanted to create multiple outfits with it. I paired it with a floral dress, some faux leather pants and even made a denim on denim look. I think Britney & Justin would be proud if they saw my outfit.

I check my phone again, only a couple more likes, and you guessed it more bot comments. “Ugh I’m so sick of them, why can’t Instagram just get rid of them. It’s not like they’re helping me get more exposure”.

My Instagram page is filled with brightly coloured clothes modelled against simple backgrounds. I’m very proud of my page. Long hours spent planning and researching. Pouring my heart and soul into it. Just trying to be best influencer out there. The potential for greatness is there, they just can’t see it. I gotta do something big, something bold. Then they’ll see. Then I’ll finally get the attention I deserve.

—————————————————————————

The weekend came and went really quickly. All the outfits I planned out yesterday are now photographed. I’ll have a busy editing week ahead of me. It was such a gloomy weekend. It rained all the time which resulted in me having to take my outfit pics in various establishments.

I live in a small town called New Market born and raised here, everyone knew everything about each other. Like me, my parents died in a car crash when I was 3. I had no other family, so I was placed in the foster system. Eventually, I was adopted by lovely Sarah and Tom Bell. They must have had a kink for wanting a big family cause although they couldn’t produce any of their own, they sure as hell had a lot of kids. 6 including me. Only 4 months after adopting me, they adopted another 5 more kids.

Last year Tom & Sarah decided that New Market was no longer their forever home and moved to California. I decided to stay as the little town held so many memories for me. Like when I fell off the slide and lost my first tooth, my first (and only) kiss, and my high school prom.

I had a part time job working in a thrift store. It’s not my ideal job but it meant I was able to provide for myself, plus I got first picks of new clothes that came in but I wouldn’t want someone else’s hand-me-downs. And yet, despite the fact that I graduated high school and I have a job, the locals still give me dirty looks as I set up my camera for the shots. Just because I didn’t go to college and instead decided to follow my dream meant that they could just sit there and judge me. No doubt gossiping about me too.

Being an influencer has been a dream of mine ever since I first started watching YouTube videos of beauty gurus back in 2015. Although Tom & Sarah never really cared about what I did, they were adamant that I finish high school before starting any silly projects. They didn’t understand that this wasn’t silly, I could get popular and become rich and famous. As soon as I got home from my graduation, I got straight to work. I tried the whole YouTube thing, but sitting down and filming took forever, the hours of filming and editing wasn’t worth the hundred or so views I got. That’s when I decided that Instagram was going to be my main focus.

Chapter 2

[biggest-stupidhead]

more modern au levi x reader!! is it okay where reader makes petra jealous???

Just a reminder: WE DO NOT CONDONE PETRA SLANDER IN THIS HOUSE!!!

with that said, I will write this heavily focused on Petra to make it a lil angsty, hope you enjoy!

Summary: Petra watches her ex fall for another

Word Count: 1.7K

__ 

It had been two long years since Petra and Levi ended things. It wasn’t messy but it was painful, she had seen it coming from a mile away. He had grown just as distant as he had been when they first met. Staying late at work, texting her dryly, and using terrible excuses. Although she had known it was coming, she still was a wreck when he actually ended things. She spent the months following the break up drinking wine and crashing at Oluo’s place regularly. After two years she was finally feeling better, dare she say, ready to get back into the dating scene? Or at least that’s what she thought, she was scrolling through her instagram feed when she stumbled across Hange’s page. It was someone’s birthday, someone she wasn’t familiar with. 

A woman with bight eyes and an even brighter smile was in the center of the group photo. On her right was Levi, who had an arm thrown casually over her shoulder, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. Petra pinched the screen to zoom into Levi’s side, where she saw a feminine hand on his waist. She stared stupidly at the image. She shouldn’t feel jealous, she had no right. It had been two long years since the break up. But the picture only dredged up old memories of times when she would hold Levi that same way. When that smile was directed to her. She then turned her attention to the caption, which read: 

Happy Birthday (Y/n)! 24 never looked so good!

She then scrolled through the comments, many of them consisted of birthday wishes and support. She lost interest when she didn’t see Levi’s username and instead went back to the collection of photos, three of them in all. The group one that she assumed had just been taken, the second one was a picture of Hange and you on the beach, Petra felt a involuntary wave of self consciousness wash over her at the site of you in a swim suite. The final picture was the one that hurt the most though, it seemed to be a very old picture of you, maybe from your early years in college? You were sitting on a couch with younger versions of Hange, Erwin, Levi, and Moblit. Levi’s arm was casually thrown over your shoulders. Why had he never mentioned you before? Were you the reason that they broke up? No Levi had assured her that it wasn’t like that, said he wasn’t seeing anyone else. She tried to stop herself from going down that rabbit hole, but she couldn’t seem to. Before she really knew what she was doing, she had clicked on your profile which she was almost disappointed to find as public. This meant that there was nothing stopping her from judging every perfect image that was posted, and to her pleasant surprise, there was only one photo of you and Levi. The photo was posted the week prior, the two of you were hiking in the mountains, the dusty trial behind you. Your face was flushed from the exertion of the climb, Levi seemed cool as a cucumber, his face blank and void of emotion. She scrolled through the post and found a video, the sound of your shoes crunching and Levi talking behind you were clear as day. 

“I mean come on, who uses fucking Lipton? Have some god damn class.” Levi spat, as you snorted in amusement. Petra found herself chuckling along with you at Levi’s little rant. She felt a rogue tear slide down her cheek when you showed the phone to Levi, who’s face fell from being mildly animated to apathetic once more. You cackled as he swiped the phone and the video ended abruptly. It was so innocent, it was clear from the rest of your page that you were a private person, much like Levi. With little indication that you were dating him, it left her wanting to know more. More about the girl that had taken her place, had managed to worm her way into Levi’s heart of stone and make herself comfortable. As soon as these thoughts crowded into her head, she deleted instagram all together and powered her phone down, determined to wipe her memory of the images she had seen. 

__

The music was a nice distraction from the awkwardness that hung in the air. You had arrived uncharacteristically early to Hange’s party, and consequently meeting a whole group of people that you had never met before. The new people were about your age, three young men and one stunning young woman. It was early fall and Hange’s annual bonfire bash as you all had dubbed the event. Basically you lit a massive fire, when you were younger it was your past assignments from your pervious school year, then it became just regular old wood. You tapped your finger against the cool beer bottle as you leaned up against the counter, the men were laughing obnoxiously as they dropped the alcohol that they’d brought into one of the many coolers. The woman was looking at you almost nervously, she seemed extremely on edge, shifting her weight back and forth, eyes wandering around the room in a jittery manner. You frowned, wondering what was bothering her, but ultimately deciding that it was not really your business. Erwin shimmied behind you, his hands on your shoulders as he slide past you into the kitchen. You caught his arm, clinging to his familiar presence. 

“Erwin.” you hissed as he stooped to reach your level. 

“Who are these people?” you asked as you held his bicep firmly in your grasp. He pulled away and looked at you with a confused expression. 

“You mean Levi didn’t tell you?” He said slowly, clearly he was unsure if it was his place to speak on the relationship between Levi and these people. 

“No....” You said carefully, not wanting to make Erwin uncomfortable. 

“Oh well they used to work in the same department before Levi switched.” He said, he looked over to the men and motioned for them to come over, they ambled over with curious expressions. 

“What’s up Erwin?” the dark haired man asked as he looked between the two of you. 

“Just thought I’d ought to introduce you to (Y/n) here, she’s an old friend of ours from high school.” Erwin explained, his hand still comfortingly placed on your mid back. You waved shyly and smiled at all of them, including the girl. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” The blonde with a ponytail said, outstretching his hand to shake yours. 

“I’m Eld, this is Gunther, Oluo, and that fine young lady over there is Petra.” He said, pointing at all of them respectively. 

“It’s so nice to meet you guys!” you said sweetly as you struck up a conversation with Oluo about what they thought about the department that they worked in. It didn’t go unnoticed that Petra remained nearly silent, her amber eyes wide and a bit fearful. When the interns arrived, the men were quick to go help them carry in the alcohol that they brought, leaving you and Petra alone in the kitchen. You cocked your head at her as you poured some pretzels into a large bowl. The warm glow of the setting sun cast a halo over her head and you couldn’t help but voice your admiration for her. 

“You’re really pretty.” you gushed as she blushed at your words and turned to look at you with wide eyes. 

“So are you...” She returned the compliment and you smiled, feeling more at ease now that the two of you were alone. 

“So how long have you known Hange?” You asked conversationally as you crumpled up the bag and tossed it into the trash. 

“Hm let’s see...about four years now?” She responded with a bit of a wistful tone. 

“Really? I’m surprised we haven’t met sooner!” you chuckled as the two of you opened a bottle of wine and poured it into two large glasses. The two of you strolled out into the bark yard, where Hange and Moblit were chucking large pallets of wood onto the fire pit. You and Petra sat down in two lawn chairs watching as Hange and Moblit bickered over if it was safe enough to light the fire with gasoline. 

“I am too, you seem....like a really nice girl.” Petra said a bit downcast as she looked deeply into her wine. 

“So do you! We should grab breakfast ooo or maybe even brunch sometime!” You said excitedly and Petra sat there in awe, wondering if there was even a mean bone in your body. Or if you had any clue that she had dated Levi. 

“Yeah...this is kind of random but...are you dating Levi?” She blurted out, her face turning to look at you with a flushed expression. You nodded nonchalantly and took another sip of your wine. 

“Yeah we just started dating about a year ago.” You said with a shrug, Petra inhaled, readying herself for the next words that would either make or break the future relationship between the two of you. 

“Did...you know we dated?” she said, cringing when the words left her mouth. She sounded crazy and she knew it, but she felt obligated to clear the air between you before it got bad. 

“Hm I think he mentioned it once or twice, and Hange told me about you when you first started dating.” You said looking up thoughtfully, your tone held no malice or any sign of ill will. 

“You’re not...” 

“Insecure? Nah, and don’t take that like I’m being cocky! I just mean that...” 

“No, no let’s just not do this. I’m sorry for bringing it up. God I’m such a bitch.” Petra went to stand and you followed her, catching her wrist. 

“It’s alright really, I don’t care about what happened between you and Levi. It’s frankly none of my business, I just...wanna be friends with you.” you smiled at her sheepishly as she looked at you with wide eyes. 

“Oh” She managed to say dumbly. 

“That is if you want to be friends.” You said, letting go of her hand and giving her some space. 

“Yeah...I think that I’d like that very much.” Petra said with a bright smile. 

__

In honor of Women’s History month, I couldn’t bare to write something that was a stereotypical jealous ex, so I did the next best thing and wrote this more geared towards the reader and Petra bringing each other up instead of tearing one another down. As someone who was apart of the fandom back in like 2014 I am way too familiar with writers turning Petra into a psycho bitch, and I don’t like that. SO I hope that this is good enough to fit the prompt! 

[hoodieofholland]

Hi if possible could you write a image where the reader isn’t famous but is dating Tom, he goes lives on Instagram and starts letting fans join and ask him a questions. You get picked to join and both of you have to try and keep a straight face without giving it away.🙂 doesn’t have to be exactly this is obviously just whatever you feel like! Thank you💕

tom+instagram here we go :)

Hope you like it!!

Warnings: language, that's all :)

"What are you doing?”, you ask your boyfriend through the phone, pressed between your ears and shoulder, while you wandered around the house to get some tasks done. There were noises in the other side of the call, and you could distinguish Harrison’s voice.

“Nothin’, just setting things up for my live. Harrison’s been helping me, you know how I suck at this whole Instagram thing”, he explains, humming as he scrolled through his phone, you on speaker.

You giggle, “I know it pretty well. Think I’m gonna just take a rest and watch you struggling online”.

“Ha-ha, very funny, girlfriend”, he puffs, but you can almost hear his smile behind that sarcastic tone. “But I’d appreciate if you showed up. Who knows, I could just introduce you to all of my fans”.

You take in a sharp breath, contemplating if that was simply a joke or if there was a true desire behind that statement. You chew on your lips and keep silence.

The two of you have been in a relationship for almost one and half an year now, but you managed - only God knows how - to keep discreet about it, keeping it a secret. For his friends, Tom had an amazing girlfriend, whom everyone pretty much appreciated spending time with. For the rest of the world, Tom was a single, charmer and desired young Hollywood actor.

It wasn’t like he wanted to keep you his little secret. It was pretty much the opposite, actually. After your first six months together, Tom had tried to convince you to reveal your relationship, too tired of not being able to show off your love outside the comfort of his house. But you wasn’t willing to do that just yet. And after one and a half year, there you were, still afraid of how things might end up if you told them the truth.

You loved Tom, and you loved the fact the he was such a talented, hardworking man, but the fact that he was also a Hollywood star, known in the whole world, made you feel cornered. You didn’t want people to judge your relationship, to judge you or to give your relationship some kind of approval. You just wasn’t ready to give up your anonymity and become Tom Holland’s girlfriend.

Things were just perfect the way they were. You wanted it to stay like that for a little more time.

But you knew the day would eventually come. It was hard to not be spotted in the street with Tom by your side. You’d never show up in an event together, always making sure to only hold hands or show affection when behind four walls, only when you were pretty sure there was no paparazzi following him. You didn’t like that neither. You wanted to act normal, to have nice date nights with him, to walk outside in summer with Tessa. You just wanted to be who you were with him inside his or your house.

“I was- I was kidding, love”, he said sheepishly, and you could sense the nervousness on his voice, chuckling slightly to hide it from you. “It would be dumb, right?”

You swallow hard. “Uh- no. No, it’s fine. I mean, I’m not ready yet, but it’s alright. I know you were joking”. You curse yourself for being so dramatic about it, but you couldn’t help it. “So, when is it starting?”

“In about five minutes actually. I gotta go now, okay?”

“Yeah”, you smile tightly. “Okay, gonna watch here. Love ya”.

“Love you, darling”.

You both hang up and you sit on the edge of your bed, laying down and closing your eyes, puffing your cheeks out and rubbing your temples. “Damn it”.

Before you can call him back and tell him you were sorry over it, you sit properly on your bed and open your Instagram app, searching for him. After those exact five minutes, he was going live. You smile at the picture of him on your screen. He looked handsome, as always, but added up to the fact that he was far away, in Atlanta, while shooting Spider-Man 3.

You watch as he explains what he was going to do in his live, waving to Harrison right behind him, distracted on his own phone, saying that he was there as a support team. You laugh at how clueless he is. He starts to pick fans to join live and ask him questions. You were pretty surprised that he was allowed to do that, not giving away any spoiler, but he managed it after all.

You were having fun watching him struggle to say some usernames, and kinda surprised at how bold some comments on the bottom of your screen were. He’s single, remember?, you think to yourself and sigh frustrated. You could just go on and tell everybody, put an end to this whole situation during interviews, where Tom was always questioned about his love life and got uncomfortable about it, where you were upset for not being able to tell them to stop shipping him with girls he wasn't interested in, cause he was with you and you only.

But instead, you just sat there, watching your gorgeous boyfriend smiling sheepishly at the camera while a fan asked him about some photos that were taken of him and his co-star a while ago. He shrugged it off and told her they were just friends, but the comments made it very clear they weren't buying it.

"Alright, gonna pick another one, lemme see..."

You get yourself distracted by the concentrated face he put on, a small wrinkle between his brows, and then it happened.

All of a sudden, you see yourself on the screen, half of it filled with Tom's video, just like the previous fan. Your eyes go wide as soon as you realize you're going live with Tom.

"Shit!" He curse immediately, eyes bugging out and looking for something on his screen to take you out of it. "Sorry, I think I just tapped the wrong thing- fuck, how do I-?"

You're startled, looking at his agitated movements as he waves to Harrison desperately, and you try to think about what to do while being completely dumbfounded with the comments going on. Most of them were laughing at the fact that Tom kept being clueless with Instagram, but some of them actually commenting about you.

She's so pretty!!

Omg i think i saw her with tom somewhere

Is she the girl that was at the ffr set and no one new about??

You are about to close your app and leave them all behind, but you can't seem to be able to take your eyes off of the screen. A thought is stuck in your mind, where those people could actually know you, talk to you, and this shouldn't be so hard.

Tom wanted it. He wanted to show the world that you were his girl, wanted to go places with you and not need a whole scheme to protect you from camera lenses.

So instead of just stepping out of this, you decided to wave your hand at them, sit on your bed a little straighter and smile.

"Hey, Tom", you said, leaving it up to him if he wanted to say it now or not. He looked at you with wide eyes, Harrison by his side, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

"Hey, uh, y/u/n" he tried to play it cool, not so sure about what he wanted to do. "Nice user". And just like that, the two of you played along as two complete strangers for a whole ten minutes, until you said your goodbyes and Tom were left alone to end his live.

You felt incredibly happy with the nice comments and about how easy it was for you to make an appearance for the first time. It wasn't like you had just told them the truth, but it was something, and you felt more comfortable about it now.

Tom called you to a video call as soon as he ended the live, equally amazed by how this turned out. He apologized for bringing you to it, and you told him it was fine, that you even liked showing up.

"I think... I think that I'm ready", you said, biting your lips nervously. "I mean, if you are too".

He went silent for a few seconds before saying. "Wow. Really? Yeah, I mean, I'm more than ready. It doesn't have to be like an announcement, we could just, I don't know, go out and just wait till they-"

"Guys!" You heard Harrison shout somewhere in Tom's living room.

Tom turned his head to look at something Haz was showing and the blonde quickly made his way to appear on your screen.

On his phone there was a page with headline: Tom Holland goes live and fans spot his supposed girlfriend, y/n y/l/n.

Harrison scrolled through the page, where a lot of evidences of you and Tom being together were collected, when both of you were spotted in the same places at the same time or even one of you at Far From Home's set.

"Uh, so..." Tom twisted his nose. "I don't think we'll need to tell them anymore".

********

Taglist (add yourself to my taglist, link at navigation)

@dreamy-clousds @pinkrockstar19

@onyourgoddamnleft @spideyspeaches

@miraclesoflove @heavenlyholland

@zspideyy @marlenetough

@nsxvision @xoxohollands

@siriuslyslyslytherin @mathletemadison

@tomshufflepuff

[wroteasongabouther]

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 1

a/n: oh my god guys it’s finally here!😬 i really hope i didn’t hype myself up too much and that you guys actually like it. overall i just wanted to put out a story that revolved around christmas and this is what i came up with! so without me babbling too much, i hope you enjoy part 1 of my new story and as always any feedback/reblogs are very much appreciated.

and of course, thank you to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for beta reading this part for me and giving this rusty old writer the help i needed lol

word count: 17k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some sexual tension, and an over consumption of starbucks holiday drinks.

fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist 

“What floor?” Harry asks, eyes stuck on the many buttons in the elevator instead of seeing who had entered the small space with him. He can tell it’s a woman, and they smelt lovely.

“Six please,” her soft voice replies.

Harry looks over his shoulder in what he hopes is a smooth motion to get a quick peek at who was behind that sweet voice. Her eyes were squinting slightly as she smiles at him. She must be my new neighbour, he thinks as he hits the number six button and it lights up before the elevator begins to move. He steps back, standing in the opposite corner of the young woman. Harry assumes that she is maybe a few years younger than him, but one thing he knew for sure was that she was very pretty. He may even say she was stunning. She's all bundled up with a long coat and a thick scarf as he guesses she had just gone out for some shopping, judging by the few large white paper bags hanging off her arm.

“Did you just recently move in?” He questions, catching her eyes switching from gazing at the wall to his own instead.

She smiles again and nods, “yeah.”

“I thought I heard someone move in beside me,” he exclaims. He was certain that someone had moved in beside him. It caused him a bit of a headache hearing all the moving around. And then on top of that, his new neighbour had decided to get right to hammering in on the wall they shared. Little did he know, there was a determined and beautiful girl on the other side.  

“Oh you’re my neighbour then?” She says, bringing Harry back from his memory of a few days ago.

“Harry,” he introduces himself, reaching a hand out into the space between them. She switches her Starbucks holiday cup into her other hand in order to shake his. Her hand is warm from holding the drink and it causes Harry's stomach to erupt with little bitty butterflies.

“Y/N,” she says in the same gentle voice as before. He wanted to hear her talk more. There was something about the soft tone of her voice, like he could listen to her speak into the late hours and early mornings and never once get tired of it. He blinks a few times and drops her hand at his intimate thought.

Harry didn't believe in love at first sight per say, but he was known to develop an infatuation of sorts very quickly. A crush as some would call it. Well, to be precise, Mitch teases him the most of his little crushes. There was that one time that Harry fumbled over his words over and over again when they had gone for dinner and had a rather attractive waitress, having asked for her number at the end of the night too. Mitch mocked him for days about it, asking if she had ever texted him back - she didn’t. And Harry didn’t even want to think about the time he spilled an entire blended margarita on his white vans when a certain handsome lifeguard had winked at him during their trip in LA last summer. Mitch still doesn’t let that incident go either.

The elevator doors open, and Harry gives her a smile and motions with a hand for her to walk out before he does. His mom must’ve raised him well, Y/N thinks at her new neighbours mannerisms. First holding the elevator for her, then offering to press the elevator button, and now letting her exit first. Suppose it was just minor things, but growing up in this lovely city that is New York meant she was used to the rudeness of people and sadly the simplest of gestures can make her heart beat just a bit faster in her chest.

“If you uh,” Harry pauses as Y/N stops at her front door but looks back at him as he speaks. Harry slows his steps to keep eye contact with her. “If you ever need anything, don’t feel shy to knock on my door.”

Y/N smiles again, nodding at his offer while she twists her key in the lock and opens her front door. Harry's walking backwards now, just a few steps to that same door he’s saying she can knock on. His eye contact is intense, but addicting, like every word she had to say to him mattered. His eyes are green, just green, nothing crazy and yet she found them very endearing. Would it be cliche of her to say she swore she saw them sparkle?

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” she says and before she can say anything else, she steps into her new apartment and shuts the door behind her.

Y/N finds herself standing there for a moment, remembering every word Harry had spoken to her as she slips out of her shoes. She then remembers his facial features while undoing her coat and hanging it up along with her scarf. The bit of facial hair he was sporting, how it seemed like it may have taken a while to grow so he kept it minimal. Or that little mole by his mouth, she even took note of that in their short time together. He had a cute nose too, she thinks. Harry takes up every inch of space in her mind for over an hour before she’s brought out of whatever dream state fog she was in. She lets out a deep breath and shakes her head a little before going about wrapping the presents she had bought earlier in the day while sipping her Christmas Starbucks drink, falling back in love with the holidays all over again.

“No, no, no, no,” Y/N groans as she twists and turns the knobs for her shower, and yet, nothing happens. Only a few drops fall to the tiled floor causing her to let out another string of curses. “This can not be happening,” she says.

But it was. Y/N’s hair was a mess, beyond greasy and a bit matted from her sleep last night. Not to mention she smelt like sweat from bringing up the box that held her new fake christmas tree this morning. She had been tempted to walk down the hall and knock on Harry's door, but she didn’t want to be annoying and fall into the stereotypes of the helpless young female living on her own for the first time. So instead she grabbed a cable knit sweater, tugged on her old dirty ugg boots, and went down in the elevator to meet with the Amazon delivery person. Little did she know that the box was way too tall for the elevator. So, she ended up bringing it up herself. All six flights of stairs, Y/N pulled and dragged that box up to her floor which caused her to break quite the sweat. Thankfully, it wasn’t so heavy, but she couldn’t help but think that she went through all of this just so she could get her new fake christmas tree up. Freaking fake! Not even a real one because apparently that wasn't allowed at her apartment building. Oh, how she was going to miss the smell of a fresh christmas tree. And oh, how she wanted to get rid of this disgusting smell of sweat she embodied now.

“Why me?” She winces, looking up at the ceiling and letting the glass door for her shower close as she gave up on the water magically appearing.

Is this the most appropriate time to not be shy and knock on Harry's door? Suddenly, her Apple watch vibrates, and she brings her arm up to see the reminder she had set before to tell her of the tight schedule she’s on for the day. With only 45 minutes left to get ready, she needed to get moving quickly. Y/N curses herself for wasting the past fifteen minutes on her phone, reading over her newest Instagram comments and aimlessly scrolling through her feed. So she tugs both sides of her purple robe that she had changed into anticipating a shower in her own home. Y/N pulls it tighter and ties the belt around her waist into a bow, and before she can give it a second thought, she’s out the door of her own apartment and starting down the hallway.

Harry didn’t know when he thought Y/N would eventually knock on his door. A part of Harry was hoping that she would have knocked sooner than a week later. But nonetheless, when there was a frantic knock on his door, he didn’t miss how his heart skips in his chest as he imagined Y/N standing on the other side. Peering through the peephole in his door he saw her standing there - in a bathrobe? Harry's brows pull together in confusion as he unlocks the door and heaves the door open.

“Is your water working?” She asks, her voice sounding as panicked as her knocking had been. But before Harry can answer she starts talking a million miles an minute. “Cause mine’s not, like not a single drop and I need to shower. So badly. And I know it’s probably super weird and rude of me to just bang on your door and ask to use your shower. Honestly, I can’t even believe I am but I am in such a hurry and I have the busiest day ahead of me with work and going to the-”

“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off abruptly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and blinks up at him. “You need to use my shower? Is that what you’re getting at?”

Harry is a bit thrown off, not once did he think she’d come knocking for this reason. He glances down the hall awkwardly. He hopes that that noisy neighbour of theirs across the hall wasn’t peeping into their conversation, or seeing Y/N in this bathrobe. Mr Matthers can be a bit of a creep, Harry thinks. At the thought he hears a creak come from behind the door that’s across the hall.

She nods, “I know it’s like super strange to ask but mine is not working and I don’t have time to figure it out.” When Harry looks back at her, he notices she’s staring down at the ground between them, her eyes blinking rapidly as if she’s realizing what she’s gotten herself into. Harry didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

“S’alright, really, come in,” Harry says while opening the door to his apartment wider.

Y/N gives him a smile of appreciation before stepping into his home. The layout of Harry’s apartment is really just the opposite of hers, but the interior design he’s gone with is a lot better.

He’s gone for the classic monochrome look with blacks, white and greys. But with pops of colour where it matters, like a blanket over the back of his large L-shaped couch that looked handmade. She wonders if a family member made it, quite liking the light blues and pinks blended together. He’s got the same hardwood flooring like her own apartment and the plain off white paint on the walls - but with a few very unique paintings hung up on them. There’s two tall shelves, full of vinyls and novels and some picture frames too, that are on either side of his large flat screen tv which he took the time to hook up on the wall. It’s got a TV show paused on the screen, in her quick glance she can’t tell what show he was watching before she knocked but it looked like a cooking show. The corners of her lips twitch up into a smile at the thought of Harry being into cooking or baking maybe. He’s got a matching chair to his couch in the living room too that looks like she could fall asleep in it within a second. Overall it simply seems more grown up than her apartment - more put together and clean, that’s for sure.

To give her some credit, she has just moved in while she’s sure Harry’s been here for a while. Harry steps away from the door after locking it again, taking a few steps in order to be in her line of sight. With an arm thrown up, finger pointing down the hall, he gives Y/N another smile. He can’t help it, she looks rather adorable in that purple bathrobe. Was that all she was wearing? He thought to himself. He clears his throat as his mind goes on to imagine what’s under that plush purple material she’s wearing.

“Bathroom’s the first on the left,” he states, “did you bring your own soap or anything?”

“Honestly, no, I just kind of ran out of my place in quite a hurry and didn’t think twice as I got the sudden nerve to come over here.”

“Well, lucky for you I care about hair care, so there’s some good shampoos and even a nice hair oil to put into your hair afterwards when it’s damp. It’s in a small clear bottle with a white and gold label, by my toothbrush,” Harry explains. Y/N nods and starts towards the bathroom. With each step further into Harry’s home, she realizes what exactly she’s done. She can’t believe it really - just asking a complete stranger to let her shower in their home. She could be a murderer for all Harry knew, and he just opened his home up so freely. She steps into the bathroom, switching on the lights and the fan, she shuts the door and sighs. Lifting her arm up her Apple watch lights up to show the time. She had twenty minutes tops to shower, that’s all.

The bathroom is clean, very clean actually. Y/N lets her gaze wander around the space for a moment. There’s matching hand towels and all his skin and hair care are placed neatly on the small counter space too. She assumes he’s a bit of a neat freak. Turning to the shower, she opens the glass door gently and instantly reaches for the silver knobs. As she turns them water falls from the showerhead above her.

“Thank God,” she whispers while looking up at the water.

Y/N adjusts it to her preferred temperature and then she works on untying the knot of her robe. Words can’t describe how grateful she is that it held together in front of Harry. Him seeing her in the robe and with her hair in the state it’s in is embarrassing enough. Honestly, she can’t believe she even knocked on his door in it, and without any clothes to change into afterwards too. Stupid, she thinks while opening the glass door once more and stepping into the shower.

As Harry had said, there’s many bottles littering the built in shelves of the shower. Her fingers lazily turn the bottles so the labels face her. They’re all scented lavender of some sorts, helping with curly hair and volume. Well that explains why his hair looks so lovely, Y/N thinks as she opens a bottle of shampoo and squeezes it till a good amount falls into her other hand. As she hums ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ she lathers up her hair and massages her scalp. Rinsing it out after and then doing the same with the conditioner. While she lets the conditioner sit in her hair she scans the few other bottles on the shelves for a body wash. She didn’t want to come out of the shower smelling like a pre-teen boy, but she also did not want to smell like sweat. Goats milk and lavender infused, Y/N reads the label of what looks to do a locally owned product. She can’t help but smile as she reaches for it and pours some into her hands before rubbing it over her skin. There’s something so sweet knowing that Harry supports local businesses. He really doesn’t seem like the guys that Y/N is used to.

Three sharp knocks on the door startle Y/N, bringing her out of her day dreams. She quickly brings her arms up to her chest, trying to save herself some modesty if Harry did walk in. Because of course she didn’t think to lock the door. God, what if Harry is a murderer? Y/N thinks. She doesn’t know him, he could very well walk in here with a large kitchen knife and stab her multiple times in the chest while the water begins to run red and she dies right here all because she thought his dimpled smile and green eyes were enduring. Didn’t she learn anything from the whole Ted Bundy thing? Hello, hot guy doesn’t immediately mean nice!

“Y/N?” Harry calls out from the other side of the door, raising his voice just slightly so she could hear it over the running water. She shakes her head from her ridiculous thought - no more Criminal Minds at night for her, she takes the quick mental note.

“Yes?” She responds.

“I just realized I didn’t give you a towel,” he says, his voice sounding strained as he closes his eyes and tries to not imagine his neighbour naked in his shower. Harry’s fist tightens around the towel as his mind ignores him and thinks of how the water is dripping down her skin.

“Oh, yeah,” she breathes out. Looking around the bathroom beyond the foggy glass. There weren't any towels that she could see. Maybe they were under the sink.

“So I uh, I grabbed one for you. I can just open the door really fast and drop it in, I wouldn’t look in I swear, I’d face the hallway and just reach through,” he clarifies, “wait, you locked the door didn’t you?”

“Actually, I didn’t,” Y/N says, “so yeah just drop it in, please and thank you,”

Harry nods, regardless of the fact Y/N can’t see him. He takes a deep breath before turning the doorknob and opening the door just a crack. The towel doesn’t quite fit through, so he opens it a bit more. His eyes are on the towel as he makes sure it gets into the bathroom. He notices the steam pillowing in the small space and just before he looks the other way, he sees Y/N’s purple bathrobe on the floor. Only her purple bathrobe. Harry swallows and drops the towel to the floor and quickly shuts the door again. Y/N jumps at the sudden slam of the door, her heart having been beating out of her chest as she stood under the warm stream of water and listened to Harry deliver the towel.

He spins around and walks away from the bathroom in a brisk walk, making it to his kitchen in record time. He takes a few breaths and blinks at the view from his kitchen window above the sink. It’s beginning to snow. Something tells him this will excite Y/N - just a feeling he has. He hardly knows the girl and he’s been conjuring up versions of her in his head these past seven days. He’d heard her play music through the walls Tuesday night, he recognized the artist after a few moments. Van Morrison, one of his favourites. What were the odds? He had thought. But then he quickly shut that thought down because many people liked Van Morrison, and just because his very cute neighbour liked the same music he did, that didn’t mean she was meant for him.

Then on Thursday in the middle of the day he had seen her running across the street from his apartment. One thing he loved about his apartment facing the front of the building is how he got to see people coming and going. That day it looked as though she was carrying a take out bag from his favourite restaurant. Again, what were the odds that she liked the same place? But again, he had another hard conversation with himself saying that it was a rather popular place in this area and lots of people liked to go there. Y/N was still a stranger to him. A naked and attractive stranger who was in his bathroom right now.

Harry breathes in deeply and leans both hands at either side of his sink as he watches the large snowflakes fall over New York City. He still couldn’t believe he lived here sometimes. Having grown up in a rather small town in Northern England, where the most exciting thing was the bakery he used to work in as a young teen or maybe the fun graffiti on some of the walls downtown, living in NYC always seemed a bit unrealistic to think of. But this was always a dream of his. To be in one of the biggest cities in the United States and doing what he loved the most.

“It’s snowing?” Y/N’s voice full of irritation catches Harry off guard. He turns around to see her standing in the threshold between his kitchen and living room. That purple robe, which would be making an appearance in his dreams he’s sure of, is back on her now clean body while the towel he had given her is wrapped around her hair atop of her head.

“You don’t like the snow?” Harry questions, both of his brows raised high at how off he was about his instinct of her loving the snow.

“No, I mean, yes I do,” she shakes her head slightly, “I just don't like driving it in. New York drivers already freaking suck and the moment snow starts falling it’s like they forget how to drive altogether.” Y/N explains, crossing her arms at her chest.

“It’s the same in London, nearly got into a few accidents in my early years of driving thanks to it,” Harry reveals. Y/N smiles at the knowledge about himself he had let slip, regardless of how irrelevant it is.

“Anyways,” she sighs, “thank you for letting me barge in here and use your shower.”

“It’s no problem, really,” Harry assures her.

“No seriously, you saved me a lot of trouble.”

Harry’s chest swells at her words, mirroring her smile as he stuffs his hands into the front pocket of his trousers and leans back against the edge of the counter. Y/N takes this time to look over Harry’s outfit. He’s got on a cream collared ribbed t-shirt, a beaded necklace adorning his neck, a pair of brown pants that flare out and nearly hid his white sock covered feet. He doesn't dress like the men Y/N sees day to day. It's different, kind of old school, but she likes it. Suits him, she thinks, despite the fact that she barely knows him.

“You’ve got to drive somewhere?” Harry questions, unsure if he’s prying.

“Yeah, JFK unfortunately,” she frowns.

“That’s going to be a nightmare,” Harry says.

“Thanks for the reminder, yeah,” Y/N teases him while fighting back the smile pulling at her mouth.

“Sorry, I just meant that it’s sort of a long drive and airport terminals are a pain, that's all.”

“I’m just bugging you. It most definitely is going to be a nightmare,” Y/N agrees with a chuckle, “and I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.” She adds while jabbing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of her own apartment. Harry nods and notices how her robe’s a bit looser than before as she drops her arms and it falls a few inches down her shoulder - exposing more of her soft looking skin. Harry has to look away and walk towards his front door with Y/N before his imagination gets the best of him.

Harry unlocks the door and holds it open for Y/N to walk out of his home. He liked having her in his space. Harry internally curses himself for yet another intimate thought about his neighbour fogs up his mind. Just as she steps over the threshold of his apartment, Y/N spins on her heels quickly and reaches up with both hands to grab the twisted up towel around her hair. Harry nearly comes undone right then and there. The sight of her wet hair falling down effortlessly around her freshly washed face causes Harry’s mouth to feel dry suddenly. But as she makes the move to reach up, pulling it off of her head, and then holding out the towel in front of her, all of this causes her robe to fall even more off of her shoulders. Now both of her shoulders were fully exposed for him to see. Which Y/N notices right away and blushes, rushing to try and readjust herself, then only holding the towel with one hand while she bares her other arm over her chest to keep the robe from falling open completely.

“Nearly stole your towel,” Y/N breathes out.

She’s distracted by how her robe is slipping apart and how Harry’s eyes are falling with it. Harry clears his throat and takes the towel from her, giving her a chance to fix her robe, and he leans against his door for support as his head spins from the scene he has played out in his head. Her robe falling apart, seeing the swell of her breasts, how her nipples must look. He imagines they’re hard from the chill in the hallway, pebbling into little buds. Then he’s imagining how he’d pull her back into his apartment, kissing and touching all over her skin till she’s left breathless and begging for more.

“Thanks,” Harry says and drops his arm to hold the towel down at his side.

“I owe you one,” Y/N states, “for letting me use the shower,” she adds. She’s not sure what else he would think she’s talking about, but she just felt the need to clarify. And she really needed to get back to her own apartment and finish getting ready. “See you around, Harry,” she says with a smile before walking away and hurrying into her home.

Harry thinks of how he should've wished her a safe flight, or even said goodbye. But instead he heard her door shut and followed suit by closing his own. Harry walks into his living room - discarding the towel on the back of his large arm chair, before moving his acoustic guitar from where it was laying on his couch and taking a seat. He then reaches for his cell phone that was left on the coffee table. Opening his contact, he finds the building's maintenance number and calls them.

“Hey Phil, how are you doing?... Good, I’m good yeah, uh, I’m just calling because the water in 602 isn’t working...Yeah Y/N, she actually had to leave in a bit of a rush, so I just wanted to make sure someone got in there as soon as possible to check it out,” Harry explains the situation to the building’s head maintenance man. “I’m not entirely sure when she’ll be back home, maybe you could give her a quick call and double check... Just being a friendly neighbour, Phil… Thanks Phil, have a good day and say hi to Georgia and the kids for me… Bye.”

Harry hangs up the phone and sets it back down onto the table, looking at the open notebook beside it. He hadn’t written anything all morning. Just had a few good cords stuck in his head. Harry picks up the guitar once more and plays the cords.

“Tangled wet hair, soft silk skin, looking so good it should be a sin,” Harry sings softly. It’s not his best and it’s not even that good, if he’s honest with himself. But it seems that Y/N sparked some inspiration inside of him. He grabs his pen, and starts scribbling down the words that now flow through his mind. Finishing with writing ‘Plush Purple Robe’ in capital letters before dropping the pen and going back to strumming the guitar.

He wrote nearly an entire song, thanks to how Y/N looked in that damn bathrobe standing in his apartment, and he just knew this would result in some teasing words from his friends when he brought it into their studio session next week.

Y/N was tired and her third Starbucks of the day wasn’t helping her out at all. She brings a hand up to cover yet another yawn that escapes her. Her eyes feel heavy, drooping as she blinks slowly a few times at her screen. She feels as though she might doze off if it wasn’t for the loud bang of the mail cart smacking against the elevator doors signalling it’s arrival for the day. It jolts her upright once again and she takes another big gulp of coffee, and sends a prayer up above, before she begins clicking away again at her laptop trying to finalize her schedule for the upcoming month of December.

Fittings, photoshoots, buyers meetings, and more fittings, there was rarely any free time in the first two weeks of the month. But thankfully her boss isn’t a complete Grinch and gave her minimal work during the last two weeks. Plus Y/N really did love her job. She lived for the magic world of fashion. The way her bustling office just meant that the designer’s creations were coming to life as A list celebrities and New York's elite fell in love with the pieces she’s gone through lengths to get for them.

She also loved Christmas just as much, if not more, as her job. Even thinking about everything she was looking forward to this holiday season made her feel all giddy inside now. Growing up in the city meant she knew the thrill of skating in Central Park and seeing the Rockefeller Christmas tree being lit up. Her smile was as bright as the lights. She loved going to the annual Christmas markets that were held; walking around with hot chocolate in her hands as she browsed the many homemade soaps and ornaments, and even clothing too. Y/N even enjoyed shopping at the Macy’s down the street and gasping at their holiday displays, and found herself buying a few too many decorations for her home while there. Over the past few days - with any free time she had off work - she had gone into full blown decorating mode in her apartment. It was like Santa’s village and it filled her with so much joy as she set everything into its rightful place in her new home, smiling from ear to ear at the twinkling lights and tinsel lining the perimeter of every room.

“Earth to Y/N,” her co-worker, Sammy, sings while leaning back in his desk chair to try and make eye contact with her.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, zoning back into reality and turning her own chair away from her desk that was up against the large floor to ceiling windows.

“Daydreaming about that hot new neighbour of yours?” Sammy teases her with a smug look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

“No, I was not,” she says, “I’m regretting telling you about him already,” she adds. Sammy returns the eye roll.

“There’s no shame in having some eye candy as a neighbour you know,”

“Yeah there is when-“

“Y/N!” Her name suddenly being yelled across the room cuts her sentence off and makes Sammy and herself look over to where it came from. They both see their boss, Amanda, standing in the doorway of her office with both hands up in the air and a look of annoyance across her face. Y/N’s watch vibrates just on time to remind her of her meeting with Amanda. She’s always at least five minutes early; suppose daydreaming about the holidays - not her hot new neighbour - had put her behind schedule a bit.

“Better not keep her waiting,” Sammy says as he rolls his chair back over to his own desk while Y/N closes her laptop, taking it and a notebook with her quickly before slipping her feet back into her black heels. She always took them off when she sat at her desk to give her poor feet a break. As she broke into a speed walk across the office space, nearly avoiding the mail cart, she internally went over what today's meeting entailed.

“Sorry Amanda,” Y/N apologizes as she steps into the office, closing the glass door behind her quietly.

“It’s alright, you’re rarely even a few minutes behind that schedule of yours, so I was more surprised than anything,” Amanda states as she smooths her dress out and takes a seat at her desk. Y/N takes a seat in the chair across her desk, setting her laptop on her lap and then the notebook on top of it while she keeps her favourite pen in hand. It had a cheesy Christmas sweater snowflake pattern on it, which Y/N had bought a whole set for her and Sammy at Target last week.

“I wanted to quickly talk about your time with Miss Woods a couple days ago,” Amanda says, referring to one of the clients from North Carolina that had visited recently. “She said you showed her great hospitality and were a true New Yorker in her eyes, her words exactly.” Amanda gives Y/N a proud smile. “So, great job. She ended up purchasing those Gucci purses we had bought in hopes she’d like them even though she didn't ask for them. All thanks to you putting her in such a good mood, really.”

“Well she was a blast to be around, age really didn't slow her down,” Y/N and Amanda share a laugh. “She turned up my radio every time we got in my car, ordered doubles at dinner and brunch, and even talked about boy issues with me. It was a great time,” Y/N explains while adjusting herself in her seat and crossing a leg over the other casually.

“I think it’s your energy. Your love for this city can be infectious sometimes Y/N,” Amanda says. Y/N’s lips pull up into a smile at her words, they made her feel warm inside.

“Thank you,” she says softly with a nod.

“Now, onto what’s happening over this next week, let’s see how our schedules look,” Amanda starts as she opens her large planner than was always either on her desk or brought home in her large Louis Vuitton purse.

“I got an email from the lovely Mrs. Archibald this morning,” Y/N states. Amanda shakes her head as her face twists up at the mention of one of their bigger clients who happens to be married to the richest man in New York City. It’s just too bad she’s a real bitch sometimes because her attitude could make doing their job a bit harder at times. But Amanda and Y/N loved a challenge, and Mrs Archibald was just that. “She has a last minute dinner party tomorrow and she needs the newest item from Gucci that we can find immediately,” Y/N explains.

“Shit, our new stuff from Gucci doesn’t come in till next Monday,” Amanda curses, eyes roaming around her desk as if the answer to her problem would pop up somewhere.

“I know, which is why I went ahead and called Greg at the store on Fifth and Fiftieth, he said they just got a handful of exclusive holiday pieces early and would gladly have one of us pick a couple items up for Mrs Archibald,” Y/N says. Amanda’s sour look fades instantly and is replaced with a wide smile.

“What would I do without you, honestly!” Amanda exclaims. “Head over to Gucci after lunch today, and then we’ll get Mrs Archibald in first thing tomorrow.”

“Will do,” Y/N says while jotting down her after lunch plans onto a blank page in her notebook.

“How’s your influencer work going for you?” Amanda asks, her eyes on her planner in front of her instead.

“It’s been good, getting closer to five hundred thousand every day. I think the holidays will push me over the mark soon enough,” Y/N states.

“Great, make sure you’re getting close up shots of the dresses Greg shows you. Tease the people of what an exclusive holiday gown looks like,” Amanda suggests. Y/N smiles and jots down the note.

Having an audience was never the goal for Y/N. In fact, she thought of suspending her Instagram account all together once she got the promotion at work. She was worried that it would cause a conflict of interest, but Amanda and the rest of the team saw it as a plus. Having so many people follow Y/N’s life, being interested in what she’s interested in, wanting to get their hands on what she had, all lead to good publicity for the company. It even got them a few A list celebrities because of her account as they saw the company’s name in her bio, which led to contacting the company about setting some fittings up.

And with that set up, they settle into the rest of their itinerary for the week, making note of who needed to be involved with what, and who would be coming into their offices. Jennifer freaking Aniston was scheduled for a fitting this Friday and Y/N was praying she made it back from picking up an order of Louis Vuitton scarfs in time to see her in her custom grown that their team's seamstresses had been working tirelessly on with Prada’s team.

By the end of her and Amanda’s meeting, it was time for lunch. Sammy was waiting by her desk with his black Gucci backpack in hand that Y/N was sure held a Kardashian sized salad. Y/N was glad she meal-prepped teriyaki chicken and rice, so she didn’t have to eat yet another salad seeing as Sammy had gotten her into the over sized salad eating last month; she’s had enough of it.

“I’ve gotta head over to Gucci on Fifth Ave after,” Y/N states with a smile as her and Sammy walk into the conference room that they used for lunch sometimes, shielding themselves away from work a bit - even if the walls were glass and they could still see everyone working around them.

“Lucky bitch,” Sammy grumbles, “Greg always hooks you up with some free pieces when you go there, I swear.”

“Hey it’s only been a few items, nothing crazy,” Y/N defends herself before taking a bite of her lunch.

“Oh I’m sorry, two rings and a pair of tights are nothing crazy? Every other influencer would kill someone for those tights. Firstly, they’re so cute. And secondly, those rings cost my monthly rent.”

“I’m not complaining about any work perks. Maybe you could come with and get to know Greg a bit and get your own ring or two?”

Sammy chews his mouth full of salad, “no thanks, it’s so freaking cold out there. I’ll stay inside where it’s warm,” he says.

“Then don’t complain when I get another pair of tights and you don’t,” Y/N scowls playfully.

“I’d look so much better in those tights, you can’t even deny it,” Sammy says and pokes his fork at Y/N. She raises her hands up in surrender.

“Oh I wouldn’t dare to deny it, ever,” she smiles. They eat a few bites in silence. Y/N starts to feel a bit more energized by the protein she’s eating, thankfully. She now had a long journey to the Gucci store and back as well as a ton of emails to filter through too - which she’s sure will follow her home till the late hours of the night.

“What are you planning to wear for the Christmas office party?” Sammy chimes in, his eyes still on his phone.

“I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs and brings up her Pinterest app on her phone. “I found this outfit and am dying over it every day but I really should just find something in my closet and restyle it, I'm getting more broke by the day.”

“Blame your excessive christmas shopping habits,” Sammy deadpans while glancing at her phone screen.

“I’m aware of why I'm broke, thank you,” she deadpans back, narrowing her eyes at him. “Maybe Greg will have it in his heart to lend me a special piece for the party,” Y/N taunts Sammy with a smile on her face.

“Shut up,” he groans. Y/N laughs and is just about to shut her phone screen off when a phone call comes through from her apartment building maintenance.

“Hello?” She answers. “Hi Phil… Oh that’s awesome news thank you so much for getting it fixed so soon… Yes, I’m glad Harry called in about it right away too…” Y/N notices how her friend's eyebrows fly up at the mention of Harry’s name. “Lovely, thanks again Phil… Have a great day… Bye,” she hangs up the phone and sets it on the table in front of her.

“What did Harry do now?” Sammy questions without a second to spare. Y/N rolls her eyes, but can’t stop herself as she smiles.

“He called in about the water in my apartment like right after I made a mad dash out of his place to go pick up Mrs Woods in time. I hadn't even thought of calling about it and then I got a call on my way to the airport from the head maintenance guy saying Harry told him about it and asked for verbal permission to enter my apartment while I was out,” Y/N explains to him. She was still shocked by Harry’s kindness. Not only did he offer his shower to her, but he then got hers check out that same day. She probably wouldn't have called about it till the next day, if she was lucky to have any free time to stop by her house between entertaining Mrs Woods.

“What a neighbourly thing to do,” Sammy says smugly.

“Shut up, he’s just a nice guy.”

“Mhmm,” Sammy hums while stabbing his salad again for another bite.

The two of them continue to enjoy their lunch break and catch up on what’s been going on in the office. Their fellow associate Kate was trying to sleep with the mail cart boy. He seems freshly twenty one, if that. Just seven years younger than Kate, but she’s a well known cougar - it’s been a thing for, like, two years now. And Julianne was sick again, for the third time in two months. That was the extent of the office drama, sadly. Y/N packs up her bag with her left over lunch, notebook, and laptop before heading back to her desk with Sammy to get her coat and bundle up to brace the cold weather.

At least it wasn’t snowing.

The snow is coming down like a blizzard, making it hard for Harry to see in front of him. It was a colder day, his weather app had called for cloudy skies and a chance of some light flurries - but that all changed  in a split second and had Harry racing home from the coffee shop a few blocks away. He’s just praying his notebook full of new song ideas, based off his people watching this afternoon that’s now in his tote bag, doesn't get wet in the short trip he has to walk. Just as he’s about to turn left down the last block till his building, he sees a young woman struggling to walk along the sidewalk in her heels just in front of him. She’s carrying a large beige garment bag, having it folded over her arm as she tries to maneuver around the busy sidewalk and everyone is rushing to get out of the storm. Harry’s just behind her now, that’s when he recognizes the jacket and scarf.

“Y/N?” Harry says, trying to not startle her. But of course, as Y/N turns around to look behind her at whoever had just called out her name on the busy streets of New York, she slips.

“Oh my god!” She squeals, trying to keep the garment bag up so it doesn’t damage the dresses inside, but that means she doesn’t have any hands to throw out to catch herself. Harry sees her begin to fall and reaches out without hesitation. “The bag,” she says, trying to get Harry’s attention to saving the garment bag rather than her. But of course he manages to wrap his arms under hers and hold her upright, standing straight to get her back on her feet once more.

“Shit, I’m sorry, shouldn’t have scared you like that,” Harry says.

Y/N squints at him through the thick snowflakes, he’s standing so close though that she doesn’t have troubles staring into his enchanting eyes. She smiles, adjusting the dresses and her bag before motioning to their apartment building only a couple blocks away. “Let’s get out of this snow storm,” she suggests.

“Right,” Harry agrees and lets her start the walk - that way he can stick close behind in case those death heels of hers cause her to slip again.

Y/N regrets her decision of wearing heels so much right now. She’s sure her cheeks are still red from embarrassment of nearly falling on her ass in front of so many people. Harry’s seen in her purple bathrobe, which is already  embarrassing, but falling in heels in this snow storm would’ve only added to her list of making a fool of herself in front of him.

When she arrived at Gucci it was  just cloudy, but then after nearly two hours inside the store - mostly chatting with Greg and his associates, she walked outside into the blizzard. Her office was too far of a walk, she knew getting a cab or an Uber during the storm would just be a nightmare  and she didn’t want to wait around. There was no way she was going to risk taking the subway while carrying the garment bag that said Gucci right on it and have some lowlife steal thousands of dollars of designer clothes from her. So, she went with the most obvious option of getting these pieces out of the snow storm and headed  to her apartment building that was only a few blocks away, thankfully.

“Thanks for saving me back there,” Y/N says with a sigh as Harry uses his key to let them into the building. They both brush the snow off themselves as they walk across the lobby and to the elevator. “I would've been dead if this fell into a puddle or something,” she states while lifting the garment bag.

“Does that say Gucci?” Harry asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at the label on the bag.

“Yeah, I just had to pick up a few things for work,” Y/N explains vaguely. Harry has followed Gucci on Instagram for years, he loves their pieces and finds what they make to be so wonderful. He wishes he had the money to spend on a shopping trip there and yet here is his neighbour - who he may or may not be crushing on - with a large garment bag with Gucci items inside. “I can’t even imagine what Mrs Archibald would've done if I messed these up, god she'd have a fit,” Y/N says with a chuckle, looking at the floors lighting up as the elevator moved.

“Your boss?” Harry questions.

“No, a client, super rich and super bitchy,” Y/N answers, emphasizing both times she says super to really get her point across. She moves the garment bag from one arm to the other, leaning back against the elevator wall.

“Client? What kind of work do you do?” Harry tries to ask casually, not trying to seem creepy or invading in any way.

Y/N smiles, “I’m a part of the, oh so lovely, fashion industry.”

“You don’t like it?” Harry questions, eyebrows furrowed together.

“No, I do,” she corrects him.

The elevator opens then, Harry motions for Y/N to exit first as he had before. She smiles and walks down the hall to her apartment. Just as she fishes her keys from her coat pocket she turns back and looks at Harry when he walks past her. “I owe you, again, for saving my ass, literally from falling,” she says. Harry stops walking and looks at her, she smiles and tilts her head to the side. “And for calling the maintenance guy for the issues with my water,” she adds. Seems Phil spilled the beans, Harry thinks.

“I um, I wasn’t sure how long your trip was, and I just thought it’d be the nice thing to do by making sure they could get it fixed as soon as they could,” Harry explains.

“I actually didn’t go on a trip, I just had to pick someone up from the airport. But regardless it was very nice to know you thought of it for me. So thank you, I owe you, Harry,” she says again, giving him yet another one of her dreamy smiles. Harry’s heart did a little pitter patter in his chest as he looked over her face, taking in how her wispy hairs were wet from the snow that had melted on her head and how her eyes seemed to sparkle under the dim lighting of the hallway. But her lips, he’s been imagining those lips for two days now. Along with that purple bathrobe being on his floor again - his bedroom instead of the bathroom though.

“How about dinner?” Harry blurts out. Y/N had turned back to her door, having it unlocked and open as he had fallen into one of his daydreams about her. She pauses mid step and looks back at where he had stood still, her eyebrows are furrowed together as she thinks he misheard him. Oh shit, abort! Abort! Backtrack and say nevermind before she flat out rejects you, Harry thinks while he waits for her response.

“I, uh, I,” Y/N stops her stuttering and closing her eyes for a moment. She lets out a sigh and opens her eyes again to meet his nervous stare. “I have to hang this up, and change these shoes first,” she says.

“Of course,” Harry nods.

Y/N ponders over it for a moment before coming to the realization that the weather outside was truly frightful and they shouldn’t go out anywhere. “Honestly we shouldn’t go back out there. What if I just ordered something in and you came over? You like pizza?”

“Love it,” Harry smiles. Y/N nods and opens her door further, stepping in to survey the state of her apartment. It’s not messy, thank God. She had time this morning to put away her clean laundry that had taken up her couch over the past few days. There’s a couple hoodies draped over the back of the couch though, a half full glass of water on the coffee table and her kitchen has a pile of dirty dishes beside the sink that she hadn’t gotten to putting in the dishwasher yet. She quickly bends down to put away the few pairs of shoes that were kicked off in whatever direction they went, and turns on the two light switches by the door to light up her living room and hallway.

“Well, come on in,” she says as she turns back to Harry. He smiles as she lets out a deep breath and opens her front door for him.

He should’ve guessed that it would look like Santa had thrown up in her apartment. It was traditional, which Harry loved opposed to the new all white or all gold themes some people went with, but there was a lot of it. A red and green checkered throw blanket over the back of her grey couch, a decent sized tree filled with lights and tinsel and ornaments that all matched, a family of snowmen in one corner of her living room, and many little vintage looking nicknacks along her tv stand, and few shelves around the space. Not to mention the priceless looking tiny christmas village that was set up on top of the desk by her front door, fake snow laid on top to really pull it all together. So much Christmas, and he was only looking in one room. He imagined this festive feeling went throughout her entire home.

“It kind of seems like a lot whenever someone new sees all of my Christmas crap,” Y/N says, breaking Harry’s stare away from her living room and back to her now. She had hung up the Gucci bag on the closet door to her left, and had slipped out of her shoes and was now undoing the buttons of her coat. Her eyes are on the decorations around them though, looking unsure as she takes it all in.

“It’s lovely, honestly, not crap at all,” Harry assures her. Y/N turns back to look at him and mirrors his smile.

“I just have a big soft spot for the holidays, I can’t help myself from buying four Christmas themed throw pillows if they make me feel all warm inside,” she explains, motioning to the couch that did in fact have four pillows on it.

“If it makes you happy, you don’t have to have any reason for buying ‘em.”

“I suppose so,” Y/N hums, finally taking off her coat and hanging it up.

Harry quickly takes his off too as she reaches for it, to hang it beside hers. He gives her a small thanks and then takes his shoes off, setting them beside hers . Y/N has walked into the threshold to the left that led to her kitchen. He notices the tinsel hanging from the beam and smiles before taking a quick peek into her kitchen. As he guessed, it’s all decked out in Christmas stuff too. Towels and nicknacks that seem to replace everyday things like salt and pepper shakers and her soap dispenser that was spaced like a snowman.

“I’ll order a pizza right away. Hopefully this weather won’t slow them down. Have you ever eaten at Sal’s down the street?” Y/N questions.

“Tons,” Harry says. He leans against the threshold to the kitchen and watches as Y/N sets her purse on her small kitchen table and fishes through it for her cell phone. She’s got this crease between her brows as she can’t seem to find it, but it instantly goes away and is replaced with a smile as the iPhone is in her hands.

“Do you like anything on your pizza?” She asks, eyes on her phone screen and she brings up the menu. She typically just gets a cheese, sometimes spices it up with a vegetarian pizza cause she likes the green peppers and red onions.

“I’m actually a vegetarian,” Harry states. “Well, I eat fish on occasion so I guess I’m a pescetarian.”

“Oh cool,” Y/N says, looking up to see Harry’s watching her from the space between her kitchen and living room. The way he’s leaning against the small space of wall, arms crossed at his chest and head tilted to the side - he looks good. He’s dressed in a pair of beige trousers, straight and baggy as his last ones were too, and has a white tank top tucked into the waistband while he layered with a fun patterned button up shirt. She can’t quite make out what is printed on the shirt, but the little squares seem to each have a picture in them.

“Where did you get that shirt?” Y/N can’t stop herself from asking, the fashion lover in her wanting to know.

Harry glances down at the short sleeved shirt on his body, then shrugs, “I think I thrifted it back home in England a few years back,” he says.

“I like it,” she says, then brings up one shoulder in a shrug to make it seem more casual. It’s not weird to compliment your neighbours clothing, Y/N thinks as she glances back down at her phone. “I’m going to order a cheese and they have a great vegetarian pizza too that I like,” she tells Harry while punching in her order on her delivery app.

“Yeah, I’ve had it before, it’s pretty great,” Harry agrees. Y/N can’t help as her body reacts to how low and slow Harry’s voice is. How she gets small chills throughout her body, as if threatening to pebble goosebumps along her arms, and how her mind feels foggy almost as she listens to him speak. She rolls her lips into her mouth and stuffs her phone into the pocket of her fitted black pants. He could tell her the most pointless story and she would let him, just to hear his voice and that accent that went with it. Moving to her fridge, she finds the bottle of red she had opened last night. It’s such a normal thing for her to have a glass or two after work that she doesn’t even think of her guest. He might not even like wine.

“Do you drink?” Y/N asks, looking over her shoulder to see Harry still in the same spot but his hands now in the front pocket of his trousers.

“What are we drinking?” He asks with a smile.

Y/N smiles back, as she always does, and reaches for the wine she had her eye on. “I opened this bottle of wine last night, it’s red. Would you be interested in a glass?” She asks, holding the bottle up for Harry to see.

“I’d love a glass, thanks.”

“Perfect,” Y/N nods and sets the bottle down on the counter beside her fridge. “You can get comfortable on the couch, I’ll bring our drinks in a moment.”

“Sounds good,” Harry nods. With one final glance up her body as she reaches high in her cupboard for two wine glasses for them, he shakes his head and turns around. He has to stop checking her out, he has no idea if she’s into him or not. She’s simply being a nice neighbour, and here he was, fancying her so much he’s checking her out like some horny teenager.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, walking around the back of the couch to take a seat on the corner furthest from where the Christmas tree lit up Y/N’s living room. He really did like all of her joy that she’s put into decorating her home. There’s no doubting her love for the holiday, not a single space feels like it was forgotten as she must have spent all day setting it up. He especially liked the framed photo on the side table to his right, where there was also a rather plain lamp and a Santa spaced coaster too. Inside the frame was a small child who he knew immediately was Y/N. There was no mistaking that smile of hers even at such a young age. She’s sitting on a man’s lap, a man dressed as Santa, but it’s truly the most realistic mall Santa he’s even seen. Harry thinks back to his home in that moment, imagining the many photos of him and his older sister with many variations of mall Santas that must be littering his mum’s house by now. Truthfully, many of them didn’t leave the shelves during the year.

“Here you go,” Y/N says as she holds out a wine glass nearly half full of red wine to Harry. He takes it from her, his fingers brushing hers for a moment and sending those childish tingles through his body.

“Thanks,” he nods and brings the glass to his lips to have a taste. If he wouldn’t be so infatuated by Y/N, he would have told her that he typically didn’t drink red wine. He typically doesn’t drink at all, except for the occasional night out with his mates. But he saw that look on her face that said ‘I need a glass or two’ and he couldn’t say no, knowing it’d make her feel awkward and  end up not having a glass herself.

Y/N lets out a long sigh as she takes a seat on the other side of the couch, relaxing alongside Harry as if they aren’t complete strangers. He liked that she felt comfortable around him. She did in fact enter his apartment the other day in a bathrobe and use his shower after all. After she takes another long sip of wine, she sets it down on a matching Santa coaster that sits on the coffee table - Harry notices now that she had brought the bottle of wine with her too.

“Long day?” He questions. Y/N nods, tucking her legs under her as she gets comfortable on the couch beside him. She clears her throat softly before answering him.

“Uh, yeah, work’s just been a lot lately and I’m actually looking forward to some time off,” Y/N says, running a hand through her hair, and then leans her arm on the back of the couch. Harry watches her movements, bringing his glass of wine to his lips to have a small sip, which he notices she watches him do. He likes her eyes on his lips, he thinks before turning his body slightly and setting his wine on the side table. When he turns back and looks her way he notices the slightly tint of pink flushing over her cheeks. Harry fights the tug at his lips to smile at how she seemed to catch on that he caught her staring at his lips.

“That’s always the worst, feeling as if you’re counting down till the days off,” Harry exclaims.

“I typically don’t, to be honest. I love my job,” Y/N states. “It’s my career so I better,” she adds with a chuckle.

“So you’ve already found your career at such a young age then, that’s awesome. Have you always known you wanted to be involved in the fashion industry?” Harry asks, his eyebrows pulled together as he does find himself very curious of how she herself a career so young.

“First off, twenty four is really starting to not feel young anymore so let's not label me as a youngster or anything alright-“

“Um, twenty four is young but okay,” Harry cuts her off with a playful look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and chooses to ignore his teasing. He’s always hung out around people older than him and typically dated women older too. But Y/N doesn't seem young. From what he’s seen from her, she doesn’t fit the mold of any twenty four year olds he’s known before - most being rather rude and partying their youth away while it’s obvious that Y/N worked hard during those years. Y/N looks as though she's got the whole world figured out already, and he admires that a lot.

“And secondly, yeah, I guess I sort of did know, not at first, of course, but it was always an interest of mine,” Y/N states, bringing Harry back to their conversation.

“What did you want to be when you were a youngster then?” He questions, using her choice of words back at her which makes Y/N chuckle. She shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling for a moment as she falls back into memories of her childhood. She remembers being emotionally attached to a pair of plastic pink princess slippers and how she slept in her matching tiara for nearly a year before her mom put a stop to her fantasy.

“I wanted to be a princess-“

“Me too,” Harry says.

“Stop interrupting me,” Y/N laughs and reaches across the couch to smack his arm. Harry's head feels light, his cheeks hurt from grinning at Y/N so much. He hasn’t felt like this in quite a while. Being able to have a light conversion with a pretty girl. How she makes him smile and laugh so easily too, it’s a really nice feeling.  “But you’d make a much prettier princess for sure-“

“Not at all,'' Harry disagrees, managing to cut her off yet again. She glares at him but can’t help the smile that's still on her face.

“Anyways, I wanted to be a princess and then I wanted to be one of Santa’s elves-”

Harry chuckles, “of course,” he says as he’s not so surprised to hear her say so - seeing as it looked like Santa’s village inside her apartment.

Y/N chooses to ignore his short interruption this time and continues on. “But then as I got older and got ahold of the internet, I wanted to be a model cause I thought it was the most glamorous thing, but I wasn't as beautiful or skinny as Candice Swanepoel so that was out of the question-“

“This is the last time I'll interrupt you I promise,” Harry says, Y/N presses her lips tight together and gives Harry another look as if to say yeah right. “But I cannot let you sit here and say you aren't pretty or skinny enough to be a model, Y/N, because you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen and your weight is nothing to ever question,” Harry pauses as he looks down at the sofa between them, realizing that he had said all that out loud. He was slightly embarrassed as he’s not sure how she’d take her neighbour saying all that to her.

My heart needs to calm down like now, Y/N thinks as she wets her lips and fidgets with her own hands as she watches Harry. “Y/N, don’t ever think less of yourself,” he adds in a gentle voice that sends chills down her spine.

Y/N doesn't respond right away, because honestly she's speechless. No one has ever said something so kind and so genuine to her. Sure, she’s gotten compliments from people, but the way Harry immediately stopped her from talking poorly of herself had made her stomach stir and her heart race. They had only just met, only had a few interactions - they were all good, great even - but Harry wasn’t like most people she’s met before and she’s beginning to realize that. She looks up to see Harry's watching her, his green eyes staring back at hers. Something switches in the air between them as Harry feels like he should lean in. Should he lean in? Would she want that? Does she want him?

“Thanks,” she smiles, bringing Harry back to their conversation. She clears her throat and sits up straight again, flipping her hair over her shoulders and snuggling into the couch some more. “If I ever feel down about myself again, I’ll be sure to knock on your door and demand you shower me in compliments,” Y/N teases.

“I’d be honoured to,” Harry says. There's another beat of silence, but it's not quiet inside his head. All he’s thinking about is how he should've made a move. She felt it too, right? Harry stops himself before he can go too far inside his head again while thinking about Y/N. “I won’t cut in again. Continue from the dreams of being a model - which you’d be a great model, by the way, don't count that one out just yet.”

Y/N smiles again, not even sure if she’s stopped smiling honestly. “Right, well, modeling led me into the world of fashion. Not that I hadn't known about Vogue or any of the high fashion houses since I did grow up in New York; fashion week had always been a highlight for me. But I actually started to look into the other sides of it. Designing wasn't an option, I just didn't feel original enough. So I did some personal assistant stuff during my high school years at fashion week, working behind the scenes at shows.”

Y/N pauses to lean forward and grabs her glass of wine again, needing liquid to coax her throat before she continued. Harry noticed that she was talking so passionately, probably not even realizing how much she was using her hands while speaking or how her eyes lit up at the world she painted for him. “And then I got a scholarship into FIT, the Fashion Institute of Technology. I was lucky enough to get an internship at my current workplace but quickly got offered a position on my graduation day, and now I'm one of our senior associates.”

“And what does your job really entitled to exactly?”

“We do a lot of things, but we’re really a personal shopper and stylist company. Working with many of New York's elite, even some of the east coast’s elite really, as well as celebrities too, which is always fun to see the dress you styled at the Met Gala or the Grammys. I just do a lot of running around, it feels like,” Y/N explains, “like how I had to rush to the Gucci store on Fifth Ave in order to get some pieces for Mrs. Achibald for tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds like a real tough job,” Harry taunts. Y/N returns his smug look and narrows her eyes at him playfully.

“Right, well what do you do then? You always seem to be home, I’m starting to think you don’t even have a job. Maybe you’ve just got a sugar daddy, hmm?” Y/N jokes. Harry lets out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. Y/N laughs with him before taking a sip of her wine that she had almost forgotten about.

“Definitely not a sugar baby, although that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, totally,” Y/N nods in agreement. They both chuckle again. Harry reaches for his wine to take a sip before answering her question for real this time. Blame the wine, he thinks, for any longing looks or laughing too much at her jokes just blame the red wine in his glass.

“I’m actually in the music industry, kind of,” Harry states.

“How are you kind of in the music industry?” Y/N questions curiously, her brows pulled together as she takes another sip of wine.

“I am a studio rat, as people in the industry would call it,” Harry says, Y/N’s face scrunches up at his words utterly confused at the term. “I pretty much live in music studios most of the year. Most of my time is taken up by writing. So I guess I’m a songwriter, but I also make demos for my songs with a few people I’ve grown close with in my studio, so I end up doing some instruments for artists' studio versions of songs. I do a bit of producing too, but I mostly leave that to my buddy, Tom.”

“Wow, that sounds like a really cool job. And here I was jabbering on about my job when you’re a songwriter? That’s so cool,” Y/N repeats, another sip of wine going down her throat as she stares at Harry. His cheeks are starting to turn red, eyes avoiding hers as he fidgets with his rings. “Have you written any songs I’d know?” She asks, trying to get more information out of him.

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs.

“You’re not going to tell me?” Y/N asks, brows pulled together.

“Nope,” Harry shakes his head.

“Shouldn’t you be proud of your work?”

“Of course I am,” Harry says, bringing a crooked finger up to his nose before rubbing it twice. “I just know that my music might not be everyone's favourite.”

Since the beginning of his freelance songwriting career, Harry's always been nervous to show people what he’s poured his heart and soul into, especially to people he’s friends with, or people he likes. What if they hated it? He couldn’t bear listening to the fake “it's great” with an even faker smile. Although he knows people do like his songs, those people were mainly artists that bought his songs and their fans, of course, along with his fellow colleagues. He just doesn't want Y/N to hate his work.

“Well, I'm sure it's brilliant,” Y/N says. “And maybe one day you’ll show me.” She adds with a smile, not wanting to force the subject, over the rim of her wine glass before taking another sip and finishing off the red liquid in one small gulp. She frowns at the empty glass and sets it down on the Santa coaster on the coffee table. “Do you write all the time then?” Y/N asks, bringing her gaze back to Harry’s.

“Pretty much, although I’m in the studio less in December due to it being so close to the holidays. I’ve actually got my last session with my mates just in a few days.”

“Counting down the days till you have some time off?” She asks, referring to what he had said earlier to her.

“Not particularly,” Harry says.

Y/N is about to ask why, but then her phone bings from her pocket. It’s then that she realizes she hadn’t thought of looking at her phone once since sitting down with Harry. She had been so engrossed with their conversation, and feeling a light buzz that she managed to forget about the pizza she ordered. The notification on her screen read that her pizza had arrived at the building, and the delivery person would be here any second. Then her phone starts ringing.

“Hello,” Y/N answers the phone in a sweet voice. Harry has to stop himself from staring, instead finding himself grabbing the red wine that he wasn’t too fond of, and has a few sips as he listens to Y/N talk to, what he assumes, is the pizza delivery. She buzzes them up with one tap on her phone before the call ends. “Our dinner is finally here,” she tells Harry, even though he had gathered as much, but he still smiles in response. She stands from the couch and adjusts her pants by pulling them up slightly. They fit her so bloody well, Harry thinks. “And we are both nearly done with a glass of wine each before we’ve even eaten,” Y/N chuckles as she walks past Harry and to the kitchen to her purse.

While Y/N pays for their food, Harry takes it upon himself to top off her glass of wine. He was content with his last few sips between bites. Y/N sets the two pizza boxes on the coffee table before rushing into the kitchen to grab two plates and some napkins for them. They work together in a comfortable silence to get things set up; both boxes open and Y/N settles back onto the couch before they dig into the large New York slices.

Y/N brings a piece straight from the box to her mouth, once she bites into the greasy food she moans around her mouthful of cheesy pizza. Harry is just about to take his first bite as well but stops just short at the sounds that come from Y/N. He dares to glance her way, throat bobbing as he takes her in. Both eyes closed, her head hanging back and lips turned up into a smile as she chews her food. He watches her swallow, utterly mesmerized by her soft skin moving just slightly. Dear god, Styles, get it together, he thinks as he imagines her swallowing something else.

Y/N opens her eyes at the sound of Harry clearing his throat, turning her gaze to him and seeing him lift his piece of pizza to her in a ‘cheers’ manner. “Thanks again for the meal,” Harry says. There his voice does it again, sounding all low and throaty as it makes chills go down her spine.

“No problem,” Y/N nods. She tries to focus back on eating her food, willing the thoughts in her head to go away. But she can’t stop them from entering her dreams later that night after Harry and her had said their goodbye - Harry noticed her yawn a few times and began to clean up their plates and empty wine glasses while he continued to tell Y/N about his time in school before he was writing songs full time on his way to the kitchen. Y/N watched him from her spot on the couch, smiling at how he didn’t think twice on cleaning up after them. She was pretty sure that’s how her dream started too, but then it led to Harry’s voice whispering in her ear, asking if she’s been naughty or nice this year while they laid in bed. Y/N blames the large glass of wine. One hundred percent she blames the wine.

There wasn’t a more perfect day in the year, Y/N was sure of it, as she sat on a bench in Central Park. It was t-minus three weeks before Christmas Day and she had just gotten off work. The sun was slowly setting in the horizon as she stared at the sparkling snow that covered the ground and trees around her.

“Y/N?”

She turns her gaze away from the skating rink in the distance to see who had called out her name. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees Harry a few feet away. He’s dressed in a long dark coat that reaches to his knees, one which was exposed from a rip in his loose fitting jeans. With his outfit he wore a pair of chelsea boots upon his feet that trudged through the snow. Y/N noticed that he was bundled up with a grey scarf around his neck and a matching beanie upon his head too. She liked how his hair flipped up at the ends, sticking out of the beanie.

It has been almost a week since their pizza night together, and thankfully, those wine induced dreams had stopped after that one night, which to be fair were rather innocent compared to some other dreams she had thanks to too much tequila - regardless, it’s making it much less awkward to face him now.  

“Hey,” she greets him as she meets his eyes once more. Harry stops by the bench, motioning at the open space to her left.

“Mind if I sit with you?” He asks. Y/N shakes her head and moves to her right just a bit to make more room for him. “Was going for a stroll, thought I was imagining you sitting here by yourself to be honest.” Harry states.

“New York City can seem rather small some days,” Y/N says with a smile.

“Some days, yeah,” Harry nods. “What brings you out to this lonesome bench in Central Park?” Harry asks, looking out at the scenery before them.

“This,” Y/N answers with a hand out to the park.

“It's rather pretty.”

“Very, and calming. And after my day at the office today, I desperately needed to just sit here by myself and disconnect from the world for a moment.”

“Oh,'' Harry says, bringing Y/N’s gaze away from the couple holding hands across the pond and to him instead. “I'm- I'm sorry if I barged in. I just thought it’d be weird if I didn’t say hi.”

“Oh no, it’s totally okay,” Y/N assures him. “I’ve been out here for a good while now.” As if her body realizes at the same time, she shivers beside Harry.

“Did you want to head home?”

“Not particularly,” Y/N hums. Her eyes falling back to the sights before her. The sky is becoming a soft hue of pinks and oranges before their eyes. It warms her heart despite her entire body is cold.

“How about a cup of hot cocoa?” Harry suggests as he sees the cart serving hot drinks just to their right. An older couple and, what seems to be, their grandchildren are being served steaming cups and candy canes too. That seems like something Y/N would like, Harry thinks as he stands from the bench. He's about to offer his hand but thinks twice about it, sticking both his hands into his coat pockets before he can make a fool of himself. “My treat,” Harry adds with a smile.

“I would love that,” Y/N beams while standing from the bench and falling into step with him.

Harry orders for the two of them as they step up to the small cart. Y/N discreetly takes out her phone and opens her Instagram app, swiping to the right to open her camera before she’s bombarded with notifications. She holds down on her screen to begin filming her pointed Versace boots that she had been gifted from work this winter; they had become a staple as the weather grew colder and the snow kept coming down since they had the thickest heel of all the shoes in her closet. Holding the phone up, she catches half of Harry’s body as she films the hot chocolate cart. His back is to the camera, his large coat and beanie covering any angle she did get of him so she’s not afraid to post the story after adding a quick filter to it and typing ‘pro tip: always get a hot chocolate when you’re feeling chilly in central park’ tagging her location as well before hitting post to her story and feeding her nearly five hundred thousand followers with some content for the first time all day.

“Thank you,” Y/N says softly as Harry hands her a to-go cup without a lid since there’s an abundance of whipped cream on top. Her smile turns into a grin as he also reveals he bought her a candy cane. She gasps and is quick to unwrap it and stick it into her mouth.

“Woah, you’re like a toddler itching for a sugar rush, huh?” Harry teases as they begin walking along the path and away from the cart.

“Candy canes are my weakness,” Y/N states as she pushes it to the left side of her mouth in order to talk more clearly.

“Good to know,” Harry smiles over the rim of his cup before opening his mouth and licking off some of the whipped cream. Y/N has to look away as she’s brought back to her dream.

Shaking her head slightly, she brings her phone back up to her face and it unlocks for her. Since it’s still open on the Instagram camera, she holds out her heaping cup of whipped cream and attempts to take a picture as they walk. The first two turn out blurry, then she stops walking, in hopes it’ll turn out nice before Harry can notice she stopped. Only it doesn’t of course, so she ends up furrowing her brows and sucks harder on the candy cane in her mouth before trying three more times to take the perfect snap.

Suddenly, Harry’s hand is in her shot, a blur over her whipped cream. She gasps and looks up to see his forefinger in his mouth, obviously licking off the bit of whipped cream he managed to steal. She’s surprised he did it, and she can tell he is a bit too, but then she huffs out a short chuckle while her mouth is still agape, which makes Harry grin. He doesn’t think twice as he reaches out to swipes his finger over the sweet cream again.

“Stop stealing my whipped cream!” Y/N glares at Harry as he licks his finger clean once more.

“It’s gonna melt anyways, you're taking so bloody long to drink any of it.”

“I'm busy enjoying my candy cane, jeez,” Y/N rolls her eyes and takes the candy out of her mouth, having forgotten about the picture, her phone screen turns blank. Harry shrugs and reaches forward again to steal more. Y/N is faster this time, and moves her cup away from him while bringing her candy cane up and pointing towards him. “Do it again and I'll stab you,” She warns. Harry throws his free hand up in surrender, but both of his cheeks have those deep dimples showing. I’m beginning to really like those dimples, Y/N thinks.

“You get rather hostile over your holiday treats, hm?” Harry questions, raising a brow before slowly retreating his hand to hold his own hot chocolate with his other. He brings the cup to his mouth with both hands and takes a sip.

“Yes, in fact, I do,” Y/N mutters, looking down at her own cup and notices that the whipped cream is nearly gone now. Suppose Harry was right, she missed her chance to enjoy the extra sweetness.

She takes a few sips as they continue to walk together through Central Park. The sky is beautiful as the sunset is in its full glory with dreamy pinks and purples littering the skies. Y/N debates taking a photo but decides against it as she slips her phone into her pocket. Just as she’s about to return the candy cane back to her mouth, she glances over at Harry and notices just as he brings down his own hot chocolate from his mouth that he’s made a bit of a mess.

She chuckles before saying, “you’ve got a little,” Y/N points to her upper lip, “uh, a whipped cream moustache.” She giggles as Harry pokes the tip of his tongue out and swipes it over his top lip. Y/N chuckles some more and offers him her napkin.

“Thanks,” Harry says before wiping it across his mouth, looking back to her to ask, “did I get it all?”

Y/N finds herself staring at Harry for a few moments longer than it would take to give a simple answer if his face was clean or not. She’s never felt so comfortable around someone before, not even her childhood friends or Sammy honestly. There’s this ease around Harry the few times they’ve been around one another, and it makes her heart swell up in her chest. She rolls her lips into her mouth and inhales deeply through her nose, breaking her gaze away from his face and to the ground. In order to not seem weird or awkward, she looks back up and finds his eyes on her while she nods her head.

“Yeah, you’re good,” she tells him. They start their walk through Central Park once more, heading towards home at a slow pace. Y/N has her candy cane back in her mouth, alternating between it and her hot chocolate before it got too cold. She could live off them both one hundred percent; two of the best things ever invented.

“So, tell me about your day,” Harry says, bringing Y/N out of her own thoughts and meeting his gaze again.

“It was a pretty good day, I guess,” she sighs, “we just have a lot of clients that like to do last minute shopping during the holidays and have some pretty crazy demands, but we want to deliver for them so we bend over backwards to do so.”

“I’m sure that can cause you to be rather exhausted then, yeah?”

“Very,” Y/N nods, “but I’m sure your day was much more interesting than mine, so tell me what kind of songs you wrote today?” Y/N asks with a smile.

Harry chuckles and lets Y/N lead the way to their left on the path home, he wasn’t the most confident with getting around sometimes since he usually stuck to the few places in the city that he was familiar with. While he has learned that Y/N is a New York City Native, he trusts her way direction over his, that’s for sure. He thinks back on what he had done today, including a quick run on the treadmill in the gym in their building that ended sooner than he thought as he got a burst of lyrical inspiration out of nowhere.

“I was in my apartment for most of the morning and a bit of the afternoon, then got in a bit of a rut after writing a new song about love, of course. Then I decided I needed to get out of the house and hope for some inspiration from people watching, which I have done a lot since living here,” Harry explains. Y/N takes a big gulp of her nearly cold drink, leaning to her left to get to the garbage they are passing in order to throw out the empty cup. Harry takes the chance to throw his empty cup out too.

“Do you always write about love?” Y/N asks, not thinking twice if it may be a bit too personal of a question. Harry is taken back at first by how that’s all she got from what he had said, but he only clears his throat and shoves his hands into his pockets now that they are free.

“Mostly, yeah,” he nods, “most relatable thing in life, I suppose.”

“Sometimes, I guess it can be,” Y/N agrees and goes back to sucking on her candy cane. She wonders how many times he’s been in love? How many times has she really been in love? Y/N sighs internally and focuses on her steps, avoiding a puddle by having to step closer to Harry. She sniffles from the cold at the same time and is hit with Harry’s scent - lavender, as it always seems to be how he smells. She still thinks it’s lovely.

The two of them make more casual conversation on their fifteen minute walk home through the busy streets. Harry tells her about an elderly couple he had seen just before seeing her, maybe in their 80s, and looking more in love than he’s ever seen before. He wrote a few things about how they looked before going on his way. Y/N tells him about how her grandparents used to go on walks through the park when she was younger, which then brings them into the topic of grandparents in general. Harry tells her about how his grandpa refuses to retire and how his grandma ends up bugging his mom because of how lonely she is. Y/N is smiling the whole time, loving how he must feel comfortable around her too as he’s able to talk about his family like this. Y/N also yawns many times in their short walk. She’s tempted to invite Harry into her apartment for some wine and pizza again but decides against it and simply gives him a smile and soft goodbye at her door, deciding to get into her night routine earlier than normal due to how she can’t stop yawning.

After hanging up her coat, double checking her door was locked, and slipping out of her boots, Y/N pulled her phone out of her pocket to check out what text she missed while on her walk home. She liked how she wanted to feel so present around Harry, having no want to look at her phone but instead being more interested in his little stories about his grandparents. Her face ID unlocks as she looks at the screen. It’s still on the photo she last tried to take for her Instagram. Harry’s hand was a bit of a blur as he stole her whipped cream off the top of her hot chocolate. There was no way to not know it was Harry’s hand, though, his rings being so unique and noticeable in the photo as well - her favourite being his initials wrapped around his fingers in gold. Some would think it’s maybe a bit narcissistic, but Y/N thought it looked good and really there’s no harm in being a narcissist sometimes right?

Y/N saves the photo but doesn’t post it, deciding to simply keep it for herself instead of letting her many followers see into a small yet sweet moment between her and her newest friend. She could call him that right? They were friends? Y/N did hope that Harry thought of her as a new friend too because she was enjoying this time with him a lot, maybe even a little too much.

It had been another day spent at the cafe down the street for Harry. Marking only one last day off till his final studio time this year, he was itching to get to work in a couple days and see his mates too. Over the almost two weeks, he’s written more than he had expected himself to and he knew he could thank a certain new neighbour, or I guess, a new friend, Harry thinks to himself as he turns towards his apartment building. There was no denying the feeling he got around Y/N. He wanted to become more than friends, eventually, no rush of course - but he couldn’t ignore the feeling he got around her; the butterflies and heart racing nearly every moment together. And he couldn’t forget the constant smiling, which he was doing right now just thinking about her.

Harry walks up to the main doors of his apartment building and notices a man beside the main doors. Harry furrows his brows at him. He didn’t look like some strange man trying to find warmth during the beginning of the evening here in the city that had fallen to freezing temperatures as the first week of December came to an end. In fact, he had a brand new iPhone in his hand and rather expensive looking clothes keeping him warm.

“Hey, did you need inside?” Harry asks the man standing by the intercom system. The man looks up at Harry, eyes narrowing at him. He seems Harry’s age, maybe even a few years older judging by the lines around his eyes. He’s got dark eyebrows which makes Harry think he must have dark hair under the beanie he wore under the hood of his thick winter coat. Harry waits for an answer, staring back into the stranger’s brown eyes.

“Yeah, girlfriends not answering and I know she’s inside,” his voice is low and gruff, he then lifts a Starbucks hot cup up - Harry recognizes the holiday pattern anywhere now since Y/N seems to always have one on her even in quick passing in or out of the building. “Even got me to pick her up this stupid drink on my way too, her fault if it’s cold now I guess.”

“Guess so,” Harry mumbles, kind of put off by the man’s attitude. He decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and holds the door open for it. The man walks in without so much of a thank you. You’re welcome, Harry sarcastically thinks to himself.

They walk together to the elevator in an awkward silence. Once the doors open Harry steps up to the buttons and hits the sixth one, not bothering to ask the man what floor he needs as he steps away. The stranger gives the lit up button a brief look before he’s staring down at his phone. As the elevator moves Harry’s mind wanders off to how he’d assert himself into Y/N’s evening today. Maybe he could make her dinner, then ask if she’d like to walk over to Central Park after because he knows how much she enjoys it there, and when they decide to take a break from walking and find a bench he’d finally get the nerve to make a move - maybe reach for her hand during the walk even. One thing was for sure, he liked Y/N and he needed to buck up and do something about it.

He’s still deep in thought about Y/N when the elevator doors open. The man he let into the building steps out first without even glance at Harry. Typical New Yorker, he thinks. Harry finds himself looking at where Y/N’s apartment door is over the man's shoulder as they walk down the hall, he’s debating just walking right up and asking her to hang out right away. But then the man stops in front of the door that reads 602 - Y/N’s door.

Y/N hears the knock on her front door and blinks rapidly at her laptop screen, unfocusing from her long email that she was to send to her boss, Amanda, within the hour with an update on how the first week of December had gone. She glances at the time and sees it’s nearly four in the afternoon. Took him long enough, she thinks while rolling her eyes and standing from the couch. Just as she’s a few steps away there’s another knock on the door. She sighs and unlocks it, quickly throwing the door open to reveal Mark standing on the other side.

“You are home,” he says, that attitude she knows so well is thick in his voice already. Y/N opens her mouth, about to sass him back, but then she notices a certain tall figure with a mess of brown hair walking behind Mark.

“Harry,” Y/N breathes out, hoping he didn’t even hear it honestly. But he slows his steps and gives her a tight lipped smile once facing her. It’s one she was not familiar with and makes her stomach feel as though it was full of rocks.

“Hey,” he says with a small three finger wave.

“You know this guy?” Mark, her boyfriend, questions. Bringing her eyes from Harry’s green ones and to his brown ones instead. “He was nice enough to let me into this place since you were too busy,” he states.

Y/N tucks her lips into her mouth and looks away from Mark and back to Harry. She knows he’s questioning everything by the look in his eyes. She tried. Well, maybe not hard enough, but she wanted to tell him about Mark, even just casually and quickly. Y/N didn’t intend to give Harry any sort of mixed signals during their times together, she really was just being polite and ended up enjoying being around him so much that she thought there was no harm in making a new friend. But she’d be an idiot to try and deny she felt something more than friendship with Harry.

“Yeah, uh,” she clears her throat and waves a hand between the two young men, “Mark, this is Harry my uh, my neighbour. Harry this is Mark, my boyfriend.”

Well shit, that’s not ideal, Harry thinks as he looks into Y/N’s eyes and prays he heard her wrong. But he knows he didn’t. So, he just takes a deep breath and forces a smile to stay on his face while holding a hand out to Mark, even though it hurt him to be polite to the guy that was dating the girl he’s been crushing on for nearly two weeks now.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry says as Mark grasps his hand and shakes it lazily. Shit handshake, he thinks. “I would love to stay and chat but I’ve got some work to get to,” he says quickly after taking his hand out of Mark’s and backing away from the situation towards his own apartment.

Y/N opens her mouth, but the words don’t come out. She just watches as Harry turns on his heels and his posture hunches as he gets to his door and tries to unlock it quickly. Mark is suddenly pushing past Y/N, saying something but she’s too focused remembering the look on Harry’s face just moments ago. She steps back into her apartment and doesn’t look over to where Harry is shutting his own door before closing her own gently.

Really fucked this up didn’t you, Y/N? She thinks as she turns the lock on her door and listens to Mark complain about his day while flinging his belongings around her living room. What is she going to do? What is she going to say? If Harry ever talks to her again, that is. She sighs and closes her eyes before making her way towards where her boyfriend was lounging on her couch, giving him a small smile as he opened his arms for her to sit with him.

“I did miss you these past few weeks while I was away,” Mark says, planting a quick kiss to her hair as she leans into his body - praying he doesn’t question why her heart is beating so fast. She’s sure he wouldn’t enjoy knowing it’s because of her growing feelings for her new neighbour, and seeing the realization in Harry’s face at the fact she wasn’t single kind of hurt to see.

“Missed you too,” she mumbles, lying. Y/N hadn’t thought about her boyfriend all that much these past, almost, three weeks that he was away for a business trip.

“Do much without me?” Mark asks.

Y/N shakes her head, “no, not much at all,” her soft voice replies while she begins to zone out on the wall that was between her and Harry’s apartments, noticing how it made her feel more separated from him now more than ever. 

>> part two <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

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[sankyeom]

picture perfect | k.m

pairings: kevin moon x reader genre: art student au, strangers to lovers, art!student kevin, actor!reader, another secret admirer situation (yes i know we already did that in my sangyeon fit but it’s cute so idc) summary: in which you find a sketchbook filled with drawings of you, and go on a mission to find the owner word count: 8.5k (these just get longer and longer wow) series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

Your psychology professor always spoke a mile a minute, and it made taking notes unnecessarily difficult. Usually when she lectured, your wrist cramped from writing so fast, and your classmates couldn’t wait to get out of the room. On one particular autumn afternoon, you stared into nothingness as your professor gave a lecture on Milgram’s experiments, running lines in your head instead of taking notes like you usually did.

When you were cast as one of the lead roles (who didn’t even have that many lines to begin with) in your University’s winter play of An Ideal Husband, you were ecstatic to be given a new challenge. You had never been involved in acting or theatre before University, and you always felt like you were behind your peers. Your excitement soon morphed into something less productive: fear.

You were so afraid to mess up and disappoint your peers that you frequently did poorly in rehearsals and were the source of your cast’s frustrations. Perhaps it was your lack of experience, or perhaps it was because you didn’t really have any faith in yourself. Either way, it was all you could think about.

As your classmates started packing up to leave, you realised that the lecture was over and that you had just been in your own head for over an hour without learning anything from your class. Scrambling to pack up, you put away your notebooks and pencils as your phone chimed. Checking the text, you saw a message from your friend Sunwoo asking if you wanted to get lunch with him.

Getting to your feet, you texted Sunwoo that you were down for lunch as you exited the now empty lecture hall. As you left, you felt your shoe come in contact with a solid object in the doorway; a notebook that somebody must have dropped on the way out. Knowing that you would want your notes back if someone found them – especially in this class, where your professor spoke way too fast – you opened the notebook to see who it belonged to.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It wasn’t a notebook, it was a sketchbook. With a drawing of you on the first page.

At first, you scolded yourself for assuming that the person in the drawing was you. It was presumptuous of you, wasn’t it? But the texture, colour, and length of the person’s hair perfectly matched yours. The person in the picture had your eyes, skin, clothes, and smile.

Perhaps it wasn’t so arrogant of you to presume that you were being depicted in the drawing.

“That’s a lovely drawing,” Professor Shin, who was on her way out, complimented. “You’re an excellent artist.”

You glanced up from the page, feeling a little dizzy. “It’s not mine,” you admitted, head spinning at the idea of somebody drawing you. Plain, simple, me? You couldn’t believe it. “I just found it here on the floor.”

“Looks like somebody admires you,” your Professor mused, smiling before bidding you farewell, leaving you standing in an empty lecture hall, clutching the sketchbook in your hands.

You tried to find a name on the other side of the cover, but there was no number or form of identification anywhere. The only thing that alluded to an identity was the small signature at the bottom right corner of the drawing.

Moon scribbles.

The first time Kevin saw you, he was seated three rows behind you in one of his Cultural Anthropology classes last semester. You were jotting notes as quickly as possible, brows furrowed together in concentration as you gripped your pen hard enough for your knuckles to turn white.

Kevin didn’t take any notes that day.

All the could do was watch you, appreciating the way your expressions changed as you understood the content, and the hesitance on your face when you volunteered an answer during class.

He didn’t mean to start drawing you. You had simply inspired him to pick up his pencil and start sketching, the soft strokes of the lead slowly but surely forming shapes that resembled your eyes, nose, lips…  

Kevin didn’t think that you’d be all he could draw from that moment onwards. Even during his art classes; if the assignment was to study the scenery surrounding the University and draw a landscape, Kevin couldn’t get the image out of your face out of his head. Whether he used paint, charcoal, ink, or lead, it was your profile that emerged from his efforts.

Today was no different; Kevin was supposed to be studying the Psychology slides from class that day – which he hadn’t taken notes on because he was too busy sketching you – and yet he only had the urge to add the finishing touches to his drawing instead of facilitating his studying. Dragging his messenger bag over to his desk, Kevin rifled through it in search of his sketchbook. He had filled many, many pages with your face at that point, and it had become a habit for him to bring it everywhere with him in case he had the urge to draw.

Kevin furrowed his brows when he couldn’t find it. His heart pounded suddenly, the idea of him having lost his sketchbook in a place you might find it seeming terrifying and disastrous. After a final sweep of his bag – which included emptying it inside-out to make sure he didn’t miss anything – Kevin could only hope and pray that he’d find it before you did.

“You found what?” Sunwoo asked through a mouthful of noodles, his eyes comically large and rounded in surprise.

“A sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you replied in a monotone voice, knowing fully well that Sunwoo had heard and understood you the first time. This was the fourth time you had explained the situation, and it was starting to get a little old.

Eric narrowed his eyes, judging Sunwoo’s eating habits, before turning to face you. “Are the drawings cute?” he wondered.

“I wouldn’t say they’re cute,” you said absentmindedly, thinking back to the drawings you saw. After succumbing to your own curiosity, you had looked through the notebook to see what other drawings there were. You knew this was an invasion of privacy but you couldn’t help yourself. Surely enough, they were all of you.

“They were beautiful. Drawn in such detail that I couldn’t even believe it when I first saw them… And I look genuinely gorgeous in them,” you paused when Sunwoo scoffed at your words. “I’m not saying that to be vain,” you defended. “Trust me, I look much better in the sketches than in real life. Whoever drew them just… sees me differently than I see myself. I look beautiful in the pictures.”

“Your Professor’s right, it does sound like you’ve got yourself an admirer,” Eric teased you, pleased that somebody other than your close friends was starting to see how great you were. He wasn’t your best friend like Juyeon or Sunwoo, but he knew you well enough. “Did you get a name or anything?” he asked excitedly.

“Nothing,” you sulked. “I can take an educated guess that this person is probably in my Psych class since it’s the only class I have in that room, but who knows? It could be anyone that’s seen me before.”

“Maybe it’s one of your fans from the drama department,” Sunwoo poked fun at your cast members, not liking how they were treating you in rehearsals.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes, finally picking at your rice and starting to eat. “I just want to know who’s drawing me in such an amazing way. It’s so detailed that I assume it might be someone will a lot of skill, maybe an art major? But a lot of people draw as a hobby who aren’t art majors as well. Maybe-”

Eric interrupted you. “You’re thinking too much,” he said, trying to clam you down. “Just… slow down a little. Maybe they’ll come looking for it next time you have Psych? There’s no name or information so you can’t do anything to find them, anyways,” he rationalised, something that was usually your role in your friendships.

Your eyes lit up. “Moon scribbles,” you exclaimed.

Sunwoo gave you an unimpressed look. “Bless you.”

You ignored his cheek, taking out your phone and going onto Instagram. “The artist signed all of their drawings with a signature that says Moon scribbles,” you explained.

“You know it’s rude to go onto your phone during mealtimes,” Sunwoo replied.

You laughed. “I’ll be sure to remember that for the next time you do the same, Kim Sunwoo.”

After typing moonscribbles into the search bar, you saw an art page by the same name pop up. You couldn’t tell who it belonged to, as the bio vaguely gave information about the artist going to your University, studying art and being a pisces. Since the account was private, you decided to risk it and request to follow them, no matter how strange that might be if they weren’t the person you were looking for.

“I should have invited Juyeon out for lunch instead,” Sunwoo decided, picking at your rice dish in between bites of his noodles.

“Juyeon would rather hang out with Eric than you anyway,” you teased your friend back, knowing that Juyeon and Eric had a deeper friendship despite Sunwoo and Eric being the same age. Eric grinned, amused that the was the topic of discussion and not chiming in to deny anything. “And excuse me, I paid for lunch, you rascal! Now stop complaining, I’m done anyway.”

“Alright, fine. Did anything come up?” Sunwoo wondered, slapping your wrist when you tried to take some of his noodles. You rolled your eyes. Typical Sunwoo: always taking your food but never willing to share his with you.

“I don’t know yet,” you admitted. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

A few days passed without any response from moonscribbles on Instagram. You checked a few times a day to see if they ever accepted your request to follow them, but nothing ever came back. They didn’t deny your request, nor did they let you follow them either. It was frustrating, but it fell to the back of your mind after a week due to your schedule.

You had started doing full rehearsals with your cast members on stage for the play. At first, you thought that the setting might help you remember your lines and act without feeling awkward, but you were wrong. Most of your cast mates thought you got one of the lead roles for an alternate reason; perhaps you were related to someone on the University’s board and the director put you in because they wanted to keep their job. None of that was true, of course, but it didn’t help you make any friends.

The only friend you made was Younghoon, who played the lead opposite you, and with whom you frequently got together to go over lines and practice. He was one of those actors who was a completely different person from his role; he could keep be totally in character while doing his lines and the second the scene was over, he was back to his smiley self.

It didn’t help your confidence that he was an absolute pro. It only made you seem less competent in comparison, and you scolded yourself for even thinking that. Of course you knew it wasn’t Younghoon’s fault that he was simply much better at acting than you, but it definitely hurt your pride even more.

After another disastrous rehearsal, your cast mates had left to go backstage so you could have a word with the director. Younghoon sent you an encouraging smile and a pat on the shoulder before he followed your cast mates backstage, going over his lines in a faint whisper.

“Y/n,” your director began gently. “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but what’s up with you?” You said nothing, prompting her to keep talking. “Your audition was really great. I knew I wanted you to play a lead role the second you were done auditioning. But you’ve been doing pretty poorly in rehearsals.”

“I know,” you admitted. “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Your director sighed. “Look Y/n, I still want you to play your role. I like your chemistry with Younghoon and I think you guys could be really great leads. But if things don’t improve, I’m going to have to replace you with your understudy for the sake of this production.”

Even though you knew it was the obvious thing to do, it still hurt to hear. “I understand,” you whispered, nodding as you glanced at the floor.

“I really hope you can figure this out,” your director said, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Let me know if I can help in any way, okay?” You nodded, and your director excused herself, leaving you standing at the edge of the stage by yourself.

You groaned once you were alone, taking a seat at the edge of the stage and letting your legs dangle over the edge. Welcoming the silence in the theatre as most of the cast had left for the day, you allowed yourself to lay back and close your eyes.

Why couldn’t you get this right?

Maybe I should just quit the play, you thought to yourself. It’s probably for the best.

When you heard the gentle patter of footsteps leading onto the stage, you spoke without opening your eyes. “Let me guess, you came to tell me how terrible I am too?” you uttered, not even caring who it was anymore.

The footsteps paused. “Um, actually, I’m just here to paint the sets…” a soft male voice spoke, causing you to open your eyes and sit up.

A familiar face stood a few metres away from you, paintbrushes and paints in hand. He had black hair that slightly covered his eyes, cat-like eyes and small lips that were pursed at the awkward interaction the two of you had just had.

“Sorry,” you apologised, getting to your feet. “It’s been a rough day,” you paused. “You’re Kevin, right?”

He looked surprised that you knew who he was. “Oh. Yes, actually.”

“I’m close with Juyeon,” you explained, realising how strange it might seem that you knew his name and recognised him. “I suppose I should probably have led with that.”

Kevin smiled. “No worries. I know you as well, you’re Y/n. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” you replied, bending down to collect your script and other belongings, pushing them into your tote bag as quickly as possible. “I’ll get out of your hair, then,” you smiled at him, implying it as your farewell.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re terrible,” Kevin confessed, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and starting to mix paints. You glanced at him. “Are you in your head a little? Maybe. But you’re far from terrible,” he assured you, his brown eyes brimming with kindness.

“That’s very nice of you to say,” you replied. “Thanks. Although, you seem more like an artist than an actor,” you added, teasing him just a little. You couldn’t help yourself, he was pretty cute.

Kevin laughed. “Fair enough,” he allowed. “If you want me to brag about being the lead in Aladdin in middle school, then I will.”

You placed your tote bag on your shoulder, holding your hands up in surrender. “I take it back,” you said immediately. “You have more experience than I do on stage.” The two of you shared grins.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Kevin assured you. “If I can do it then you certainly can.”

He seemed really sincere, and you appreciated it. “Thanks, Kevin,” you said, feeling much lighter and in a far better mood than before Kevin had come on stage. “I’ll see you around,” you bid your farewells before exiting the stage.

You’d have to ask Juyeon more about his friend Kevin.

The next time you and Kevin bumped into each other was after one of your rehearsals a few weeks later.

You had improved in your rehearsal times, with a lot of help from Younghoon – who practiced with you in between classes – and Sunwoo – who you ran lines with anytime the two of you were together. When you were done rehearsing, your director had expressed how happy she was that you were starting to warm up to the stage and really get into the character the way she was hoping you would. Younghoon earned himself two week’s worth of free coffee from you, and your cast finally stopped glaring at you whenever you came to rehearsals.

“Oh, hey,” you greeted Kevin, who started coming onstage to work on the sets with other people who were involved in the production process. “Good to see you again,” you told him.

“You too,” Kevin beamed, his hair falling over his eyes just slightly. You had the urge to brush it out of the way so you could see him better, but you resisted the urge and scolded yourself for being so forward. “You guys are looking pretty good out there,” he complimented, waving at Younghoon as he left the theatre. His older friend gave him a knowing look, making big eyes at him and puckering his lips to tease Kevin about his crush on you.

“Thank you,” you smiled back at him, entirely clueless to Kevin cursing Younghoon with his eyes right in front of you. “The sets are really coming along too,” you commend him, gesturing around you. “It’s certainly adding some more colour to our rehearsals.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kevin replied. “Set painting isn’t exactly my vocation or anything, but it’s a fun way to help out with my skillset.”

“Skillset?” you echoed, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Ah,” Kevin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um, I’m a fine arts major. So set painting is a little less refined than what I usually do. Not that I’m bragging,” he added quickly.

“Not at all,” you agreed, your eyes widening in realisation. “Fine arts, that’s a really cool major. You must be pretty talented to get into fine arts here, it’s such a competitive major,” your eyes widened in sudden realisation. “I’d love to see something of yours that doesn’t involve painting sets,” you motioned to the stage around you.

Kevin almost blushed. “Really?” he asked, his heart beat hammering in his chest at the idea of you seeing his art.

“Yeah,” you nodded your head eagerly. Partly because you were really curious about his art, but mostly because Kevin was pretty damn cute. “For sure! I mean, if you come to opening night of the play, I’d love to go see your art some time.”

“How’s this Saturday?” Kevin asked, his words almost slurring together at the speed he was talking. “The art department’s putting on an exhibition and a few of my drawings are going to be in it.”

“That sounds great,” you agreed. “Do you think I could bring some friends?”

Kevin nodded, his deep brown eyes brightening at the idea. “For sure! I already invited Juyeon but you can bring Sunwoo along as well.”

“Then I’ll be there,” you promised.

“Oh my god, are you touching the art?” you heard Kevin exclaim semi-loudly. You froze from your place, pointing at the water fountain from which you were filling up a cup of water to drink.

“What?” you asked dumbly, your eyes widening as Kevin smirked, hiding his laughter.

It was the Saturday of Kevin’s exhibition and you were doing your best to blend in with all the artistically-minded people in the room; admiring the paintings, motioning at the sculptures and pondering over the meanings behind the light exhibitions.

“I thought this was just a regular water fountain,” you tried to defend yourself.

“It is, I’m just messing with you,” Kevin shrugged, causing you to exhale in relief and slap Kevin’s arm.

“That was awful of you,” you scolded, unable to hide the large grin making its way onto your face. “You suck.”

“So I’ve heard,” Kevin retorted easily. “Hi. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” you replied. “So, when am I going to see your pieces?” you asked, motioning around the room. It was filled to the brim and people were bustling around the room to get a good look at every piece.

“Right now if you’re up for it,” Kevin suggested, waving as Juyeon and Sunwoo made their way over to the pair of you. You had excused yourself to get some water when Kevin spotted you and came over. “Hey guys. Sunwoo, good to see you again.”

“You too,” Sunwoo replied courteously, which was unlike him. Sunwoo knew Kevin vaguely through Juyeon, who was the same age as Kevin and had a lot of classes with him, and Eric, who Kevin often hung out with because they both spoke English. “Any of these yours?”

“A few,” Kevin said modestly.

Sunwoo nodded, looking around. “Are they good or are they more… conceptual?” he asked, his own way of asking whether or not Kevin’s art was a piece of crap or not.

You rolled your eyes. “Your eloquence astounds me, Sunwoo,” you said sarcastically.

“Well I might as well get to the point,” Sunwoo chided, glancing back at Kevin. “So?”

Kevin, who was observing you and Sunwoo with the same amused smile that Juyeon was, motioned the three of you over as he led you in the direction of his drawings. “I’m not so sure if they’re good, or conceptual, but I suppose you could judge that for yourself,” he told Sunwoo, coming to a halt in front of a display of drawings.

The drawings were lively and bright; colours in the form of pastels and charcoal bringing richness and warmth to the image. Most of his drawings depicted a faceless person. There were multiple drawings where the person was being portrayed from the back, and ones that were head-on didn’t have any facial features.

“These are amazing,” you breathed out, enchanted by the creativity of the drawings, as well as the immense detail that went into them.

“I like them,” Sunwoo decided, causing Juyeon to nod in agreement.

“They’re really good,” Juyeon complimented his friend, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m really glad you decided to put something on display this year.” Juyeon knew all about the artistic slump Kevin was in last year, so he didn’t have any art on display.

Kevin thanked Juyeon quietly, still studying your expression. “Can I ask why they’re faceless?” you asked, tilting your head as you studied the drawings further.

“Ah, that,” Kevin began, an uncharacteristic shyness appearing in his tone. “Well, I’ve been inspired by somebody for a few months now,” he explained. “I suppose I made my drawings faceless because I don’t want people to know who my muse is. I’m not ready to face how I feel when I draw them yet, and I think it’s too personal to put in an exhibition.”

You nodded your head, understanding where he was coming from. “That’s really great. I hope that one day I’ll get to see their face,” you said kindly, genuinely enjoying his art. Your eyes widened as you realised something. “Hey, do you know the other students in your major well?” you asked him.

Kevin raised an eyebrow at your sudden change of topic. “Yeah, I think so. We’re a small major and I have all of my 300-level classes with all the same people. Why do you ask?”

“Would you be able to recognise one of your peer’s work?” you inquired, the sketchbook in your dorm room burning a hole in your mind. He might be able to solve my curiosity.

“Maybe,” Kevin drawled slowly. “Why?” he found your sudden change of pace surprising. “What’s up?”

“Well, I found someone’s sketchbook in one of my classes and I was wondering who it belonged to,” you began, hesitating before bringing up the sketchbook you found in your Psychology class. “But they didn’t put their name on it so I can’t return it to the owner. It was really detailed and skilled work, so I thought they might be a fine arts major.”

Kevin’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

His worst nightmare had come true: you had found his sketchbook. His sketchbook that was filled with his heart-felt drawings of you. And here you were, asking him if he knew who it belonged to. Somehow, it was equal parts thrilling and mortifying.

Sunwoo, having heard about your secret admirer decided to check out a different part of the exhibition, but Juyeon – who was hearing this for the first time – stayed out of curiosity. “You found someone’s sketchbook?�� he repeated. “What was in it?”

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh. Well, here’s the thing… There’s some drawings of me in it,” you admitted, feeling shy about divulging everything about the sketchbook to Kevin. “I just… I guess I want to meet the person that made me feel so vibrant and beautiful when looking at the drawings.”

“You have an admirer,” Juyeon realised, beaming at you; eyes squinting into little crescents. “That’s adorable. Does it say anything inside?”

“Yeah it does, actually,” you told him, giving him a smile before meeting Kevin’s eyes again. “All of the drawings are signed with the handle Moon scribbles,” you recalled. “No name or phone number, though.”

Juyeon’s brows furrowed together. “Kev, isn’t Moon scribbles-“

“A really interesting name?” Kevin cut Juyeon off, sending him the clear message that he wasn’t ready to tell you about the fact that you were his muse and he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

Getting the message, Juyeon eagerly agreed, thanking Kevin for finishing his train of thought. “Um, I don’t think I’ve heard of it before. But if you show me the drawings, maybe I could recognise the style?” Kevin suggested, coming up with a solution for you to find the owner of the sketchbook.

“That would be really great, actually,” you acknowledged. “I could bring it by the next time we hang out,” you suggested, excited to figure out who you should thank for their hard work.

“Next time?” Kevin echoed, excitement filling his stomach. “Are you really so eager to solve your mystery?” he teased you.

“Well, you’re not such a bad addition,” you added with a wink.

Kevin’s heart soared.

You met up with Kevin in the library a few days later to show him your sketchbook. It was good timing because you definitely needed to study for your Psychology class after zoning out in your last few lectures, so the library was the perfect setting to meet.

“Hey,” you greeted Kevin, taking the seat next to him on one of the sofas in the more secluded area of the library.

“Hi,” Kevin mumbled in return, his voice sounding quieter and more hoarse than usual. At first, you thought it might be the fact that he had to whisper that made him sound more quiet. Then, you spotted the dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he was wearing glasses, which he didn’t normally do.

“You okay?” you asked him, seeing him stretch out and yawn in his seat.

“Me?” Kevin murmured, meeting your gaze with tired, glazed-over eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Not to sound like an asshole who’s telling you that you look terrible, which I’m not, but you look really tired,” you had to tell Kevin. “Are you sure you’re up for this? You look like you could use some sleep.”

“Sleep,” Kevin said the word like it’s funny. “Sleep and I… we aren’t friends.”

You smiled sympathetically at your new friend. “Up all night studying?” you wondered.

“Insomnia,” Kevin corrected you.

“Ah,” you nodded in understanding. “So sleep is… a distant acquaintance?” you played off his previous joke.

“Something like that,” he allowed, moving his glasses up onto his forehead to rub his eyes. “I’m good, though. I look like this most days, don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so,” you trail off, your concern still not being calmed by Kevin’s explanation. “We can do this anther time if it helps, though. I wouldn’t want you to be unwell because of me.”

Kevin grinned, adjusting the beanie on his head. “But I couldn’t possibly be unwell if I’m around you,” he said, pointing his finger in the air as if he had made an excellent realisation. “Now, show me the sketchbook.”

You pulled the sketchbook out of your tote bag and handed it over to him.

Seeing it right in front of him, Kevin could confirm that it was definitely his sketch book that you had found. Although the chances of another person on campus being entirely smitten by you to the point where you became their artistic muse was slim, it wasn’t zero.

“Can I,” he motioned to the sketchbook, asking for permission to open it. It was incredibly ironic, but Kevin was too embarrassed to come clean about the sketchbook being his.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, telling him to flip through the pages.

Kevin did so, pretending he was seeing all the drawings for the first time. He paused on every page, looking over the details in the sketches and the way they realistically depicted your features. Even though he was the one who drew them, Kevin could admit that the drawings were really great. They were great because he appreciated the subject and was inspired by you. That much was clear to anybody.

“Wow,” Kevin said when he was done looking at all the drawings, holding the sketchbook on his lap. “That’s… you,” he observed, as if he didn’t already know.

“So I’m not crazy?” you asked immediately, biting your lip. “That’s me?” you glanced down at the open page in front of Kevin, seeing the resemblance between you and the person in the drawing.

“Oh it’s definitely you,” Kevin confirmed. “Unless you have an identical twin somewhere out there, there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s you.”

You let out a relieved sigh, leaning back onto the sofa. “Okay, good. I thought I was being really shallow and presumptuous at first but it’s good that you agree,” you told him, feeling a weight being lifted off your chest. “So, does it look familiar?”

“I’m not sure,” Kevin replied vaguely, wondering how he was going to get himself out of this one. “Do you think I could keep this? Maybe look over it a few more times when I’m not about to pass out,” he added.

“Sure,” you allowed. You trusted Kevin enough that he wouldn’t lose the sketchbook, since all of your mutual friends spoke very highly of him. Besides, you were becoming more impressed by him every time the two of you met. “I hope something comes up. I looked moonscribbles up on Instagram but their account is private and they haven’t responded to my follow request yet.”

Kevin had completely forgotten about his private art Instagram account. Before he was inspired by you to draw, he was in a serious slump and had been spiralling downwards. In this time, he made his Instagram account private in an effort to not think about it too much. Kevin scolded himself for not realising that you would look him up on social media to find him.

“That’s too bad,” he said sympathetically. “Maybe they’ll respond soon?”

“I hope so,” you mumbled, sighing. “I just… I want to meet them.”

“Just out of curiosity, why do you want to meet them so badly?” Kevin wondered. “Because they drew pretty pictures of you?”

“Kind of?” you replied unsurely. “That’s definitely part of it. I guess I wanted to meet somebody who thought I was vibrant and colourful and beautiful,” you shrugged, glancing down at your lap. “Because I don’t think that about myself at all. It’s why I suck at acting, and it’s why my cast mates hate me. I just thought that if somebody out there really thought I was special, maybe I would have a reason to believe it, too.”

Kevin felt butterflies rising in his stomach again, but not in a fluttery, nervous way. He was anxious about what was going to happen. “I’ll do my best to help out,” he said gently. “And Y/n?” you looked back up at Kevin. “I think you’re special,” he admitted. “A lot of people do. Juyeon, Sunwoo, Eric, Younghoon… You don’t need Moon scribbles to be special, you’re already special to us.”

A grateful, shy smile spread across your lips at his words. “Thanks, Kev. For your help, and for saying that. I really appreciate it,” you acknowledged afterwards, realising that Kevin was going out of his way to figure out your mystery while he was dead tired.

Noticing the shift in atmosphere, you cleared your throat and changed the subject, heart hammering. “I’m going to stay here and study for my Psychology class, so you don’t have to stay if you’d rather get some sleep.”

“Psychology?” Kevin echoed. “Are you taking it with Professor Shin?”

“Yes,” you groaned. “She talks so fast that my hand feels like it’s going to fall off after her lectures,” you complained.

Kevin laughed. “I can relate,” he commented. “I didn’t think you were in my class. I’m in section fifteen, what about you?”

“Section twenty-two,” you said, shrugging. “Although I’m glad to hear that it’s not just my class that she’s driving crazy.”

“Ditto,” Kevin agreed. “I actually have to get some studying done for that class too. You mind if I stay?”

“Not at all,” you promised. “It always helps to study with a friend,” you added, pulling out your notes and laptop from your tote bag.

After setting up all of your work, you quickly got to studying, cross-referencing terms from your notes to the textbook to make sure you didn’t write down anything wrong in your hurry. Kevin was silent and still beside you, which you took no notice of because you were so focused. In your distraction, he soon drifted off to sleep with his pencil still in hand, head lulling back to rest on the sofa as his eyes shut by their own accord.

Forty minutes later, you had finished both of the units on Social Psychology and furrowed your brows at an unfamiliar name. “Hey Kev, did you guys talk about-“ you paused after turning to face your new friend, seeing that he was peacefully sleeping, his head now leaning to the side to face you.

The sight of him sleeping peacefully warmed your heart, especially after he had talked about his insomnia earlier. Smiling, you pulled your headphones out of your tote bag so you could listen to the recorded lectures in favour of waking up Kevin to ask him for help. As carefully as you could, you slid the pencil out of his palm and placed it to the side so he could get some rest.

You spent the next half an hour studying in silence, until you noticed Eric, Sunwoo and Jacob walking up to you and Kevin. “Hey,” Sunwoo greeted you, earning a wave from you.

“Hi guys,” you whispered back. “What’s up?”

“Are you and Kevin dating?” Eric interrupted whatever Sunwoo was about to say, an excited glint in his eyes. “You guys are in the make-out section of the library!”

You made a face. “That’s why nobody’s here?” you realised, looking around and frowning. “No, Eric. We’re just studying together.”

Jacob grinned. “Looks like Kevin’s making really great progress on that front,” he teased. “I’m Jacob, by the way,” he added, since the two of you hadn’t properly been introduced yet.

“I’m Y/n,” you replied. “Nice to finally meet you! These rascals have told me all about you,” you motioned to Sunwoo and Eric, who beamed proudly.

“I’ve heard a lot about you as well,” Jacob replied. “And I’ve come to collect Kevin. If he doesn’t wake up soon, he’s going to miss his Ceramics class,” he explained.

“Aw,” you pouted, glancing over at Kevin. “He looks so peaceful when he’s sleeping, though. And he said he was struggling to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Jacob agreed. “I hate waking him. Believe me, I’m his roommate so I see it all first-hand. But attendance is graded in this class, so…” he trailed off with a small shrug before leaning over and waking Kevin up.

Kevin awoke, eyes blinking drowsily as he took in the image of four people staring at him. “What did I do?” he asked, wondering what prompted all the attention.

You grinned, finding the sight rather cute. “Your wake-up service is here to tell you it’s ceramics time,” you explained.

“I fell asleep,” Kevin realised. “I’m sorry,” he apologised, feeling bad that you were studying in silence when you were supposed to be helping each other out.

“Don’t be, I’m glad you got some shut-eye,” you assured him. “Go get ready for your class.”

Kevin gathered all of his things into his bag and waved his goodbyes, trudging out of the library with Jacob. “So,” Jacob began, a wide grin gracing his features. “That’s Y/n?” he teased.

“Yes, that’s Y/n,” Kevin replied quietly.

“The famous Y/n?”

“Oh my god please tell me you didn’t say anything to Y/n.”

“What should I have said? Oh so you’re the Y/n that Kevin has been in love with all semester! The famous muse! Nice to meet you, I’m the guy that has to listen to him gush about you.”

“Don’t make me hide your guitar.”

moonscribbles accepted your follow request!

You sat up from where you were lying down on your bed, startled at the notification you had just received. Racing to open your Instagram app, you looked at moonscribbles’s account. None of the drawings on their account were of you, so you couldn’t decide if they were the right person. But they simply had to be. They went to your school, they studied art…

Braving it, you decided to send them a private message.

Hi! I think I found your sketchbook in Professor Shin’s lecture hall. How do you want me to return it to you?

You waited for a response, which came within a minute.

You can keep it.

You were pouting over your cereal in the dining hall when Juyeon joined you, his plate stacked high with all kinds of delicious breakfast foods. “Hey pouty,” he teased you, giving your shoulder a gentle nudge when he took the seat next to yours. His smile never failed to cheer you up, which is why your frown caused concern to grow in your best friend. “Why the long face?”

“I’m never going to meet moonscribbles,” you told him, your eyes uncharacteristically sad and shiny when they met Juyeon’s.

He startled at how upset you were. “What? Why would you say that?”

“They accepted my follow request on Instagram,” you explained. “And they told me I could keep the sketchbook. Then they went offline,” you recalled. “I guess I was wrong about them.”

“I’m sorry. Whoever they are, they clearly have no idea what they’re missing.” Juyeon frowned, sympathetic of your situation and confused about what Kevin thought he was doing.

“What who’s missing?” Jacob and Eric took the seats opposite you and Juyeon, their plates equally filled with breakfast foods.

“Moon scribbles,” you said vaguely, not wanting to get into it with anyone other than Juyeon and Sunwoo. While you were starting to get to know Jacob better, you didn’t feel comfortable enough around them to discuss the matter with them. And of course you loved Eric, and he knew your situation, but you hadn’t anticipated feeling so upset about Moon scribbles’s response.

“Kevin?” Jacob asked innocently, picking up his fork and elbowing Eric so he wouldn’t steal his food. “What did he do?”

Your eyes snapped over to Jacob. “What did you just say?” you asked. Juyeon’s eyes widened, mouth slightly open as Jacob revealed Kevin’s secret to you without even realising it.

“I was asking what Kevin did,” Jacob repeated. “You said Moon scribbles, didn’t you? Kevin’s artist handle?”

“That’s clever,” Eric chimed in, innocently eating his food. “Since his last name is Moon, and all.” Then his eyes widened and he realised the situation, his gaze snapping over at you to see how you were handling the reveal.

In that moment, you’d never felt like more of an idiot.

“Kevin is Moon scribbles,” you echoed, dropping your fork onto your tray.

“Oh,” Jacob paused, reading the room as he saw the way Juyeon was staring at him. “Did you… not know that?”

“No,” you told him, having lost your already minimal appetite. “He didn’t say a thing.”

“Oh boy,” Jacob said awkwardly. “I feel like I definitely just messed up.”

“No, no,” you denied, waving your hand in Jacob’s direction. “Not at all. I’m just glad that I know who it is,” you tried to convince him, as well as yourself. “Did you know?” you asked Juyeon. “That day at the exhibition… You were trying to tell me that you knew it was Kevin, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I knew,” Juyeon replied slowly, confirming your suspicions.

For a moment, a dull pain ached in your chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, hurt that your best friend had lied to you.

“Because I figured Kevin wanted to tell you in his own time,” he explained. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you, I just thought he’d do the right thing and explain it to you himself. It felt like it wasn’t my news to tell.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “I understand,” you got to your feet, grabbing your tray after putting your bag on your shoulder.

Juyeon stood up with you. “Are you upset with me?” he asked. “Because I understand if you are.”

You did your best to smile, not caring if it looked real or not. “I’m not upset with you,” you assured him. “I’m upset, but not at you. I have to get to the last dress rehearsal before opening night, so,” you glanced over at Jacob and Eric, who both looked mortified. “Enjoy your breakfast,” you told them before putting your tray away and walking to the theatre as quickly as you could.

“Hey!” your director greeted you when you came in, beaming. “You’re like a half hour early,” she observed.

“Oh, I’ve just come to go over lines and talk to some friends,” you lied, smiling at her before stepping backstage. The set design volunteers were adding last-minute touched to their sets, and you knew that was where you’d find Kevin.

“Hey,” he greeted you when you arrived in front of him. “What’s up?”

“Moon scribbles doesn’t want their sketchbook back,” you told him, as if you didn’t know that he was Moon scribbles. “So you don’t have to keep looking for them,” you added.

“Oh, okay,” Kevin nodded as if he didn’t already know this. “Did you want the sketchbook back?”

“You can keep it,” you declined, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s rightfully yours anyway.”

Kevin paused his painting. “It is?” he asked, voice squeaking just slightly in surprise.

“Yeah, Moon scribbles,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “Besides, it’s the only way you’ll get to see me ever again, anyway,” you added, frowning as you turned around to go. “Bye, Kevin.”

“Wait,” Kevin put his fine paintbrush down to stop you from leaving.

“What?” you asked him, facing him with a raised eyebrow. “You know what, I actually really want to hear this. What exactly is it that you’re going to say to save this situation?” you wondered.

Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean for it to go on this long,” he began.

“That’s a joke,” you accused. “You knew how much this meant to me! Just admit that you were never going to tell me that you’re Moon scribbles.”

“How could I tell you?” Kevin exclaimed, startling you with his sudden increase in volume. “How could I just come forward and tell you that it was me? What would you have thought of me?”

“I’d have thought more of you than I do now,” you retorted. “Look, I get it now. I read the situation all wrong. You don’t think I’m special or vibrant or any of those things. You just drew me because I was there, I suppose,” you decided, feeling your heart dropping in your chest at your own words.

“That is not true,” Kevin denied, shaking his head. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“I suppose you might have though I was pretty if you drew me,” you allowed. “But clearly, I was putting too much onto this whole Moon scribbles thing, and it didn’t mean anything to you at all. Which is fine, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It just sucks that you couldn’t just tell me that to my face,” you confessed wholeheartedly. “But it’s fine. You can just go back to drawing your faceless muse now, I’m over it,” you lied.

“That’s not why I didn’t want to tell you that I’m Moon scribbles,” Kevin insisted. “I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to think I drew you just because you’re beautiful.”

“That worked out well,” you muttered.

Kevin sighed. “I don’t care about your looks, as ironic as that sounds. When I first saw you… You exuded an aura. I know that sounds cheesy and not everyone believes in vibes or energy, or whatever, but it’s true. You inspired me to draw and be creative,” he explained. “But I liked you when I met you. When I saw you in class and when I saw you around Sunwoo and Juyeon. You don’t get it. You are my faceless muse. You have been ever since our Cultural Anthropology class last semester.”

That stopped your train of thought. “You were in that class?” you repeated, confused.

“Yes I was. The first time I saw you… I swear, I haven’t drawn anything other than you since that day,” Kevin’s tone was uncharacteristically serious, and you felt inclined to believe him. “No matter how hard I tried. Flowers turned into your eyes, landscapes became your hair; I was a man possessed. I still am.”

“Then why not tell me all of this?” you wondered, frustrated with the situation.

���I thought that if you found out I was Moon scribbles, you’d just think I was shallow,” he paused. “Or worse.”

You rose an eyebrow. “Worse?”

Now it was Kevin’s turn to sound frustrated. “I mean, I’m not so great and special. I figured you’d be disappointed that it’s me.”

Your heart clenched for him. “How could I be disappointed that it’s you?” you asked him. “You’re great. It’s me who’s awful.”

“You aren’t awful,” he denied. “You’re so much greater than you can see. Don’t you get it? You inspired me to create after the most awful year I’ve ever had artistically. I drew you instead of studying, I drew you instead of leaving my dorm, hell, I drew you instead of sleeping. You didn’t misunderstand anything. I do think that you’re special, and vibrant.”

You buried your face in your hands. “Okay,” you spoke quietly, your mind spinning in circles. “I believe you.”

Kevin nodded. “Good.”

You nodded back at him, unsure of how to continue. “So… You have a sketchbook full of drawings of me,” you decided to tease him, just to bring some of the usual lightheartedness you felt around Kevin back.

Kevin visibly reddened at your words. “I mean… I’d be lying if I said it was just one,” he confessed.

You brightened at his words. “You have multiple sketchbooks full of drawings of me?” you exclaimed.

“I made drawings of you for the art exhibition,” he reminded you. “I haven’t been able to draw anything else for seven months. And I draw a lot, so the sketchbooks just started piling up. Plus my iPad,” catching the delighted glint in your eyes, Kevin cut himself off. “You know what, we don’t have to talk about my iPad.”

You smiled, flattered that Kevin had been so inspired by you. “Well, thank you. For filling sketchbooks and iPads and whatever other mediums with drawings of me. You made me feel seen for the first time in a really long time, and I appreciate it,” you acknowledged his efforts. “Is this why everyone acts so weird when we’re together?” you put the pieces together.

“What are you talking about?” Kevin asked, dreading your answer.

“Eric practically skips over to me whenever he sees me now, asking about you and all kinds of other things. Jacob is a lot more subtle, but he looks at me like a proud dad sometimes,” you explained.

Kevin rested his palm against his forehead. “Why are they so obvious?”

“The real question is: Why was Juyeon the least obvious,” you retorted.

“I think he just wanted us both to figure things out in our own time,” Kevin mused, earning a hum and a nod in agreement from you.

“Hey Y/n,” Younghoon poked his head around the corner. “We’re getting ready for rehearsals. Are you going to be done in time to change?” he asked, eyes flitting between you and Kevin.

“Yeah, I’m good to start getting ready. Thanks Younghoon,” you agreed, grateful that your friend wasn’t making a big deal out of what he might have overheard. Younghoon nodded, disappearing with a wink to get himself ready. “Well, that’s my cue,” you trailed off, motioning to the backstage area where you had to get changed for your last dress rehearsal.

Kevin nodded, slightly upset that your conversation didn’t come to a closure yet. “Okay,” he replied. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

You agreed with him, grabbing your bag from where you dropped it on the floor and making your way to the changing rooms. Before you opened the door, you turned back to face Kevin, who had been watching you leave. “I came to your exhibition, so you have to come to opening night,” you reminded him of the agreement the two of you made.

“I’ll be there,” Kevin assured you, taking it as a sign that the two of you could still – at the very least – be friends.

“Good,” you smiled. “And after opening night, we have a few days off so I would definitely be available, say, Wednesday?” you informed him, hoping he’d get the idea.

Kevin brightened up, his posture straightening suddenly. “Oh?” he stammered. “Would you maybe want to get dinner on Wednesday?” he offered. “Like, a date?”

You grinned, your eye dropping into a wink. “What an excellent idea,” you told him. “By the way, don’t bother asking the boys about what I like, they’re completely clueless. My favourite flowers are peonies.”

“Peonies,” Kevin repeated, accompanied by a nod. “Any preferred colour?” he asked, giddy with excitement at the outcome your confrontation had.

You shrugged. “Surprise me.”

note: okay i know you guys waited forever for this so thank you so much for your patience!! i hope you guys enjoyed it xx

[freddyfreebat]

Jack Dylan Grazer Discovers Who He Is in Luca Guadagnino's “We Are Who We Are”

After supporting roles in the It and Shazam!, the young actor shifts gears with his turn as a capricious army brat in the Call Me By Your Name director's new HBO series.

by Iana Murray / Photography by Nik Antonio  —  September 14, 2020

A few years ago, Jack Dylan Grazer took a trip to the movie theater. He was in Toronto and it was one of his days off from filming Shazam!, the DC comedy in which he plays the shape-shifting hero’s foster brother. He decided to watch Call Me By Your Name, and he immediately fell for it. Grazer took note of the director’s name that appeared in the credits—Luca Guadagnino—and turned to his mother.

“I want to work with him,” he told her. With eerie prescience, she assured him: “You will.”

Whether Grazer, now 17, has a knack for manifestation, or it was all just happenstance, his wish came true in the form of We Are Who We Are, Guadagnino’s coming of age drama which follows a group of army brats living on an American military base in Italy. Thematically, the show is something of a spiritual successor to Call Me By Your Name: Grazer plays Fraser, a tempestuous 14-year-old with a pair of headphones constantly plugged in his ears. He’s the new arrival at the base with his mothers (Chloë Sevigny and Alice Braga), and quickly forms a deep bond with his neighbour, Caitlin (Jordan Kristine Seamon), as they both wrestle with their sexuality and identity in the midst of domestic troubles and teenage debauchery.

“He’s an enigma to himself,” Grazer says of his character. “He doesn’t really understand a lot of the things he does but he’s so forthright so he convinces himself that he knows everything. He feels like other people don’t deserve his intelligence. But he’s also very volatile and aggressive at times, and not because he’s coming from an angry place but because he’s constantly questioning who he is.”

If Fraser is just beginning his coming of age when we first meet him, Grazer is inching closer to the end. Starring in enormous blockbusters including IT, he became the Loser Club’s resident hypochondriac at age 12 and a superhero’s sidekick by 15. His films have grossed a combined total of over $1.5 billion. Suddenly the stakes are multiplied tenfold during what are ostensibly, and horrifyingly, the most awkward years of your life. Every misstep is now being monitored, examined through a microscope of millions. (See: His 3.8 million fans on Instagram, to say nothing of the countless stan accounts.) Child fame is a disarming transaction like that: a stable career and all the other perks of being a celebrity, but at the cost of normalcy. That unalleviating pressure forces a kid to mature fast.

Grazer is acutely aware of this fact, admitting outright that he’s “not a normal person.” But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I became 70 when I was 7!” he laughs. “I don’t know if I really had much of a childhood. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to grow up really fast.”

Nevertheless, he’s still 17. When we meet over Zoom, his shoulder length curls are damp and disheveled (he just got out of the shower), his black painted fingernails contrast with his brightly-lit, white bedroom as he rests his face on his hand. It’s a Saturday morning and he looks tired: It’s his first week back at school, which has traded classrooms for hours of video calls reminiscent of the one we’re currently on. “It feels like the days are shorter because the teachers don’t want to torture their students by keeping them on a computer for six hours a day,” he tells me. “You do miss the social aspect of being at school.”

If you were to judge Grazer by what’s out there on the internet, you’d expect an anarchic and relentless bundle of energy. A quick YouTube search brings up results like “jack dylan grazer being a drama queen” and “jack dylan grazer being chaotic in interviews for 4 and a half minutes straight.” He trolled a YouTube gamer on Instagram Live. His TikToks are inscrutable.

But here, he’s incredibly earnest, as he excitedly talks about his skateboarding hobby (a skill he picked up after auditioning for Mid90s) and his attempts to learn the flute (“I need to learn how to read sheet music, but it’s like reading Hebrew!”). He’s calm and thoughtful, as if this project we’re discussing requires a shift in sensibility.

For Grazer, acting had always simply been fun. While other kids might take up a sport or get hooked on video games, he performed in musical theater with the Adderley School because he “just wanted to play.” His roles so far have been reflective of his carefree approach to the job: Up until now, he’s portrayed best friends with biting one-liners, or the younger version of the protagonist in a flashback. IT is a prime example of both. In the horror franchise, Grazer plays a neurotic germaphobe running from a fear-eating clown, but in reality, the film felt like “summer camp.” Both films never felt like work; he just learned his lines and got to hang out on extravagant sets with his best friends. Likewise, school amounted to being pulled off set by a teacher in between takes to cram in the mandatory hours.

But with We Are Who We Are, he steps into his first leading role, one that required him to convey longing and confusion through Elio-like physicality and subtext. It’s abnormal to talk about the show as a turning point for an actor who isn’t even a legal adult yet, but Grazer explains that the show required him to radically change his approach to acting. He spent six months in Italy (“It felt like I was in Call Me By Your Name.”) and built up the character beyond what was on the page in collaboration with Guadagnino. “His philosophy is that we know our characters better than anyone else—even the writers—because we are the characters essentially,” he explains.

In many ways, Grazer absorbed that philosophy entirely. He describes the experience less as a performance and more like a “rebirth”—perhaps even an attempt at method acting. Over those months in Italy, the distinctions between actor and character gradually became indistinguishable. “I had no other choice but to act and surrender to Fraser entirely and throw Jack Dylan Grazer out the window,” he says. “I would go out and get a coffee as Fraser and walk like Fraser. That was just me trying to get into [character], but then I slipped at some point and just became Fraser.”

One day on set, he looked at himself in the mirror, and the hardened kid standing there with a bleach-blond dye job and oversized shorts was unrecognizable to him. He could only see Fraser. While talking about his character, he seems to unintentionally switch pronouns, from “he” to “I”, as if the two still remain one and the same.

The process was so transformative that it forced him to re-evaluate himself entirely. “I never really struggled with identity before,” Grazer tells me. “But I think the show opened up my eyes to question myself. Being Fraser forced me to question what I wanted and what I stood for and what I believed in. At some points, the show bled into reality.”

When asked how he has changed, he takes a pause and a pensive swivel in his armchair, unsure of how to answer. “I think I was more ignorant before I did the show,” he says, and he leaves it at that.

Coming of agers are a particularly well-trodden genre, but there’s a naturalistic, raw energy to We Are Who We Are that is distinctive from what we’ve seen before. Each character quietly struggles with their own problems and growing pains—for Fraser, it’s his sexuality. Caught in a fraught relationship with his lesbian mother and an infatuation with another man, his story doesn’t tick off the familiar beats. His personal discovery is instead internal and intimate. "I think every single person born as a boy has this guard. It’s this guard that they don’t even realize they have, where they’re initially like, ‘Being gay? I could never.’ But we’re all born as humans who are attracted to whatever we’re attracted to," he says. "I think that’s how Fraser interprets it as well. Yes, he’s reserved and nervous about it in the beginning because he’s unlocking this new idea for himself. He’s figuring it out, and that’s what you see in the show: him coming to terms with this idea."

As our conversation winds to a close, I ask him if Martin Scorsese ever visited the set—his daughter, Francesca, plays the confident cool girl of the show’s teen cohort—and his eyes widen. “That was actually a really stressful day,” he divulges. Still, he revels in the memory, speaking so fast it’s like someone has put him on 2.5x speed as he shows off his impersonation of Guadagnino. The director was so nervous about Scorsese’s presence that production halted that day.

“Luca was like, ‘I cannot do this today because Martin Scorsese is on my set. I don’t know what to do, this is not good for me. I will have a panic attack before the day ends,’” Grazer says in his best Italian accent. “It’s like if you’re a painter and Van Gogh shows up.” 

Admittedly, Grazer is also a self-proclaimed superfan of the Wolf of Wall Street director, and afterwards, he got to spend several days with his idol, as they went on lavish restaurant outings in Italy and talked about anything and everything.

He takes a second to compose himself. A giddy, Cheshire cat smile spreads across his face. The kid in him comes flooding back.

“...Oh my god!” he yells. “I met Martin Scorsese!”

[peterprkrsbtch]

sapphire - part 2

Peter Parker x reader

A/n: Part 1 is up on my page! There’s a couple flashbacks in this one so I put the dates before so it doesn’t get confusing. If you enjoy this one, like or reblog to share! I already wrote part 3 and it’s my favorite one yet so that’ll def be up soon :)

tag- @juliannaamonroe​

Warnings: swearing, make out, violence

(September 1)

We’re one minute away. Come out hoe!

You smile as you read the text, glancing at yourself in the mirror again, nerves and excitement ablaze in your stomach. You’d been planning for this day since last winter, and now it was finally here. You adjust your carefully styled hair and double check that the natural makeup you applied was sitting on your skin correctly.

Of course it was. That goddamn injection sometimes made you feel like a vampire out of twilight and sometimes you still got surprised when you saw your own face while passing a mirror or a particularly reflective window. You smooth down the ruffles of your short black skirt and tug the top of your tank top down so a bit more of your curves show.

You put on your white sneakers and tug your shirt back up to cover your chest again. We’ll have to work up to that, I guess. A long honk sounds from outside your apartment building and you curse as you scramble to grab your backpack and phone before running down and out the front steps.

“Awwww,” You say sweetly at the sight of the two girls who had become your best friends. “That’s the shirt you were wearing when we met, Ally.” You jokingly brush away a tear, pretending to be ultra touched.

“Best damn day of my life.” Ally says from her spot in the drivers seat, laughing at your dramatics. She may be joking around, but her sentiment makes your heart clench. This year really was going to be different.

***

(July 3)

You quickly realized you needed to find some Midtown friends if your plan for senior year was going to work. If you dared to show up looking, well, like you do, completely alone and friendless, you might become even more of an outcast than you were before. The first month of summer had been the least lonely time of your year so far, thanks to a certain Spiderman.

The two of you spent most of your nights together, flying through the city, fighting crime together, and talking. The “slow” nights that used to fill you with boredom quickly became your favorite when he was involved. The sound of his laugh and the jokes he makes during fights quickly became the highlight of your days.

But you couldn’t let yourself get too distracted by him. After all, neither of you knew what the other looked like. The only other boy you’d ever found remotely cute (other than celebrities) was nerdy Peter Parker from your high school. He wasn’t your usual type and he seemed to be just as shy as you were, so you had little (zero) hope that it would ever lead to anything more than a smile during the hallway if you accidentally made eye contact.

Sorry Spiderman, but no way in hell are you gonna make me lose my focus. The loneliness you had felt through the last three years of high school was too much. Your plan had to work. So that night as the two of you patrolled together, you softly mentioned that you were going to a pool party tomorrow and wouldn’t be able to meet.

He seemed a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off, trying to remember the names of the girls at your school who seemed nice. Peter, however, couldn’t focus on anything other than the fact that you had told him where you would be tomorrow. There was only so many pool parties in a city like New York.

You tried not to think about who was under the Spiderman mask out of respect and, to be honest, it seemed like a pointless endeavor. Peter was not the same. No matter how tired he was from patrol, he always had time to lay awake before he fell asleep and picture what you would look like under the mask.

There wasn’t very many people who understood Peter’s secret life. None, actually, until you. Maybe that was why he was so intrigued by you, because you were so similar, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t it. He liked you. And he hated himself for it. But once you mentioned the pool party, he made sure to take one long last glance at the color of your hair before you two said goodbye. Just in case he happened to see that same hair tomorrow.

(July 4)

You were so, so nervous. Your closet of exclusively sweats and hoodies was trashed as Part 1 of your plan, much to your mother’s happiness. She had always been honest about her hatred of your junior year clothes and was extremely excited to purchase everything you needed. As distant as she was, you had to give her a little credit.

Although you’d been wearing the new clothes for the past month, this was the first time you were doing it so publicly. Your denim shorts exposed miles of smooth leg, and you’d decided to wear a red tube top in honor of the holiday-not to mention it really showed off your curves. You’d meticulously done your hair and makeup like you’d been practicing the past month and prayed that somebody would talk to you today.

You’d seen the flyer for the Fourth of July party on Instagram, which had been step 2. Unfortunately, you had two followers. Your mom and her boyfriend. Step 2 is a work in progress.

One long walk later, and you’re in front of the address. You swear you could explode of nerves right there, but instead you take a deep breath and force your legs to carry you inside the house and towards the people out by the pool.

Your eyes are so focused on your destination, the glass sliding door, that you barely notice when you bump shoulders with someone, causing you to drop your phone.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You say, reaching down to grab your phone.

“Oh my god, stop. That was totally my fault.” You stand back up to see the girl who was speaking, and you recognize her immediately. Her name is Ally, and she’s a part of the most popular group at school. Despite her long black hair and sweet smile, you haven’t heard many good things about her. Not the type of person you were looking for.

“Do you go to Midtown? I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” Ally says, making no move to walk away from the conversation.

“Yeah, actually. My name is Y/n?” You don’t miss the way her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen with confusion and shock. You’re embarrassed now, realizing maybe you weren’t as invisible as you’d thought. In an effort to explain away the last few years, “My dad left a couple years ago and it was pretty hard on me, but I’m all better now.” You flash the most dazzling smile you can manage and hope she accepts it.

“No way, mine did too!” She gasps as she grabs your hands. You feel a small pang of guilt at that. It was a lie, you had no idea who your dad was and frankly, you didn’t think your mom knew either.

The conversation starts to flow between you and Ally easily as you make your way out to the pool. “This is my best friend Betty.” Ally introduces you to the sweet-as-pie girl and the three of you quickly fall into a conversation like you’d known each other forever. A few of their guy friends tried to come up and talk to you, but she just waved them away. “Leave us alone, we just met our new best friend.”

You felt bad for judging Ally so harshly earlier, blindly trusting the stupid rumors you’d heard about her. Popular or not, the three of you got along better than any of the other friends you’d tried to make throughout your life. They do briefly make fun of your instagram before forcing you to take and post pictures with the two of them by the pool. They both tag your account.

Peter didn’t seem to share the good luck you did. He’d dragged Ned to 6 different pool parties across the city and saw no one who looked like Sapphire. Disappointed, he spent the night patrolling alone and dodging fireworks.

***

(September 1)

Since that day, you’d become a trio with Ally and Betty. The day after the pool party you’d woken up to nearly 1,000 followers on your instagram. Everyone from Midtown who never gave you a second look when you had your hood shoved over your head now wanted to be your friend.

The three of you spent the rest of your summer days together, and you fit into the popular friend group better than you could have imagined. Maybe you watched too many teen movies, but you expected them to be mean. The only mean one was Flash, and even he was basically harmless. You’d given up Saturday night patrols with Spiderman for a weekly girls night with your new best friends. You thought having new friends and a bustling social life would’ve made it easier to forget about Spiderman, but somehow he seeped into every area of your life.

That damn laugh. As Ally and Betty sing along to the radio loudly, you bite your lip to stop a dumb smile from rising to your lips. God, just thinking about him made you flustered. As Ally drives into the school parking lot, nerves bubble in your stomach.

As if you aren’t stressed enough, your brain decides this is the perfect moment to remind you of the one night this summer you and Spiderman haven’t talked about since.

*** (August 14)

The two of you were sprawled out on a gravel rooftop next to each other. Not the most comfortable of relaxing spots, but you’d both grown tired of flying around under the summer heat with no hint of trouble for miles.

“This sucks.” Spiderman huffs out.

“Rude.” You reply quickly, even though you know he isn’t talking about you.

“Oh, no,” He immediately sits up. “I didn’t mean you suck, I just meant, you know, because there’s not much going on right now and it’s hot and-” He sees your cheeky smile and stops himself with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s cute.” You bite your lip. The fuck did I just say? Before you can begin to explain, he jumps to his feet.

“Spidey sense, let’s go!” You jump up too and follow after him as he jumps off the building. Thank god. I’ve never been so grateful that someone’s in trouble. The fight was tough, even with the both of you. These men had strange guns that keep firing at you and Spiderman even though you’d tried multiple times to crush them with your powers.

“The guns are magic-proof! I can’t destroy them!” You yell over to Spiderman as you take down one of the men in between punches.

Somehow, two men get ahold of their guns and corner you. Just as you start levitating to fly over them, a web shoots from somewhere behind them and the men and their guns are yanked away. Spiderman wastes no time and you swear he seems angry with the two men as he webs them to the wall next to their friends before picking up the guns and violently smashing them on the ground.

You’re still frozen in shock, watching him. When he seems to be satisfied with the broken pile of guns on the floor, he runs back over to you. “I’m so sorry, I know we promised-” You finally break out of whatever trance you were in to place a finger over his lips, casting a disgusted glance towards the men staring at you from their webbed cocoons.

“Not here.” You say quietly, and fly the two of you quickly up to the roof. He blinks for a second, his head spinning from the speed. You rarely use your full speed, especially with him, but you had to get out of there. “Okay, go ahead.” You say after a second of silence.

“I’m so sorry, I know we agreed not to get in each other’s way, and I know you can handle yourself, probably better than I can. Hold on, I didn’t mean I handle you. That sounded weird. Anyways, I just got so angry when I saw those men pointing their guns at you I had to-” He’s talking about the agreement you two had made when you first started working together. You both obviously were skilled, so you agreed that you wouldn’t interrupt each other’s fights unless asked.

“Spidey, I really don’t care you interrupted. It was hot.” JESUS CHRIST NOT AGAIN. You immediately winced and slap a hand over your mouth. “Oh my god I did NOT mean to say that I’m so sorry.”

Your rambling is cut off as Spiderman’s hand travels up to the bottom of his mask and you think your eyes might fall out of your head with how wide they become as he begins to pull it up, revealing the soft pale skin of his neck.

His jaw, chin, and then lips become visible as he lets the mask rest on his nose. The 0.5 seconds that have passed since you stopped talking feel like an eternity until he suddenly leans forward, crashing his lips into yours. Spiderman is an amazing kisser, you decide, as you gently kiss him back.

WHAT AM I DOING? Your mind is going haywire but instead of stopping, you deepen the kiss and nearly smile when he lets out a low moan. Everything you’ve told yourself about focus and distractions flies out the window when his gloved hands clutch your waist and pull you closer to him than you thought possible.

It feels like it’s only been a second when he pulls away, but your eyes flicker to his swollen lips and you know it must have been longer. You smile as you stare at his lips, only inches from yours, but as your gaze moves to the rest of his exposed skin the smile drops slowly.

Your rational mind comes back. It’s easy to forget when you’re with him that you’ve only known each other a couple months. How could you do this? Your first time making out with a boy, and he doesn’t even know your name.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whisper as he starts to say something.  “Sorry, what were you going to say?” He blinks slowly and takes a deep breath before stepping away from you.

“Nevermind. See you tomorrow.” And he swings away from you. You silently curse yourself for being such a big mouth, wanting to know what he would have said. You can’t help the small voice in the back of your head, telling you that you made the wrong decision.

You raise your hand to run your fingers along your tingling lips before flying home as fast as you can.

***

(September 1)

You wince at the painful memory before reminding yourself everything was back to normal the next day and neither of you mentioned it again. You still weren’t sure if that was good or bad. You force all thoughts of Spiderman out of your brain and even give Ally an encouraging cheer when she successfully parks on her first try.

You don’t remember Midtown having so many fucking students last year, but maybe it was because they were all staring at you. Any confidence you’d had as you opened Ally’s car door had disappeared as everyone around you turned to gawk. The bright smile you’d pasted on a second ago quickly fell and you glanced at Ally nervously.

“Come on, girls!” She says enthusiastically, grabbing an arm from you and Betty as she breaks the brief moment of awkward silence. God bless you Ally. As the three of you hoist your bags over your shoulders and make your way into the school, you mouth a quick thank you her way, hoping she can see your genuine appreciation. She smiles at you. “I’m happy we’re going into this year as three instead of two.”

Betty leans forward to smile at you. “Me too, y/n. I’m really happy you’re here.”  You smile back brightly. There really was no one as sweet as Betty.

“You won’t be so happy I’m here when I talk your ear off during class.” The three of you continue laughing and joking your way down the hall to stop at your lockers.

“Oh my god, is that Y/n?” Ned interrupts Peter’s latest ramble about his night with Sapphire. Usually, he really did listen. Ned was fully invested in the superhero love story, as he called it, unfolding. But the sight of a girl notorious for hiding in her own baggy clothes across the hall in a miniskirt and tank top was more important.

“Y/n?” Peter asks, confused why Ned wasn’t paying attention. But when he turned around to see what Ned was staring at, he understood. He’d seen you around school the past three years, but never like this.

You looked like a fucking model. And everyone in the hall couldn’t help but stare. “Holy shit.”

“Right, dude?” Ned breathes out, the two of them shamelessly staring. “Why didn’t that happen to me over summer? Oh my god, of course she’s friends with Betty.”

Peter laughs as his best friend goes on about “two pretty best friends” but he can’t take his eyes off of you. The light in your eyes as you joke with your friends, making them double over in laughter, feels strangely familiar. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on his part because you’re extremely pretty.

He watches in surprise as you and Ally walk up to the AP Chem classroom, waving goodbye to Betty sadly as she heads off to English. You turn to walk into the classroom after Ally, but you pause and look back down the hallway-right at him. Instead of yelling at him for being a creep like he expected, you smile at him widely before heading into the class. He exhales deeply and glances down at his schedule quickly, a smile appearing. AP Chem.

Of course his thoughts are still consumed by Sapphire, but it was hard to ignore you especially after seeing his name on the seating chart next to yours in the back row. Plus, Sapphire was the one who’d shot him down after he finally tried to make a move after catching onto the hints he thought she’d been dropping.

He felt bad for thinking that about her, he didn’t blame her at all. He knew there was a million reasons they shouldn’t be together-and he didn’t want to know specifics on why he wasn’t good enough. Sapphire hadn’t brought up that night since, and he was fine to pretend it never happened.

You were already in your seat at the lab table, but Ally was still standing next to you waving her hands wildly as you two spoke. He doesn’t want to interrupt so he freezes in place, unsure of whether or not to go sit down. He’d thought you were cute, and a little shy like him in freshman and sophomore year and he remembered the many times he would look at you from across the room like he is now.

His eyes had been quick to find you whenever you two were in the same room ever since the first day of school freshman year when you smiled at him in the hall. Even last year, when all he saw of you was a curled up lump at your desk or a sliver of hair peeking out from behind your hood he still noticed you.

Luckily for him, the bell rings and he slides into his seat just as the teacher begins speaking. “Hi, Peter.” You lean over to him, your shoulders nearly touching, and whisper so the teacher doesn’t hear. “I’m y/n.” You smile warmly as his cheeks and ears turn light pink.

“You don’t have to introduce yourself. We’ve gone to school together since we were 6?” Now it’s your turn to be embarrassed and you purse your lips together.

“No, I know, just-” Peter notices you seem a bit frustrated as you glance around the room and then lean even closer to him. “Everybody thinks I’m new.” You nervously mess with your bracelet.

“You do look a bit different.” He points out and you raise your eyebrows before sighing slowly and shrugging.

“I was just sick of feeling invisible, you know. Not because I care what anyone here thinks. Last year was just, really, really lonely.” Peter watches you intently as you speak, hanging onto your every word.

Your confession made him sad. If only he’d been brave enough to ask if you were okay. You pause for a second and meet his eyes. Any other guy in this school would’ve laughed at you by now. You gesture to your outfit and nervously adjust your skirt. “I’m also not a superficial person. It wasn’t about changing how I looked, I just needed the confidence to put myself out there.” You pause and nod towards Ally with a smile. Peter glances over to Ally and sees her blow you a kiss, which you catch across the room with a giggle.

I miss you! She mouths with a dramatic frown and this time Peter laughs quietly with you. “I thought she was a bitch before I met her.” He looks at you with surprise to find you smiling at him. “But,” you hold up a finger for dramatic effect, “because I put myself out there, I met my best friends. A lot of people around here judge on appearances. I’m not like that anymore.” You say with confidence.

“That’s really cool of you.” Peter whispers back, and the sound sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. He’s so close to you and the feelings you thought you left behind two years ago don’t seem so left behind as you stare into his warm eyes. “For the record, I’d be your friend no matter what you look like.”

Peter has only been this nervous a couple times before in his life, and he can’t help but feel like he’s betraying Sapphire with the way he’s thinking about you. He watches as you smile warmly at his words and extend your hand towards his.

“Friends? Even though I'm so much uglier now?” You pout your bottom lip out, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He nearly laughs out loud and has to remind himself you’re still in class. “I know guys go wild for the homeless man sweatpants look.” You’re both trying to hold back your laughter, shaking silently in the back of the class as he raises his hand and grabs yours.

“Friends.” Peter isn’t sure why he keeps going, but he does. “And just so you know, you were never ugly. I don’t know why you tried so hard to hide yourself last year, but even then,” the words leaving his mouth sound confident but Peter takes a deep breath before looking up from his lap to meet your eyes. Your wide eyes and surprised smile give him just the confidence he needs to finish. “You could never be ugly.” Peter can hear his heart beating.

You blink at him. This boy could not be real. Here he was, basically implying that the one thing you had wanted all along, for somebody to notice you, was true. Not only was it true, but it was Peter fucking Parker telling you this. Despite everything that had changed you in the past year, the giddy feeling in your bones brought you back to sophomore year and pining over Peter.

“Really?” Your smile spreads and he seems to let out a deep breath of relief.

“Yeah.” He smiles back at you until your sweet moment is interrupted by a fat ass syllabus dropping onto the lab table in front of you.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “This class is gonna be so much homework.” You turn the page so Peter can briefly see the list of projects alone, and it’s enough to make him cringe.

Something about the way the whispers travel back and forth between you all class makes you realize you hadn’t fallen into a friendship this easily, even with Ally. Even with Spiderman, your brain points out.

A red and blue suit swings into your mind and you are hit with a wave of guilt. Not two hours ago I was thinking about my make out with Spiderman, and now I’m comparing him to Peter? 

You have all but one class together, and you can’t help but glance in Peter’s direction any chance you get. The only time you don’t see him is at lunch, even though you look all around the lunch room for him or the boy he’d been standing with this morning. You thought it would be too creepy to ask him where he’d been.

Finally, the last bell of the day rang, and you were sure if you didn’t have superpowers you would’ve been exhausted. School is kinda draining when you actually acknowledge people. Ally and Betty share your complaints about being tired on your drive home, all three of you agreeing you need naps. You kiss them both on the cheek and wave goodbye before heading up to your room.

Forget what I said about having superpowers. I’m fucking tired. You lay down on your bed, groaning into the pillow at the thought of having to patrol tonight. You sat up abruptly. You’d never dreaded patrol, it was always the thing you looked forward to. You glance towards the suit in your closet and sigh.

It’s not patrol I’m nervous about. It’s him. You feel incredibly guilty about today. I’m not a two timer. If I want to like Peter, I have to talk to Spiderman about that kiss first. You start to make your way over to the closet before another wave of exhaustion hits, sending you straight back to your bed.

After a nap. Then we’ll talk.

[lilliagradiewrites]

wish you liked girls (kiara carrera)

Summary: You’ve been best friends with kiara for years, but lately you’ve noticed some changes in the way you feel towards her. When you hear the song she wrote about you, all is revealed.

WC: 4.5k

WARNINGS: homophobic, use of the f slur, cursing, nothing else really, just lots of angst and a lil fluff.

*this is based off of the song ‘wish you liked girls’ by Abbey Glover. I changed the lyrics around a little to fit the story better, but all credits to her nonetheless!!

A/N: happy new years my loves! this one shot is kind of my new years gift to all of you. I haven't been very active in the past few days, so I’m sorry about that. i tried to upload this on christmas, but tumblr was rude and didn’t let me, so here we are instead! wishing you all the greatest 2021, and I hope you all enjoy!

LET’S DO IT!!

~~~~~

You didn’t know exactly how you felt towards Kiara in the beginning. You feelings for her were indecipherable; more than friends… but also just friends?

The past few months had been a wild ride for you. Constantly, you were questioning your sexuality, and frankly everything you’d ever known.

It got harder as the days went on, and with every beautiful girl that showed up in your Instagram feed or your tiktok for you page.

And then, of course, there was Kiara.

Perfect, beautiful, unattainable Kiara.

She was your best friend, and you usually viewed your hangouts as a super comforting and safe space. Now, however, your hangouts were simply a cause for more stress.

Kiara was so… wonderful. After knowing her for many years, you could confidently say that the girl had no flaws.

Kie’s perfection made everything so much harder for you. Your feelings toward your friend were incredibly confusing.

Did you want to be her, or be with her?

The biggest issue was not your feelings for Kiara, but rather a completely separate problem.

Your boyfriend.

You were nearing a year with Hunter, the boy you found yourself lucky to call your own.

Hunter was an amazing guy, and everything a teenage girl could ask for in a boyfriend. He was considerate and sweet, and always knew the right thing to say to you. He never pressured you into intimacy, knowing that you weren’t comfortable or ready just yet.

You loved Hunter, you knew you did.

Yet, you found yourself feeling that same way towards Kiara.

This was the main issue causing the battle in your head. Was your love for Kiara just platonic? Or maybe you loved Hunter as a friend, Kiara was the one you wanted to be with?

None of those options felt right, but the last possible option made you feel confused and slightly guilty….

What if you wanted to be with them both?

All these thoughts rushed through your head as you brushed makeup on your face, preparing for a night with the girl who frequented your thoughts daily.

There was an open mic night at you and Kiara’s favorite indie cafe. Kie, who was unknowingly an amazing singer and songwriter, had played some music for you a while back, leading to a process of you encouraging her to grow as an artist.

For months, Kiara had been running song ideas by you. You could recall countless nights during which you and Kiara would sit on her bed, working together to finish up a song she’d been writing.

Kiara credits all her music to you completely, but you knew she was just being modest. The girl was undeniably talented.

That’s why, when you saw that Retro was having an open mic night, you’d insisted that your best friend go play one of her songs.

You had sat on her bed that night, the flyer you’d collected from the cafe sitting between the two of you.

You grabbed the notebook containing all of the lyrics you’d written together, and pored over the most recent piece.

The song was your best one yet. She’d been inspired by yet another fight between JJ and Rafe.

“What if I write something about the pogues and the kooks being so divided?” She’d suggested that same night. You could tell, judging by the look in her eyes, that a train of ideas was chugging in circles throughout her mind. “The whole thing is so ugly and gross… I just want to turn into something beautiful, you know?”

Without a second thought, you’d picked up a pencil and the song book you’d grown to be familiar with, and the two of you got down to work.

Two sleepless nights and countless cups of coffee later, the two of you had completed the piece. It was undoubtedly the best song you’d ever written. It captured the unnecessary feeling of hatred coming from the opposite groups of the island perfectly, adding a touch of soul. The moral of the song was simple: can we just get along?

Kiara had strung the words together beautifully, adding a gorgeous melody and some strums on her guitar. Once the two of you heard the lyrics had worked so hard on turned to music, you knew that there was something special about this piece.

That’s why you insisted so strongly that Kiara sing it at the open mic night.

“I don’t know, Y/N…” Kiara had twiddled her fingers, biting her lip in apprehension. “What if people hate my music? Or what if I fuck it up so bad I become a massive laughingstock. I don’t think I could handle it.”

You smiled, grabbing her hands to still them. “It’s a good thing you won’t have to worry about that, then, because you’re not gonna fuck it up.”

“You don’t know that for sure.” Kiara protested, breaking the gaze you’d been holding as you spoke.

“I do!” You grabbed Kiara’s chin, moving her face towards you so that her eyes met yours again. “You are fucking amazing, Kiara Carrera. Do not doubt yourself. You are so talented, Kie, I don’t think you even realize how incredible you are. I am going to that cafe tomorrow and signing you up for the open mic night whether you like or not.”

This was a threat, but not an honest one. You would never sign her up knowing she was uncomfortable. So, when you let go of your light grip on her chin, you listened intently for a murmur of approval.

After a moment, it finally came.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Yes!” You exclaimed in celebration, throwing your arms around your friend. “I’m so excited, you’re gonna be amazing!

Now, a few days later, you’re sitting at your vanity, preparing for the night you’d be waiting for. Kie was extremely nervous, so you’d taken her out shopping earlier that day to calm her down. She’d bought a new outfit for the open mic night, which looked amazing on her. She promised you that she’d come pick you up so you could go to the performance together, and you’d happily agreed.

You didn’t expect to be at your house an hour early, though.

You weren’t even halfway through your makeup when you heard a knock at your door.

You’d rushed down the stairs, praying you’d get to the door first.

Your parents never liked Kie. They knew she liked girls and guys, and called her a “Hippie whore.”

Your homophobic parents: Yet another reason you couldn’t come to terms with the way you felt towards your best friend.

The odds seemed to be in your favor today, as you reached the door before your parents and swung it open to reveal a highly nervous Kiara.

“Hey!” You smiled. “What are you doing here so early?”

Kiara bit her lip in embarrassment and looked down to her feet.

“I-I got nervous and I got ready way too early. I know I’m not supposed to be here for another 45 minutes, but I’m too freaked out to be alone. Is it okay if I hang out with you while you finish getting ready?” She questions softly, almost embarrassed.

You smile, finding her nerves exceptionally adorable.

“Yes, of course you can. Come in, come in.”

You grab her arm, closing the door behind her and pulling her quickly up the stairs. The last thing you wanted was for Kiara to have to interact with your parents.

Once in your room, you close the door and head back to your vanity, Kiara flopping down on your bed.

As you sat down and continued applying your makeup, you spoke to your friend.

“So, how nervous and excited are you for tonight?”

Kiara smiled lightly, and bit her lip once again. “Very for both.” She confesses with a small chuckle.

“I know you can’t tell someone not to be nervous but I can tell you that you shouldn’t be. You’re incredible, Kie. I can’t wait for everyone to see how talented my best friend is.

You focus hard on your eyeliner, leaning in to your mirror to make sure you get a clean wing.

Once you're done on both sides, you lean back and admire your work. Perfecting your winged liner was something you’d been working on for a while, and it seems that your practice has helped. The wings are sharp and pretty much even. If you don’t look too closely, the wings are seemingly symmetrical. This is good enough for you, you decide, capping the liquid liner and setting it back in your makeup drawer.

Finally done with your makeup, you begin cleaning off your desk. You put your products back in your drawer, and the brushes in the holder you have for them on the corner of your desk.

Standing up, you look at Kie with a smile. “Now help me pick out an outfit so that I look hot supporting you from the audience.”

45 minutes later, the two of you are finally ready to leave. Kie is nervous as ever, but you offer comforting words to try and help calm her down as much as possible. You grab your favorite bag and throw the essentials in it. Your phone, a portable charger (just in case), and a few extra hair ties. Once you were done, you turned to Kie, who was playing with her fingers anxiously. “You ready?” You asked, encouragement laced in your voice. Kiara, still very obviously apprehensive, could do nothing but nod. Taking your bag in one hand and Kiara’s hand in the other, you head out of your room and towards the front door.

The two of you made your way down the stairs, moving quickly to leave so that you didn’t have to interact with either of your awful parents. When you got to the bottom, you rushed for the door, fumbling with the door handle. The house you lived in was old, and all of the metal pieces (such as the door knob) were rusted and hard to use. You did your best trying to twist it open, saying a silent prayer that one of your parents didn’t round the corner and see Kiara with you. She was nervous enough as it is; she didn’t need your parents making her night even worse.

Unfortunately for the both of you, your prayers were seemingly denied as your mother walked into the foyer, arms crossed over her chest.

You had hardly even noticed her presence until she said your name, anger apparent in her voice.

“Y/N. How many times do I have to tell you who you can and cannot bring into our home?”

You grimaced at the sound of her voice, turning slowly, knowing you’ll be met with inescapable doom. In the process of turning, you saw the look on Kie’s face. She looked anxious and heartbroken, not to mention severely guilty. After seeing your best friend’s expression, you knew you weren’t cowering down to your mother.

Your original plan had been to apologize profusely and beg her to let you go with Kie, possibly even lying about where you were headed.

But you knew you had nothing to apologize for, and neither did Kie.

“I don’t see why it matters, Mom.”

Surprise flashed over your mother’s face, shocked by your confidence. Standing up for yourself wasn’t your usual reaction to her scoldings, and she wasn’t prepared for the reply she was given.

“It matters because it’s my house, and because I’m your mother. I told you I did not want people like her over at this house. Now send the girl on her way and come sit down with me. I think we need to talk.”

You had to admit, you were nervous to make your next move. You knew what you were going to do, and it would result in getting your ass shredded when you come back home. But you didn’t care; you had to be there for Kie.

“I can’t right now. Me and Kiara have a place to be, so…” You turned and messed with the doorknob some more, finally getting it to work correctly. “I’ll talk to you when I get home tonight. It shouldn’t be terribly late. But, I might stay over at Kie’s, so, you think you could wait until tomorrow?”

Anger washed quickly over your mother’s face. She uncrossed her arms so that she could clench her fists at her sides, moving towards you menacingly. “Absolutely not, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N. You will be staying here, and you will not be staying at her house. I won’t allow it.”

You smirked, a sudden confidence washing over you. “Well, that doesn’t sound very fun. Good thing I didn’t ask for your permission, huh?”

Kie looked shocked by your attitude, and your mother was getting angrier by the second.

“I’m going to need you to fix your attitude, young lady, or there will be severe consequences.”

“I don’t care. I don’t, and I’m not sorry about it. Kie is my best friend, whether you like it or not, and I’m spending the night with her.”

Your mother’s face was almost completely red. “Kie is a fag-”

“No. Don’t you dare finish that sentence. I will not allow you to talk to her that way. Why are you the way that you are?”

“Why are you hanging out with gay people? Do you like girls or something?”

“Why does it matter?” You’re fuming at this point. If she wasn’t your mother, you would’ve hit her by now.

“It matters because homosexuals are abominations. The Lord says so. I thought I’d taught you this by now, but clearly I didn’t press the word of God into you hard enough when you were younger.”

“No, Mom. Terrible people like you are an abomination. We’re leaving.”

And with that, you were gone, wrenching the door open and ushering Kie out of it, ignoring your mother’s shouts as you closed it behind you.

You rushed to Kie’s car, hopping in it as she pulled out of your driveway and sped through your neighborhood.

The two of you were completely silent for a moment. Both of you could barely process what had just happened. The more you thought about the situation, the more it upset you. Who was your mother to decide who you could and couldn’t hang out with? Especially when her reasons for you not hanging out with Kie were so disgusting.

What would your mother say if she knew the thoughts you’d been having?

After a little while, Kiara broke the silence. “Why is your mom like that?” Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, and you could tell by the tone of her voice that she was fighting tears.

You sighed. Hearing Kiara so upset, especially on a day that was supposed to be fun, broke you. “I wish I knew, Kie. I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t believe she accused you of liking girls just because you hang out with me. She’s so disrespectful for no reason.”

You shook your head. “You say it like it’s a terrible thing she ‘accused’ me of. It’s not a bad thing. She just made it bad because she’s a bitch.”

Kiara nodded, turning her head to gaze out the window. A momentary silence fell over the two of you, but you couldn’t help but feel like something wasn’t right. You glanced over at Kie, whose brows were furrowed. She bit her lip in thought.

Is there something she wanted to say?

“Kie? Are you alright?”

The brunette didn’t say anything. You knew something was up, so you pressed further.

“What’s on your mind, love?”

Kiara shot out her reply quickly, like it was taking all of her courage to say it.

“You didn’t deny it.”

“Deny what?”

“Liking girls.”

You paused briefly, letting the girls words sink in for a second.

“No, I didn’t.”

Kiara turned to you, a million emotions in her dark eyes. They all flashed as you made eye contact, making each feeling hard to identify. “Do you?”

“Like girls?” Your breathing was halted. Was Kiara… feeling the same way towards you as you had been for her?

“I-I don’t know.”

Kie turned towards you. When you looked at her, you could see the tears in her eyes.

You could identify a strong sense of hope in her dark eyes.

“You don’t know?”

Suddenly, you remembered.

Hunter.

Your amazing boyfriend that you loved so much.

“It doesn’t really matter though, I guess. Since I’m with Hunter.”

The words had left your mouth before you could stop them.

Kie took a deep breath, and looked away.

“Right. Hunter.”

A few minutes later, you’d arrived at the cafe. No more words had been spoken, and tension in the car was thick.

Once the car was parked, you finally spoke.

“Are you ready to go?”

Kie nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you climbed out of the car, Kiara going into the back to grab her guitar. Once everything was locked up, the two of you headed inside in silence.

The crowd was bustling with life in the small cafe. On one side, people with songbooks and sheet music sat with their instruments, and on the other side, people sat sipping on cups on coffee.

When you noticed the separation, Kie headed over to the performers side. You gave a light ‘good luck,’ to which Kiara didn’t reply, and then the two of you went separate ways.

Kiara took a seat in the performer section, looking nervously at the people around her. She tried her best to push away the feelings from the conversation in the car earlier, but it was very difficult. For a moment there, she had allowed herself to believe that the feelings she had for you were reciprocated. That look in your eye when you looked at her… something about it made her think you felt the same as she did. Unfortunately, she was wrong.

You just had to bring your Hunter.

Kiara hated Hunter, though she’d never let you know that. She had no real reason to hate him, but she did. She hated him so much, it was almost painful to see his face.

She hated him because he had what Kie wanted more than anything else in the world.

You.

Kie watched you as you moved around on the other side of the cafe. You were standing at the counter, talking to the barista. Though Kie couldn’t hear you over the bustle of the place, she knew exactly what you were saying.

You were ordering your usual: a large vanilla sweet cream cold brew with caramel drizzle. You order has been the same for what feels like forever. You had tried other things, but you always stuck to your favorite.

“I’ve never liked anything as much as this.” You’d said a few weeks earlier, when Kie had teased you for never changing your order.

Kie longed to be over there with you, teasing you about your order. Just talking to you lit up her life. You were everything to her, and she wasn’t even afraid to admit it.

You got your coffee, thanking the barista and dropping some change in the tip jar.

Kie watched as you scanned the room, searching for an empty seat. As you looked around, your eyes met Kiara’s, and you held her gaze for a moment. Though you didn’t know why she was being so cold towards you earlier, you couldn’t help but offer a small smile of encouragement.

To your great relief, she smiled back.

Once you knew she was alright, you broke her gaze and continued searching for a seat. You wanted to sit near the front, so that you could lock eyes with Kie when she was on stage as a form of moral support, but all of the front seats were taken.

Slightly disappointed, you had to take a seat in the back, near the exit.

When Kie saw that smile you gave her, she knew something had to be done. Even when the two of you weren’t really on the best terms, you continued to support her.

She loved you so fucking much.

Right then and there, Kiara made a decision, one she hoped she wouldn’t come to regret in the future.

An hour had gone by, and many performers had made their way on and off the stage in the small cafe. You counted down the performers until your best friend went on the stage, nervously playing with the straw on your cup. Even though you weren’t the one going up on the stage, you still felt terrified.

When the performer before your friend was reading off the last lines of his slam poem, your heart began to race.

The guy walked off, and you watched your friend stand up.

“Next up, we have Kiara Carrera, performing an original song called ‘differences aside.’ Let’s give her a very warm welcome!”

You could barely hear the announcer calling Kie’s name over the sound of your heart pounding.

Up on the stage, Kiara’s heart was pounding just as loud.

See, when Kie showed up at your house earlier in the day, she had completely intended to sing the song the two of you had written together. ‘Differences Aside’ was a beautiful song, and one she was very proud of. However, after the events that had went down on the way to the cafe, her mind had changed.

She was writing a song she had written by herself.

A song she wrote about you.

“Hey, everyone, I’m Kiara. I know I said that I was gonna be singing a song called ‘Differences Aside,’ but there’s been a slight change of plans. I’m going to be singing a different original instead. I hope you all enjoy it.”

When she had finished talking, she made direct eye contact with you. You were shocked by her words, and a little bit upset. Was she really so frustrated with you, or hurt by your previous conversation, that she refused to sing the song you wrote together?

It was heartbreaking, and you moved lower in your seat as she began strumming her guitar, fighting the tears forming in your eyes.

“I grew pretty attached to you,

Like a dog on a lead

Thought you were everything I could’ve dreamed of,

And all I could ever need.

But you like him, him, him

But you like him, him, him

And you don’t like me.”

Kiara’s voice rang out as she began singing. She sounded beautiful, and the song was very pretty.

You would’ve loved it, but you were slightly confused.

With every word she sang, she was looking directly into your eyes.

“Always thought you looked at me differently

Than any other you'd see

Thought you were aching to see me

At any, any possibility

But you like boys, boys, boys

But you like boys, boys, boys

And you don't like me.”

Your eyes widened at the last lyrics.

Was this song about you?

“I could be a bitch and tell you a million reasons why

Being with me would be much better than with any other guy

I could tell you I'll treat you right

And never wrong

Tell you in my arms is where you belong

“But I know that you can't change someone

So I'll just leave you alone, although

I wish you liked girls, girls, girls

Wish you liked girls, girls, girls

Girls like me.”

With Kie looking in your eyes as she sang, the lyrics hit you hard.

She did have feelings for you.

Tears began to sting your eyes, and you were overcome with emotion. You dropped Kie’s eyes, grabbing your things and standing up. Unable to stay any longer, you ran out the door, crying as you did.

Inside, up on the stage, Kiara’s heart dropped as she watched you leave. She had no choice but continue to sing.

“I wish you would’ve been more clear

When I was hanging out with you

That women isn't really something

That you've ever been into

'Cause you like boys, boys, boys

'Cause you like boys, boys, boys

And you don't like me.”

Tears began to fall as she sang, blurring her eyes. She just kept strumming, putting everything she had into the last verse and chorus of the song.

“And I know you don't swing that way

But that won't take my feelings away

Oh I wish you liked girls

I wish you liked girls

Like me”

It became harder to sing as sobs caught in her throat, but she pushed through. She was going to make it through this performance. She had to.

“I could be a bitch and tell you a million reasons why

Being with me would be much better than with any other guy

I could tell you I'll treat you right

And never wrong

Tell you in my arms is where you belong

But I know that you can't change someone

So I'll just leave you alone, although

I wish you liked girls, girls, girls

Wish you liked girls, girls, girls

Girls like me”

When the last chord rang out at the end of the song, the crowd erupted in applause and murmurs. Kie choked out a quiet ‘thank you’ in the microphone before running off the stage and outside to you.

She was so so scared that she’d ruined everything.

When she got out there, you on the phone, sniffling as you spoke.

“See you soon. Okay, bye.”

You turned around, and your cheeks immediately went pink when you saw her.

“Hi.” You said softly, not knowing what else to do.

“Who was that on the phone?”

“Hunter.”

Kie’s heart dropped when she heard the name. She recalled your words from when she’d first walked out. ‘See you soon.’ Her heart dropped further.

“Is he coming to pick you up?”

You shook your head, causing a small bit of relief to flood through kiara. “What were you talking to him about?”

You paused for a moment, dropping the eye contact the two of you were making.

“I broke up with him.”

Your friend let out a light gasp, hope entering her mind once again. “Oh.”

You just nodded, looking anywhere but at Kiara.

“May I ask why?”

Your response was simple.

You ran up to her and kissed her.

Finally.

Kiara was taken aback, but kissed back eagerly, so happy this was finally happening.

And when she was kissing you, everything was good.

Maybe changing the song was a good idea after all.

[kpop-uni]

Through the Lens // Six

Christian YuxYoutuber!Reader Words: 3.2K A/N: AN UPDATE? OUT OF THE BLUE? Yes! I’m so sorry I made you guys wait so long but my mental health was just so bad. But I recently started redoing my life, cleaning my room and I’m even taking a well deserved vacation to California next month so I’m doing better! Enough about this though, enjoy the chapter guys!

Chapter Five // Chapter Seven (CS)

A plan formed between the four men. Christian was to go to you, see you at your favorite restaurant and apologize for everything. It was an easy plan that guaranteed the two of you to talk again. But when Christian bought the tickets and packed his things, you let Scott know that you moved cities. So, it was back to square one.

Couple weeks later, Christian finally realized that you unblocked him on social media. 

Christian had woken up to get a drink, phone in his pocket as he sat on the counter, glass cup in hand as he closed his eyes. He was still full of sleep, swaying as sleep tried to take his body away. The vibration from his pocket made him wake up a bit, finishing his drink and hopping off the counter. As he set the cup in the sink, pulling his phone out, Christian woke up, phone almost falling out of his hand.

He waited as the post loaded, trying to blink the sleep away before settling on rubbing his eyes. Finally looking at the loaded post, Christian smiled

ynissamood: I know you guys are excited for the series to be released but I promise that once the project is released and I get the okay, you guys get to enjoy this! Miss you goofballs~ xoxo

The photo was one where you were sitting on a table, Scott directly behind you as he grinned into the camera. Gyungmo had his bucket hat over his eyes and gave a hand gesture as John gave a peace sign next to him, and Cline, as always, looked at the camera with all seriousness. Christian was on your other side, sitting right next to you with his arms crossed as he gave the camera a smile.

Christian started with a simple hello, thinking twice before erasing it and trying again. He stared at his screen, tilting his head as he thought of what was the appropriate ice breaker. As he continued to beat himself up, Christian gave up and wrote what he thought was best and pressed sent.

You looked over at the ping from your phone, seeing an Instagram notification. You barely paid attention as you unlocked your phone, eyes focused on the TV screen in front of you, the movie that was on was too good. But you finally focused on your phone and felt shocked at the message.

You blocked Christian after everything happened between you both, knowing fully well that he wanted nothing to do with you. So of course, it seemed out of the blue that he messaged you with a simple hey, one that you clearly had no way on figuring out what it could mean.

You hesitated on answering, not knowing exactly what to say so you instead opted for a more simple and easier solution: exiting the app and ignoring him.

Christian couldn't sleep for the rest of the night, tossing and turning as he thought about checking his phone. He didn't want to seem too eager, trying his best to make time pass by so he can check the message later but the ticking of the wall clock only made his curiosity grow. Finally, with a snatch, Christian took the phone, seeing no notification and he figured you were busy.

"So instead of thinking that she ignored you, you thought she was busy?"

Gyungmo looked at the simple message that Christian sent, showing in fact that you left him on read. Scott's laughter made Christian look away, trying to hide his embarrassment. "You're too whipped," Gyungmo chuckled, Christian taking his phone back.

"Leave me the hell alone, okay? A guy could hope," Christian rolled his eyes, going back to his laptop and going back to work.

The new album and the music video were done. The release date was set and all that was left was for the gang to post it. And, once again, Christian sent you another message.

You shared the post from the DPR page on your Instagram story, accompanied by the eyes emoji and the clapping hands. You felt bad leave Christian on read the first time, not liking it one bit but you worried that he wanted to start trouble again. So you ignored his second message, only saying hello.

Christian sat on his couch, laptop in front of him and music playing when his phone lit up, showing that you were live.

You laid on your bed, phone resting against your pillows as you laughed at a comment Christian seemed to miss, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You had cut your hair, and freshly dyed it to a dark blue color, complimenting you very well.

"Yeah, I decided it was time for a new change," You gently touched your hair, eyes skimming the comments. "I bought myself new clothes, but then I decided to just take it a step further and changed my hair."

Christian saw a comment from Gyungmo pop up making you smile.

dprcream: new hair? let's match

"Dye your hair blue so I know what we have it real," You giggled, moving your arm to rest your head on it. You continued to read the comments, smiling at some and answering them. Christian bit his lip, getting nervous as he got an idea and began to type sending his message.

dprian: Nice hair!  dprian: Lori misses you. She says hi

You stayed quiet, Christian beginning to think you ignored him before you let out a smile, humming softly. "Tell Lori I miss her much more. I wanna see her again," Christian felt his heart flutter, finally getting a response from you and trying his luck again.

dprian: Come over soon, it's not the same in the building without you

You read the message, your lips curving up into a smile at the comment. Maybe it was for show, hiding the fact that an argument between the two of you happened and for you, it was okay. After all, the fans didn't need to get involved. "I'll try to go soon, but if you guys find yourselves around my parts, let me know."

You answered people's questions and talked about upcoming projects before bidding everyone a good night, blowing kisses right as the live shut off. Christian set his phone down, thinking about the live when his phone pinged, making him look at it. He was surprised to see your name on the Instagram notification, going into the messages to see what you had sent.

ynissamood: Listen, you probably did that as a way for people not to suspect what happened between us and that's okay, but please stop sending me messages. I unblocked you so people wouldn't get the wrong idea. I'm sorry for what happened between us, but this is your fault too.

Christian read the message over and over again before he let out a breath, not able to believe what he read. He knew this was his fault too, and he was trying to fix it but it seemed you didn't want that. And, to be frank, Christian had no one to blame but himself.

"Damn, your fucked up big time," Scott shook his head, giving Christian his phone back.

"So what do I do?" Christian asked, dropping the phone on the table in front of him. "How do I apologize for being an absolute asshole?"

"I mean, by doing it ," Scott shrugged, crossing his arms. "Tell her you're sorry and you want to start over."

Christian knew it was his fault too, and if he had to be honest, he knew that it was only his fault. After all, he couldn't blame you for how you felt, this was all on him. And he wanted to fix it as soon as he could. He wanted to go back to the way you both were, comfortable around each other, laughing and enjoying the company like no one's business. But, he had to cross this bridge in order to get there.

Christian stared at his phone that night, biting his lip and messing around with his hair before going into the messages and sending one over.

dprian: Listen, I'm sorry too. I know what I did was out of line but I want to start over. Can we talk? Like over the phone?

It had been over three days since the message was sent and you haven't even opened the message. It wasn't like you weren't online, because you were, but you just didn't open the message. So, Christian decided that he would let you be for a bit before he tried again.

A couple more days passed, the gang finishing the last bit of touches for the release when Gyungmo noticed the notification of a new video from you. He knew Scott had to have been watching it by now so Gyungmo went off to watch the video.

Scott sat on his chair, watching as you messed with a bag, sighing.

"I don't know how to explain it but it's just... an ugly feeling. Like when you're trying your best to draw something but it doesn't come out like you want it to... kind of like that," You played with the drawstring on the bag a bit more, biting your lip before the video cut. 

It was a brief moment of you looking out the window, shutting it quickly and yelping when the delivery man spotted you. "I hope he's not judging me... I ordered like 5 large fries..."

"I think I'm gonna take a break from social media for a bit..." The video cut right back to you, sitting at the end of your bed. Legs now crossed as you gave the camera a soft smile. "I'll still post the series and give you guys a heads up but that's about it for me. I just want to take a breather," With one final wave and with a kiss, the video went black.

You smiled at the text from Scott that came in, giving him a call and hearing it ring before his voice was heard. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

You giggle a bit, taking a seat on your bed. "I'm okay, I just need a break from social media, don't worry much about me."

"Hey, have you heard from y/n?" Gyungmo walked into Scott's studio, Scott flinching a bit from being startled. You laughed as you heard the two argue, Scott trying to explain to him that you were fine while Gyungmo tried to take the phone.

"Do you need me to go over? I'll go right now," Gyungmo laughed as he heard your laughter.

He was about to grab the phone when Scott yanked it away, laughing. You laid on your bed, feeling better when another voice caught your attention. You could hear Christian ask what was going on, Scott answering.

"Hey, we'll call you back, okay?" You knew Gyungmo was doing this for you, knowing that you didn't want to talk to Christian but you let out a breath.

You had to face him one day, and this seemed like a better time, even though you preferred much later. So, as you sat up in bed, you took in a breath, shaking your head. "Lemme talk to him, please?"

"You sure?" Gyungmo turned to Christian who gave him a curious look, Gyungmo hearing you assure him. With some hesitation, Gyungmo handed the phone over to Christian, who stared at it for a bit before taking it.

"Hello?"

You stayed quiet for a bit, biting your tongue before gulping your nerves. "Hey, it's me,"

Christian froze at your voice, looking at Gyungmo and Scott who watched him. Christian hummed, walking out of the room and heading to his studio, and closing the door behind him, locking it in case that Scott or Gyungmo tried to go after him. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I just need a break from social media... It's getting to be too much," You played with the end of you hair, letting your hand fall to your bed. "How have you been?"

"You know, working and all that," Christian sat on his chair, listening to a bit of rustling on your side.

It was quiet between the two of you, and awkward silence filing you the air. "I'm sorry for being an asshole, I was just mad at you,"

"No, it's okay... I didn't know you had a girlfriend and honestly I was an asshole about it too since I was so hurt about it..." You confessed, hands gripping your shirt.

"Chaeyoung isn't my girlfriend, well, she was never my girlfriend." Your eyebrows furrowed, staying quiet to hear him correctly. "I mean- yeah I dated her, but really it was only for the fact that I wanted to make you jealous. I thought you and Scott were dating." Christian's voice got low, letting you process his confession.

"Wait, you thought that Scott and I...?"

"Yeah, so..." Christian sighed, letting his head fall to his free hand. "I knew Chaeyoung liked me and I used her to get back at you. I figured that eventually I'd forget about you and return the feelings for Chaeyoung but I never did." Christian could hear your breathing, but other than that, it was nothing but silence. "Listen, I'm sorry and I know I was an asshole about it..." Christian trailed off, hearing you giggle before your laughter.

"Wow... and here I thought you were mad at me for kissing you when you had a girlfriend... you really are an asshole,"

Christian let out a breath, laughing along and shaking his head, feeling the weight of anxiety leave him. "I'm so sorry,"

"It's fine, but please tell me Chaeyoung knows and you're still not leading her on or I'll kick you ass,"

"No, she knows. She broke up with me that day in the studio," Christian laughed, his hand moving from covering his face to holding his chin. "I really like you, I still do,"

Your laughter died down, butterflies in your stomach erupting as you whined into the phone. "Don't start acting cute just because we confessed to each other, I'm still mad at you and I'm still going to ignore you,"

Christian couldn't help the laugh that came up and nodded, leaning back into his chair. "Fine, fine... I have to go but I'll text you later?"

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head but smiling. "You better," 

With much anticipation, the album was released and all that was left was your project. You logged into Instagram and quickly uploaded a clip of the first part.

The video was just a black screen, a bit of rustling before you spoke. "So, what inspires you?" There was more rustling and mindless piano playing before Gyungmo began talking.

"Inspiration comes from everywhere,"

The video was posted with the caption of a date, fans immediately excited and you logged back out of Instagram, going back to your task of cooking. You heard the ping of your phone and you finished chopping the vegetables before checking it.

Ian 12:31 PM: You tease Ian 12:31 PM: Of course you would post a black screen with just audio

You laughed at the text, hitting the call button and waiting as the call rang, placing it on speaker. Hearing Christian answer, a quick hello filling the kitchen.

“You busy?”

“For you? Never.” Christian leaned back into his chair, ignoring his task of editing his new project and focusing fully on you.

You began cooking the vegetables for the food, bringing the phone closer. “I need to talk to you about the upcoming part of the video, the last time we talked about it you were a bit of an-“

“Yeah I know,” Christian laughed, cutting you off. “I trust you, plus you made plenty of notes on what to hide and all that.” You smiled, butterflies appearing at how Christian remembered how you made notes for every piece of video you recorded.

“You sure? I can send it when I finish so you can look over it.”

“No, I trust you.”

The conversation continued as you cooked and Christian clicked around his computer. You pouted when he didn’t tell you about his project, dramatically sighing and complaining before laughing as Christian mocked you.

"Just know that it's something I haven't done in a real long time." Christian laughed at your groan, knowing you were never going to guess about him recording his own song.

“Hey, can I say something?" You set your plate down on the kitchen table, transferring the bit of leftovers to a bowl which you knew it was bound to get eaten when your friend arrived.

"Sure," Christian had picked up his task during the call, only clicking around, doing small things that didn't need his full attention. But he stopped working on his project, waiting for you as you continued. He heard the bit of shuffling on your end, knowing fully well that you were hesitating on saying something.

"I'm sorry, about everything. I'm sorry I treated you and Chaeyoung so bad, and I know that you're going to say that it wasn't my fault but I shouldn't have done that to her. She's a nice girl and I feel really bad. But it hurt really bad and I didn't know how to deal with that pain."

Christian was at a lost for words, his brain running a mile minute as he processed your words. He knew how nice you were, but it never occurred to him how you must have felt being so cold toward him and Chaeyoung. And yeah, it wasn't intentional, but still, he knew you must have felt so bad.

"Christian-"

"God I love you,"

It took Christian exactly six seconds to fully understand what had just happened. You were frozen in place, the confession being so sudden and almost uncalled for.

"Oh shit, shit, wait. Please I didn't- I mean I did but... fuck I'm so sorry-" With a click, the line was cut, and like that, Christian's panicked. He called you again and again, the line ringing until voicemail was hit. Finally, on the fifth call, there was no ringing, voicemail answered right away.

With desperation, Christian rushed out of his studio and into Scott's. With no sign of anyone, Christian rushed downstairs only to crash into Cline. "What are you doing?" Cline practically screamed as Christian began to pat him down. Cline tried backing away until Christian pinned him down, taking Cline's phone out of his pocket. 

"Unlock it! Hurry up!" Cline, now scared, took the phone back and unlocked it with shaky hands. Christian yanked the phone out of Cline's hands, searching up your name and calling you. 

The phone rang a few times before it stopped mid-ring. "Cline, can I call you back?"

"Please, listen to me-"

"Christian, just... I need to think,"

You were shocked, confused but definitely not expecting that. I mean, yeah, you expected that, but not this soon. You wanted time to think and time to build what you had with Christian. 

So there you stood, staring at the kitchen counter as Christian's words bouncing around in your head. When you snapped back, you looked at your phone, seeing missed calls from Christian. Your phone froze for a second when Cline's call came in, making you sigh. 

At the sound of Christian's voice though, your eyes widened. 

"Please, just..." Christian was lost for words, the silence on your end making his mind run fast with endless amounts of scenarios on how wrong this was all going. “I’m sorry, I know we’re starting over but-”

"Ian..." The sound of the name you called him made Christian stop talking, freezing to hear you say it again. "It's fine. It was sudden but... This is moving too fast. Just... let me breathe."

And with a final click, the dial tone replaced your voice.

[into-the-stratosphere]

Sweeney Todd: Revisted

Lol I can’t post this on any of my other socials just yet because the official cast list hasn’t been posted, but my tumblr isn’t linked to my Instagram or Facebook or anything like that, so I felt I could safely post here without getting in trouble. Warning now that this is a LONG post because I overwrite a lot lol

If you’ve been following me a while, you might remember last spring I was supposed to be in a production of Sweeney Todd as a soloist/ensemble member. We got through about a month and a half of rehearsals before everything was shut down by Covid, but the company kept promising we would do the show once everything opened up again, just a little while longer and we’ll do it, we’re pushing for October instead of May, this is going to happen. Honestly, once we hit the school year and no updates had come, I thought this would have to be a show I shelved until an entirely new production came up- until April this year we got an email asking who was still interested in returning.

Somehow we had gotten approval to move forward with the show again after all, and we were being moved to a larger space to accommodate a larger audience to boot! But with the new dates and location, naturally some cast members had to step down from their roles due to conflicts. In fact, pretty much the entire main cast had to step down; our Sweeney had moved in October, our Beggar Woman wasn’t comfortable coming back to live theatre just yet, Mrs Lovett would be on her honeymoon during the new show dates, our main Johanna would be working a new job further away, a lot of our younger cast was going to college out of state, like our Anthony and I believe both Toby’s.

In the initial email we were told that if we were willing to return, we could keep our roles and not have to reaudition, but as roles opened up we were also given the option to audition for the new openings. Our understudy Johanna was returning, so I figured they would bump her up into the main role, and I hoped I could squeeze in and maybe get the understudy spot this year, since last year I hadn’t made the cut for Johanna at all. I picked my music (Soon from A Little Night Music if anyone was wondering) and my monologue (fairly certain they wanted monologues just to hear that we could do accents because the audition listing said they preferred we did our monologue in accent), and set to preparing again to hopefully have a shot at Johanna this year.

A friend I met doing virtual shows was also auditioning, and when she mentioned she heard the new director didn’t want to have any understudies for the main cast, I grew worried, remembering our understudy Johanna said she was returning. Since I didn’t know how the director would go about distributing promised roles regarding understudy positions, I continued to prepare to the best of my ability with the slim hope I might get Johanna, but that hope was fading with the knowledge of the former understudy’s return.

A few days before the audition however, she posted in our private group that she too would have to step down, as she had just gotten accepted into her dream school and would be out of state during the production’s run. Suddenly the grey area barring me from Johanna dissipated, and all I had to worry for now was the new auditioning pool- this was one of the first in person shows to open in our area since the lockdown, so there was bound to be a lot of new faces trying to get back into the game.

I went in on Sunday feeling far more prepared than I did last year (I almost didn’t audition last year because I had only just gotten my voice back from a horrible flu strain), and funnily enough, my friend I had met doing virtual shows had signed up for the same time bracket as me without either of us knowing. Entering the audition room, I immediately felt good; everyone had such a welcoming atmosphere, the director was friendly as could be, but I could also tell he was very professional. I performed the best I could, waited for my friend to finish her audition afterwards, then we went to go talk and catch up while desperately waiting to possibly get a callback.

We chatted for hours about theatre, our virtual theatre group, life, all while keeping a vigilant eye on the time for when that day’s auditions would end and calls would be made. Eventually we both decided to go home, wishing each other the best and hoping to see each other again at callbacks.

I was only halfway home when my phone rang; they loved my audition and wanted me to come in on Tuesday to read for Johanna at callbacks. I was so excited that I started crying behind the wheel, and from the way my phone was blowing up with messages from my friend, I knew she had gotten a callback as well.

Luckily they asked me to prepare Green Finch and Linnet Bird for the callback, because I have known the song for about two years now- I had put it in my audition book about a month before my Sydney trip in 2019, and the hope to perform it in the original production had been the reason I auditioned in 2020 in the first place. I found out there was two other girls they were looking at for Johanna, so I worried day and night that what if they already knew the song too, what if their resumes were better than mine, what if I cracked, what if, what if, what if…

Tuesday came and I could only hope I’d get another burst of energy after a long day at work. I showed up about forty five minutes early (the drive usually took about half an hour, but the traffic had been forgiving), hearing snippets of the Anthony’s and Beggar Woman’s upstairs, and then the first of the other two Johanna’s showed up. She was so nice, and with time the second Johanna showed up. We all chatted as the Sweeney’s, and Beggar Woman’s came down, and soon enough, they were calling the Johanna’s to head upstairs.

The Anthony’s were still upstairs when we got there, certainly so we could read our audition scenes together. The director explained we’d be singing our song first (ALL of Green Finch, since there’s no good natural spot to stop in the song), and then taking turns reading with both Anthony’s. Since I volunteered to go first, the director said he’d let me go a second time after the other two girls, that way I could adjust any slip ups since I was basically test running the sound and space for the other two girls. The speaker was as loud as it could go, but once I started singing I quickly realized that I drowned out the music and couldn’t hear my accompaniment anymore, so I relied on my muscle memory of the flow of the song and my internal meter to get me through to the end. I only messed up on the trill before the final verse, it was so much longer than I anticipated, but I knew I’d be able to fix that after hearing the other two girls. Turns out the other two had only started looking at the song once they got called back, so I had an edge on having it memorized, but once I heard their voices I grew worried because they both had such beautiful tones, trying to react quickly to when they missed something in the music. I went through my second time, correcting my mistake with the trill (which all three of us made the same mistake there) and tweaking a few small things to my blocking, and then we were given a scene to read with the Anthony’s.

We would all get a turn with both Anthony’s to get a sense of chemistry, as well so we could all make adjustments (the director reminded us the context of the scene we were reading after we all finished with the first Anthony, and guided us on a better direction to what Johanna would be feeling in that moment for our second time through). I felt I really connected well with both Anthony’s, familiar with the scene and story so I wouldn’t have to be buried in my lines. It was during our read-throughs that I realized the other two Johanna’s were likely a few years older than me based on how they played her; more mature, more sure of themselves. I finished my second read-through, hopefully keeping to the context of the scene better than my first run-through, and we were all told that we could head home, that we’d be hearing from them in a day or two regarding final casting. Before I hit the door, the director paused me, asking if I still had my original script from the prior production. Heart pounding at the implications his question could be loaded with, I told them I did, and in fact I had it with me. “It felt like good luck to bring it,” I said, and they all laughed with me at lugging around a four hundred page script for luck.

When we got downstairs, the Johanna I was particularly worried about asked me if I studied opera, which I admitted I did have an associates degree for music. We all talked a while longer before they all headed out, and I sought my friend in the lobby to confide in her; I think I’ve got Johanna.

After talking with her a bit about our auditions, explaining how I thought I had an edge, I headed home, hardly able to sleep as I picked my audition apart in my head and awaited some kind of phone call.

The next day at work I jumped every time my phone buzzed, waiting to see if it was a call. When I was upstairs heating up my lunch, my friend asked if I had heard anything yet, mentioning how she and our Judge thought the director would start making calls after work. I assented- it made sense, plus it’s so much better to actually be able to receive the call than to come back to a voicemail about your casting.

As I waited in the hall for someone, my phone started buzzing with a call, and my heart rate shot up. It was still so early in the afternoon, not quite 3:30, and with everything I had knew was good about my audition, I allowed myself a flicker of hope. I knew I had a few minutes, so I quickly answered- and there was our director on the other side.

“Hi, is this Shelby? This is (director), from Sweeney Todd.” I responded back, asking how he was, trying not to lose my nerve. “I’m great, thanks for asking. We’re just starting to call everyone about casting, and we were just so impressed with your auditions, your first and your callback; we were interested if you’d be willing to accept the role of Johanna?”

I was trying not to cry on the phone as I excitedly responded YES, I would LOVE to play Johanna- I had wanted to play Johanna for a year and a half at this point, and here was my moment at last. After a few more logistical questions, he bid me a good day and hung up to call the rest of the main cast. I was just bubbling over with excitement, the first thing I did was message my friend that I’d gotten Johanna- she had found out the night before that she was going to be the Beggar Woman since she stayed late at callbacks to discuss a miscommunication with the director (she was accidentally twenty minutes late because her email had the wrong callback time listed, and when the director was made aware, she asked if she could sing again, and he said “we don’t need you to, we saw all we needed your first time through- you ARE the Beggar Woman”), then I messaged our Judge Turpin, who was one of the other few returning cast members.

My coworkers were all so excited for me, asking me when the show was going to be, that they’d all make a group to go see it together. When I got home, I tricked my parents into thinking I was still nervous about casting, saying “I don’t know, I’m just nervous… I mean, my first kiss is going to be on stage.” And when it clicked that I had gotten the part, my mom screamed and my dad laughed at my mischievousness at tricking both of them, congratulating me.

I’m still waiting on the go-ahead so I can post about this on my main socials, but I’ve just been so excited that I had to find a way to post it secretly somewhere, just so I wouldn’t burst at the seams holding this in. Our first rehearsal is in August, so my rehearsal stories series will be returning once those start (I theorized there’s a gap between auditions and first rehearsals because the cast has to be vaccinated for legal reasons, so the handful that aren’t can have time to get their vaccines).

For now, I get to wonder who my other fellow cast mates are, who my Anthony will be. Until then, if I cannot fly, let me sing 🕊 -Johanna (Shelby)

[bookfast-at-tiffanys]

Right hello again. It’s me back with a serious post. Like I said, I don’t usually do these but I want to address this quickly and with no hate towards anyone. Also just so everyone knows, I’m not trying to target anyone specific it’s really just the whole TSC fandom.

So. We all need to sit and have a chat. The TSC fandom is OUT OF CONTROL. I’m serious ok? It’s out of the control. When I came to Tumblr thinking yay a way to enjoy fandoms and make friends, I didn’t expect to be witnessing ship wars and fights and arguments on every corner I turned to. I’m sure a lot of people agree to be honest.

So many big fandoms can control their issues, but the TSC fandom? No, it’s unheard of, uncalled for, unseen. Some of you, in my opinion, are just looking to fight over anything. Be it a ship, a character, ANYTHING. Yes, there are issues, and yes they should be addressed, but not like this! Not in a way where people don’t want to come to Tumblr anymore because it’s just fighting and ship wars.

Some of you are really turning the TSC part of Tumblr into TikTok and Instagram. When you go to Instagram what do you see? Fights and arguments. What do you see when you go to TikTok? Horrible comments and arguments. That’s what the TSC fandom has become. Just think for a second. That’s not ok.

There’s been a big rise in hate anons and ship wars. Let me just say, hate anons ARE NOT OK. They never have been, never will be. It’s cowardice and just horrible. Why bring someone’s day down? And why do it with a mask on?

A second thing is the ship wars. They are NOT OK. You can ship whatever you want (as long as it isn’t incest, pedophilia etc) and no one is allowed to judge you for it. No one can stop you. But why do some of you feel the absolute, unsatisfied need to projectile dump your feelings about a ship, onto someone else? It’s not funny, it’s not clever. It’s just petty. Another thing, bashing and belittling another ship to make yours seem better is NOT THE WAY TO GO. AT ALL. Don’t do it. (For example: the Thomstair vs Arianna ship war. Some of you belittled Thomstair by saying hOw diD yOu gUyS sEe tHe loVe?? and some of you belittled Arianna. That is NOT ok. Why can’t we just enjoy what we’ve been given and agree that both ships have little page time? Why can’t we all stand together? Side note - I’m not blaming either party here you were both in the wrong). For some people, ships are very important to them so you can’t go around bashing other ships because it can really hurt some people’s feelings. It’s not right. Some of you definitely need to pull up your big people pants and start respecting people and discussing things properly and kindly or just not discussing them at all. Key word here: DISCUSS. Not yell, not bash, not argue, not fight. DISCUSS.

Another thing. Some people just come here to complain. I understand that the lack of WLW relationships is wrong and the treatment of POC characters is wrong. I really do understand that. But if you want a WLW main ship, why don’t you read a book with a WLW main ship? Those do exist. I know they’re in the minority but they do exist. So instead of complaining and complaining, why don’t you find a book with a WLW main ship so you can feel repsresented, but also stay in the TSC fandom if you enjoy the stories or certain characters? I’ll give you some example WLW main ship books: Huntress, Annie on my Mind, Ash, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, A Line in the Dark, You Should See Me In A Crown. Those are a few I know of, sorry if they’re not your type of book. Anyway, so before any of you come at me and say wHaT WLW mAiN sHiP bOoKs? I’ve given you some examples. I know WLW is very much a minority in books and that should be addressed but please can people stop complaining and complaining about it. I understand that it’s a pain when in a book series you love, you can barely relate, but there’s so many books out there that you can relate to! It just gets overwhelming to see post after post after post shipping non cannon WLW ships to a point where it’s just kind is strange? (Eg Tessa x Jessamine - Jessamine liked her brother?). Honestly, I don’t mind people shipping the ships they love but please don’t force the opinion onto others. I’ve seen that when someone says something like what I’ve said, people jump down their throats and accuse them of not liking WLW. I like girls as well ok? So please don’t come at me.

Honestly just why do some of you feel the need to fight and argue and complain? Why can’t you use Tumblr for what it was intended for? A platform for fandoms and fun. Not a war site for animosity and hate towards others. I honestly feel like a parent having to put some of you in line, with this post. I hate doing this but someone had to say it. Sorry if I’ve offended anyone on my rant but the TSC fandom is out of control, and Tumblr just isn’t the same anymore. It’s not fun and it makes people scared to go into the fandom. It’s at the point now where I come onto Tumblr and straight away just think, ‘What ship war is it today?’ or Whatever argument is it today?’.

Please don’t make the TSC fandom toxic and a horrible space to be in - if you are going to argue with someone, just a take a moment and think ‘Is it worth it? Is it worth creating all this tension and animosity and upset?’ I think you’ll find the answer is no.

Thank you for listening and reading through the whole thing (if you did). It’s a long post I know, and I’m sorry. I’m just sick of the TSC fandom turning into Instagram and Tiktok, what with all the wars and arguments.

[innittowinit]

Tommyinnit is going to be okay

summary: With lockdown, expectations and grades constantly seeming to be lower than desired, Tommy starts to give up on school. Luckily he has his makeshift family to help him out.

word count: 1778

notes: hhh im super sorry to those of you who were waiting for me to finish the next chapter to my amusement park fic, i was working on it but i'm feeling kinda :/ so i wrote this instead to get da feelings out. Updates should be back to normal next friday. also my birthday is soon!!! 22nd pog!!!!!!!!!! i'm gonna be 16 and i am :D about that

AO3

If you asked him, he’d say he didn’t care. He’d joke about how bad he was doing, call himself stupid, play into the grades and act like they were all he was capable of.  

Truth is, he knew he could be better, he knew he was expected to be better, so when he was given his report card and saw that he was scoring mediocre in most subject and even failing a few, he swallowed the lump in his throat and laughed, telling his friends that he didn’t know what he expected.

School was tough but he was expected to be tougher, when he had pages upon pages of chemistry homework so hard that  it made him cry, he didn’t tell anyone because that wasn’t what was expected of him. He stayed up for nights on end just trying to grasp at a passing grade but most of the time was spent panicking anyway, so why was anyone surprised when he started to give up?

When he stopped handing in assignments, when he stopped revising, when he stopped turning up to class, why were they all so surprised? They had watched his downfall with front row seats and now were gasping as they saw him drowning in the pool they put him in without teaching him to swim.

So here he was, locked in his bedroom, the shadows of the overly optimistic boy he painted himself as lingered as he looked around. It made him sick to his stomach, to lie to everyone like that. He knew for a fact if anyone from school watched his content they’d know he was lying. It was hard to differentiate himself sometimes, from the boy who just wanted to make his parents proud to the boy who roleplayed on minecraft servers. Now don’t get me wrong, they were both very much him, he just wished he could let his followers know that he wasn’t that happy all the time. It was only when he wasn’t being suffocated by his own academic failures.

Giving up was a stupid idea, it only made his grades worse but he justified it by saying that at least he was failing on purpose now. There could be no disappointment or shame if he didn’t try, if he told everyone that he just didn't care about grades and he could get better ones if he wanted he would be so much less pathetic than if he said that he had put in everything and still done badly. It didn’t work though, he was self-sabotaging. With every failing grade his self esteem fell further and further until he was sure it was gone completely. He didn’t feel stupid, he just felt like everyone else was smarter than him. He thought that maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could get himself out of this funk, but then again that required showing people that he was working hard and if he still failed after that he was sure he’d feel far worse than he already did.

Talking about this to someone was out of the picture too. Aside from the fact that he’d rather eat a live slug than make someone worry about him, he knew he’d just seem lazy and pathetic if he brought it up to anyone anyway. He just didn’t know how to explain that he’d got so overwhelmed that it broke him, it felt like his whole life he wished that people would stop overestimating him.

He just wasn’t good enough.

A knock on his bedroom door brought him out of his self-deprecating spiral, causing him to only curl in on himself, under the blankets, even further. No doubt it was his parents here to nag him about school again.

“Go away mum I don’t care! It doesn’t even matter” he huffed as he pulled his phone out,with the intention to ignore his family through looking at instagram.

“Tommy it’s not your mum” He heard a man’s voice speak from behind the door. “Look it’s me, Wilbur, Phil and Techno are here too. Your parents said you’ve been feeling pretty down lately so we just wanted to hang out. If talking is too much we can just play a game”

Silence.

Tommy took a moment to mull the words over, it stung that his parents had told them about what was going on but he could help but feel a little special that they had traveled so far to come cheer up him specifically. Especially Techno, he wasn’t sure if he should feel honoured or guilty that he had to fly out, deciding that both was probably the best option, he made a metal note to pay him back for the plane ticket.  

“Listen Tommy” He heard another man’s voice as he silently walked towards the door “It’ll be okay in the end, I don’t know what you’re going through right now, and you only need to tell us if you want to, but I promise it’ll be okay. Life has a way of making things fit into place in the end”

Biting his lip,Tommy twisted the key to the left, taking a deep breath before opening the door. He knew he looked terrible, his hair was greasy and all over the place, he had a pepsi stain on the shirt he had been wearing for three days straight, and he knew for a fact he smelled unpleasant. Despite all these less than ideal features, the three men all gave him a hug as soon as they saw him.   Each one of them had sincere smiles on their faces, they didn’t look like they were here to pity him at least.

Still without saying a word, Tommy stepped to the side to invite them into his messy room, before going to sit on his bed again. Coke and Pepsi cans were overflowing from his bin and he knew the plates of half eaten dinners were starting to smell, still though, they weren’t judging him. Techno and Phil sat either side of him and Wilbur sprawled himself out at the foot of the bed, as much as he wanted to keep up the silence and grumpiness, he couldn’t help but gasp a little, feeling his throat go tight and his eyes heat up with fresh tears, when Techno wrapped an arm around him.

How long had it been since he was hugged like this? It wasn’t like the greeting hug he had just gotten, it was so much more sincere and heartfelt. A ghost of a smile hinted at his lips.

As more silent tears dripped down his cheek, Techno rubbing his arm soothingly, he finally realised that he just wanted someone to genuinely care about him. He didn’t mind high expectations if they came from a good place; whenever Wilbur spoke about how Tommy would be so much bigger than he already was, he didn’t feel pressured, he felt motivated. He knew Wilbur genuinely believed in him and more importantly would still care about him if he didn’t live up to what he expected, in contrast to his parents who he honestly wasn’t sure if he had unconditional love from or not.

That’s what the problem was. Finally, he had Techno, Phil and Wil all here because they loved him, and he knew they wouldn’t judge him. They wouldn’t hate him for failing an exam, they wouldn’t mock him for getting overwhelmed, they certainly would love him no matter how bad he messed up.

Right in that moment, he stopped caring about whether or not he’d make people worry, he stopped caring about any possibly negative opinions of him because he knew he was safe, and he leant his head against Techno’s shoulder, crying out all the stress and insecurities that had lead to his spiral in the first place. It wasn't long before Phil joined in, wrapping an arm around him from the other side, and then came Wilbur, who was practically laying against all three of them as he tried to hug him from where he had been sat.

“It’s a lot of work and it’s a lot of expectations…..y’know I’m just not smart enough to live up to what they want me to do”

The blonde choked out his words, it felt great not to have to hold back his feelings for once, to finally have people who would listen. Really though, they had been there all along, his judgement had just been too clouded that he hadn’t realised.

“Listen Toms”

He heard Phil sigh sympathetically,

“You’re a smart boy, if school is making you feel like this, maybe the way you’re learning is the problem, I know it’s super generic advice but if you can find a teacher you trust you should be able to talk about what alternatives there are. As for expectations, fuck ‘em. You’re doing your own thing and you’re doing it well. You’ve already surpassed everyone's expectations.”

He felt Phil move over so Wilbur could sit with them properly, with pretty much 4 men all sitting on the same section of the bed, it was a squish but they made it work.

“Tommy man, I was a massive nerd in school. I was such a perfectionist that I’d panic about any grade lower than like 95%, I didn’t even have any expectations I was trying to live up to, I just wanted to be the best at everything. Anyway I’ve had more ruts like what you’re going through than I can count so I’m speaking from experience when I say, I promise you it’s gonna be fine. Tommy you’ll be okay”

Tommy didn’t bother replying, he was too choked up from the sheer vulnerability and love that he didn’t want to open his mouth and risk any noise coming out.  

“Big T,” Wilbur chuckled as he practically climbed over Phil to see him properly, “I failed half my GCSE’s and I’m doing great. Try your hardest but if things go tits up just know that you’re life won't just be over”

Tommy just nodded, wiping at his eyes as he leant his head against Techno. For the first time in a long time he felt loved.  

“We actually had a plan.” Wilbur had taken Phil’s spot, on the bed, completely now, and the man was left to crouch next to it. “We’ll clean up in here while you go take a shower and then we can watch Up. We made Techno bring some of those American sweets over and we also got a load from Tesco on our way here. How’s that sound?”

Again, Tommy nodded his head. He was going to be okay.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Brian Zvonecek x Reader Wake Up

Written by: @anotheronechicagobog​

Warnings: Swearing, childbirth (from both animals and people), mention of miscarriage, mention of infertility, mention of fear and insecurities about not being able to get pregnant, it’s really not as angsty as it sounds I’m just being careful, fake Instagram post at the end

“You’re the only one I wanna wake up to”

“Well, we’ve been married for seven years so I should hope so.”

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“I do.”

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After Brian went to work you dropped your daughter Sasha off at school before heading to work yourself. You weren’t a first responder, you were a doctor technically, but not one for humans. You work at the aquarium as a veterinarian. It was an interesting job, you were always up doing something interesting. For example, as you were performing an ultrasound on a guitar shark, all that you could think about was how your mom had wanted you to be an accountant. “And there’s the heartbeat, there is at least one pup in there. I’d like to check again in a month or so, there hasn’t been a lot of research done on these guys so I don’t know how long gestation will be, or even how many pups she’ll have in total. Let’s get her back in the exhibit, I’ll set up another appointment. And her handlers? That’s you- and you? Okay great, we’ll need to up her allotted food. I think just straight up doubling would be best, if that seems like too much you can dial it back, and if it seems like too much page me, got it? Good.”

You still smelled like seawater and blubber when you got home to a tea party in your living room. The sight of four massive firefighters wearing tutus and costume jewellery all while crammed into tiny chairs at a tiny table always made your day. “Hey guys, mind if I steal a lemon square?”

“Mommy you’re home!” Sasha tackled you as well as a five-year-old could. “Is Halo pregnant? Is she?”

“Yes, she is. There is at least one baby on the way. There are probably more though because...?”

“Guitarfish in the wild have six babies on aberage!”

“That’s right! Look at you, getting so smart!”

“Yeah, soon you’ll be smarter than me.”

“She’s already smarter than you, Brian.”

“Hey!”

“That’s not nice uncle Sevy. No more cookies for you.��� Kelly looked genuinely hurt at the punishment Sahsa had dolled out on him. “But they’re chocolate chip. Chocolate chip is my favourite.”

“Then you shouldn’t have been mean to daddy.”

“I’m gonna go shower, you guys continue with your tea party.” You left with a wink and a kiss on Sasha’s forehead. Brian got this soft look in his eyes as he regarded the two of you, and in the back of your mind you weren’t surprised. He’d never been shy about wanting two or three kids, you’d just been delaying it a bit because of how labour intensive your work was. And there was the added danger of what could happen to a fetus under lots of water pressure when you went diving into the large, and deep, exhibits. But you didn’t want to put off the discussion any longer, if you were being honest, you wanted more kids too, and there was already going to be quite the age gap between Sasha and any future sibling(s). You thought about how to bring up your points, your concerns as you stepped out of the shower into the steam-filled bathroom. Ultimately, Brian could not and would not force you to have another child. If you didn’t want another, he would leave it at that because he understood where most of the labour in the reproductive system lay.

Kelly, Matt, and Joe were still in your living room hanging onto Sasha’s every word. Every few seconds Sasha would slap on of Kelly’s hands away from where it was creeping towards the cookie plate. You spotted Brian in the kitchen, prepping a roast pan of potatoes, carrots, and sausages for dinner. You slinked up to his side and kissed his cheek. “Mhmm, you don’t smell like whale anymore.” 

“Gee, thanks. What a way to make your wife feel special.”

“I’ll just put this in the oven and then dinner should be ready in forty-five minutes. Why don’t you join the princesses and I’ll set the table.”

“How about I set the table, you finish cooking dinner, and then we leave the princesses alone for a minute and we have a talk in private?”

“Am I in trouble?”

“No.”

“Then sure.”

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

You two had stepped into the guest room, Brian slightly confused. “Is everything okay? And why are we talking in the guest room instead of hours?”

“How would you feel about turning this room into a nursery- I’m not pregnant, but what if we started trying to have another kid?”

“I- are you sure? I mean, I know with work-”

“Brian, I want another kid. Truthfully, I’ve felt bad putting it off this long, creating such an age gap.”

“Hey, you were doing important research that revolutionized-”

“I know, Brian. I don’t regret it, I’ve just felt bad. I see how some of the Hermann Horde are closer than others and a lot of it is due to age. They’re at different stages in their life so they never get the chance to have the same interests or go through things together the same way.”

“You’re thinking about it the wrong way. Sasha will be able to advise them on so many things in ways we just can’t. And she’ll be the cool older sister because she’ll know different things and have different freedoms. They won’t fight as often because they probably won’t like the same toys or clothes, Sasha will teach them how to deal with us, I mean they might not be close at first, but they’ll have such a great relationship when they get older.”

“Sasha is going to be amazing big sister.”

“Without a doubt.”

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It had been ten months. You still weren’t pregnant. Honestly, it was stressing you out. What if you couldn’t get pregnant now? What if you waited too long and some problem popped up and now it was too late? You could tell it was wearing on Brian, too. “Mom? Are you okay? You and dad seem... Off lately.”

“Oh, yeah, we’re both okay, don’t worry honey.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Sasha didn’t look convinced as she walked into her school, but you let it be. You took a moment to ground yourself in your car before driving to work. You loved your job, absolutely loved it, but diving was your favourite part and you couldn’t do that while trying for a baby. Once you said you were taking a break from it all your co-workers immediately assumed you were pregnant again. You’d gone from joyful suggestive looks and hugs to pitiful glances and concerned pats on the shoulder. It was grating on your nerves and insecurities. 

Today Melody, a harbour seal, was predicted to give birth. Everyone was on edge. Sometimes these things happened on schedule, sometimes they didn’t. But regardless you remained solely on-call for the perky seal. And while desperately hated to admit it, you were jealous. Of a seal. Who gets jealous of a seal? What kind of person did that make you?

You were brought out of your reverie when Melody plopped her head in your lap. Her eyes soulful. Worried. Was the labour starting? You did another check, and she was. You yelled for your assistants.

Poor Melody, she was in pain, and you could tell she was nervous. This would be her first pup, and even mothers got nervous about their first borns, you supposed. You made sure to stroke her head when you could. “Don’t worry Melody, everything will be okay.” The birth had gone smoothly, Melody and her currently unnamed pup were doing well when pain ripped through you. It was as it someone took and electron pole and buried it in your abdomen. You screamed and fell to the ground. The pain you incurred from hitting your hip and your head on the ground were nothing in comparison to what was going on further down. Oh no, what if I am pregnant and I’m having a miscarriage? The pain stopped but only for brief moments and the only time you could remember feeling anything close to as bad as this was minutes before giving birth to Sasha.

Everything was a blur of distressed seal noises, salt water, splashing, screaming, and sirens. You came back when Dr. Manning gave you you’re diagnosis. “That’s- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- not- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

“It’s called a ‘cryptic pregnancy’. I know it doesn’t feel real because you didn’t go through a normal pregnancy, but you are in labour. Don’t worry, Maggie’s called 51, Brian is on his way.”

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“Y/N! I’m here- what’s going on?!”

“So- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH- as it turns out I’m pregnant.”

“Actually she’s in labour.” Doris bluntly spat at Brian, she raised her eyebrows and pulled her lips into a line, all of which conveyed just how much she was judging you poorly at the moment, the next bucket full of gossip for MED churning in her head.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YOU KNOW WHAT DORIS, MOST WOMEN HAVE NINE MONTHS TO PREPARE FOR GIVING BIRTH AND I’VE HAD LESS THAN AN HOUR SO SHUT THE FUCK UP, GET OUT, AND STAY OUT! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” You honestly felt like you were dying, and the absolute last thing you needed was a catty, gossipy nurse making an already life altering and stressful moment more so. She quickly bolted out of the room, April taking her place. She was quiet, subdued, clearly thinking of her failed attempts at getting pregnant. And while you felt awful for her, you were immensely grateful for a nurse that wasn’t Doris. “I’m right here, honey.”

“You smell like smoke.”

“You smell like fish.” Him in his turnout pants and you in a put up wetsuit, you really did make a pair.

“Touche- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Squeeze my hand.”

“I’ll probably break it.”

“I’m yours to break.”

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