#i dont even think they offer sake as a part of the happy hour deal man fuck this house WHATEVER

[todayisafridaynight]

i be so normal and then someone post arakawa on my tl <- frothing at the mouth and just might turn into a werewolf

[bambinotattoo]

Little Mr. Crinkle Butt Eric

Chapter 1

2003: Baby Eric was 4/5

As many of us grow older we lose those fragments of memories from our early years, just a part of life unfortunately. And, I think, we all have snippets to roll through our mental Rolodex. For Eric, one memory has always stood out…climbing his changing table to get diapered for bed!

Eric was a life long bedwetter, so it’s fitting that’s his prime memory. Diapers weren’t anything icky or taboo for Eric, as a matter of fact, even as far back as those days he would often beg to be diapered hours before bed, just so he could be diapered and get changed again before bed. Eric’s mother even back then, always thought it was cute. She appreciated the bonding. There were several mornings were Eric would pout and beg to be cleaned up and put into a fresh diaper in the mornings. To which Karen, Eric’s mom always obliged.

Things continued this way for years. He was still diapered and changed by his Mom, Dad, Aunt, and some of their friends all the way up to around 11 or so. Now, Eric never pushed for this babying to stop, but his parents felt he could be doing it himself the majority of the time. (However, Eric knew how to sweet talk his mom and give that “look” and she would give in and diaper her pre teen son.

With it now being ‘08 and Eric eclipsing upon 12, he was upgraded to ABDL diapers, something he found on the internet. Bambinos, Abu’s, and Snuggies were the brands of choice. He always likes the thick and super crinkly feel of them, as well as the adorable waddle a fresh diaper and booster would offer.

Life was fairly normal up til then, Eric was involved I. Sports, with his bubbly personality he was making friends and all seemed like the typical American dream family. The first “chink” I’m the armor we’ll say came when he was invited to a sleepover where 7 of his friends would be staying over to celebrate one’s birthday.

Eric never showed a lot of interest in sleepover and such, mainly because he knew full well that he would have no choice but to be diapered, or risk wetting a bed and worsening the situation. When Eric sheepishly told his Mom about the invite, Karen intently listened and waited till the end to interject the elephant in the room

“Eric, you know you don’t really have a choice in being diapered, right? I just want to make very clear that you understand your situation.”

“Yes Mom, I know. That’s why I’m talking to you about it. Speaking of which, if I go lay down on the changing table now…do you maybe think you can come and diaper me? Please?

“Eric, it’s not even 5pm?!? Karen said in an almost annoyed tone

“Oh, well, I just wanted to be diapered Mommy.”

“I don’t understand your infatuation with being in diapers and for heavens sake using them when your awake, Your going to have to grow out of that eventually, you know that right?

Eric just mopped, and desperately starred at his mom for what seemed like an hour.

“Okay Eric, Dinner will be at 7, let’s get through dinner, and then a bath, and then I will help you get into your diaper, deal?

Eric definitely was not happy with that answer, but knows to pick his fights. “Ok mom, I’m going to the computer to work on some homework. “

“Ok sweetheart, and you better be working on homework, if I catch you in there looking at…I dont know what to call it “diaper porn”…I already told you your not going to like being in diapers ever again…you hear me?”

“Yes mam”

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’a little rude.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously. What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t see it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

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

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

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“You’re late!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not,” she warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

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

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

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

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

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry hums and unclenches it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

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

Lisa smiles.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he exhales.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

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

“Effect?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which part?”

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

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

“You know, so why don’t you?”

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

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

“And what if I don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

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

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

“That’d be nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Passion.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

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

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

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

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

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

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

“How are you?” She continues.

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

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

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No one said anything about nudes!”

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

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

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

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

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

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

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

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

“Or does it?”

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

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

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

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[coco96]

LDAF - The Avengers

Hiding Magic (Avengers X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Mention of crime (stealing) Request: ... reader who is a very powerful magician ... who also robs because their family is poor ... One day all the Avengers comes to their school to give a speech. However, the reader gets there late and sees the Avengers thinking they’re about to get arrested. They then go to the Bathroom to use magic and escape. Right when R using magic Peter, Tony, Strange walks in. After talking the R ends up an Avenger.

Serenity (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Sick child, illness Request: ... reader being a part of the avengers, but the others gets suspicious when she starts refusing missions on particular dates and she always sneaks of, but it turns out she visits a children’s hospital or something because she wants to give them hope? ...

Crushing The Grape (Avengers X Male!Reader) Warnings: Spoilers to Infinity War. Death. Reader basically tortured Thanos. Think Magneto with blood. Request: Could you do avengers x male reader where male reader kills that giant purple grape(thanos) on Titan

The Happiest Avenger (Avengers X Reader) TRIGGER WARNING: Depression and self harm mention Request: ... R is very happy to a point where they’re the happiest person on the avengers but the R is secretly messed up, they never shows it. The R has a secret they self-harm. So one day Steve finds the scars while they’re talking in the kitchen then thinks the worst. So he sets up a meeting with the crew and the next day R walks in and the crew have to act normal but then comfronts the R but the end is very fluff

Young Weapon (Avengers X Teen!Male!Reader) Warnings: Mention of violence, mention of fire, death of parents, mention of torture Request: ... reader where he’s discovered as a brainwashed assassin (like bucky) where he was taken when he was like 5 and is now 15 and he suffered worse than bucky did and they try to help him oh wow that was long

Not Happening (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of torture, brain washing, ptsd/nightmares and killing. Request: ... reader is a superpowered teenager that the avengers took care of after finding her in a hydra base. She’s still trying to fit in but the government is trying to take her away due to her past crimes when she was still controlled by hydra ...

Scratches (Avengers X Male!Reader) Warnings: Sexual mentions Request: … Where male reader was training and took his shirt of and the avengers see he has scratches(from late night activities) on his back and tease him about it and he comes up with a sassy response. The whole late night activities don’t have to be detailed

No More Fighting Pt 1 (Avengers X Reader)     |     Part 2 Warnings: Death of character Request: ... before the battle cap and iron have a fight but the reader plays peacemaker and makes everything alright. At the battle the reader sacrifice themself to help the avengers get away before getting captured ... but the avengers think they k.i.a. And at the funeral cap and iron make peace for the sake of the reader

Ranger (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Fighting Request: .... a steampunk style and meets the avengers after they see her beating up bad guys or something ...

Testing Patience (Avengers X Fem!Reader)     |     Part 2 Warnings: Mild swearing Request: … a very calm reader who life with the avengers in the tower and one day she is mad at something and all the avengers are there and think she is very cute when she is angry and hug her and joke on her, and she gets more angy because they think she is cute …

Anomaly (Avengers X Teen!Male!Reader) Request: ... reader who is a powerful being and all they know about their life is that they’re human with powerful powers. Avengers are trying to capture them, they’re trying to capture him to question him. because he robbed a bank and seen what the reader could do. The powers he has are called Imagination Manifestation its like imagining something and comes true. And at the end he some how gets a job at avengers

Blind Meeting (Avengers X Blind!Reader) Request: ... reader is really nervous to meet the avengers because shes blind but peter assures her that itll be fine and the avengers end up loving her

Loyalty (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Torture, memory loss Request: ... reader gets compromised, tries to take down the avengers ... They refuse to fight her ...

Revenge Is Bloody (Avengers X Vampire Reader)     |     Part 2 Warnings: Blood and gore Request: ... hydra operatives keep showing up dead drained of their blood? The team are called to investigate. Bucky is fine with it but everyone seems kind of nervous cause they don’t know what their dealing with. They find out it’s a girl in her teens that hydra experimented on turning her into a vampire and she was able to over power and hunt them down. They track her and she willingly goes with them to join the team.

Much Needed Sleep (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: passing out, swearing. Request: ... reader has insomnia and barely sleeps. She lies to the rest of them (the avengers) so they don’t worry. She has about 4 hours sleep a night, sometimes less. When she’s doing a mission, she collapses from exhaustion ...

Mistake (Avengers X Reader) Warnings: Injury, death Request: ... one day the reader messes up badly on a mission and the avengers talk about how the reader let down So the reader quits and the avengers go looking for the reader and finds them and talks about how they’re sorry ...

Real Magic (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warning: Falling from heights, presumed deaths, dangerous stunts. Request: Peter and The avengers go to a circus they decide to go see a magic show, and tony is totally not buying it. It turns out the reader is the star, and her magic is real. Maybe they try to get her on the team. …

“Did you have to seduce the entire team!?” (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Request: … reader is young and beautiful and starts living in the tower with the avengers and she flirts with all of them just for fun, and all of them think that she is in love with them and at the end they start fighting ... and ask reader which one would she choose finally and she chooses ruce ...

I Don’t Know What I’d Do Without You (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Self conscious reader, teasing Request: Can you do a female reader, where she feels as if she isn’t worthy enough to be in the avengers, she feels as if she’s the odd one out. Nat overhears her talking to her friend on the phone about thinking about leaving and she gets the others to convince her she is worthy?

Auntie June Came Early (Male Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warning: Period time~ Request: … reader is in her days and Nat and Wanda are away, and the male avengers got nuts because they think she might be in a lot of pain and overprotect her and dont let her do anything, not even move, and she complain about the pain just once and they all freak out and she thinks is hilarious! ...

Helping (Avengers X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Bulimia, throwing up, bullying, self conscious reader. Request: ... reader is Tony’s daughter (although all of them are protective of her) and she has bulimia and she gets caught purging by one of the team members.

Hello, I’m Pansexual (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mention of homophobia, anxiety. Request: ... reader’s part of the avengers and has powers, but is pan and struggling w how to come out to the team bc she’s scared they’ll kick her off?

Surprise! (Avengers X Reader) Warnings: Sad emotions Request: … reader thinks everyone forgot their birthday but they were just planning a surprise party for them? …

If You Get Killed, Walk It Off. (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Grieving, supposed death, explosion, blood, death Request: … reader is in a mission with the avengers and then there is an explossion and the reader was in that building and everybody thinks that she died, and start to cry and remember how they love her, and finally she was ok, and goes with them and ask what happen? …

Help (Avengers X Reader) SERIOUS TRIGGER WARNING: SELF- HARM MENTIONS Request: ... a super angsty self-harm one with avengers.

Where Do Babies Come From? (Avengers X Child!Reader) Warnings: Mild swearing, sex ed talk Request: … reader is the little protect one sister of the avengers (like 12 years old) and she goes around the tower asking the avengers how babies are made. (she doesnt have a mom, so she doesnt know anything) and Tony freaks out because doesnt want her to grow up! …

Phantom (Avengers X Fem!Reader)     |     Part 2 Request: ... reader’s super badass the team rarely sees her shes like a ninja and according to clint who ever sees her outside missions will have a lucky day (lmao) and like when the teams having movie night shes just like standing behind them in the shadows ...

No Spoilers (Avengers X Reader)     |     Part 2     |     Part 3 Warnings: Spoilers of AOU SET BEFORE AOU Request: ... reader from our universe gets dropped into the avengers.

One Last Goodbye (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Death, mourning. Request: … reader died during a mission. Fury give Tony a USB key and told him to watch the video with the rest of the avengers. on the video the reader is talking about how much she loved them and tells each avenger little facts that she loved about them and she thanks them for being her family. …

Birthday Girl (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Request: ... it’s the female readers birthday. She works with the Avengers but aside from that she doesn’t have any friends. She is having a bad birthday, the avengers don’t know. They find out it’s her birthday and surprise her, making it better. …

Welcome to the Family (Avengers X Elf!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of neglect Request: ... reader is half human, half light elf but you were taken from Alfheim and abandoned on earth when the dark elves attacked. (From Thor) The avengers find you and take you in. Thor offers to bring you home but you’ve gotten attached to the human world and decides to stay. You’ve especially gotten attached to Tony cause he treated you like a daughter since you were very young and petite. Smaller then normal elves

Not Your Fault (Avengers X Fem!Teen!Reader) Warnings: Mention of extreme injury, disability, guilt. Request: ... reader is Tony’s teen daughter and she is really good friends with everyone in Team Cap but then during the airport fight she gets hurt and is unable to walk again ... and then when she sees Team Cap again they feel really guilty specially because one of them caused the injury and Natasha feels angry at herself because she was supposed to be her mother figure and look out for her ...

Fitting In (Avengers X Adopted!Reader) Request: ... Tony, being known for his impulsive choices adopts a 14 yr old girl. She’s got the innocent girl next door look but she’s a complete devil. Nat loves her, Clint is afraid of her and Loki, Bucky and Sam are her partners in crime for evil pranks. All is well until she pulls a prank on Bruce and he hulks out. But even Hulk falls under her innocent spell and can’t seem to do anything to her.

Hair Pulling (Avengers X Reader) Warnings: Hair pulling, pulling hair out Request: ... One of the Avengers finds out that the reader has trichotillomania and try’s to help them to stop?

Headaches (Avengers X Reader) Warnings: Spoilers of AoU, Illness, swearing, mention of getting high and drunk Request: The reader is sick all of the time and the avengers are concerned about them, so they have to try and convince the avengers that they’re okay in the long run ...

Killer Cupcakes (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Serious illness, near death Request: ... reader is like really sick/hurt and tries to hide it from the other avengers, but they find out and freak bc she almost died ...

The Ultimate Sacrifice (Avengers X Male!Reader) Warnings: Death of character, description of death, mourning Request: ... they’re trapped in a capsized (upside down) cruise ship and the reader ... sacrifices himself to save the group, based on the song My Immortal by Evanescence ...

Animals (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Swearing Request: ... reader is sort of spiritually connected with animals or has some sort of connection with animals where they just adore her ... and the avengers ... keep finding random animals around the tower and Tony keeps telling her off for it; secretly everyone finds it amusing and the reader knows this.

I Need My Family (Avengers X Reader) Warnings: Mention of harrassment, assault and swearing Request: ... reader is part time university student - part time Avenger ... and reader somehow gets into some trouble that involves the police, and they try to keep it secret from the others, but Steve finds out and tells Wanda, then they tell the others ...

Other Me (Bucky X Fem!Reader)     |     *PREQUEL* [Part 2]     |     Part 3 *Sequel Warnings: Needles, stabbing, blood, death Request: … reader joined the avengers before Bucky. He sees her as sweet, shy and innocent but during missions she’s a complete psycho? After missions its like nothing happened. So he asks Steve about it and he says she’s like that cause before missions they take her off her meds that keep her in check. If she doesn’t have them she’s kinda over the top angry.

Hidden Art (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Request: ... reader is a shy recruit at the Avengers and she doesn’t really talk to anyone and didn’t let anyone in her room, and one day someone walked to her room and found out that she was very good at art ...

Joining The Team Pt 1 (Avengers X Reader)     |     Part 2     |     Part 3     |     Part 4     |     Part 5 ~Finale Warnings: Blood, Violence, torture Request: ... Avengers x reader fic, really angsty ...

Compromised (Neal Caffrey X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Nat kills someone, violence Request: ... Neal Caffrey (reader’s boyfriend) finds out she’s an Avenger, and the Avengers find out she has a boyfriend? Mozzie is protective of Neal and Nat and Bucky are protective of reader and try to scare Neal into backing off?

I’ll Kill Him (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: Mentions of Domestic abuse. Request: Reader is the Avenger’s assistant and like a little sister to them, and one day she doesn’t come into work and Bucky goes to her house to make sure she’s OK and finds out she’s in an abusive relationship and helps her.

Where’s Nat? (Avengers X Teen!Reader) Warnings: Blood. Looooots of blood. Request: teen reader has period and goes to avengers for help but Nat isn’t home – Tony is her uncle!

Not alone (Avengers X Reader) SERIOUS WARNING: SELF HARM MENTIONS. Other warnings: Getting shot. Request: Avengers see Reader’s self harm scars and confront her

Overprotective much? (Avengers X Fem!Reader) Warnings: One swear word, threatening, flirting, drinking and attempted murder by an overprotective brother. Request: ... reader is Tony´s sister and she is really beautiful (thats why Tony won´t introduce her) and the avengers are surprised and start bothering Tony and he gots really jealous and protective ...

[drivingsideways]

Misaeng review

Ok, it's been almost a week, so I feel like I can get my thoughts (somewhat) in order. As usual, I'm late to the party, given that Misaeng aired 6 years ago, and is already considered a kdrama classic. Still: thoughts!

(under the cut)

I came to this drama with quite a lot of expectations, both because I'd seen it on a lot of rec lists, and also because I'd watched director Kim Won-seok's Signal and My Mister, which are justifiably as beloved as Misaeng. I'm happy to report that Misaeng mostly lived up to those expectations!

The writing & direction work together to make Misaeng a very immersive experience, which is good, considering the entire run time is over 20 hrs. The level of seemingly mundane detail of the operational aspects of running a trading firm that they delve into (and other dramas might have avoided for sake of pacing) seemed odd to me at first, but eventually result in a world building that's incredibly well fleshed out. The (formerly unlikely!) high stakes of a misplaced piece of paper or octopuses in a shipment of squid end up being parts of an emotionally wrenching narrative whole fairly seamlessly. Still, at 20+ hours, Misaeng also does get into the kind of pacing issues that most of the slice of life kdramas I've watched so far have. And it didn't need to! I think it had a wonderful ensemble of characters, and if they'd maybe given a little more time and space to characters other than Jang Geu-Rae (Im Si wan) and Oh Sang-sik (Lee Sung-min), the mid portions may not have felt quite so, well, stuck.

But more than the strong writing and direction, it was really the actors who delivered. They made what could have easily been a dull-ish office drama into a heart warming story about human connection and the joys and troubles of leading an "incomplete life". I'd never watched Lee Sung-min in anything before, and about half way through the series I was like, HOW IS HE MAKING A SHORT TEMPERED, ALCHOHOLIC MIDDLE MANAGER SO SEXY? Like, serious props, dude. Lee Sung-min is by turns annoying and brash and too shout-y and stubborn and funny and so incredibly vulnerable as a man trying his best to live by his principles in a world that thinks they are an impediment to "success", that you forget that he's playing a fictional character-- he's someone you know, he's someone you've seen in the mirror.

His performance as Oh Sang-sik is very ably matched by Im Si Wan's Jang Geu-Rae. This series would not have worked if these two actors didn't have the chemistry they do, and play off each other in every scene. I had watched Im Si Wan recently- in JTBC's "Run On", in which I liked his performance quite a lot, but I absolutely loved him as the naive and endearing Jang Geu-rae. Misaeng, is in part, a bildungsroman narrative centered around Jang Geu Rae. Im Si wan brought a kind of vulnerability to the role that might have felt cloying and emotionally manipulative in the hands of other actors, but Im Si-wan manages to do it with a light touch. I feel he's one of those actors that uses his whole body in a scene, not just relying on facial or verbal expression, and it's a joy to watch.

Each of the other actors in the ensemble also bring that dedication and talent to their roles, even if it's in a single scene. There are lots of one-off characters that we meet during the course of the series, and every single one of them leaves an impact.

But! I'm going to pick a fave from the supporting cast and that's Byun Yo-han, whom I'd last watched as the broody, troubled (and very sexy) swordsman Lee Bang-ji in Six Flying Dragons. I can't imagine a character more in opposition to that one than Han Seok-yul in Misaeng, but Byun Yo-han just knocks it out of the park as the scheming, cheerful and mostly inappropriate clown with a heart of gold; Han Seok-yul is the definition of Chaotic Good, and you're equal parts horrified by his antics- which include sexual harassment dont @ me -- and yet charmed by him. I wish they'd given him a few more scenes and a larger plotline to work with, but I also suspect that he might have just walked away with the entire series if they did that. (Am I plotting that series in my head as I write this? MAYBE.)

Alright, this is getting a bit too long, so I'm going to get to the bits that disappointed me. That's really one major thing: the gender politics. I don't know how different the show is from the web toon it's based on, so I can't tell whether they made significant changes to the basic plot and characters. As in- I have no idea if the webtoon was as male dominated in every way as the show is, so I'm not sure how much of the show's treatment of women as a class, and its female characters in particular, I should lay at the door of the original writer vs the screenwriter and director. I'm also lacking the Korean context in which this was written and made and aired, so you may take my criticism with a pinch of salt, if you please!

That the show features mainly male characters is perhaps unsurprising and realistic, since we know that the kind of corporate life it depicts is very male dominated, top to bottom. The show also portrays the very real and horrific overt and subtle misogyny that women face in the workplace and out of it; mainly in the character of Ahn Young-yi, played with steely determination and quiet suffering by the lovely Kang so-ra. There are only 3 other female characters that have any sort of real speaking role- Sun Ji Young (played by Shin Eun jung), a senior manager at the company, Jang Geu-rae's unnamed(!) mother (played by the amazing Sung Byoung-Sook) and Oh Sang-sik's unnamed (!) wife (played by Oh Yoon-Hong, who's a delight in every tiny scene she has). There are other women who appear but in very minor roles, and often in "comedy" moments that often rely on sexist tropes to start with.

Anyway, right there you can see one of the problems- 4 women characters that have any kind of real screen time, and only 2 of them are named. Aigoo! Screenwriter Jung Yoon-jung is a woman, and like, I don't like putting the burden on any one woman to y'know fix structural misogyny, but I can't also help feeling disappointed that she overlooked even this "small" thing among the larger things.

But that apart, the main issue for me was that while the show doesn't shy away from depicting egregious sexism in the form of sexual harrassment, verbal and physical and certainly emotional abuse, in a manner that's clear that we are meant to be horrified by it--it falls short of depicting how women deal and work with it. It just doesn't give enough space to women or their worldview.

It's very comfortable depicting victimhood, but doesn't put work into depicting the ways in which women survive by finding solidarity with other women. We have a scene or two where Ahn Young-yi who is this show's poster child for female victimhood interacts with the older women who offer sympathy and understanding, but no real strategy or support. And yes, we see men also being targeted by their seniors for the grossest verbal and physical abuse; and it's men who help Ahn Young-yi strategise on how to deal with her situation. Real life experience tells me that it's the women who do this work for other women. I have certainly been on both sides of this equation, for one, and so has every woman that I know in corporate life. And yes, one of the show's core philosophies is that those who endure, survive--but it is none the less extremely painful to watch Ahn Young yi "endure" the kind of abuse she does as a coping strategy and a survival strategy.

At the end of it, when she slowly manages to gain the support of her sexist team, it's shown as a victory-- though naturally imperfect, because this show takes its Realism very seriously (right until the end where it makes a tonal shift into quirky that I was a little ?? about)-- and y'know, sure, it is a victory. And I absolutely understand the choices she makes and why she does it-- I guess I just got annoyed by the fact that other antagonistic figures in the narrative get a more straightforward comeuppance for their egregious behavior, but Ahn Young-yi doesn't even get a goddamned apology from her abusers. Instead, we have a half humourous, half serious moment where she comments on how she's working at turning herself into "someone cute"- because she understands now that sometimes the right strategy is to "go with the flow". Be the water that slowly wears away at the rock. It's an interesting moment- the men she tells this to are taken aback by her bluntness, but also a little clueless about what she means. It's the kind of nuance that I would and do enjoy. Unfortunately, it also closely follows one of the show's most annoying scenes at the tail end of the series- where it tries to play off workplace sexism and misogyny as comedy- boys being boys-Reader, when I tell you that I had to WORK to unclench my jaw--!

I'm not saying we should have a single and obvious narrative of female emancipation. I'm not against realism in fiction, but god, sometimes, please do remember that when we look for escapism, we are actually imagining a better world. The first step toward liberation is allowing yourself to imagine it.

And the show does allow other characters its moments of unfettered fantasy- Im Si Wan parkour-ing all over the rooftops of Amman- and having a semi mystical + Indiana Jones moment in the deserts of Jordan--so why, I ask, are the women not given that gift?

*looks into the camera *

Tl;dr: I enjoyed it, it made me cry every episode, and I cared about all the characters, and if you haven't watched it yet, treat yourselves.

PS. Yes, Han Seok-yul is a disaster bi, sorry, I don't make the rules. Yes, hotties Oh Min Seok and Kang Ha-neul are canonically naked in a hot tub six feet apart because they are bros. Yes, I will be writing the fix it in which they fuck like angry bunnies. Yes, I am going to put my shipper cooties all over this gen slice of life show, deal with it.

[thehoardofthegreatdragon]

Urahara Kisuke: "Come on baby, I know the law" But Actually Illegal

Hello and welcome to Coco has Too Many Feelings Hour. Today, it’s a character analysis of Urahara Kisuke because what gave him the fucking right to be so cool? WHAT GAVE HIM THE RIGHT?

Anyway. This is going to be half based on his dialogue, and half based on general action patterns, since both are damn interesting. There will be spoilers for most things but I’ll try to keep things after the Aizen arc vague. Also, it should go without saying that this is all my interpretation and very biased (extra biased because I Love Him). 

[AKA: This is like, just my opinion, man.]

Now before we begin can we just pause to appreciate how beautiful he is? If you haven’t, stare at this picture for at least a minute. Go on, I’ll time you. 

Now we can move on. 

Kisuke is, in a word, complicated. If I had to describe him (and considering that’s the point of this entire goddamn document, I better try), I’d say he’s a man with unstoppable curiosity and a heart that is far too soft to handle the fallout of his own invention. 

No matter where you put him, no matter what time he’s born into, he will create a weapon he shouldn’t have. He has this strange bit of naïveté about his science at first, but it fades as he sees what his science has done to people he cares for. He has a good heart-- a soft heart, under it all-- so he can’t just accept the damage he’s done and move on. He turns that genius to invention, so that he can fix the things he broke. He wants to help everyone he can, because he hurt so many. 

But that doesn’t ever make the guilt go away, and it doesn’t stop him from using people when he has to— we see this happen with Ichigo in the Soul Society invasion arc. Kisuke uses him to achieve his goals, but he is far from happy about it and apologizes afterwards. 

Alright, into the meat of his character. I’m going to skim over the fact that he is arguably one of the strongest characters in the entire show, a man who plans for every eventuality compulsively because he understands that people die in battle (people die when they are killed), and so intelligent that he was one of the few people Aizen actually was wary of. I’m skimming it, because otherwise this already too long essay would be three times as long and wax rhapsodic about every way that he is, in fact, an incredible badass. 

[IM SKIPPING IT FOR ALL OUR SAKES OKAY.] 

He will and does help people, but he’s very guarded. It makes a terrible kind of sense, because he worked in the Omnitsukidō, and I don’t think anyone can come out of a spy and assassination agency without some jadedness. The exile doesn’t help either, because now he’s been forced to deal with the fallout from a betrayal and the loss of his home too. 

That being said, the exile also made him more of his own man. Freer, in many ways. More able to be the eccentric self he wants to, better adapted to life, more likely to see how people could use him and less likely to let it happen. I think the living world suits him in a way that Soul Society never really did. 

At his core he's a good person, but he built walls upon walls around himself. And those walls never come down, and some of them are mirrors, and some of them are smokescreens that don’t look like walls, because he can never be simple and he doesn’t want to be understood. And even if someone does see part of who he is, he wants them to only see that particular part. 

He is an eccentric free spirit whose drive for invention cost him more dearly than anything else. His will to create, his truest self— the scientist, with inventions to make and the world to explore— started a war. It ruined the lives of people he wanted to be friends, and people who were friends. 

And as a scientist, that’s the greatest blow of all. It’s like Oppenheimer and the atomic bomb. He created a weapon he couldn’t control, but he did it with something he loved with his whole heart. It hurts twice as deeply, when it comes from love. 

He’s also a follower more than a leader. Kisuke is the support type, for all his fighting skill— he’s ready with backup plans and transportation and research, but he needs a person to follow into battle. For a long time that was Yoruichi. Then he stood on his own as a captain, but the way he did it was by structuring his division into a support division rather than a truly fighting one (his own way of coping with new leadership, imo. He turned the 12th into the division he wanted it to be, rather than really learning how to lead a fighting division). 

Then he had to stand on his own, in exile, and he did. I imagine this was mostly fueled by guilt and determination, because he had to fix the mess he had helped create and defeat Aizen. But even still, he still kept to the shadows and planned Aizen’s downfall, rather than stepping on the battlefield and doing it himself (for many reasons, of course— Aizen was still in Soul Society’s good graces and it would have been suicide, Kisuke is not a foolish man who would throw away the best chance at success for a fight). 

And at last, he chose Ichigo to follow. But this is doubly interesting because at first he is uses Ichigo to achieve his goals. Supposedly, Kisuke himself couldn’t have gone to Soul Society to rescue Rukia (because of the exile, though let’s face it Kubo’s world building doesn’t explain how Yoruichi could go so who really knows. And Kisuke being Kisuke, would have found a way into Soul Society if he thought it would help their fight against Aizen. Anyone who doesn’t believe that can see the TYBW arc and Fight Me). 

But there were many people who had a better chance of going in his stead, and many ways to save Rukia that didn’t involve a straightforward invasion. This is not to mention that Kisuke used Rukia too, with the intention of forcing Aizen’s hand. 

So when Ichigo and Kisuke first meet, he views Ichigo as a tool (and a person, because he’s a good man and never free of the guilt).  

But with each battle, we see how Kisuke trusts Ichigo more and more. This progression continues until the last battle with Aizen, and then after that Kisuke stands behind Ichigo with absolutely no hesitation. Throughout the last arc, throughout the remainder of the manga, when Ichigo needed him, Kisuke was there— with supplies, with research, with a path to Hueco Mundo, hell even with a path to the big palace up in the sky. And Kisuke trusted Ichigo absolutely— see the panel where Ichigo asks Kisuke to hold out until he gets there, and everything will be alright because Ichigo will handle it. And Kisuke’s response to that is just a smile and a single word— “Understood.” 

The trust between them is absolute. This is surprising, if you think of how few people Kisuke has really trusted over the years, and how few he trusts to this extent. 

[It’s also very interesting that of all the people Ichigo choses to tell to “wait for me,” it’s Kisuke but that’s just my loyalty kink showing up don’t mind me.]

Once the guilt of using him was gone, Kisuke could follow the leader he’d chosen. And he did, endlessly. 

On that note, Kisuke’s dialogue choice with Ichigo develops in a very interesting way. In the beginning its challenging and on the ruthless side (“don’t use her as an excuse to kill yourself,” for example), into something much more trusting and less challenging (the “understood” for instance, or the “what would you like me to do” ). This evolution tracks with the evolution of Kisuke’s changing attitude towards Ichigo. 

We move from Kisuke only promising to help when he extracts something in return (“Do you really think, there is no way to get to Soul Society? I’ll tell you, on one condition.”) to Kisuke offering to help Ichigo before being asked (“My my, you guys sure are having an interesting conversation. So, this Hueco Mundo trip. Shall I arrange it?”).

[Imagine how much literally anyone else would pay to have a scientist of Kisuke’s caliber basically on retainer. And Ichigo gets it for the low low price of absolutely free.]

All this is to say, that I think that Kisuke can and is always ready for any eventuality but that it’s only after his trust is earned by Ichigo that he gives his plans so easily to other people. He has chosen a king, so to speak. 

[Don’t call out my power kink or I will personally end you.]

Moving on to dialogue in general, we see many damn interesting patterns. Perhaps intentionally, Kisuke's a bit on a different wavelength, and no one expects the answers he gives to any questions. Its eccentricity, but honed into a weapon and very self-aware. He often interprets questions in different ways than expected, like he’s purposefully setting people off guard. 

Consider the following response he gives to an enemy in later chapters (TYBW arc): 

“Asking me such a personal question, is really more of a second date thing.”

He’s never met this person before in his life, and his response is to just, straight up flirt. THIS IS FLIRTING. KISUKE. WHY ARE YOU FLIRTING. HE’S NOT EVEN HOT. 

Anyway. In general, Kisuke has two broad categories of speech patterns: completely serious and teasing-playful-fake-humble.  Unlike many other characters who use a baiting tone and words against enemies (Frankenstein from Noblesse comes to mind as an example), Kisuke uses them on friends and enemies alike. And his tone isn’t really mocking but fake-humble and fake-playful.

Examples of this—

“Oh? You know of me. What an honor.” (Said behind fan)

“It’s wedged in their rather fatally, Yoruichi-san!” (Said to Yoruichi’s ass)

[Seriously, who does this asshole think he is? Yoruichi kicks him and I’m glad she does.]

He's very often cheerful, and usually smiling as he speaks. I’d say his eyes are the biggest giveaway to his emotion because they dont really ever soften. (And because Kubo has a Thing for drawing them covered in shadows and looking badass, see Exhibit: Oh No He’s Hot, pictured below)

In this playful mode, even when he apologizes it’s usually in a way that somehow makes it worse. He’s constantly either annoying people or throwing them off guard or a combination, but in a much more cheerful eccentric way than say, Frankenstein. For example, after he says the line above to Yoruichi (in the middle of a battle, I might add), he says this:

“Why would you kick me? I came to help. I’m sorry, perhaps the expression “wedged in” was a bit vulgar.” 

He’s managed to repeat the thing that made her kick him, in a way that almost makes it worse, but in a way that makes it seem like hes trying to apologize. It’s very clever, and also ideal for pissing people off, intentional or not. (But who are we kidding, this is Kisuke. It’s definitely intentional). 

But he can also switch to a serious mode quite quickly, seemingly able to interweave the two modes without really needing to break between them. This most often comes out when there is someone to save or protect.

[Because he's secretly a softie, as mentioned above, god I love him]

For example, when Masaki is in danger, even tho he's never met her or the soul reapers before (and when his very existence should make him avoid Isshin), he says this:

“We dont have time to waste. Both of you, please come with me. I will tell you the choices you have to save her.”

It’s to the point, succinct, polite, and also filled with a desire to save. It’s also completely at odds with his playful tone when he speaks in other times. I think this dichotomy is the core of Kisuke. Of course he's playful and eccentric— and this makes him the delightful character he is— but at his core he's a man who cares about people and wants to help. He doesn’t hesitate to apologize when he is in the wrong either, kneeling before Ichigo after the Soul Society arc and not asking for forgiveness but explaining why he is sorry. (Ichigo forgives him, because Ichigo will always forgive him, and that hurts even more). 

But even when there are threats to life, if they've been dealt with and he's in a controlled environment, he pulls out the playful act again, though it often has an edge. For example, after he saves Ichigo for the first time he says this:

“What? You sound upset. Didn’t you want to be saved?”

It’s on the edge of teasing but its also much more pointed than anything else he's said to Ichigo at this point. It’s followed by some of the rawest and cruelest lines of dialogue I’ve ever read, because Kisuke doesn’t flinch back from being harsh when he has to be. 

Even his cruelty, when he is forced to use it, comes from a place of care and a desire to help. Doesn’t stop it from stinging like hell. 

It’s at this point where I descended into crying about Kisuke and how good he was and how much I love him, and so decided to stop.

In summary: Kisuke is a good man who couldn’t stop himself from inventing the most destructive weapon to exist. But he’s a good man, and so he spent a century crafting his own penance. 

General Kisuke Dialogue I’ve collected, in case people find it useful:

Stop fighting, you two. It’s my fault, I should have disposed of it. 

We have no choice. We’ve got to find it and neutralize it before it causes any trouble. 

No way, accidents happen! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. There now, its okay. 

Good, let’s move! Operation “recall”

Well look here. We finally find you, and you’re already incapacitated. What a waste. We lugged all this stuff here for nothing. 

I’m going to destroy it. Hmm. I’m not sure how to answer that. 

This is serious. I won’t take the fall for you. 

No no, Kurosaki-san. Your wounds have barely closed. If you move around too much, you’ll die <3. 

Do you really think, there is no way to get to Soul Society?

I’ll tell you, on one condition. For the next ten days, you must allow me to train you. 

You don’t understand. What I’m trying to tell you is they’ll kill you.Could you win? If you fought them as you are? I allowed you to fight them this time, because I thought it would make it easier for you to understand. At your current level of ability, you wouldn’t stand a chance in soul society. You’re weak. For you to venture into enemy territory now would be suicide. You want to save Kuchiki-san? Don’t make me laugh. Don’t use her as an excuse to kill yourself. 

Of course. If you wish to save Kuchiki-san with your whole heart, then you have at your disposal a power stronger than iron. But if your resolve is half-hearted, forget it. For the next ten days, I’m going to put you through the wringer. 

What? You sound upset. Didn’t you want to be saved?

He went home. His wound bled a lot, but it wasn’t severe. 

Couldn’t you have come up with anything better? [how lame]

Looks like I was a step too late.

What would you like me to do? Shall I book a ticket to reiokyu? It may take me some time though. [to ichigo]

We dont have time to waste. Both of you, please come with me. I will tell you the choices you have to save her. 

My my, you guys sure are having an interesting conversation. So, this Hueco Mundo trip. Shall I arrange it?

[I] its usually like this with Urahara. [K] you know me too well <3

Oh? You know of me. What an honor. (Said behind fan)

To be included in such an esteemed group, I don’t know what to say. Its an honor, but he’s giving me too much credit.

It’s wedged in their rather fatally, Yoruichi-san!

Why would you kick me? I came to help. I’m sorry, perhaps the expression “wedged in” was a bit vulgar (makes fake apologies a lot)

Asking me such a personal question, is really more of a second date thing.

You see, even if I don’t tell you, you’ll be up close and personal with it soon enough.

[dsmamedits]

LETTER-TO-C

June 10, 2020

Dear C,

I stopped calling you sweetie because I felt that things were lacking between us that we were growing apart. Doubt grew between us. I know when someone is lying to me or at least doesn't tell me the whole truth. I just know. It's just like how we both have a feeling when we'll message each other. It's an instinct instilled in us. I know you hide things for my sake because you did say that white lies are okay as long as it won't hurt the other person but for me lies are lies even if you say they are white lies because white lies are lies that hide things from someone but nothing can stay hidden, the truth will be set free. And once it is free and it's been proven that one wasn't transparent it will hurt more to the person who was kept in the dark. People are not weak, you don't need to lie to them to protect their feelings. Especially me, I'm stronger than you think. I can face anything. I'm stronger knowing there are people who have my back and love me. Isnt that how it's supposed to be?

There are things I can't let go of. I dont want a relationship built on Lies, doubt, dishonesty and no transparency. I may say things that hurt. I may have a cold heart. But it was all to protect you from more trauma and hurt and to protect myself. I know I too have things I still have left unsaid, I want to tell you but there's always something stopping me.

My reaction is a reflection of anothers treatment to me. I've seen relationships and I've experienced my own set of tribulations and I'm sure you have too. Im not insensitive, quite the opposite, You started to not care as much. The doubt grew when you didn't want to open up to me, you would usually tell me about your day the first few weeks of getting to know each other and then you didn't open up as much. I know you're usually detailed when talking about something you're passionate about but that stopped. I had to ask instead of you naturally telling me... That's alright because that helped me be more inquisitive and curious about others. But that was one change. When I told you about it you tried opening up more but I dont like telling people what they should know already. What should have come naturally if you really respected me and my feelings.

I don't like how you made a big deal about my virginity and blamed me for it how I could have prevented it and called me naive and simply didn't understand why it happened and insisted it was my fault. You should have let me go then when I was asking for it. For you to question my situation when you've slept around with other women was an unfair way of taking it out on me. I didn't bring that up anymore because you said you didn't want to say things that I could hold against you. But I'm bringing it up here so I can finally let it go and show you how unfair your way of thinking was.

I know my reactions could have been more lax but when you care about someone when you feel pain you may react the way I did. This is the first time I ever cared about somone to the point I would get mad because I was hurt. I know I could've dealt with this more calmly. This was my first time experiencing this much pain and hurt. I didn't know what to do. If I knew I would've known how to deal with it. With you. You made me fall in love with you and you decide to get sick of me after everything I've shared with you. Way to show me I'm not worth it. Not worth the trouble especially knowing my background. Thanks a lot.

You shut down in front of me. Didn't come after me. Didn't hug me and tell me everything is alright. And you didn't let me see anything. You deleted everything instead of showing me. You hid something from me. I'm not stupid but you kept making me feel stupid and I wanted to ignore everything and accept what you said but if you think about it.... Why would she call you just because you had that sickness before. You're not a doctor. And why would she call you several times. I know you wanted to protect all the women you dated. But I wouldn't care about them if you showed me you cared about me more. You protected them. You hid things from me. When I asked you again why you didn't add me on fb, do you remember what you said? You said, why do I need to add you on fb. In an irritated voice. I got scared and embarrassed. So I shut up and didn't insist on it. But I've always wanted to tell you. I can take care of myself. If anybody tries to bully me I have you. If you can't save me from your exes I have me. And if they try to ruin my reputation so what it's not the truth because the truth was that you and I were dating and you were no longer with them. So tell me, what was I supposed to be afraid of? Could you not have protected me? Why were you so adamant about keeping me out of your fb if it was just something you used. Why did you hide things from me. Did you not trust me?

I need a strong man to be beside me through thick and thin to prove to me that I'm worth loving no matter how imperfect I am and to help me get through it by offering something more tangible and helpful instead of telling me to handle my emotions more. Making me feel like I'm to blame for everything being ruined because I overthink about the things I can't make sense of because YOU wouldn't give me details when YOU used to be so detailed about everything!

I'd rather have someone be honest with me with the truth instead of hurt me with lies out of kindness. That is not kindness that is something that will eventually cause pain. Nobody's perfect and I understand that, that's why I gave you chances and you gave me chances but time and time again you made me doubt you. And all I could do was blame myself because I knew things could have been better.

Remember when we didn't go out for valentines? I didn't mind until you said you went out to dinner with your ex during valentine's before. I felt less important... then you said you needed to be with hero that day....I understood that but I felt you were defensive because I already knew that and you said it in a way like "dont be unreasonable", I kept quiet because I didn't want to make a big deal out if it but if you really wanted to spend it with me even just a few hours you would have. There are times when you pick hero up late. But that day I wondered why were you acting that way. We were just starting and I wanted to let it go because I didn't want to sound petty and it didn't help when you said you felt guilty and couldnt explain why, as if you were hiding something. If you really wanted too you would have put an effort. But you didn't. And now that time is gone forever.

I didn't want to keep silent because this might help you understand women more. If you think loving and showing a girl effort is just by feeding them, picking them up and saying words of I love you and making love with them, anybody could do that. If our roles were switched I'd be happy to do all that for you knowing it would make life easier for you. I bet thats how you felt too when you picked me up. Like you said that's what I deserved. But effort is more then that. Time is the most important factor for me. And you were willing to give it to me. You were gonna spare two days to be able to see me while juggling your work and life. I appreciated that...

I always came back when you asked me too and that was because I liked, loved, and cared about you. It annoyed me when you could see through me, when you took my seperation fits as jokes and said I just missed you. That was truer than true. I missed you so much and I was going crazy without you and surrounded by the negativity of everything. I started becoming obsessed with you because I had nothing better to do. You were my whole world. But you were becoming busier and I felt like I was neglected. I knew you were busy and you were trying to find time for me amidst your busy schedule. This is where I lack, communication, being honest about what I want to say. Instead of just telling you what I want from you I just become quiet and keep it inside because I dont want to be insufferable and a bother. But I ended up becoming one... I guess it ended up that way in the end. I remember the time we first met, how you accepted me for my messy past and got mad for me. I see things through rose coloured glasses. Everyone is kind, everyone has a reason for what they do. There is a story on how that person became the way they were. I didn't want to accept the grey and dark parts of the world.

I remember you telling me not to meet the guy in rockwell, I remember we watched the joker and we ate at the burger place, I remember watching in festival cell number 7 filipino version and we walked a lot, I remember going to your roof top and how beautiful and peaceful it was. I remember staying at your place and eating out at different places. I remember the first time we took edsa going to your place and how there were so many busses and I thought to myself, if we could get to your place faster by using this route so I could spend more time hugging you I don't mind taking this route all the time, I remember eating at that vintage burger place. I remember the wings and burger and raspberry juice. I remember that other burger wings place with a huge garage and how a truck passed by and you introduced me as your girlfriend, I was surprised coz you didn't ask me yet but it made me happy but also confused, was this how relationships worked? I remember walking by the river near your place and how I wanted to walk more but I was so tired and I wanted to go to the place you wanted to show me but fatigue got to me. I remember when we were at cloud 9 and I pretended to be not scared of how high up we were while on the bridge and you were acting cute behind me and I just wanted to bite and pinch you. And also punch you because I was getting more scared coz you kept making kulit. I remember how fun it was going home.

I also remember how the next time we rode the motorbike together you were a bit cold. You didn't like me hugging you and said you were having a hard time but usually you would laugh and say you liked it. Also you said you didn't like it when I was putting your shirt up and I thought you did because when we were going from cloud 9 you were laughing it off.

I remember how you got so red when you drank and fell asleep. I remember there was the one time where we did it and it was the most ecstacy I've ever felt, but when I found out the sad things, like how you were still talking to your ex and how you felt like you were distancing yourself from me, making love and loving you started to hurt.

I remember how you changed to letting me bite you when I told you that you got mad when I bit you. I remember taking lots of pictures of us together and of you when we went to the national museum and how paranoid i was about COVID19. I liked seeing you so serious looking around and hiding from you every now and then. One of my fave memories was when we went to celebrate my bday and how much fun it was to watch you sing for me. How we both could just let loose in each other's company. I remember eating at an open ventilated space in Makati with beautiful lighting and how you couldn't eat properly becasue you were having a stomach ache. I remember the time we were in jolibee and you told me about your mom and what she went through and the reason why you came back and how weak she became and how you teared up. You were beautiful.

I'm sorry I let my overthinking cloud the beautiful memories we made. I'm sorry I couldn't show you how much I loved you. I'm sorry I was mean and hurtful to you. I'm sorry that I wasnt enough. I'm sorry for being toxic. I'm sorry I couldn't love you the way you wanted to be loved. I hope you find someone who can love you the way I know you deserve to be loved. We're both too hurt to mend things. Sometimes something broken can't be put together and it's best to carry the broken pieces, glue it together with someone else to create something even better and unique. This is the closure I can offer. I know you've chosen a better path and i can only hope we both find the happiness we deserve. I can't help but blame myself because I know I pushed you to the limit. You got tired of trying because you thought that I was mean and confusing. Because I was toxic and I knew that, that's why I chose this path.

I wanted to let you know how I felt not for you but for my peace of mind.

#bittersweetmemories #loveletter #painfulmemories #youth #confused #distraught #sadness #ending&partings #THEEND

[cal-puddies]

meet fletch || pt 6 || ashton irwin

meet fletch || pt 1 || pt 2 || pt 3 || pt 4 || pt 5 || pt 6

Cal looks over at you in the car. “You ok?” 

“Yeah… I knew it’d be possible… but I didn’t think he’d do this to me.” You sigh. 

Cal rests his hand on your thigh, and he lets you sit in silence awhile. Even when you get back to his house, he lets you be. He doesn’t know what you need right now because he doesn’t know you that well.

But he’s happy when you seek him out. He’s out back with Duke and a beer. 

“Sorry.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him. 

“I’m really not sure what for.” He kisses the top of your head. 

“Shutting down. It just… caught me off guard, what Fletch said.” 

“Remember he’s six, and he has no idea how that sounded to you. But also, it’s ok. People need time to process.” He chuckles. 

“I know, but everything with us is both new and potentially temporary. I hate that I wasted that time even if it was just a couple hours.” 

“Please don’t think of this as temporary. I know it’s easy too but I’m already thinking of ways to stay in you and Fletch’s lives.” Cal murmurs. 

“Cal.” You say pulling away. 

“It’s not ideal. And I know you’ll go back to Aus and it will make this infinitely more difficult. But I dunno. You’re worth it.” He shrugs. 

You cling a little tighter to him and he takes you to bed. 

Something feels a little off the next morning. It’s not Cal, but you can’t pinpoint it, so you have to go about your day. 

Cal takes you home and says he’ll come by later for dinner. You do some laundry and a little bit of packing, since the end of the trip is coming up. And then hit up the grocery store and sit down to do some work before Calum comes over. 

You check your phone in the late afternoon and there’s a text from Ash.

-fletch seems to be having a bad day 

-not everyday is puppies and rainbows with a six year old. What’s going on?

-he’s having a tantrum about eating :(

That gets you worried, Fletch loves to eat. 

-is he running a fever? 

-dont think so. Kay Kay checked it earlier said she thought it was normal. 

-ok. Great. Can YOU check it and let me know? 

-Kay Kay is actually really good with him… 36.5 c

-I don’t give a fuck if she’s the best ever. You’re his father. That’s normal. Ask him what’s wrong? You suggest before turning your phone over to get work done. 

You don’t check it again until after you and Cal have dinner, and are chatting over a glass of wine when it starts ringing incessantly. You finally pick it up and see that it’s Ash. 

“Hey ash. Everything ok?” You ask, making eye contact with Calum. 

“Fletch is having a meltdown and just screaming about how he wants his mom. I don’t know what to do. He doesn’t want anything to do with me so we’re on the way over.” He informs you and you can hear fletch screaming in the background. 

“Ok… we’ll see ya soon, I guess.” You shrug and hang up. “Fletch wants me.” You tell Cal. 

“Should I go?” He asks. 

“I don’t think so. Not yet anyway.” 

You can hear them coming when they get there. Fletch is still screaming all the way down the hall. “We’re almost there fletch. You will see your mom.” You hear Ashton outside the door. You set the wine down and wait for ash to open the door. 

“Momma.” Fletch sniffles, coming over to you. 

You pick him up and stroke the back of his head. “Hi bubba. What’s wrong?” You ask. 

“I thought you left me because i said I wanted to see dad more and momma I don’t want you to go.” He blubbers. 

“Bubba.” You coo, “I couldn’t leave without you. You’re my baby, what would I do without you.” 

“Please don’t leave.” He clings to you tightly. 

“I wouldn’t Fletch. Or you’d know and understand why and how long before I did. I’m not leaving you, baby.” You assure him. 

“We can go home momma, we don’t have to stay. Just don’t leave.” He cries harder. 

“Ohh… Fletch I need you to calm down bubba. We’ll figure out whether we’re gonna stay or go, but we’ll be together still.” 

You notice Ash is unmoved from near the door and Cal is kind of admiring you a moment. 

“I’m gonna go.” He comes by and whispers. 

“What? Why?” you ask. 

“You two need time together.” He kisses your cheek. “We’ll have time for the three of us soon.” You turn and look for for his lips, and he finally presses his to yours. “I’ll talk to you later. Night Fletch, hope you feel better bud.” 

Fletch huffs out a “bye uncle cal.” 

“You ok bubba?” You ask, after he’s calmed down considerably. 

“Can I stay with you?” He sniffles.

“Yeah bubba, you’ve always been able to stay with me.” You continue to hold him, walking around a little bit, trying to soothe him. You look to Ash, “did you bring any of his stuff?”

“No. I don’t even know why…. he just started screaming for you and I… panicked and brought him to you.” He wipes a hand over his face. You can tell looking at Ash that today had’t’ve been a hard day, he looks worn. You nod. 

“Baby, why don’t we get you in some pjs and we’ll snuggle up on the couch with dad and watch a movie before bed?” 

“Ok.” He sniffles. 

You luckily kept a few extra things for Fletch, and you let him get changed. He’s obviously tired when you head back out to the living room. Ash is sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. 

Fletch waits for you to sit and he sits right next to you, leaning into you. He taps ash and holds his hand out, ash looks and grabs it, and then grabs the remote. He lets out a breath you recognize as stress right after he turns the tv on. 

“What do you wanna watch, bubba?” He asks Fletch. 

Fletch looks up at you, “he asked you bubba, not me.” You chuckle. 

He only gets a quarter of the way into the movie before he’s asleep. You get about halfway through before you pick him up and put him in your bed. 

Ash has turned the movie off and is looking for something else. “Sorry I ruined your night.” He says quietly, watching you sit. 

“It’s ok.” You shrug. “Not every day is fun and easy. It’s good you got to see that. Sometimes plans get ruined because the kid comes first.” 

“What did you do if something like that happened? There’s no one else to take him too.” 

“He’s usually just tired, but since I haven’t been with him, I don’t know what the issue is.” You admit. 

“This hasn’t been easy, has it?” Ash asks, looking you over. 

“Ha. He told me the other night that he wanted to live here with you and kay Kay and grandma and aunt Lauren would visit him here and I’ll tell ya what… broke my fuckin heart.” You sigh. 

“Yeah, Cal mentioned that when he was over earlier.” Ash nods. 

“I just don’t think you understand this.” You shake your head, getting up to clean up after you and Cal. “It’s fun for you right? Because you’re getting to know each other and he’s at a super fun age. He has personality and he’s discovering how things work, and he’s curious. But you weren’t there for the hard stuff, when he was a baby and colicky and I was the only one around to take care of him, or figuring out how to go to school and work and still be there for him and get him daycare. Or figuring out how to feed him and also myself, buy diapers… and don’t even say if I would have told you…” you warn. 

“I know. I think it was an easy choice for you, and I can’t even say what I would have done if I was in your shoes because I never could be… but I’m here now and I know I didn’t know what to do tonight and truthfully I don’t think I’ve been following his schedule because I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.” He tries to explain, “but I want to know. I want to be able to handle this.” He sighs, “I told you I wanted to be apart of this and that means the good and the bad. Not just with him but you too.” Ash gets up and puts himself in front of you, “but you gotta stop heading me off all the time. I’m cool with whatever you and Cal are up to. I just want you to know I’m here and I wanna help you out and here would be easier but if it’s not right for you then we’ll work it out at home.” He shrugs, resting his hands on your shoulders. “I just need to learn. You didn’t inherently know how to do all of this.” He points out. 

“No, I didn’t. You’re right.” You nod. “It’s hard to let someone else in on this though.” You shrug. 

“Have you given any more thought to being here? I can help you find a job, you can stay here. I don’t use this place. We can find a great school for Fletch.” He gently tightens his hands. “Please, I just want a more permanent part of his life. And once you’re comfortable with the idea… I wanna be able to tell people he’s mine.” 

“For the sake of honesty… my company does have an offer out for me to stay.” You murmur. 

“No fucking way.” Ash looks excited, he pulls you in and squeezes your body against his. “I could be in Fletch’s life! What does Cal think? What do you think?” 

“Cal thinks I need to do what’s best for fletch and I.” You shrug. “I’m still undecided… though Fletch’s little plea to stay with dad wasn’t my favorite.” You admit. 

He sighs, drops his hands. “What is it? Why are you so reluctant? Just let me help. Let me be apart of your lives.” 

“You don’t get to just walk in and make decisions Ash! None of this has really been on my terms. I’m constantly giving because you’ve somehow made me feel guilty and the bad guy because I put you first, like I always have.” You're exasperated and you know you need to get away from him. You grab your phone and step out on the balcony, closing the door behind you to make it clear that Ash shouldn’t follow you. 

You check your phone for texts and you have one from Cal. 

-hope things are going ok and he sent a picture of duke. 

You reply with a sad face and your phone is immediately ringing. “Hey.” You say. 

“Ya ok, little one?” Cal asks, immediate concern. 

“Just getting into it with Ash again.” You shrug. “What are you up to?” You check. 

“We’re just watching some Tv before bed.” Cal starts. 

Ash peaks his head out the door, “maybe I should go.” He says. 

“Of course! Why not? That’s the easy thing to do.” You retort. 

“He’s asleep. You don’t want to talk to me…” he defends. 

“Ash you have to give me some fucking time ok? I’ve never had to co parent or deal with another adults feelings about things when it comes to fletch, I need some fucking time to process shit.” 

He sighs and he realizes, yeah, that’s probably right. “Ok. I’ll be inside.” He shrugs. 

“Don’t you need to get home to kay Kay anyway?” You roll your eyes.

“That doesn’t matter right now.” He says simply, shutting the door. 

You hold the phone back to your ear and sigh. “Want me to come back by?” Cal asks. “Sounds like you might need a buffer.” 

“Nah. No reason to put you in this. I probably just need to get it off my chest.” You sigh, letting your head roll back. 

“Ok. Well I wanna see you tomorrow.” 

“I wanna see ya too.” You grin a little. 

“Have a good night little one.” He says. 

“You too Cal.” 

You sit outside a little longer to let yourself cool down and then you get to your feet and go back inside. Ash has made himself comfortable, his shoes are off and he’d taken his jacket off finally. 

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly. 

“No… you were right. It’s a change for all of us and we all need to be patient with each other.” He’s just as quiet. 

“You said the right thing you know, about not going home to kay Kay right now.” 

“I told you I want him in my life and I have to make him a priority.” He nods. “And I have to keep in mind that you need to adjust too, but having him means including you, and taking into consideration your feelings on things. I’ll stay the night. I’ll be here in the morning if he wants to come back home with me.” He shrugs. 

“We just gotta keep talking to each other. I can’t read your mind anymore than you can read mine.” 

You end up asleep on the couch with Ash, when you wake up you don’t remember if you fell asleep at opposite ends but you sure as shit woke up at the same end, his arms tucked around you. You push away and stare at him, “what the hell irwin.” You groan. You get up and walk back to the room to check on fletch. He’s just playing by himself on the bed. “Hey Fletch, how ya feeling bubby?” You ask. 

“I feel better, mom.” He reaches his arms out for a hug and you give him one. “We should talk bubba.” You say, getting up to close the door. “You really wanna stay here?” 

“I wanna be close to dad.” 

“Ok but you wanna leave your friends and your school, and grandma?” 

“Grandma can visit, dad said so.” 

“Fletch this is a really big decision, and I’m glad you wanna tell me how you feel about it, but you know I still have to do what’s right for us, right?” 

“Ok mom.” He nods. “Am I going back to dads today?” 

“That’s up to you. Dads still here if you wanna go back home with him.” 

“What are you doing today?” He asks. 

“I was gonna see Calum.” You shrug. 

“Could I spend time with you today?” He asks, his curious eyes meet yours, and it’s a little surreal because Ash used to look at you that way. “And I can go to dad’s later?” 

“Of course, my love. Calum will wait.” 

“He can come too. I haven’t spent a lot of time with uncle Cal.” 

“Are you sure bubba?” You check and he nods. “Ok little monkey, why don’t you go tell dad what your plan is.” 

You follow him back out to the living room and he’d climbed on the couch with Ashton, who was holding him. “Of course you should spend the day with your mom. I know she misses you.” He whispers loudly to Fletch and kisses the top of his head. Fletch whispers something you can’t hear back and Ashton looks at him in disbelief, “I can never be mad about that bubba.” He assures him. “I love you Fletch.” 

“I love you too dad.” 

You grin. “Ash can you stay so I can get a quick shower?” You ask. 

“Yep. Maybe we’ll go out and get breakfast to bring back.” 

Fletch’s eyes light up, “mama loves pancakes!” 

“I know. We should get her some.” Ash agrees. 

“Alright well if dads gonna take you to get breakfast, we need to get you cleaned up.” You clap, and Fletch jumps right up. Ash helps him in the bathroom, wash his face and brush his teeth. You text Cal and let him know that you’ll be spending the day with Fletch and he was invited. 

He easily agrees and invites you over to his so Fletch could play with Duke if he wanted. 

When you get out of the shower you can hear the boys are back. “Hey dad? Do you think mom likes Calum?” 

“I do bud. I think she likes him a lot… help me set the table, Fletch.” Ash asks, handing him the plates. 

“Will that make you sad?” 

“No. Mom deserves to be happy and there isn’t anyone better in the world than you and uncle Cal.” 

“Do I like uncle Cal?” Fletch asks. 

“You get to make up your own mind on that. I like uncle Cal. He’s my best friend.” Ash explains, and you decide to spare him and come out dressed. 

“Mama!” Fletch smiles at you, “we got you pancakes!” He’s beaming. 

“Thanks love.” You smile and kiss him.

Taglist: @cocktail-calum @1dthewantedlove @september09241994 @youngblood199456 @lustingforwunder @calumsphile @neso-k @rosecoloredash @radmcqueen @justayoungandwisefangirl @itsnotmyblood @slimthicccal @softboycal @lietoash @pushthetide21 @5sosfanficrec @pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles @therealmrshale

gc tags: @sublimehood @sugarcoated-pain @5sosnsfw @angelbabylu @aspiringwildfire @irwinkitten @lashtoncurls @myloverboyash @singt0mecalum

masterlist || ashton || calum || luke || michael

wanna be tagged? go here

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Hey, so I'm force to go to this xenophobic church in Manhattan- they even have an organization where they go to abortion clinics and coerce people w/ uteruses to not go forward with the abortion (they are very open with promoting this organization). I stopped paying tithes to them a long time ago, because knowing what I know abt the intricacies of childbirth & what it's like to be LGBTQ+ in particular, I literally cannot support what the church is doing bc I believe its harmful (1)

Today my mom and I were talking about finances and I’ve been in a sort of bind recently because I’ve had to pay off credit cards, one of which I used to pay for repairs to my car & another person’s car when I got into an accident over the summer, plus I still have my biweekly car payments to worry about. I’ve been managing, but I dont really have much money to myself, and because everyone’s out at either work or school, I normally buy food for myself because no one is home to cook. (2)

My mom straight up told me that the reason why I have been broke is b/c I’m not paying tithes, which kind of took me off guard bc I thought it was because I wasnt putting in as much hours for school (I have a two day break on Monday-Tuesday but decided not to put in any extra hours because I didn’t want to overwork myself like last semester + my mental health has been extremely poor). (3)

Since she said that I’ve been in a sort of panic mode, that maybe I won’t be able to be myself in the future and get surgery/HRT and find a suitable partner (I’m an aro/ace trans guy and I desire to be in a qpp with another guy), which has been debilitating because I’ve been seriously struggling with my social skills, and have literally only two friends that I’ve been keeping contact with occasionally, though its difficult because we have all gone on separate paths due to life basically (4)

Anyways this is a super long ask but I felt like it needed context because the fact that I suck as socializing & making friends has affected my self-esteem and mental health to the point where I have thoughts of s*icide, among other things, including flashbacks of traumatic events that I wouldnt have otherwise remembered. Basically I wanted to ask- am I wrong for not paying tithes to this church? Will God punish me for not paying tithes to this church? (5)__________

Hey there, anon. I’m so sorry for the delay in answering this, I’ve been having some mental health issues of my own so I’ve been taking a little break from this blog. I hope that you are hanging in there, and that things might even be looking up for you since you sent this in. 

I’m sorry that you are experiencing so much distress right now; and that your mom’s comments have added to it. I know that money is tight for you right now, but if at all possible, I recommend seeking professional help to guide you through dealing with the flashbacks of traumatic events and all that; some therapists offer sliding scale payment options for patients who need it. I know that’s not what you’re asking about though, so on to tithes.

I 100% think you’re making the right decision not offering your money to this church. You disagree with their ministry and do not see God’s will in it; giving them money would be contributing to those ministries.

People offer tithes (or a smaller fraction of their financial income) to their faith community as an expression of gratitude to God, a willing response to God’s activity in that faith community. You see God’s movement in a community, and you want to be a part of that movement; so you offer financial gifts to keep the movement going. Generosity should never be pressured out of a person, it should never feel like an obligation; if the Holy Spirit is moving you to give, you’ll feel a real desire to give. 

Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 8:11-13 about our financial offerings coming from a place of desire, not obligation: 

“And in this matter I am giving my advice: it is appropriate for you who began last year not only to do something but even to desire to do something—now finish doing it, so that your eagerness may be matched by completing it according to your means. For if the eagerness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has — not according to what one does not have.“ 

That above quote teaches us several things about offerings made to our faith communities, the first of which applies directly to your current situation, while the other two apply to giving in general:

It assures us that we should give what we desire to give – that desire and eagerness will come to us naturally when we truly hear God’s Word read, proclaimed, and acted out. 

The quote also assures us that one only has to give “according to what one has, not according to what one does not have” – so even if you one day find a faith community wherein the Spirit moves you to desire to give, 10% of your current income is probably more than you have to give at the moment, and that’s okay.

Finally, Paul doesn’t specify finances in this quote – what you give to a church whose mission you believe God approves of doesn’t have to be money, especially if money isn’t something you have at the moment. It might be your time or your skills, your voice or your strength, your art or your presence – whatever unique gifts God has given you that you can use for the good of God’s world. 

If you don’t see God’s activity at this church, and thus are not moved to a genuine desire to offer what money you can, don’t do it. God does not oblige us to give money just for the sake of giving it; it’s not a task to check off the list of things you need to do in order to “earn” God’s love or blessing in your life. You don’t have to do a single thing to “earn” God’s love and blessing; God gives these things freely to each of us. 

Sometimes we don’t recognize that love and blessing clearly, because for better or worse God isn’t a micro-manager who swoops in and makes everything work out perfectly in our lives. Instead, humanity’s free will has built up systems that keep many of us poor, many of us oppressed; people who don’t “deserve” to suffer…suffer. Not from any fault of theirs, not because they failed to “earn” God’s help or because they did something to bring God’s punishment on them – but because that’s just the way this world is right now. It hurts people who should be protected. Even so, we trust that God is there – God is there with you in the midst of your distress, your struggles to make ends meet, your pain at the trauma you’re reliving. 

You aren’t broke because you’re not paying tithes; you’re broke because our world is broken and forces students to work long hours on top of keeping up with schoolwork and mental health stuff. I’m so sad and mad on your behalf that you’re stuck in this situation, and I hope things improve really soon.

Friend, I promise you, there will be a future where you’re able to go on hrt, where you are able to live as your full self, where you have friends and a qp partner and where you are happy and loved. There will be a future where you find a faith community that you’re thrilled to give back to, whether that’s your time and talent or your money or all of the above, because you truly see God’s activity in the work they do. It sucks that these things aren’t all true for you here and now, but I believe in that future for you. In the meantime, I promise you: God’s with you, unconditionally. 

[adaydreamersworld]

2019 is hard. Saya selalu berusaha, berusaha dan berusaha untuk simply survive mentally, physically, dan menabung masa depan yang lebih baik. With all I have, all I can do, dan menemukan cara to make things out of nothing.

Sedikit cerita saya membangun sebuah usaha yang awalnya berpondasikan 3 orang. A person left di tahun pertama and another person left di tahun ke dua. No, not my fault if that what you have in mind. As simply as, all of them thought how nice it will be to "own" something, but doesn't wanna carry the responsibility to make it work. So they basically leave because they are simply not an entrepeneur kind of people. So they chose to work in companies instead and that's fine with me.

The thing is, bisnis yang kami bangun adalah bisnis yang membutuhkan 3 orang. So when they left, saya harus hustling mengisi the void they made. He good thing is, month after month, the business get bigger, bit by bit. The bad thing is, artinya more burden to carry for a single person. I become the whole company. Dan buat kalian yang berfikir 'ah, masih banyak kok orang dengan masalah yang lebih besar'. Selamat, you people are toxic positivity. A wise person dalam hidup saya once said, 'masalah yang kecil buat orang lain bisa berarti masalah besar dalam hidup kamu'. That's why people have to be in someone else's shoes to know what they really going through.

Imagine this, I'm 149cm tall yang harus carry an items that sometimes are bigger and taller than me, literally. Imagine all those weight, on my shoulder, on my hand, and trying to walk without scratching everything around me, or scratching my own skin (which mostly happened). Every single week, every single month, i have to do that over and over again. But i'm happy, because i have a dream and i'm eager to learn.

I am the whole company, so basically seletih apapun, saya harus langsung do what the company have to do. Don't say it's easy just because you think so. Imagine this, driving for hours, waiting for hours, carrying heavy weights, coming home late dan masih harus do small things dari uploading photos, making financial report, designing, spending hours and hours to find vendors, dealing with clients, and all other little things, because a those little things have to be done too. No help, just me alone, with my tired mind. Simply because i can't afford to make people do all those stuff for me. But again, i feel fine karena it's my dream, my future on the line.

Carrying out a business of three is fine for me alone, and still possible, i just have to push it harder as the business go bigger and bigger. Just have to sacrifice more time while making sure i get enough sleep karena saya mudah jatuh sakit sedari kecil.

Then comes what harder than all of that, the mental games. Kalimat-kalimat ringan dari teman-teman seperti, "eh lo tuh harusnya gini tau. Yaelah kenapa sih nggak begini begitu" yang harus saya dengarkan over and over again. And i have to smile and explain to then why i cant do that and why i should do this. Tekanan dari keluarga, "kamu tuh harusnya begini begitu." Yang biasanya diakhiri dengan kalimat yang intinya sama, "saya kan orangtua, kamu harus dengarkan orang tua". Over and over and over again. Untuk kalian yang berfikir, "ah biasa kali kaya gitu". Again, either kalian toxic people, atau kalian do that to other people until you think there's nothing wrong with it.

I surrounded by toxic people my whole life. When i was 23, i start to realize that and start to eliminate them one by one from my life. Just for the sake of my my mental health. But toxic people are there, everywhere i go. And it's even harder when it's part of your family member.

Pada pertengahan tahun 2019 kemarin, saya berada di titik ragu dan bingung. Can i do this myself? I'm already this far to give up. Jadi setelah mengumpulkan keberanian saya pun terus menjalani yang harus saya jalani. And simply hope for the best. At the end of 2019, usaha saya sedikit demi sedikit mulai berbuah hasil. Pekerjaan yang datang semakin banyak. Letih dan kewalahan pasti, tapi saya tidak mau menyerah. I put every money, every time, every sweat, turning down another job offer for this. For something i can call my own.

And then suddenly, a family drama happened. Out of the blue. And im really tired. And im really sick of it. Saya berada di posisi dimana saya ditekan dan dipaksa to endure a stupid conversation, day and night, just so a family member can fill their curiousity with answer that not even their own business. They create dramas dimana mereka tidak menyadari bahwa hal bodoh ini berakibat besar kepada saya mentally, and more importantly to my business. It's funny how people say that they want us to be happy but they become the source of my sadness. They push me over and over again and telling me i am weak if i cant survive. Disaat saya berusaha untuk tidak menjadi orang yang 'gagal', justru keluarga sayalah yang menjadi sumber yang memberikan pemikiran bahwa saya adalah orang yang akan gagal just because i dont want to be pushed by them. To the cliff.. yes.. to the cliff. If you think, "i do this for you. To protect you. You have to listen to me because im your parents." Think again, is your ego as a parent that see thing as; in conclusion: 'im your parent and youre the kid, you cant say things to me but you have to listen to all my negativity' worth killing me mentally by the stress i have to endure every single day, while i have to also fight for my future and dealing with my social life? Mental abuse is as strong physical abuse. Some parents and any other of their generation just dont want to see that and think it is just weakness. I could cry and pour my heart out and my parent still wont listen. Their ego is bigger than their heart even after seeing their children's cry.

That concludes the end of my 2019. And for 2020, i just wish to find more people like me, people with more mental awareness and less negativity to be around. Because expecting people to change is sometimes hopeless. Especially when it's your family.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Star Crossed Rivalry: Part 5

Pairings: Opie x Reader (SOA/TWD MC AU Crossover ) Negan daughter!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Violence

Word Count: 4,211

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Look at my little chunker.” You cooed as you held your 9 pound 8 ounce, and twenty-one and a quarter inches long son in your arms. “My little chunky boy that ruined mommy’s pussy forever and ever…”

“Babe!” Opie laughed as he sat beside you on the bed, holding the two loves of his life in his arms. 

“You’re gunna be tall like your daddy.” You said as you laid your head on Opie’s chest with a smile you never thought was going to fade. “And just as handsome as him, too. You’re going to be a handsome little man, Hunter. I know it.”

“He has your nose, Mama.” Opie said as he smiled at the cooing boy in your arms. “And your smile…”

“No, that’s your smile, Daddy.” You said as you brushed your thumb across Hunter’s cheek as he looked up at you with Opie’s hazel eyes. “And your eyes. Fuck, could he be anymore perfect?”

“Not fucking possible.” Negan said as he knocked softly on your hospital room door with his knuckle. You smiled up at him as he held up a light blue stuffed teddy bear with a handmade Saviors kutte on it. “First fucking present.”

“You’re such a softy.” You said as you let Opie take Hunter from your arms. “Thank you, grandpa.”

“Fuck off.” He chuckled as he closed the room door behind him partially and tossed the bear on your bed. “Pop. That’s what I am.” You nodded your head and smiled as he carefully took his grandson from your fiancé. “Michonne and Rick are out in the waiting room. Same with Jax and Piney, who looks about as white as a fucking ghost.”

“That’s just Piney.” Ope said as he picked up the bear and put it in Hunter’s clear sided bassinet. “He’s always pale as fuck.”

“Told ‘em to wait until I made sure you were ready for company. And I wanted this little Satan spawn all to myself.”

“You’re an ass!” You laughed as he sat down on the couch that ran under the windows on the far side of the room.

“I hope, for your sake, he’s just as much as a fucking monster child as you were. Then you’ll see what your mother and I had to fucking deal with.”

“And just because you said that, he’s going to be a perfect little angel.” You teased with a smile. “Baby, can you hand me my make up bag? I’ll at least run a damn brush through my hair or something.”

“Damn, you were fucking right about this one.” Your dad said as he jostled your son the slightest bit. “This is one big fucking boy.”

“Will you leave him alone?” Opie laughed as he handed you your bag. “I packed that dress thing you were looking at in the store. The lady said it was the best thing during her hospital stay, and it was worth the money.”

“Oh my God, I fucking love you.” You said as you pulled the soft, pink wrap around nursing gown you had been kicking yourself all week for not buying out of your bag. You looked up at him with a happy pout as you held the dress to your chest. “Best fiancé ever.”

“I try.” He said as he came over to help you up out of bed so you could change in the bathroom. 

“You two are fucking disgusting.” Your dad said with a shake of his head. “Yea, your Mommy and Daddy are fucking disgustingly in love.”

“God, shut up.” You groaned as you stepped into the bathroom. “Get your baby love in fast, Pop. You’re about to have to share him with a whole lotta people.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were used to the Sanctuary being crowded for Halloween but no where like this. It was as if every member of every charter was there with their kids, ready to welcome the new Saviors Prince to the world. The moment you got out of your truck beside your fiancé with your carseat on your arm, the parking lot erupted into cheers.

“OK, OK!” You laughed as you held your hand up to silence the masses. “My kid is thankfully a quite baby, but I don’t want to test the theory!”

“I call dibs on the first helping of baby love.” Michonne said as she came over to you with a giant smile in her Princess Leia costume. “I love the spots.”

“Just wait for it.” You said as you set your car seat on the little stage. “Introducing Hunter Winston, my little chunkster puppy.” Michonne ‘aw’ed’ as you pulled back the blanket to show off your currently sleeping son, who you knew would wake up the moment he got picked up. “I should have made him a monkey so he’d be a chunky monkey.”

“Oh, that’d be too perfect.” She said as you unsnapped the carseat and carefully picked your three and a half week old son, up. His eyes flew open, and looked around as you carefully laid him down in the crook of Michonne’s arms.

“He’s an angel child.” You said as you grabbed his Dalmatian ear beanie out of your diaper bag to go with his onesie and the black eyeliner dot you drew on his and your noses. “He doesn’t really cry, he sleeps like four hours at a time at night, eats like a champ, obviously. But it’s still so much work.”

“We got lucky as hell.” Opie said with a nod as he handed you a bottle of water. “Even if Negan tried to curse us.”

“He’s beautiful, (Y/N).” She cooed as she offered Hunter her finger. He cooed back and wrapped his pudgy hands around her slender finger.

“Is this the future King biker?” Rick teased as he came over to say hi.

“Not happening.” You and Opie said simultaneously as he lit a cigarette for you and gently pulled you back away from your son by your spotted dress covered shoulder.

“We got him for a minute.” Michonne said with a smile as she passed off Hunter to her husband. “Take a smoke break. Go mingle for a bit.” You nodded your head as you took a long drag of your cigarette and glanced over at Maggie, who was coming over to say hi and get some baby love as well. You smiled at her and walked the couple feet over to her as Hunter was passed off to Carol next. 

“How are you two liking being parents?” She asked as she kissed your cheek.

“It’s a lot.” Opie chuckled as he grabbed a chair for you and Maggie from a near by crafts table. “Don’t get me wrong. We really do have an angel but I don’t think I have every worried about every little thing before in my life.”

“Poor Creature has no idea what to do with Hunter.” You chuckled. “And I’ve been keeping him in his bassinet not his crib because I’m too scared I won’t hear him downstairs…”

“OK, there’s nothing wrong with that.” Maggie chuckled. “Hershel stayed in a bassinet until he was six and a half months old. There is nothing wrong with that. And I know you have a baby monitor since I bought it for you. That one is super loud when you have it on. I could hear Hershel fart through it like he was sitting right next to me. What else?” You glanced at Opie, who you knew had a shit load of concerns neither of you wanted to ask your doctor out of embarrassment, before looking back at Maggie.

“OK, sometimes he wont latch on.” Opie nodded as he grabbed a chair for himself, and sat down beside you.

“Do you eventually stop worrying that he’s just gunna up and die?”

“Are we gunna turn into our parents?”

“Is there anything I can really do at night to help? I feel shitty just fucking laying there and watching her breastfeed.”

“And what about baby shots? I know we’re along way off, but these past three weeks has already flew by. Are they safe? Can your doctor spread them out more?”

“Ok, whoa.” Maggie laughed as she held her hand up to stop your rant. “Slow down, take a deep breath and let’s start from the beginning. Have you not talked to your doctor about this?” You shook your head, and looked over at Hunter as your dad showed him off to a few patches from the Orlando Florida charter.

“You know as well as I do how embarrassing some of this shit it.” You said as you reached into Opie’s firefighter’s jacket and grabbed his cigarettes since yours were in your diaper bag. “It’s easier to ask someone that’s family.”

“Alright.” She agreed as Carol came over to say hi as well. “We got a lot of mom’s here so we’ve got a lot of collective experience. Let’s start at the beginning…”

——

“He fall asleep?” Ope asked as you walked back into the main room after feeding your son, and getting him down for a nap. You nodded your head and pulled back the cloth of your carrier to show him Hunter.

“Fed, changed, and in jammies.” You said with a nod. “I probably should have wiped off his little nose before I breast fed but whatever.”

“You live and you learn.” He said as he leaned down to kiss his son’s forehead.

“Cops, cops, cops!” Ezekiel roared as he stuck his head in from outside. You didn’t hesitate in grabbing Opie’s hand, and yanking him down the hall you just came from.

“Where…?” He asked as you turned a corner, making sure you held Hunter to your chest so he wouldn’t jostle awake, and make noise in your haste. You shushed Ope as you turned into the president suite and shut the door behind you both.

“Help me with this. I need two hands to move it.” You said as you walked quickly over to a large mirror on the wall beside the bed. “The handle is right here, and it swings open.”

“Oh, shut up.” He said as he put his hand on top of yours to find the latch and the handle. “You have a secret door…”

“Yes, and if you move faster, we can be behind it before the cops come.” You said shortly as he pulled the door open. You dipped past him into the small surveillance room and started to flip switches to turn on the monitors for the cameras hidden around the factory.

“Does it lock?” Opie asked as he pulled the mirror back into place. You nodded and flipped another switch, sending three, unseen, stainless steel bolts from the back of the door into the wall to hold it in place. “Well fuck.”

“My dad made this room when we first bought the Sanctuary.” You said as you sent Negan a coded text to his personal line. “He and I are the only people who know it exist for this exact reason.”

“What does that mean?” He asked as he looked at the text.

“PR means panic room, and OH(i) are the three of our initials.” You looked up at the monitors at the main room of the club, where friends and family of the club were all laying face down on the floor. Feeling his phone ring in his kutte and knowing it was you, Negan looked directly at the hidden camera and closed his eyes in a long blink. With a sigh, you sat down in the computer chair and checked on your son, who was thankfully still fast asleep. “Swear to God this kid could sleep through a hurricane then a tornado before going to a football game.” Opie huffed as he sat down in your old beanbag chair with a sigh.

“Well I guess I can say thanks for loving me.” He chuckled as you watched the DEA, the ATF, and the local and state police executed a search warrant on the building. 

“You’re a goon.” You giggled as you watched family member after family member get put into cuffs, and carted out to the waiting transport vans. You sighed again as your dad was put in the back of the van as well, when a lone motorcycle pulled down the road toward the end of the road. “Son of a bitch.” You said as you sat up and expanded that view to take up one of the four monitors in the room.

“What the fuck is Clay doing here?” Opie asked as he got up and came over to get a closer look. You shook your head subtly as movement on the screen next to the one you were watching caught your attention. Your jaw dropped and you stood up slowly as you watched one of the DEA agents uncuff Dwight and let him walk away.

“Oh, you mother fucker.” You said as you minimized the screen with Clay to watch the long driveway. “Fuck, he’s a fucking rat.” You glanced over at Opie and the slight furrow of his brow before reaching up to tap the screen to explain. “The Saviors make a run six times a year for their product. Negan and Rick are the only ones who know the exact date but the run is almost always the week before Halloween. None of the other members know the exact date, they just come to town exactly a week before and wait until my dad tells them to wake up and go. But this year, because of Hunter, my dad pushed it.” You tapped Dwight’s head, wishing you could kill him in that moment, as he stood talking to Clay at the end of the road, not realizing that he had been made. 

“Dwight set this up with the Sons, not realizing my dad changed the date. Because usually, by now, this place is full with enough weed to put every single person in here away.” You both fell dead silent for a moment as the main room door flew open and a state officer and an AFT agent started to tear the room apart. You continued to shake your head and watch Dwight until the agents left the now destroyed bedroom and your upturned baby carrier and diaper bag.

“Is this recording?” Opie whispered as he watched Clay leave, and Dwight slink into the shadows. 

“Always.” You said with a nod as you turned in your chair to find a blank disc to make a copy of it for your dad. “You can’t say anything to anyone, baby.” You reminded him as you turned around to look at him. “Not even Jax. Not yet. We have to wait for my dad, first and we’ll move from there.” Opie sighed and nodded his head as he went back over and sat down on the bean bag.

“I know.” He breathed as he pulled off his scrubbed his hand down his face. “Fuck, I know.” You looked over at him, sorrowfully and shook your head.

“This is the down side to falling in love with the enemy, baby. I’m really, really sorry.”

“It’s not you, baby girl.” He said as he reached out for your hand. “It’s the beast that is our life. But I walked away from my club for a reason. And that reason is sitting in front of me, cradling my other reason to stay out.” You smiled weakly as he pulled on your hand until you got up from your chair. With a huff, you stood up and very carefully sat down so that he could hold both you and Hunter until all the cops left and it was safe to come out of the panic room.

“I love you, Ope.” You said as you laid your head on his shoulder and made sure Hunter was up right, not smooshed, and comfortably still sound asleep.

“I love you, too baby.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You been sitting here all night?” Your dad asked as he walked over from his house early the next morning. You picked your head up off the rocking chair and shook your head as you slowly pushed yourself back and forth.

“You know my MO, Daddy.” You said as you picked up the slightly cooled cup of coffee, and passed it off to him. 

“Thanks, baby girl.” He sighed as he flopped down in the rocker next to you. “Where’s Hunter?”

“Inside sleeping with Ope.” You said as you picked up your laptop, and hit the spacebar to wake it up. “We got a rat.” Negan’s brow furrowed as he put his coffee down, and took the laptop from you with a sigh. He hit play, and picked up his coffee again as you went back to rocking.

“Son of a fucking bitch.” He groaned as he watched the video. You nodded your head, and grabbed your coffee off the table. 

“Ope gets that we have to go after SAMCRO. I get it, too. It’s just…”

“He wants Jax, and his fucking dad out first.” Negan finished for you as he closed your laptop and leaned back in his rocker. “(Y/N), how fucking sure are you that they aren’t fucking part of this?”

“I’m not.” You said with a look over at him. “I have no fucking idea. But I trust my fiancé. And he trusts Jax and Piney. So I trust them enough to know that getting them out before you go in is worth something.” Negan nodded as he finished his coffee.

“Let me talk to Ope.” He said as he looked into his empty cup. “Fuck, you need to teach Frankie how to fucking make coffee.”

“No.” You said before you finished your cup, looked at the time on your phone, and took your laptop and empty coffee mugs back. “Ope will be up any minute. Go shower, though. You smell like jail.”

“You’re such a pleasant little fucker in the mornings.” Negan said as you both got up and headed in different directions.

“I get from you.” You called out over your shoulder as you walked in to your living room just as Opie was coming down with your whining son. “I got him, baby.” He nodded his head as he continued down the stairs almost in a daze.

“Did you sit out there since four?” He asked as he waited for you to put what was in your hands, down. You nodded your head as you took Hunter from his arms.

“I worry about him, you know?” You said as you walked around the couch and sat down while pulling up one of Opie’s wife beaters that you slept in to feed your son. “He has no one else but me, and Frankie is so self involved she wouldn’t know her ass from her elbow when it comes to anything of use.” You looked up at him as he stepped out on to the back porch to let Creature out, and stood just outside the door so he could smoke his morning cigarette. “Someone’s gotta take care of him, Ope. He does so much for everyone else…”

“I know, baby.” He said with a nod. “I don’t blame you on that. Just… well, next time, can you sit inside the house, and wait like a normal person does?”

“Opie, you and I both know I am no where near fucking sane, thank you.”

“True.” He agreed with a smirk. You flipped him off as Creature walked past him back into the house, and trotted over to join you on the couch. You said hi to him as he walked in a circle twice before curling up into a ball against your hip, and going back to sleep with a snort.

“Dad wants to talk to you.” You informed your husband as he kicked the rock aside and came back into the house. “He’ll probably be back over for breakfast if you wanna jump in the shower. I’ll do French toast, bacon, and eggs for breakfast when Hunter finishes.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He said as he came over and gave you an upside down, chaste kiss. “Good morning, baby.”

“Good morning, my love.”

——

Opie and Negan sat across from each other at your dinner table, the former watching your son in his vibrating baby swing that he loved so much, and scolding Creature when he tried to crawl up in the seat to cuddle with ‘his’ baby like he so desperately wanted to. Negan watched his grandson, trying to figure out exactly how he wanted to word his questions, while you made breakfast.

“I need you to be fucking honest with me, Opie.” He started as he ran his middle ringer around the rim of his coffee mug. “Brutally fucking honest.” You and your fiancé both looked over at him as he pulled his brown eyes away from his grandson and up to Opie. “Say (Y/N) and Hunter are kidnapped tomorrow…”

“Dad!” You shrieked but he held his hand up to stop you, refusing to take his eyes off your fiancé.

“You and I are killed in the fight. Who in SAMCRO do you fucking trust, without a fucking shadow of a doubt, with their lives.” Your fiancé sat up straight, confused and stunned at the question.

“Jax.” He said after a moment with a slight nod of his head. “He’d raise Hunter as his own, watch out and take care of (Y/N). But he wouldn’t walk away from the Sons to do it. The club is his fucking life. I do know though, that he and Clay have completely different opinions on the club’s path. Which is why I can say my old man, and a guy named Chibs would be on that list as well. He and Piney would side with Jax any day of the fucking week. The rest of the club…” He sighed as he ran his fingers through his loose, shoulder length hair. “The rest of the fucking club are loyal to the club. Which means they’re loyal to whoever sits behind that gavel.” Negan nodded his head slowly as you walked over two full plates, and set them down on the table.

“So who do you think is the fucking mastermind behind last nights bullshit?” He asked as he pulled his plate in front of him but didn’t touch it otherwise. 

“That’s got fucking Clay all over it.” Opie said as you came over to top of their coffee mugs, and set your plate down. “Clay is a conniving monster. He’ll sign his fucking soul to the fucking devil if it meant keeping his president patch. If I had to venture a guess, he was the one that made a fucking deal with ATF after your guy found him. I’d say his fucking right hand, Tig had something to do with that shit, too. Fucker hates me.” Negan nodded again as he picked up his coffee mug and took a drink, buying his time to really think his next question through.

“You didn’t turn your fucking back on my daughter, did you?” He asked seriously, hating that he even hard to.

“Never.” Opie said as you growled at your dad around a mouth full of French toast and freshly cut strawberries and banana slices. “She’s the love of my life, my future wife, and the mother of my son. I’d lose every fucking appendage I have then take a fucking bullet before I betrayed her. And that means you as well, since you’re her father. Betraying you hurts her, and I will be no fucking part of that.” Negan nodded his head again, and finally picked up his fork, apparently satisfied with Opie’s answers.

“Call the three. You two are getting married.” Negan said as he gestured toward the swing with his fork. “And get the fucking dog out of the fucking swing.” You and Opie both looked over at Hunter, who was still sound asleep, and Creature, who had managed to crawl up half way on the chair with his back legs and right leg hanging off the edges, and fell asleep so that his body was just barely touching Hunter, but his head was resting protectively above Hunter’s little head.

“Oh, my God that’s the cutest fucking thing.” You said as you got up to grab your phone from the counter.

“Cute or not, he can’t be up on the swing.” Opie said as he finally cut into his own French toast.

“Oh, he’s fine.” You said as you took a few pictures. “It’s his baby, too.”

“Don’t start that shit again, babe.” Opie said around a mouthful of food. “He’s a dog.” You turned around, and stuck your tongue out at Opie with a small sneer.

“They are brothers, and the faster you accept that, the happier I will be.”

“I had the same fight with her mother about our fucking mutt.” Negan said as he purposely kept his eyes down on his plate. “I fucking lost.”

“You’re not fucking helping.” Opie said as you sat back down with a giant smile.

“So when are our sons walking us down the aisle?”

“Shut up, (Y/N)!” Opie snapped as Negan snorted a laugh.

Part 6

[conspiraships]

🌹 SRY I CANT THINK OF A F/O

🌹 - Beauty and the Beast AU

was originally gonna write Gale/Andy but then i remembered stupit bitch Krycek exists and that’s what’s gonna happen. ill write Gale/Andy l8r … but for now… Mercy/Krycek … this is rlly long … oopsie (4,962 words)

“there’s a monster in the woods, Alex” his mother used to say. “it lurks, waiting for disobedient little boys who won’t go to bed on time”

“like, it’s just sitting in the woods, waiting?”

“oh for fucks sake, Alex. just go to bed please. im begging you.”

“i want milk”

“fine”

of course no one believes the stories about the monster in the woods. it’s just because their town is surrounded by thick, tight woods with very few paths in and out of it. but there’s nothing but wolves, moose, wild animals living there. it’s dark, deep, unwelcoming, but there’s no monsters.

and even when his mother went missing when he was 13, Alexei Krycek refused to believe it was anything like a monster. her horse went missing too, and he knew for a fact that it meant the wolves got them. (that didn’t ease the hurt. his mother was gone, and he was only 13. he didn’t know how to live without her at 13. but it wasnt a monster in the woods who took her from him.)

he still doesnt believe in monsters even when the Man Who Smokes Too Much takes him in, and the Man Who Smokes Too Much’s eldest son is absolutely CONVINCED that there ARE monsters in the woods who WILL come for everyone in the town unless they’re all very kind to nature.

Alex finds a reprieve in Jeffrey, the youngest Spender son. they grow close, and when the Man Who Smokes Too Much dies, Jeffrey and Alex are the ones who start to find work while Fox spends his time buried in books, studying, and reading about the mind and mythical

“Jeffrey you can’t go now,” Fox says one day. they’re all well into their twenties and Fox can’t hold a job he likes because everyone knows him as the boy with his nose in his books, the boy who used to leave out picnic baskets for the Monsters even though there was a food shortage.

“Fox.” Jeffrey and Alex say it in the same tone and Fox grins at them both but he sobers up when Jeffrey keeps packing. “i have to go,” Jeffrey says. “if i dont, we could lose the house. and out of all of us, Fox, you need this house the most”

“Jeffrey … there have been several cases of missing persons between us and-”

“if they arent traveling right, they are going to attract wolves,” Alex says. “we learned that from your father.”

“i’m still pretty sure the monster in the woods took him,” Fox says disdainfully

“grow up,” says Jeffrey. “you want me to bring back anything specific from the city?”

“actually,” Fox says before Alex can say anything, “remember those roses he brought us…”

“the day your mother died?” Jeffrey and Fox exchange a sad smile and Alex is reminded that he doesnt fit in with them. hes not part of them. he’s not a Spender or a Mulder. he’s a Krycek. his father never smoked more than enough for three people and his mother used to tell him fairy tales that would make Fox explode with happiness.

Jeffrey leaves, and Fox goes back to psychoanalyzing everyone in the town and keeping up with as many detective cases as he can. Alex works.

Alex works, and works, and works until Jeffrey doesn’t come home. it’s not the monster, he tells himself as he packs up supplies to go search for Jeffrey (or, more realistically, his body and his horse probably half eaten by wolves). the monster was a bedtime story for everyone in the town. (Fox disagreed, and gave him a spray bottle of something that smelled of lemon and onions to ‘keep the monster away’)

Alex takes his horse to go look for Jeffrey. halfway between Foxhunt and the city, he finds Jeffrey’s horse with her reins snagged on a tree. she makes a break for it as soon as Alex sets her free, but he has hope. maybe Jeffrey is alive after all. he follows a small broken path next to the tree he found Jeffrey’s horse trapped on, but the deeper into the woods he goes, the darker and colder it gets.

wolves howl. but he knows its wolves, and not monsters.

“God dammit Fox,” Alex snarls, directing his horse down the path, toward the wolf howls.

when he breaks into a clearing, his lips are blue. but in the clearing is… not a house, but a mansion. it’s not even close to being a castle, but it’s too large to be a simple house. no lights are on but the door is open. if anything, it’s a place to warm up if it’s abandoned

(it’s not. and Alex hates himself for a while after he walks in there. he finds Jeffrey, gets him out, but gets knocked out before he can join Jeffrey. he hates himself when he wakes up in a room lushly decorated. silk curtains, a thick plush carpet, soft cotton sheets and an ornate comforter. he hates himself for enjoying the rest for once, not having to share a room with Jeffrey, sleeping on a twin bed that’s too old and uncomfortable. he hates himself)

Mercy is irritated.

not one, but two people have invaded their home in the last 48 hours. they let the first one, Jeffrey, go. but Alex? he actually came into their house. he didn’t rob their garden, that they can forgive. they’re roses. their mother loved roses, and their mother probably would have forgiven someone for taking her roses after a few days. but Alex… Alexei… he walked into their home without permission. they don’t like that very much at all.

“you should really let him go…”

“Monica,” Mercy warns.

“it’s going a bit far,” says Monica. “maybe just… i dont know, make him pay you or something? but locking him up?”

“i gave him Mom’s room. the door doesn’t lock, so he’s not exactly a prisoner.”

“if he feels like one, it’s the same thing,” John points out.

“I hate both of you please get the fuck out of my living room.”

they don’t raise their voice, but the cutting glare they send them and the way they bare their teeth, fangs glinting in the firelight, send John and Monica from the room. Mercy pretends they can’t hear their whispering and heads upstairs to deal with their… Guest

he screams when they walk in, and Mercy can’t help but look over themself. they hven’t looked in a mirror in years (Monica covered them up long ago) but Monica brushes their hair. and their fur. and makes them take baths regularly. but they are wearing some of John’s clothing. maybe that’s what’s alarming.

“what the FUCK are you?!” Alex shouts, putting the bed between the two of them.

wow. wow. just wow. so Mercy grins, baring their teeth. their fangs, prominent and long, make Alex recoil. “I’m the Monster in the Woods,” they say with a dangerous growl. “and you have trespassed onto my property.”

(they hate themself for taking pride in the fear and disbelief that seem to cross his face. he recoils further, and he can’t look at them for days. he doesn’t leave their mother’s room, and John tells them that he eats only the bread and drinks only the water they give him. they hate themself for loving the power they have over people. and they hate the disappointed look Monica gives them whenever they revel in frightening him)

“Monster.”

“I have a name, darling.”

“I’m leaving, Monster. and if I never come back, it would be too soon.”

“cute that you think you can escape me.”

(he doesn’t leave. they’re human enough that sometimes he’s not scared of them, but there are times where their fur stands on end and their hair swirls in the air around them and their eyes take on a terrifying yellow color and their fangs seem to grow, and Alex Krycek cannot move past them when that happens. and they always seem to stake out the door whenever he wants to leave)

(”Mercy,” Monica says in disappointment.

“he’s not free yet. he doesn’t know how violated he made me feel.”

“maybe you like having him around,” Monica offers, flinching when Mercy’s hair starts to swirl around them and their eyes turn yellow.

“why would i enjoy the presence of a human, Monica? why would i keep him around? let him stay? he is being punished.”

“your mother was a human.”

“and humans killed her. and now i am this.”

Monica can’t argue that.)

“Doggett,” begins Alex as John sets down a tray of food. “why do you stay here?”

John looks surprised, and sits on the bed beside Alex. “Eat,” he orders. “Mercy is…”

“Mercy?” Alex asks sharply.

“the Monster. Their name is Mercy. they are… lonely. we stay because we love them. and Monica and i know deep loneliness. when we found Mercy, they were halfway between human and beast, curled up in the rose garden. we were drawn off the trails by their sobs. they lost their mother when they were very young to hunters who mistook their foraging mother for some kind of animal.” Alex looks stricken, but John continues speaking. “Mercy … attacked him, as best we can figure. they didn’t kill them, but the hunters went back to their town with injuries.”

Alex dips his bread in his soup and asks, “why are they a monster now?”

“if you didn’t believe in monsters, Alex, i don’t know if you will believe they were cursed.” Alex snorts. “exactly. but one of the hunters had married a witch who cursed them. she cursed them to become the beast the hunters thought their mother was, and to be the beast they seemed to attack like.”

“a curse,” Alex repeats in disbelief.

John shrugs and stands from the bed. “believe it or not, but you cannot deny the face of the beast that keeps you from leaving, Krycek.”

“you have a rose garden.” it’s a statement, not a question, and Mercy laughs aloud, their eyes bright with amusement.

“do i?” they tease.

“i want to see it.”

“and i want my home to return to a private dwelling with no trespassers.” they return their gaze to her book. “we can’t have what we want, Krycek.” they’re not going to show the man who only calls them ‘monster’ and not their name their most sacred spot. he doesnt deserve it if he cant acknowledge them.

“show me the rose garden, Mercy.”

they stand behind him stiffly, and he notes that they don’t look at the roses. their gaze is firmly toward the sky. Alex could make a break for it, but the roses…

for a … monster who won’t look at the roses, they are tended to quite well.

“why is this bush missing roses?” he asks. a shudder runs through him at their disgusted scoff.

“perhaps you should have asked why i was being so cruel to Jeffrey.”

“actually,” Fox says before Alex can say anything, “remember those roses he brought us…”

“the day your mother died?” Jeffrey and Fox exchange a sad smile

“ah.”

Alex ran his fingers over the stems that were missing roses. was Fox’s mother worth this? his mother … Mercy’s mother… perhaps they both were, in their ways. if Alex’s mother had loved roses, he would understand the sacrifice Jeffrey was making for his brother.

“they’ll grow back.” Alex flinches at the sudden proximity of Mercy’s voice. to his credit, he doesnt hiss when one of the rose thorns snags his palm but he does grimace at the blood. “let me see.” his body tenses when Mercy’s … hand… definitely a hand, even though they are covered in fur like a wolf with claws to boot, comes up behind his to hold his fingers open.

“it’s a cut,” he says flatly.

“come inside. we’ll get it cleaned up and wrapped.”

“you will do that for me?”

“please. I’m not a monster.”

he may keep the cut open longer than strictly healthy. but Mercy’s hands that look so monstrous bandage him so gentle and their eyes glow yellow in concentration, their tongue sticking out of their not-quite-mouth-not-quite-muzzle in a way that Alex wouldn’t call… cute, but it’s cute.

they tell him stories of their childhood after re-wrapping his hand. they speak with a fond sadness that Alex knows all too well. he lost his mother when he was young as well, and he has something of a found family too.

Mercy tells him how their mother taught them about plants, for survival, for food, and just for knowing.they tell him how their mother took them into the forest to help her forage and how once they encountered an elk so tall they thought he was a monster at first, and how he stared at them with eyes too wise, knowing they wouldn’t hurt him.

he learns about the constellations from them. they tell him how their mother showed them the stars, and that night Mercy takes him to the roof of the mansion and shows him the stars the way their mother did.

they show him some of the techniques their mother had for woodworking and they build a small bird house together.

when Alex’s hand is healed and no longer needs bandaged, Alex tells them about his own mother. they snort derisively over his mother’s stories of the monster in the woods (but for different reasons), but Mercy is enthralled with his mother’s other stories. Alex tells them which herbs his mother favored in her cooking, and how much he misses that. he tells them how he used to brush her hair and how she would run her fingers through his and sing him to sleep.

they both remember their mothers with a fond sadness.

and Alex no longer fears them, because he knows she isn’t the monster in the woods.

“come with me.”

“excuse me?”

“did i stutter, Krycek?” Mercy demands. he tenses, ready for their fur to stand on end or their hair to swirl around them but it doesn’t. they just look… impatient. not mad, just impatient. Alex heaves a great sigh and climbs out of his bed. he wasn’t doing anything, but having them treat him like a dog can become grating.

“where are we going?” he asks when they lead him from the room. they don’t answer, but lead him through the mansion to a room he’d never been to before. (in all fairness he’d never been to many rooms in the mansion.)

“here” Mercy says with a smirk. they push open both of the double doors dramatically and Alex rolls his eyes, stepping into the room after them. “it’s … it was mine and my mother’s. she was an avid book collector. so… was i.”

Alex stills as he looks around the room. it’s not as massive as a public library or a rich prince’s personal library might be, but there are several floor-to-ceiling shelves stocked with books. crammed is a more accurate descriptor. its… amazing. Fox would be jealous, and thats all the motivation Alex needs to approach the nearest bookshelf.

“you can come here whenever you want. i…” Mercy hesitates when Alex looks away from the shelves and to them. “i understand that it’s quite boring here. i… would let you go but because it’s winter… i don’t want you getting hurt on the road.”

a sneer crosses Alex’s face. “its not like i have anything to get back on.”

Mercy’s fingers twitch and whatever openness they’d shown him vanished, a darkness settling in their eyes and a scowl spreading over their not-quite-muzzle. “John has been taking care of your horse in the stables. when the snow melts, i’ll have John and Monica pack you supplies and send you off.”

“…wait. what?” Alex tracks them as they walk over to a bookshelf and piles a few books in their arms.

“you can leave when the weather is better. John and Monica will take care of you.” they give Alex a cruel look. “you don’t have to deal with a monster anymore.”

they leave while Alex is still processing what they said

(when he asks after them, John and Monica can only shrug. not even they’ve seen the monster… Mercy. they’re eating. John tells Alex that they take the meals they leave for them, but they don’t leave their room as far as they can tell.)

Alex spends most of his time in the library. Mercy’s collection isn’t as big as the town’s library, but it’s incredibly diverse, and he’s only found about ten books that overlap with what he’s already read.

he’s so involved in studying psychology books that Fox would salivate over that he doesn’t realize the time or that he’s exhausted. but he wakes up with a pillow instead of a book under his head an a thick blanket wrapped around him, his books off to the side with clear bookmarks.

John and Monica swear up and down that they didn’t go into the library after Monica took his dishes from dinner away.

(Alex thinks the blanket might smell like Mercy, but he doesn’t know what smells like them and what just smells like the house.)

he sees them once before the snow melts, and it’s from the library window that looks out over part of the rose garden. some of the roses started dying, but Alex was no botanist, so he wouldn’t be able to offer to help Mercy even if they were speaking to him.

Mercy stood in knee high snow, no coat but seemingly unfazed by the cold. their head was bowed as they held a rose in their hands. the bush was completely empty except for the one Mercy stood over so reverently. Alex watched them until they moved away from the rose, leaving it swaying in the wind.

the day the snow melts, Alex pretends to be asleep all day. he listens as John and Monica discuss what else he’d need as they packed up his few belongings (mainly borrowed clothes from John he insisted he didn’t need anyway).

Mercy didn’t come through at all. the next day, it rained and Alex used it as an excuse not to go. he went out and brushed his horse but didn’t leave.

the third day after the snow melted, Jeffrey shows up with Fox in tow.

they pound on Mercy’s front door, but they don’t show their face. Jeffrey yells at Monica and John, and Fox asks an absurd amount of questions that his host’s family can’t keep up with.

“Jeffrey said there is a monster,” Fox says when he sees Alex. Alex clutches his pack tightly, the psychology book he’d stowed away pressing into his stomach.

“it was enormous,” Jeffrey agrees. “with fangs like a wolf’s… claws! not quite a muzzle but not a human nose either! covered head to toe in fur!”

Alex snorts. “it’s not like you, Jeffrey,” he says. “to buy into Fox’s shit.”

“it’s not shit,” Fox snaps.

“and you know i’m right,” Jeffrey spits. “i saw it when i left this place. you’ve been here all winter, and you’re telling me you haven’t seen it?”

John shifts, a scowl on his face. Monica’s expression is carefully blank but three months in their company taught Alex how to spot how Monica felt. and she is angry. (had she been so angry when Alex first met them? he didn’t know.)

“ive only seen these two.” Alex gestures to the humans next to him and raises a brow when Jeffrey opens his mouth to argue. “why would i lie about something like this? if there was a monster, i would have seen it by now. but i’ve only seen people.”

he misses the dubious looks John and Monica exchange, but doesn’t miss the looks Fox and Jeffrey exchange. any further pushing gets the same results from Alex. a willing silence, secretive and cold.

“he protected you”

“he still left.”

“but he didn’t let those men try to hurt you.”

“he still left.”

“Mercy.”

“he left! he’s gone and he’s not coming back. get out! get out get out get out get out get out!”

“Alex, come inside. you’ll catch cold.”

“that’s fine.”

“you’ve been out here since dinner. Fox and i are worried about you. you come out here every goddamn night, ever since we came back. Alex, what the hell is going on?”

Alex points at the sky and traces his finger along a particular path. “Corona Borealis,” he says.

“what the ever loving hell are you talking about, Krycek?”

“it’s a constellation, Spender. created when, after Dionysus fell in love with Ariadne, Ariadne threw her wedding crown into the sky. the jewels of the crown are said to be the stars of Corona Borealis.”

Jeffrey scowled at him. “you sound like Fox.”

“leave me alone, Jeffrey.”

mid spring, about a month after the snow melted, a caravan comes through, absolutely demolished. they claim to have been assaulted by a monster in the woods.

with an ‘I-Told-You-So’ expression on his face, Jeffrey uses this as an opportunity to prove that he was right and arranges a hunting party to find and kill this monster in the woods.

Alex can’t deny it when he sees the wagon destroyed and several people injured, one person even missing an arm. there is a monster in the woods, and he thinks he knows who it is.

(he’s unaware of Fox following him when he sneaks out that night, somehow oblivious to the second set of horse hoof beats an horse snuffling)

“Alex Krycek,” greets John when he opens the door to cease Alex’s pounding.

“where are they?” Alex demands. John sighs, but doesn’t try to play dumb.

“in the rose garden.”

Alex storms out of the mansion, still oblivious to Fox entering the clearing. he doesn’t see Fox and John speaking, too focused on finding Mercy. the monster.

he believes the caravan and her people when he sees Mercy watering their roses. the not-muzzle has elongated into a full and proper muzzle and their lower half has become wolf-like. an impossibly terrifying bipedal wolf-human beast, watering roses.

“why?” he spits at them.

they still, ears that have grown to a furry point twitching at his voice. 

“the roses need watered,” they say, not looking at him.

“that’s not what i’m talking about and you know it!”

this time they do look at him. their eyes are still human. still brown. Alex can remember the kind concentration when they bandaged his hand. remembers the sadness when they spoke of their mother. the excitement sharing the stars and the earth with him.

“my darling,” they say, voice thick with some unidentifiable emotion but dripping sarcastic sweetness, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

suddenly, words threaten to spill out that Alex bites back like bile. ‘why can’t i forget what you smell like? why can’t i forget how your hands felt around mine? why can’t i forget how warm it was to sit next to you? or how your eyes lit up when you looked at the stars? why can’t i forget the sweet sound of your voice? or how you sound when you sing? why can’t i forget how i hurt you that day in the library? why can’t i forget you?’

Mercy stops watering and cocks a hand on their hip.

“Krycek,” they snap.

“Why did you attack all of those people?” he shouts suddenly, unbidden. a bird shrieks and takes flight from one of the bushes. Mercy’s eyes widen and he watches them flicker as they take in his question.

then they laugh. throws their head back and laughs until it becomes a series of barks and they’re hunched in half to catch their breath.

“i’ve attacked people before,” they say when they can breathe again. “but that was years ago. when i found the men who killed my mother. i haven’t harmed anyone since.”

not physically, Alex wants to yell, his heart aching an racing in his chest. “a caravan came through this forest. they were utterly demolished. explain that, monster.”

their eyes harden and turn yellow as they stare at him. their hair begins to swirl around them. their lips curl and their fangs are bared.

“i have never harmed an innocent person,” Mercy, the Monster in the Woods, snarls at him. their watering can falls from their grip and they advance on Alexei Krycek who seems frozen in place. “i have harmed, my dearest Krycek, but only once, and for revenge. for my mother.” they stop mere inches from him and lean in, arms holding him still. “how dare you accuse me of this heinous act, when you know what i’ve been through. who do you think you are? get the fuck off of my property and never come back.”

he’s released with a shove, only saved from falling when Fox catches him. Fox…

“they’re beautiful,” Fox whispers to him as he helps Alex stand. Mercy’s ears twitch but they don’t look back at them, instead picking up their watering can and resuming the watering process. “is she telling the truth?”

Alex Krycek swallows. “yes,” he says, barely audible.

Fox releases him and steps forward. “what’s your name?” he asks Mercy. they snort.

“they call me the Monster.” their voice drips with bitter hatred, and Alex flinches.

“but you must have a name?” Fox presses. they don’t answer. “Alex believes you. but that means someone or something else in this forest attacked that caravan. and until we can figure out who it was… everyone will think it was you.”

“only three people outside of my home know i exist,” Mercy snips.

“And Jeffrey Spender is leading a hunting party to put you down.”

both Fox and Alex flinch when the watering can handle shatters in Mercy’s grip.

“when?”

“before sunset,” Alex supplies.

Mercy flies into a frenzy. they rush to the mansion and starts packing up everything. Alex, Fox, John, an Monica trail behind them as they tear through the mansion. the last thing they do before they speak to them is seal the library.

“take John and Monica far from here,” Mercy says to Fox, handing John and Monica the two bags they’d been packing.

“what?!” exclaims Monica, dropping the bag to grasp Mercy’s arm. they don’t look away from Fox, and Alex has to clamp down on the envy he feels.

“do you understand me?” they snarl. “get them to safety.” only when Fox nods do they look away. with gentle hands, Mercy puts the bag back in Monica’s hand. “go with them.”

“no!” protests Monica.

“please,” Mercy whispers. “please go with them. you can’t be caught in this. i can’t let you die. Monica… please go.”

“and leave you to die on your own?” demands John.

Mercy bares their teeth in what Alex thinks is supposed to be a grin. “A fitting death for a violent monster.”

they’re alone. the sun is low in the sky, nearly set, and Mercy is alone. if Jeffrey is going to kill them, this is how it should be. they find themself in the rose garden, standing before the bush with only one rose.

“i’ll see you soon, Mother,” they say to the rose, dropping to their knees before the bush. they bow their head.

John and Monica have each other. they’ll be alright without them. they might be in pain, but they’ll make it through.

Mercy once thought that when they died, no one would be left alive to mourn them. and only six months ago they were sure that John and Monica would be the only ones to mourn them. and a day ago they thought Alex hated them. four hours ago they thought he hated them. and now they know they’re leaving behind three people to mourn them.

“i’m so sorry,” they say, digging their claws into the dirt. they squeeze their eyes shut and tears leak out into their fur. they don’t move when they hear hoof beats. they won’t give the hunting party the satisfaction of killing a beast. they’ll have to kill Mercy as Mercy pays respects to their mother and mourns for those in their life.

he can’t be too late. please don’t be too late. please please please please please.

his heartbeat pounds in his ears an his legs are trembling with how tightly he’s squeezing his horse. his knuckles are bleached white and his fingers are cold as he grips the reins.

he can’t be too late. he can’t be too late.

he’ll never forgive himself if he’s too late to keep Jeffrey away from them. he’ll never forgive himself if he’s too late to tell them. to save them. to be near them one more time, even if they can’t forgive him for the things he’s said.

his horse bursts into the clearing of Mercy’s home but Alex doesn’t slow to a walk. they sprint across the yard, alert for any other sounds. he hears nothing and his horse whips around the side of the house. Alex pulls the reins and jumps down before he even comes to a full stop.

“mercy?” he gasps out, stumbling into the garden.

“why are you here?”

he faces them sharply.

“well?” Mercy bites, glaring up at him from their place on the ground.

Alex stares at them for a few long, silent moments.

“i will not leave you alone. i will not let you die for a crime you did not commit.” he drops to his knees beside them and presses his forehead against their shoulder. “i won’t let you be alone.”

Mercy’s tense, he can feel it. their words come out even more tense than he’d imagined. “monsters deserve to be alone.”

“then,” Alex Krycek says to Mercy, the monster in the woods, the creature, the person he loves, “it’s a good thing you’re not a monster.”

[nonsensical-rants]

Thoughts on Persona 5

The persona series is one of the biggest influences to me and who I am within recent memory. I’ve played every game and anticipate the idea of exploring every nook and cranny the game has to offer, across hundreds of hours. Both three and four were games that I cherish and the same can be said with five. But just like with any game I've played there are some gripes that get to me whenever i think about them for too long. This is my personal opinion but i do like hearing different viewpoints since it will always add insight to a discussion. I am prone to rambling and sometimes getting of topic but i shall do my best. Spoilers ahead for anyone who has yet to beat/see the game in its entirety.

During the “anticipation” for the games release, I didn’t really look up a lot about the game because i wanted everything to be a surprise. Aside from some trailers that hooked me in with an amazing story about Phantom Thieves who steal peoples hearts and jump out of Casinos, everything would be a surprise for me. So when i started up the game and reached Kamoshida’s Palace. I was having a grand time with all the mechanics, the music, and the different characters that were being presented too me. Personally, Morgana is one hell of a upgrade in comparison to Teddy. Both as a character, and as a mascot.

During the game play, I was always looking forward to what would come next and how it would be done. Hanging out with Ryuji and seeing Mishima change as a person were some early game highlights. Of course i went through the dungeon as fast as possible because i wanted to know the characters as much as possible. Ryuji filled a good role as a partner and as comic relief, but I felt towards the later end of the game he could’ve had another spark to get him excited (other than being pissed at corrupt adults). And no. The confrontation between Morgana and Ryuji does not count. I felt like that could have been so much better of a scene, but it was executed poorly with Morgana basically getting away for his constant belittling of “Skull”. Everyone just laughs it off, except for me because its actually just unwarranted and unnecessary rivalry between characters who just started off on the wrong foot. Morgana is a know it-all and Ryuji may need a second explanation sometimes but he has more heart that anyone in the gang.

But, i’m getting ahead of myself. The original four were interesting characters who had good traits to bounce off one another whether it be through bickering or bonding. And as the story progressed, i really found myself hating Kamoshida because of how much of an asshole he truly was behind his public mask (haha). Shiho’s involvement only strengthened that belief. As sudden as her introduction was, it still meant something to me. So taking him down, and seeing him crying while confessing everything was great satisfaction.

But this is where something started occurring to me that would constantly present itself to me throughout the course of the game and it was bothersome. Climbing up the confidant ranks of Ann, and later Makoto made me ask a question to myself over and over again. Why am i not learning more about THESE characters, but instead about Chiho and some random girl from Makoto’s class. I understand that they are being used as catalysts to show traits and ideas about their personality, but i would rather observe those traits for myself while also learning more about them. I found myself to be learning more about these characters during story cut scenes (in-game or otherwise) then i did in the confidants. And that’s a problem in my eyes. 

It almost felt like they were flattening themselves like Persona Q did for the casts’ of three and four. Ann is a female model who loves sweets, cares deeply/respects herself and her friends, and can stand up for others but not so much for herself. I could’ve learned this through different scenes in the game like with different encounters of Kamoshida, the Shido cruise, and just how she carries herself. And Makoto is a whole other basket case with how shes supposed to be this “badass” who only reveals herself when she is pushed too far but she is also motherly and wants to protect what is right in her eyes. Those are the only defining traits i can think of when i think of Makoto and they are mostly shown in her Awakening scene. Maybe also when she defies her sister to download the case files and slaps her friend. Other than that, she felt very robotic to me, wanting to help this nameless individual.

We could of had a scene where Sae is worrying about her sister and wants to see one of her friends, and thinking you are the best option. She invites you (the leader of the phantom thieves) to come over. More interaction with Sae, more personal depictions of Makoto, rather than seeing the problems of someone we aren’t invested in. Or hell maybe even Akechi could show up during a confidant session. This is my first pet peeve with Persona 5. In comparison to the previous games, we learn so much more about the characters personality and problems through hangouts. Junpei isn’t a social link/confidant but we learn about his experience with Chidori and feel for him during a later confrontation (He’s a social link in Persona 3 Portable i know but im refering to three and FES). Or Kanji being a “delinquent”. We see others belittling him for his appearance and what they perceive to be his personality, but we know better as his friend. We learn about his mother and his desires through the rank ups. Moving on though.

Yusuke has one of my more favorite social links as he is overflowing with personality and (in my opinion) humor. Even if accidental, all the posing, painting and quirkyness from Yusuke is what i expected from everyone. After Madarame is taken down he goes from being defensively aggressive to shaken up and finally angry at the man he once cherished. We learn more about him both in and out of confidants, like how he doesnt have much money so he rarely gets to eat, and also didnt have a place to stay for a while (even though that was brief. I would’ve loved seeing Daytime scenes with him). He has almost a brother like relationship with Futaba Sakura, who i believe to be a well executed hermit character. For me, her backstory was very developed and believable for someone to shut themselves inside when they dont have all of the answers to a problem/life event that has become essentially the bane of their existence. Her social link developed her bond with Sojiro and shows of traits of herself through another person in a way that didnt completely focus on them instead of the person im hanging out with (*cough* Makoto *cough*)

Seriously though, I think all the characters were written well for the most part with only a few exceptions. Atlas really knows how to write their characters. Haru is actually one of my top picks for a favorite character because of how she was portrayed in having to deal with stress and how we kind of lead to the demise of her father. Though that was completely unavoidable as most things are in a supernatural franchise such as this. One last thing that urked me about the game was Akechi and how blatantly obvious the whole traitor aspect of his character was depicted. Atlas had it right with Adachi, making him one of my favorite characters in general and showing off a hopelessly Nihilistic perspective of the world when we as a player are seeing the world as happy and carefree. He didnt have a social link (until Golden), while Akechi did. The difference is that Akechi’s was progressed through story events while Adachi’s was an optional relationship that led you to learning more of his quirks earlier in the story. He could have been so much more but was thrown aside for a nameless “big bad” who we (as a player. Not the protagonist) have no relation too. I’ve seen discussions saying how Akechi could have been the one to have the River’s in the Desert battle, with a shadow realm showing his perspective of the world as a kingdom with him as the hero who protected everyone. He is the best in his own eyes and could not be defeated.

If there is one thing i hate in story telling, it is wasted potential. And Pancake Boy has a lot of that to spare. From the moment he blackmailed the Phantom Thieves to show them Nijima’s Palace (also with just how GOOD his moveset was), it made it so much more obvious he wouldn’t be a mainstay.

Those are my main comments with Persona 5, but they are mostly nitpicks compared to the grand scheme of things. I invested 200+ hours and two playthroughs into this game. My regular play through and a Fresh Merciless playthrough (with the help of a guide for 100% sake). I love this game to pieces and i wouldn’t be talking about it otherwise. Maybe there will be a P5Crimson Edition that adds more context to Akechi’s character and fixes problems other people have with the game. Maybe not. Who knows.

[68ejgppd-blog]

I cheated my husband he knows but still wants to keep me and the marriage,but dont love him anymore,what i do?

I cheated my husband he knows but still wants to keep me and the marriage,but dont love him anymore,what i do?

i m still staying with him he change to make me happy i gave him a chance i have 2 kids for their sake i stayed but still i n not happy i rather have to divorce him i know i will have a peace of mine i want to do something that makes me happy he s a boring guy i just did nt ralized that b4 coz i m bc taking care of my 2 kids but now they re teenagers i suddenly realized how boring my life is,i m 44 yrs old and i knoe i still can find better life ahead of me with the right person with me so i need help outthere if i really have to sacrifice ny happiness for the sake of my marriage and for the my kids? my husband is not really a good provider we both have financial problem he had his money i have my own,i dont have a name on his bank account either his on mine he paid all the bills,i paid the daycare and the clothes for me and the kids,the sch. lunch for 1 kid him the other kid,i paid the car insurance which it s not my name but since i m the one using it.so pls. help what shall i do?

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[jawllines]

oKAY LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ME TO PURSUE THIS FIC OKAY

Harry fucked up.

Now was it a tremendous fuck up? No, nothing life altering and terrible would come from it other than hard hitting embarrassment and shame if anyone were to find out he were lying. It was something he could probably weasel his way out of too, since he'd perfected the art of weaseling his way out of things in the past few weeks, but the fucked part is, is that he can't truly weasel the way out of his weasel, if that makes sense. Harry's dug himself into a pit that he's stuck in either way he goes about it -- damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

See, Harry has been going through a period of time this year where he just liked being alone. Just liked staying at his flat and chilling out, after an outrageous Sophomore year in UNI where he had just exhausted himself of partying and balancing his academics on top of that. It seemed like a good idea to just cool down for a while this summer -- to just take a breather, recollect himself and his thoughts, maybe pick up knitting, or finally finish that Bukowski book he'd started midwinter and set down on his nightstand to not be touched since.

Though he had a group of friends who really didn't take that as an excuse to quit partying. It was their vacation after all, they're supposed to be living it up and having a blast while they can -- Harry included -- so if he wanted to get out of something he needed an excuse. A good excuse too, "I'm tired" didn't cut it with them.

So Harry had fabricated a girlfriend. And he knows, god he knows it's dumb, and childish, and he shouldn't be lying about something like this but it was the easiest way out! Ducking out of plans with the ol' "Ah m'sorry Mate, the missus' wan's to visit this Tapas restaurant," or "I would but m'staying in for a cuddle and as much as I love you lot, m'getting head tonight," always worked out smoothest. They never asked much about her, or at least Harry didn't really give them a chance to before he was off the phone. Sure he'd made up bits and pieces here and there that would make it seem like he really won it with this one and had them (especially Niall) thinking he's got the  perfect girlfriend. One who he rarely argues with (unless its playful), is just a freak in the bedroom, likes to pig out with him, smart as hell, gives great back massages, is funny as all get out, and smells sweet too.

Which was good for a while -- it was a safe, clean fib that he was getting away with. Or at least it had been, until he's put in a group chat with the lot of them talking about a cabin they've rented out an hour or two away for a small summer getaway. He gives it his best, he does, tries to wiggle out of it, but they beg and they plead with him.

We haven't seen you in sooooo long

right it's been like a decade !

cuz he's so whipped for his gf he's forgotten about us :(

just bring her too then, ffs, we haven't met her yet, this would be the perfect time to

Yes!! Bring the girl you've been gushing about, been wanting to meet her

u dont even have to pay for the cabin it's all squared away, it'll be so much fun H, u gotta

How was he going to say no to all of that? How could he say no and then explain that he's been lying this whole time, that there is no girl, and he's just been avoiding them all because he's tired? That'd sure start a ton of shit he doesn't want to much deal with.

So he responds without thinking it through to the full extent. Says yes, that they will go, and asks for all the details and times and whatnot, what he should bring and what he shouldn't. They're all stoked, so happy to see him and he can't say that it doesn't feel good that he's wanted -- it's a nice feeling it is, but he's got one aching problem that the love of friends just won't fix.

Harry's got to find a girlfriend that suits everything he's ever said to them in the next four days, or he's going to make a fool out of himself.

                                                                         .                        .                        .

Finding a fake girlfriend was a lot harder than he thought, more so since he'd told the boys that they wouldn't know her. So this requires a lot of digging, a lot of asking one night stands what they're doing in the upcoming week, a lot of asking old friends from Holmes Chapel to fly out so he didn't look like an idiot,  lot of panicked late night drafting, deleting, and redrafting a Craigslist ad. He was willing to offer money too, just for the sake of it and as the final selling point. He was starting to wish he hadn't said much about this fake girlfriend at all, so a fake boyfriend could've been a possibility too, but he hadn't thought that far into the lie.

Harry was just in the midst of realizing how much of a sad, dramatic Disney movie his life was turning into when he gets an alert on his phone. It makes him jump, it vibrating just towards the edge of the counter so he slaps his hand down atop of it to stop it from slipping off the granite. His heart is drumming from the adrenaline of saving his phone when he sees who it's from.

Heyyyy, I was wonderin' if I could have my pen back? I know its been a minute and I said you could have it but turns out that was my fav pen not the copy of my fav pen. I've got your cute flower sticky post-its to return to you too, so we could do a trade off.

Y/N was a girl who sat besides him during his Bio lectures this past semester. Really, she was the only thing that got him through it because he zoned out way too much and she always let him borrow her notes, partnered up with him when they had labs or projects, and always read through the final draft of some of the essays they had to put it (not just for Bio, but for some of his English courses as well). They'd bonded some, but she was one of those friends that really just stayed within the realms of school -- never ventured out of that.

During their exam they had to write a constructive response in pen and Harry hadn't brought one so Y/N let him use hers and in return he gave her his flower sticky notes so they would remember to give each thing back to each other. Neither did, however, and Harry had pretty much forgotten he had it until he came across it the other day. He'd been meaning to text her about it, but he'd left it on his coffee table and sort of just forgot about it again.

Now that Harry thinks about it, he wishes he would've kept in better contact with her. Y/N was a good laugh and nice to chat with -- made the two hour long labs seem like a breeze and the professor just adored her so they always got a damn nice grade. She was pretty amazing too, way fucking smart, and smells really nice -- like vanilla -- and sometimes she would bring in a big homemade bag of these fancy seasoned pretzel sticks that she let him dig into.

Well, now that he really thinks about it, she sounds exactly like the girlfriend he told the others about.

And well, fuck, it was a long shot, but Y/N might just be his best fucking chance at getting out of this scrape free. Y/N's pretty chill with a lot of things, goes with the flow, and is laid back when the time calls for it. Has their old Bio professor thing she was an absolute angel that the heavens bestowed onto this earth, so she was a pretty good actor as well.

He can't imagine this working out in his favor but he isn't just not going to ask. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and he's willing to give her any amount she wants for a week and a half of her time.

So he messages her back for a place and a time and when she offers the coffee shop a few blocks from his house he agrees, takes one more spoonful of the fruity pebbles he'd been cramming down his throat before closing his laptop and setting his phone down atop of it.  The goal right now is hopping in the shower and making himself smell all nice, fresh, and like a "Tropical Thunderstorm" that will hopefully aide in persuading her. All he could hope for right now is for her to agree easily -- hell, he'd even buy her coffee and one of those cute little strawberry hard shell cakes to buy her out.

Blowing a raspberry at the air, he stretches out his limbs towards the sky and the ground, before rolling his arms back. It looks like he's gearing up for a fight but he's just readying himself. This is quest he has to conquer or he's just absolutely, positively fucked.

                                                                                .                       .                      .

"Okay."

What? 

"What?"

Harry had met up with Y/N, bought her a coffee as planned and got them a booth in a comfortable little nook of the coffee shop. They served it in these huge mugs that she was both gushing over and bashing ("This is the most hipster shit I've seen in my life, but s'got such a cute little bunny on the side, I'm in love.), she slid him his sticky notes and he slid her the pen. After a suitable amount of chatter, like how their summer's have been going, and Y/N telling him a very intense story of how she had to help her friend escape from a club so her boyfriend didn't see her (they hiked her up through a bathroom window), Harry tried to bring it up cautiously and carefully. Explaining his dilemma the best he could, from the wanting some personal time to himself to cool down and relax, to the counterfeited girlfriend he'd conjured up, and ending with the fact that now he's expected to go to a cabin with said "girlfriend" to meet his buddies.

So he asked her, trying to keep himself from cringing at his own proposition.

"Would you pretend to be my girlfriend so I don't make a fool out of myself?"

And, well, she just said okay without a second thought at all.

"I said okay," her brows a furrow and a smile tugs at her mouth, "You aren't asking for a kidney, and the amenities include Wi-Fi, running water, and actual bedding as you informed me. Doesn't sound like too bad of a time either."

This went a lot smoother than Harry thought, and he's still blinking at her, wide eyed but  a grin is broadening across his cheeks, "So you'll do it? Really?" Y/N nods, and Harry just about jumps from his seat, stretching across the table to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug, "God you're a life saver! Thought you would tell me to fuck off or something." She returns the hug easily, which is good he thinks -- he hopes this means Y/N's good with being touchy feely, the way she squeezes him to her.

"S'no problem, really, what was I going to do this week anyways? All my friends took a trip to Australia and I refused because of the creatures they have living down there, so I just have loads of TV dramas queued up and candy I shouldn't be eating." She releases him as he settles back down into his seat, "So what kind of girl did you tell them I was -- like how should I act? M'I shy or outgoing, soft and sweet, or loud and brash, please don't tell me you gave them an eye color because I'm shit with contacts."

Harry is just positively giddy, wiggling in his seat as he takes a sip from his latte and tries to recall the nitty gritty details he's told them about her, "You're soft, cute, smart and really funny, so you don't need to work on anything there," he says cheekily and she rolls her eyes, tossing a crumbled up napkin at him, "We eat a lot together and ya give great back massages."

"I eat a lot on my own anyways so this is good." She chimes in and Harry makes a fist in triumph, "I dunno about the back massages, but I can work on my skills, surely. Anything else?"

"This ones the most important," he says, leaning in close, lowering his voice and she leans in as well in response to it, "We are very, very, very in love. We gotta sell this, do you think you can?"

Y/N waves at the air like she's brushing it off.

"Easy as pie."

                                                                          .                    .                     .

Harry is a jittery nervous and excited that he can't really explain. It's like -- he's pumped to see his friends again, he realizes he's missed the dolts after being a shut in for the few weeks he's had been. He's excited for them to meet Y/N, who isn't his real girlfriend but it's nice to finally have her to prove to them he's not lying (well, sort of), because this was sure to quash any doubts. Plus spending time with Y/N outside of Bio wasn't so bad either -- she's proven to be just as much of a good time as she was in there, in the outside world, so he worries none about the two hour trip driving down there nor pretending to be in love.

He's attempting to tidy his house some -- she's coming over tonight with her bags and everything packed so they can leave early-ish in the morning, and they need to go over a few more details before he forgets. They also have to practice being a couple. . .doing coupe-ly things, like cuddles, and hugs, and they can't make it look like it's been the first time they're touching each other or his friends would see through them right away. By tidying though, he's really just shoving things where they fit, stacking papers and cramming them into a book before slipping it beneath his chair, fluffing out his throw blanket and actually lying it on the back of the couch.