#i imagine us laughing about dumb shit and idk just being in their company but idk how it works or atleast i forgot

[upgradebitch]

y

[thephantomsdream]

so I've been reading real published romance books and they cannot fill the void that ao3 and company do fill, but they did give me an idea. ok, lmfao, hear me out. (I've had this in my drafts for way too long, i decided to release it because why tf not)

content: alien!141, soulmates!141, abduction, intergalactic human trafficking, space shit; very vague idea of anything ever; probably made up alien names; writer is at work while dealing with annoying costumers so it's rushed and dumb.

imagine:

Good ol' you, in your house, unaware that in the deep, vast universe, trafficking also existed. Not long ago, a reptilian race found out about our warm bodies, interesting features and intelligent yet primitive brains, and started to abduct and sell men and women to rich buyers. It was good business, especially considering our side of the universe wasn't even aware of extraterrestrial life, so they couldn't even guess where they disappeared! The treaty and all intergalactic laws were vague about us. "Let them be" meaning "Let them fuckers figure their shit out, lol idk".

Well, as you can understand, the Sheh'deauz (lmfao stay with me) decided to in fact not let us be. So back to lovely you, yeah?

Home alone, playing videogames or something, when suddently you see some flashes of light out the window. It was weird considering it wasn't raining but you remained calm, as you assumed maybe a storm is approaching? Mainly, you couldn't give a shit but the moment you heard scratching and hissing outside your door, you panicked. Long story short, your house slowly started filling with an invisible gas that just made you pass out, but you did see your door opening, same weird blue-white light emanating from under it as it did, and a scaly leg entering your home as you fell on the floor.

You figured, as the genius that you were, that you were, in fact, not dreaming as you spent many hours (days? felt like days) in a cage. Very oddly technologically advanced. In another strike of genius, and of course, after seeing your kidnappers, you figured it was a spaceship and you were in some deep sci-fi shit. (maybe after laughing and asking them where are the hidden cameras. i would...)

After throwing tantrums and having the ugly multi-colored creatures mock you and hiss at you, you kinda gave up and sat by the very human bed you've been given and allowed time to pass. You were given food every so often, a toilet nearby, water at your disposal. But you feared for your life.

Well, let me tell you something. You have the luckiest misfortune of all, really. Or maybe, just maybe, things are meant to be this way. Maybe it was all meant to happen like this. Allow me to explain.

In another corner of the universe, four of the greatest warriors of the Intergalactic Army frowned at a holographic screen. A female alien, older, still beautiful, ethereal looking, skin creamy white with some lavender edges and striking blue eyes was frowning back.

"You're fucking kidding me." Their captain said (in a different language than ours but your writer here is multi-lingual, don't worry), getting closer to the screen. She just nodded, rubbing her forehead.

"Where is that again?" Asked another.

"So like—" a third one, this one with a distinct accent compared to the others, tilted his head incredulously. "They're our cousins genetically?"

"You can say so." She groaned. "The Council decided to not touch that part of the galaxy. They are being observed. Fucking hell! They were going on the right path."

"If they don't destroy their own planet before." The captain muttered, voice tired and coarse. In his many, many years lived, he's seen it happen again and again. Greed and stupidity almost whipped their race, so he's been following the Terrans close-by, as close as a mere Intergalactic Task Force Captain (stick with me lmfao) could follow.

"So what's the plan?" The tallest one asked, mask made of what others assumed was one of his most dangerous prey's skull was placed on his face.

"We give them hell." Captain commanded, Laswell nodding.

"Stay close, at the outskirts of their galaxy. We intercept any package and find their buyers."

"What do we do with our lil cousins then?"

"Eliminate any witnesses."

Shit went down really quick. You figured they were preparing for something as the guards by your cell somehow summoned some advanced looking chairs from the walls to strap themselves on and hissed at you mockingly, as they've done before. You just sat in a corner, by the bed, and wanted to cry. You were going through all stages of grief every few hours and it was getting exhausting. You were just now starting to understand how dire your situation was and how little chances you had of going home.

They turned off the main lights and a thousand scenarios crossed your mind. It was as if they were bracing for something. You frowned as you saw the guards tense as some alien hieroglyphics appeared on a holographic screen. It looked... like a countdown... You grasped the bed, trying to brace yourself for something. And good that you did because it felt as if the ship collapsed with something.

It basically shook you off to the ground, and while you'd think this was supposed to happen, you quickly realize it wasn't since the guards unstrapped themselves from the chairs and started shrieking as alarms suddently blared. After that? Seconds and it was over. Two white blasts ended them both, hitting them exactly in the middle of their ugly skulls. You did not hear any footsteps but you saw a shadow approaching your cell, so you scurried closer to your bed and now presumably magic shield that will block blasts that melt alien skulls.

The barriers from your cell unlocked, sliding to the sides and someone jumped in front of you. Someone big, dressed sleekly in black, although you could swear the edges of his frame looked transparent for a second. It was big, yet had the complexity of a human so you stayed locked in place, big scared eyes on the person pointing a big son-of-a-bitch gun at you. You heard it growl and speak something shortly, and the hairs on your whole body pricked.

World stopped for Price as he cracked another neck, just after locking eyes with the leader of this "cargo" ship. He was about to take a step forward to gently guide this person towards personal enlightenment by confessing all the information they needed, even if it would be involuntarily, when Soap spoke... well, growled just one word in their comms.

"Mate."

[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.

[rrandomtthings]

Okok one CEO dk au kinda like that but less so but actually still wholesome -----

Bkg is a golddigger. He is expensive. But nobody touches him. No one deserves to. No one has enough. He lets nobody get to him, no matter how much they plead. Dk tho.

He applys to the job of being the CEO's secretary, he didn't know it was dk. The boy he used to have a puppy crush on when he was a teen. The one who left and he never saw again. Upon this knowledge, he just couldn't let it pass. Dk is a sweetheart even after so long, he makes bk's heart ache. "Kacchan, you used to be so cute!" He has to look up to see Bk's face.

He was devasted to know dk was married, but he couldn't take it. Never before has he wanted someone so badly. He asks dk to run away with him, and he does.

He was kinda glad dk's wife (Momo) didn't give a shit at all. At least, she didn't try breaking into his house to kill him (yeah, it happened before. He wasn't even that involved.) But even then he was sorry for asking dk to leave her lmao

Idk i feel like someone could write it much better and much more interesting fhfvhsadrefd

THIS IS SO INTERESTING OMGJDJEJDJS

This has me thinking of,,,, what if Momo DID care 👀 so now I have to add an angst twist <3

Momo wondering where her husband is after he did not come home one night. That one night turn into two and eventually became a week. She ended up terrified that Izuku got kidnapped. He IS a CEO for a major company which means people are more likely to come after him, so after the second night where he didn’t come home and hadn’t answered his phone, she filed a missing persons report

Momo is genuinely in love with Izuku

She loved him so much. They had been married for about 2 years now and it’s been such an amazing 2 years. Their marriage was for convenience purposes, but it really felt like that didn’t matter. When they were together, it felt like true love — she felt such strong feelings for him. So when he had gone “missing,” she was devastated

,,, that is until news came out ab Izuku Midoriya and the guy they found him with. That was Momo’s final straw after the hectic week she had. She blew up at Izuku and at Katsuki. Izuku tried defending Katsuki when Momo got into his face, but it ended with Momo slapping and hitting both of them

Momo and Izuku spend some days apart, collecting their thoughts on the events that had recently happen until they eventually have a conversation at their dinner table:

“I love him,” Izuku says, breaking the tense silence.

Momo says nothing as tears start forming their way into her eyes. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, like everything was falling apart. Just a week ago, the two were on the couch happily watching movies and laughing together. Now… now she could never imagine the same relationship they once had.

“Did you ever love me?” Momo asked as the tears that were building up started falling down her face. Izuku looked at Momo, wide eyed. He considered the question, analyzing his options. Momo knew he was a smart man, knew that he takes everything into consideration. And she, too, was a smart woman. While Izuku was a CEO of his company, many forget that she is a CEO of her own. She felt quite dumb asking such a silly question, she was smart, she had a feeling she has known this answer for a few days now.

“No.”

That feeling was proven right.

[blossom-hwa]

fashion major!kevin

ANYWAY THERE WAS LIKE ONE PERSON WHO CALLED FOR A FASHION MAJOR KEVIN SPINOFF OF THE COLLEGE MODEL JUYEON AU I JUST POSTED (linked below) anyway! hope you enjoy, please reblog if you did, and check out my other dumb overly long blurbs in the stream of idiocy tag on my blog <3

pairing: kevin x gender neutral!reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: fluff, university!au

triggers: cursing

college model!juyeon

TBZ Scenarios Masterlist | TBZ Drabbles Masterlist

kevin moon is known on campus for two things: 1. his bright personality literally everyone loves him and if you don’t you’re jealous of him like sorry not sorry i don’t make the rules you know i’m right and 2. his.... unorthodox fashion sense. like eric thought his snake patterned shit was weird as hell?? but there are weirder things in kevin’s closet i swear to you. anyway this unorthodox style is what got him accepted into the fashion program at the university and even though there are a few assholes who stick their noses up at kevin’s work the vast majority of people are cool w his outfits even if they personally wouldn’t wear them and kevin is v well-liked in his major and on campus in general bc he knows everyone and is nice and polite and really a v cool person to be around when he’s not being a fucking idiot

and on campus there are fashion shows a few times every semester to show off the fashion majors’ work, and let’s just say that this university if p well know for its fashion major so some famous people sometimes come along to these events so EVERY TIME a fashion show rolls around the fashion majors get nervous as FUCK and there’s a lot of speculation on who will get noticed and whatever and everyone is secretive about what they’re working on and just. everyone goes fucking haywire and kevin is always v happy when the stress winds down after a show

(no one knows it but kevin has gotten offers from several companies to work with them after he graduates. he hasn’t told anyone except a few friends like juyeon/jacob and his family)

anyway you are also a fashion major who secretly really admires kevin’s stuff?? like you just think he’s so daring and creative and all of his work is absolutely amazing even if it’s a little weird and honestly you don’t even feel overshadowed by his talent and hard work you just feel in awe that you can be in his presence at all. you’re p sure kevin has no idea who you are bc even though you have a lot of the same classes you’re always too shy to sit or work near him bc even though he seems so nice and approachable he’s also just.... god he’s so good

BUT THEN. one of your professors announces that for the next fashion show they’ll be modeling projects that he’s assigning right now. which is weird asf bc usually you’ll all take your best clothing and like fix it or tweak it for the next show, like sometimes people will make something completely from scratch but that’s nerve-wracking and not many people do it unless they’re in a real pinch but it gets even WEIRDER bc this is not a regularly scheduled fashion event?? it’s like a smaller event apparently that they’ve organized just for this project AND THE WEIRDNESS TAKES THE CAKE when your professor says that YOU ARE GOING TO BE THE MODELS. YOU ALL ARE GOING TO PICK SOMEONE IN THE CLASS TO MAKE CLOTHES FOR AND THEY WILL MODEL YOUR OUTFIT

and this SENDS EVERYONE FREAKING THE FUCK OUT??? bc oh god you can’t rely on the models you’ve been using all semester now??? and you have to make flattering clothes for someone you might not even know v well and it’s just. holy fuck holy fuck holy FUCK

meanwhile you already know who you want to create for (/ahem kevin moon/) but you’re also chicken so like??? you’re just sitting in your seat looking over at him but not saying anything until your friend chanhee just pushes you out of your seat in kevin’s direction and is like GO ASK HIM BEFORE YOU LOSE THIS CHANCE and you’re like JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CHANHEE but kevin’s noticed your movement and he’s looking over with a smile on his face and you’re like jfc i can’t do this but chanhee shoves you again and so you kinda smile (you really hope it looks like a smile) and your voice is LITERALLY shaking when you go over and ask if it would be ok to use him as a model for this assignment and he’s like.... oh my god yes

because what YOU don’t know is that kevin has been ogling your designs all year?? like he enjoys his own style and is comfortable in it but he loves your work as in LOVES IT. he thinks your designs are absolutely flawless and original and you combine styles so effortlessly that he just wants to look into your brain when you come up with ideas bc what the fuck?? you may have different styles but kevin knows how to admire art AND YOUR DESIGNS ARE ART. 

so you’re reeling a day later bc now you have kevin moon’s number and he has yours and he’s now texting you on when you think you’ll have the first preliminary designs ready and when you can meet up so you can get each other’s measurements and all that and when you eventually meet up your hands are shaking so much that you can barely take his measurements and kevin is screeching in his mind as well bc oh my god you’re going to model his clothes YOU’RE GOING TO MODEL HIS CLOTHES

most people are again being secretive about their designs and even though someone in their class is modeling for them this time so there’s a bit less secrecy they’re still working alone so you get a shock when kevin asks if you want to coordinate your outfits. like work on designs together and maybe make something that matches a little though ofc retaining your own styles and you just shriek when you get the text and poor childhood best friend younghoon spills his coffee (you have been friends since basically birth and there are no romantic feelings whatsoever ok it’s strictly platonic like you watched younghoon vomit after eating too much bread when you were like 10 and he watched you get tangled up in a soccer net when you were 13 there are no romantic feelings stemming from any of that)

needless to say you reply yes yes ye sYES and kevin is grinning so wide on the other end that juyeon wonders if he’s gone slightly insane (which he has but we’re not gonna dwell on that) and both of you show up to the work rooms nervous as all hell (i’m not a fashion major i have no fashion sense i still think t-shirts/leggings are the way to go so idk how any of this works do not sue me) but kevin has a natural ability to defuse any tension in the room so within minutes you’re comfortable and laughing with him and wondering why you were so scared to approach him before and THEN YOU’RE REMINDED WHY when he shows you his design for you because... oh god.... it’s unbelievable. like it has a distinctly kevin feel to it but he’s clearly been paying attention to what you wear and what you design because it’s something you would like to wear and something you even think you could look good in. holy shit

and you just blurt out like kevin what the fuck this is so good did you like stalk my designs or some shit?? and you mean it as a joke ofc but kevin just goes beet red and mumbles something about how he really likes your work and how it’s so sharply elegant but also insanely creative and you’re just. open-mouthed like. dude i’m in love with your work too oh my god i’m gonna cry my fashion idol just said he likes my designs i’m gonna screaM

kevin stops you from screaming though even though he also feels like he’s gonna scream and this is the start of a very productive partnership between the two of you like most of the fashion majors are friendly despite the competition but you and kevin are on a whole other level?? and you start hanging out more and more often even when you’ve finished designing and are actually sewing (you ask him if this part can be secret bc you want to add a few things as a surprise - he ofc says yes and winks and tells you he has things he wants to add too which just makes you want to scream out of excitement)

and it’s a week before fashion show day and you and kevin are finished with putting together the designs and you’re excited as all hell and kevin is literally about to burst from his own skin and you insist that he goes first and when he pulls the outfit from the bag you’re just. in absolute awe. the colors match the design you made, it looks like it’ll fit, and even though it screams kevin moon it also has a distinct vibe from your own fashion style and you just yell KEVIN MOON YOU GENIUS as you snatch it from him and go change

(you don’t know obviously but kevin is blushing like a tomato while waiting for you to finish changing)

it fits almost perfectly, kevin marks a few places to fix and is debating whether or not to compliment you bc??? that sounds like he’s complimenting his own work and that’s egocentric as hell but then you say something like does it look fine and he just blurts out more than fine. you look great

AND YOU’RE SO FLUSTERED THAT YOU ALL BUT THROW YOUR OWN BAG AT KEVIN and are like GO CHANGE 

so he takes out the clothes and goes silent and you’re like.... oh my god does he hate it i mean we worked on the designs together and he said he liked it then but what if he changed his mind but then he looks at you and his eyes are sparkling and he’s like y/n this is perfect. literally perfect and he rushes to go get changed and when he comes out your eyes are bugging out of your head bc holy hell you pictured kevin in these clothes obviously since they were made for him but he looks so much better than you ever imagined

and then you blurt out something like holy shit you look beautiful

and kevin blushes again

anyway you both take your measurements and run out and then the day of the fashion show rolls around and both of you are freaking out backstage but the instant you two go on it’s like you both are literal gods bc you feel so confident in each other’s clothing and the crowd can feel it THEY CAN FUCKING FEEL IT and they go nuts when you two walk out!!! and even though it isn’t like a huge major fashion show, it’s just for this one project that your professors cooked up, you and kevin are both beaming like the sun when it’s over despite the fact that it wasn’t an important event bc holy shit you two had fun and everyone’s complimenting your clothing and it’s great it’s just great

finally all the chaos is over and the clothes have been put away and the makeup removed and you and kevin are now standing outside the venue in a kind of stunned silence that all of it’s over. it’s all over. and then you suddenly thrust out the clothes you made that kevin wore and tell him to keep it. it’s a present. and kevin takes it but he also forces you to take the outfit he made for you. and then there’s silence again

but if there’s anything you’ve gained over the past few weeks it’s a bit of courage. courage that let you talk to kevin, courage that let you design clothes for him, courage that let you become friends (and maybe something more) with him. you’ve also learned that kevin is a massive dork and a lovely human being and you’d really love to at least stay in contact so in that the moment you smile and say ‘if i asked you on a date, would you wear that outfit?’

poor kevin looks like he’s about to have a fucking aneurysm and you start to lose confidence but then he’s nodding like there’s no tomorrow like yes ye sYE S OH MY GOD YE S and omg you now have a boyfriend whom you like very very much and kevin has a partner whom he likes very very much

you two may not be a pda couple but you ARE that couple that matches every outfit they wear, you make jewelry and accessories for each other and also make each other clothes every so often. everyone is jealous of your combined fashion sense bc even though the outfits might look outrageous, you two both manage to pull them off and look fabulous at it, but also they can’t even be that jealous bc you two are the sweetest couple and are absolutely lovely 

both of you do wear the outfits you made for that show on your first date which is to like a musical or smth bc theatre kid kevin is something you can pry out of my cold dead hands and everyone’s staring but you two are in your own little world and it’s amazing

kevin admits at one point that he was afraid to ask you out bc he thought younghoon was your boyfriend and you just snort and tell him everything stupid younghoon’s done and by the end younghoon is done with you, kevin is about to vomit he’s laughing so hard, and you are smirking like no tomorrow

for the end of year fashion show you and kevin fix up and accessorize the outfits you two made for the show that brought you two together and there is absolutely no surprise that several different fashion companies scout both of you (and a couple modeling agencies too since you and kevin decided to model your own clothing again - younghoon whines that you’ve replaced him but you shut him up with chocolate bread)

kevin’s a sucker for romance (you CANNOT tell me this isn't true) so your first kiss is on the roof of the fashion building at sunset when kevin does the cheesy thing where he says you look more beautiful the view and you almost slap him but you’re laughing so hard and kevin’s cackling and somehow it turns into a kiss

you are a dork and kevin is even more of a dork and it just works out beautifully bc you’re so absolutely in love that it makes people fake vomit from the sides (looking at chanhee right here) but it’s also really sweet in that you two trust each other completely and would do absolutely anything for the other except murder. kevin made that v clear but really only bc blood would stain his clothing and he doesn’t need that. you agree wholeheartedly (younghoon/juyeon are looking from the sides like what the fuck is this couple do they need help and you two are like just go away and let us be the weird couple we are ok). the conversation ends in a v soft v sweet kiss and just. ik i said it with juyeon but kevin moon is also best bf ever ok you cannot convince me otherwise. 

and that’s how it goes :)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for this weird-ass couple)

[zodiyack]

Born To Die

Requested by anon: Can you do a imagine with Tommy Shelby? A song fic maybe Lana Del Rey's Born To Die but fluffy and angsty?

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, *in Italian voice* mention of mafia stuff, mention of death, death not Reader’s or Tommy’s, fluff

Song: Born To Die by Lana Del Rey

Note: I can’t remember if they say how their mother died, I’m guessing it was when she gave birth to Finn, I dunno, I’m assuming so because...yeah idk. I hope you like it!

Edit: OH SHIT I JUST REALIZED I REMEMBER WHEN HER DEATH IS MENTIONED- I'M BIG DUMB LMAO

Lyrics = Bold + Italic | Memories = Italic | Thoughts = Apostrophe + Italic + Apostrophe

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @matth1w, @redspaceace, @simonsbluee, @jenepleurepasbaby, @peakysputain​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Feet don't fail me now, take me to your finish line. Oh my heart it breaks every step that I take, but I'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine.

Walking through the city streets, is it by mistake or design? I feel so alone on a Friday night, can you make me feel like home if I tell you you're mine?

Tommy sighed, watching the woman he loved walk angerly out the door of his office. He informed her of the Changretta’s vendetta and how she would need to leave him to live. He told her that he didn’t care whether or not she wanted to, that it was his decision because he was the one the Italians wanted to kill.

“I can fend for myself!”

“I don’t doubt that, love, but you need to leave.” He looked away, the quivering of her lip too much for him to handle. Tom almost cried, his eyes were watery and his heart was aching, he really didn’t want it to come to this. “Maybe being able to protect yourself will keep you alive if you ever need-”

“Whatever. I’m not leaving. I’ll just go home until you can change your mind or learn that I’m no coward. Perhaps when you do choose the right decision, you could come stay with me. Otherwise, enjoy your time here, Husband.” Venom dripped from the word, hitting him hard as he watched her spin around, grab her coat, and hurriedly stomp out the building. 

Y/n smiled slightly, only for a moment, responding to the sorry expression Lizzie gave her as she walked past. The smile soon dropped from her face, showing that it was only for Lizzie to see, that she too was sorry. The woman flinched as the doors slammed, rubbing the sides of her head with a deep sigh.

“Thomas. She’s right, ya know. I’ve seen that girl do some extraordinary shit. Think about it.” With that, Lizzie followed Y/n’s actions, quieter and calmer, but still leaving him to drink his sorrows away while he “thought” about everything.

He downed another shot. What had been? His hundredth shot? His desk was already a mess, his office no better, and his heart still bared the burden of knowing Y/n would either be hurt by him or hurt by the mafia. There was no loophole this time.

The girl he thought of made her way to her old home, drenched in the rain, and utterly tired. Mentally. Emotionally. Slightly Physically. She knew exactly what she was getting into; Shelby business usually always had guns involved. Pol often told her that Tommy really did love her, that he was just stubborn.

Y/n laughed mockingly. Thomas was stubborn, but stubborn could be broken with choices. So that’s what she gave Tommy. Two of the hardest choices she’d ever thrown at him. Y/n grew worried as she neared her home, the feeling in her stomach and heart. ‘What if he doesn’t follow?’

She halted in her steps, turning and looking around. He wasn’t there.

Her walking continued, this time feeling very, very, very, very, alone. Each time she passed a block, knowing she was nearing her house, she felt all hope leave her body. She felt strength, bravery, and faith deteriorate as her heart slowly tore in two.

The door to her house taunted her. It’s readiness to be opened, to have her brain laugh in self-mockery, to tease her about how stupid she was to believe Tommy would actually care.

Or maybe- he’d be behind the door. Raced her to her home to prove her wrong with a pleasant surprise. Her front door was full of tricks, and her heart was pounding with anticipation.

She opened the door, revealing the nothingness of her home. It’s interior dark and Tommy-less. Y/n didn’t know what to do. Her plan to hurt him just a little backfired into hurting her just a lot. The couch was her bed that night. She was alone.

Tommy failed her.

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry, sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough I don't know why. Keep making me laugh, lets go get high, the road is long, we carry on; try to have fun in the meantime.

Come take a walk on the wild side, Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, You like your girls insane, So choose your last words, this is the last time, Cause you and I, we were born to die.

Ever since that weekend, she’d been avoiding Tommy. She only stopped by their mansion to see Charlie and the other Shelbys, but other than that, she stayed in her old house. The Y/n Tommy knew was clinging onto the edge, praying he’d change his mind.

Tommy was too damn stubborn for his own good.

“Thomas. You have to apologize-”

“No, Pol. I don’t have to apologize nor admit that she’s right. You know why? Eh? Because she’s not. I will not have the woman I love get murdered in front of my own eyes, or at all. If Y/n is to die, I’d rather it be old age or peacefully in her sleep than by the son of the man who tried to kill her at our own wedding.” 

He knew the mafia would make it harder to prevent deaths, which he’d learned from John, and Y/n would be shown no mercy by Luca, so he took his time, for once, to think about his options.

“See? She’s escaped death once, who’s to say she won’t laugh in his face again?” Polly scoffed at her nephew, walking out the door to visit Y/n like she’d been doing for the past few days.

Y/n needed company, and Polly was the perfect person for it. She made Y/n tea and helped her unwind, allowing her to know more of her past than her own family member did. Y/n ranted to Polly, about the things she missed and the things she didn’t. About the things that made her want to lash out and the things that made her want to cry with joy.

“How’s Tommy?” Y/n spoke through sniffles.

“Horrible, still a stubborn bastard. But lets not focus on his actions in the now. Instead, why don’t you think of the things you love...no, loved, about Tommy, more specifically, how he was before the paranoia caught up to him?”

“I mean, can you blame him? His brother was-”

Polly pursed her lips, hinting to Y/n that she was not in the best of moods to be discussing anything of John’s death. Y/n stopped, looking to Pol, waiting for her to continue. “Tell me, what did Tommy do to win you over?”

“He was... kind. And very caring.”

A small boy chased a smaller girl through the woods, their bare feet crunching the leaves under them, cold air nipping at their noses and uncovered parts of their skin.

“Tommy!”

The younger girl cried as she tripped over a branch in the path. Only nine, she was sure she’d fallen in love with the twelve year old boy. He’d been sure of the same thing as well.

“It’s okay, Y/n, I’ve got you!” He raced over, jumping skillfully over the wood and dropping to his knees. His hands reached for her leg, she hissed in pain and brought her leg back towards herself. “No, you have to let me see it if I’m to help.”

“Promise you won’t hurt it more?”

“I promise.” The boy smiled brightly up at the girl before inspecting her leg. When he discovered it was nothing major, he pressed a chaste kiss to her injury, then helped her up and onto his back.

“He knew just how to make me laugh..still does,” she chuckled quietly.

“Thomas! I can’t believe you did that!” The teen girl gasped at her admirer, his story being more amusing than he’d thought. It was a relief. “Polly must’ve been pissed!”

“She was. Told me to stop doing the impressions, that it was disrespectful. But John enjoys it, so Aunt Polly doesn’t have to know everything...” They stopped, Y/n put out her cigarette and pulled Tommy’s from his mouth, putting it out as well. “It’s um..raining.”

“I know.” Y/n smirked at the boy, biting her lip shyly before extending her hand, “May I have this dance?”

“Isn’t it the boy who asks the girl?” She rolled her eyes playfully, Thomas joining her in their laughter, “Fine fine, yes, you may. As long as I lead.”

“Can’t promise you anything, princess.”

Tommy gasped, feigning offence, “Oh you didn’t-”

“Oh but I did.” Her smile made his heartbeat rush, the blush on her face mirrored his, and the dinosaurs in their stomachs evolved into giants. Once butterflies, now giants, their teen crushes never hesitated to bring them closer.

They danced, Y/n’s dress sticking to her skin like Tommy’s dress-shirt. They’d came from the church, Tommy’s story about how he talked to John in the preacher’s voice, and their Sunday Bests were now soaked with the skies tears, which their melody came from.

“Y/n?” She nodded in response. “Lets run away. Together.” He dipped her, and then pulled her back up to see her reaction. A wild, even mischievous, smile rested on her lips before he leaned forward to join their grins in a rough kiss.

“Polly will kill us, you know?”

“Oh I don’t doubt that for a second.” He pulled away from her, twirling her with his hand and basking in her giggles, “So I suppose we should think of what our final words’ll be, huh?”

Lost but now I am found. I can see but once I was blind. I was so confused as a little child, Tried to take what I could get, Scared that I couldn't find; All the answers honey.

She winced, crying out in emotional pain as the priest slapped Tommy. Pol collected her nephew, but no one came for Y/n. She was going to give up, allow the church to take her wherever they planned, but the door opened again. Polly waited by it.

The older woman blinked in surprise as the teen wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. “T-thank you.”

“You’re very welcome dear. Now, come along, we mustn’t stall.”

Ever since that day, she’d been so bothered with the curiosity of what led Polly to help her. Even now, as an adult and married to a Shelby, she was confused. Polly was still helping her, even though she wasn’t on the best terms with Tommy.

“Why?” Pol looked up. “Why’d you help me that day? Did Tommy ask you too?”

Polly thought back, smiling and shaking her head. “No.”

“Then what made you help me?”

“Nothing, Y/n. I just... I just felt the need to help. Thomas had no say in the matter, as he believed your parents were coming. I believe I... I could see his love for you. The way he looked at you, the gleam in his eyes when someone brought you up, the pep in his step whenever he went where you were. Tom was happy, and that was important... especially when their mother passed.”

Y/n nodded, a single, yet still sad, tear rolling down her cheek.

“Tommy? what’s wrong?” The 18 year old boy crawled through her window, eyes red and puffy. He mumbled something of his mother dying after giving birth to the youngest, and the last, Shelby brother. 

She felt her eyes well up with tears, knowing his pain and feeling the need to hold him close to her. 

And she did. His head rested on her chest as they drifted into a peaceful slumber, waking up with tear-stained cheeks, tired eyes, and matching red hazes across their faces.

She fell asleep with him that night. And the next. And the next. And the next. He continued coming over, crying to her, sometimes with her. Despite them not confessing their feelings for one another yet, they knew full well how in love they both were, after all, they’d kissed before.

1908 was a wild year.

But it was also the year they finally vowed to be together. The sooner three more years had passed, the sooner she’d be with the man she loved. She smiled, stretching as much as she could with a sleeping Tommy on her. The sunlight danced across his sleeping face, allowing her to admire him and all his beauty.

The sleepy smile on his face too. It showed how happy he was.

That, or how much he enjoyed the feeling of her nails combing through his hair.

Either way, they were both happy.

“That’s why I helped.”

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry, Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough I don't know why. Keep making me laugh, Lets go get high. The road is long, we carry on, Try to have fun in the meantime.

Come take a walk on the wild side, Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, you like your girls insane, Choose your last words, this is the last time, Cause you and I, we were born to die. We were born to die We were born to die.

Come and take a walk on the wild side, Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, You like your girls insane~

Luca blinked, blood in his eyes, as Y/n walked through the door and raised her gun. Thomas’ eyes widened; he was expecting Arthur, not his wife to push past him. And he certainly wasn’t expecting Arthur to just stand there, doing nothing to stop her. 

She smirked at the Italian before shooting him, the bullet passing through his head and hitting the barrel behind him. She didn’t so much as flinch as the gunshot rang throughout the building.

Changretta’s body hit the floor with a loud thud, splashing sounds following. Gin poured from the hole in it’s barrel, but no one cared. 

They were too focused on Tommy’s wife, who was tucking her gun away.

The woman looked at Tommy, a sigh of relief, possibly from the fact that he was still alive, escaped her mouth. She turned and left without saying anything.

He let out a shaky breath, speaking with pants every now and the,. “Tell your people in Chicago, that Michael Gray will sign the import licence to New York. 300 barrels of English dry gin a month.”

“Leave. All of ya. Tell your boss what you saw here today. Tell him...you don’t fuck with the Peaky Blinders.” Arthur stepped aside once the men had left. “And uh brother? I believe you have your own business to attend to?”

“What?”

Polly flicked Tommy’s ear with a shocked expression. It was not from Y/n killing Luca, though she did feel proud of the girl, but from Tommy’s stubborn dumbassery. “Quit being such a stubborn bastard and go after her, idiot!”

“Right-” He swallowed before nodding and rushing out of the building.

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry, Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough I don't know why. Keep making me laugh, Lets go get high, The road is long, we carry on, Try to have fun in the meantime.

Come take a walk on the wild side, Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain, You like your girls insane. Choose your last words, this is the last time, Cause you and I, we were born to die.

The slam of the door caused Y/n to stop and turn around. 

“What do you wa-” She started, only for her to be grabbed by the back of her neck and pulled into a kiss. Their lips fit together perfectly, dancing before separating for the horribly-timed human need of oxygen.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you-” Y/n cut him off, pulling him down by the lapels of his jacket. The rain began to pour, dousing the couple in a familiar melody. She pulled away, grinning widely. “Oh.. it’s raining. Should we head back ins-”

“I know.” She extended her arm to her husband, her action and interruption catching him by surprise. “May I have this dance?”

[catnaples]

HAIKYUU: TIME-SKIP GENERAL HEADCANONS 1

MASTERLIST

Here’s yet another post that no one asked for lmao. These are just some things that live rent-free in my head that I compiled. I’ll be slowly moving through some more requests today as long as everything goes well! ♥

SLIGHT SPOILERS (MANGA TIME-SKIP)

♥ Sugawara can crochet/knit and around the holidays or birthdays, he knits sweaters and scarves for everyone and will lowkey turn into scary Suga if they don’t wear them right away. It doesn’t matter how hot it is, wear it if you want to live

♥ Daichi and Kuroo like to exchange dad jokes whenever they see each other, and then when they use it on their former team mates they like to text each other and laugh at how their friends reacted

♥ I lowkey think Kenma would CRUSH Project Diva. 

♥ Whenever Kenma, Kuroo, Bokuto and Akaashi hang out, I think they form teams and play Project Diva on Hard mode and whoever gets the lowest scores has to pay for dinner/lunch/drinks

♥ Hinata would learn Portuguese with Oikawa so that they can speak in a language that Kageyama doesn’t know, and then they’d rub it in his face when he’s making them mad

♥ I think that Yamaguchi watches sappy kdramas with Hinata, lmao you can’t change my mind. I bet you his favorite is either Boys over Flowers or She was pretty

♥ Bokuto is all beefy and tough but the second any tiny little inconvenience hits him he's a cry baby (which I guess is kinda canon actually lmao). For example one time he was trying to help Akaashi with his work and he was stapling things and he stapled the very edge of his finger and he bawled like a child for hours

♥ Kageyama would 100% accept a sponsorship from a milk company change my mind

♥ I think that Tsukishima keeps a mass collection of collectible toy dinosaurs in his living room so that he can admire them, and will ABSOLUTELY roast anyone who tries to make a smart comment about them

♥ I also think that Tsukishima’s idea of a romantic date is to drag the unsuspecting person to a large museum and force them to listen to him prattle on about the stuff there (mainly the dinos lol)

♥ Akaashi probably slips an idea to another coworker about a manga that tells the story of an aloof spiky haired muscle man with his strong and silent best friend making their way through high school together (hint hint)

♥ Kuroo and Bokuto are bros till the end. Going out for a beer or something, just the two of them instead of forcing their quiet friends into loud conversations. They probably wear matching bro t-shirts lmao can you imagine? They make a lot of dumb decisions while drunk too ppffft. Like they steal a duck from the local park and get in trouble the next morning because they were caught on camera doing it

♥ I have this soft idea in my head that Ushijima and Tendou go out for dinner once every month and they’re sitting there drinking fancy wine and catching up on the months news, and Ushijima is just softer now than he was in high school ugh plz soft Ushi

♥ I’d like to think that Tendou would grow out his hair again and wear it in a loose man bun, almost like Kenma but not y’know? And if he started dating someone he’d probably let them braid his hair the longer it gets

♥ Okay I know that Oikawa and Iwaizumi really hate Shiratorizawa and Ushijima, but like the idea of Oiks, Iwa, Ushi and Tendou all going out for drinks every now and then to laugh and “playfully” argue about their middle and high school days kinda appeals to me.Like they’re not best friends, but they have some mutual respect for each other. Idk i love all of them and I want all of them to love each other lmao

♥ Can we also talk about Hinata and Oikawa being BFF’s? So this idea lives rent free in my head 24/7, but the idea of them getting matching tattoos in a slightly hidden place (cause VB y’know) and one day it just gets revealed and Iwa and Kags are like “Dude wth”

♥ Okay and let’s talk about another idea that lives almost rent free in my head: Bokuto traveling to Brazil with Hinata since they be best buds, and Hinata shows Bokuto where he trained and they just do a lot of dude bro things y’know? I love platonic Bokuto and Hinata so much, it actually kinda hurts lmao

♥ I feel like Kiyoko and Yachi both run popular blogs. Kiyoko runs one on being a mom, and Yachi runs one on baking and stuff. They often meet up at a cute little cafe to have a coffee and to catch up!!

♥ I think that Kiyoko and Tanaka end up having a girl and boy, and the boy has a lot of Kiyoko’s personality traits while the girl is a lot like Tanaka

♥ I’m just gonna lay it out there, I think Yachi would marry an angry looking female who’s actually even softer than Yachi herself

♥ Whenever Oikawa has a huge press meeting or something, he gets a manicure beforehand so that his hands look neat (and sometimes he’ll force Iwaizumi to come with)

♥ Sometimes Matsunn and Makki like to sneak out to Oikawa’s hotel whenever he’s back in Japan, just so they can harass and prank him for the entire night. Bonus points if they get really drunk, too

♥ Hinata and Bokuto have never had a Bang (which is a super caffeinated energy drink) and Atsumu brings some in to try from America. When they drink it, he instantly regrets that decision, because Hinata and Bokuto are literally vibrating. Which is an omen for what’s to come in about 30 seconds-

♥ Bokuto and Kuroo regularly kiss each other's cheeks and heads (only while wearing socks though) as a sign of broship. Also sometimes cuddles

♥ I would like to believe that someday after the Olympics every single character in Haikyuu gets together again and they all just end up in a large gym catching up and playing volleyball again. Oikawa and Hinata team up to play against Kageyama and Ushijima, and Iwaizumi is watching from the side with his eye out on Oiks because of his knee. And then Suga is finally setting again and there’s just so much happiness in his eyes, and Kuroo is blocking all of Kenma’s dumps. Ugh and Akaashi is setting to Bokuto again and Bokuto is literally crying while he’s spiking because he just missed playing with Akaashi so much. And Goshiki and Shirabu are actually working together and have gained mutual respect for each other even though Shirabu still makes smart remarks. Omg omg and then Tsukishima ends up playing on the same team as Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi and they’re watching him whoop ass and they’re just having flashbacks to that first training camp when they met him!! And Kenma gets to set for Hinata, and Yaku and Noya are going head to head to see who’s the better Libero! There’s too many characters that I could keep talking about So I’m gonna stop but come on that’s some real sentimental shit right there lmao. Actually you know what I’m gonna make a whole other post dedicated to this scenario lmao idk

[bepoets]

Review for Trish’s Dream Fic

Trish ( @couragedontdesertme  ) said she’d write an epilogue of the elsarik dream Fic if I made a Formal Review of the elsarik dream fic. So here we are.

Please note review should be taken VERY LIGHTLY this is more or less me re-reading the Fic and loudly yelling about things with too many exclamation points. Enjoy Trish.

Ch1

First of all imagine my fucking surprise I didn’t even know you had gotten work done on the dream fic???? Here I was thinking the link you sent me was the next chapter of city of ice and then I click on it and it saYS DREAM FIC???? E X C U S E M E oh my goodness

The first section is just so entirely domestic and beautiful and you can tell how lived in and content they are in their life as roommates. ALARIK (listen my phone autocorrects ALARIK to be in all caps and I’m too lazy to fix it so y’all are gonna have to deal with reading ALARIK’s name as if I’m yelling it every time I type it) anyway ALARIK just bringing her the chocolate croissants she loves so dearly and Elsa curling up with a book and him fretting and worrying over her being there alone all day and later... it’s just SO DOMESTIC. it’s such a small short moment but it’s so domestic and a perfect opposite of the PAIN THAT HAPPENS AFTER!!! And we al know I LOVE READING PAIN

The fact that ALARIK was only home late because he was doing tutoring to earn more money to by Elsa A PRESENT????? Shut up no one speak to me that’s true love but also PAINFUL the guilt he must feel oh my god

Elsa...stops struggling... because she doesn’t want ,,,, ALARIK ,,,, to get hurt. Because she cares for his safety more than her own because he has protected her and he is her friend and she loves him I am going to SCREAM

The fact that you use the phrase ~marching her out of the warmth of the room~ when she just used her magic to like cover the walls in frost makes my Heart burst cause idk if it was intentional or not but I just love the thought that this room has become Home to her it’s become safe and beautiful and lovely and WARM because it is full of love and friendship and companionship rather than the cold loneliness of say her ice palace of her locked room as a child. I like to think Elsa could have covered the room entirely in ice and snow and frost and it would still feel warm to her because of the love that’s developed there thank you for coming to my tedtalk

Ugh fuck hans

I have literally no words other than fuck hans for any section with hans in it I DONT even want to RECOGNIZE THAT HE EXISTS !!! Making Elsa feel like she’s nothing I am going to punch him in the eye

~ALARIK weeps over smushed chocolate croissant. End scene~

I know that it’s such a heartbreaking sad ending for that first chapter but also I really can’t stop laughing about him crying over a stepped on croissant since I know that your like planning note for that last scene was literally just some variant of ALARIK cried over a smushed croissant and that’s just such a funny IMAGE TO ME EVEN THOUGH ITS SAD

I just like to imagine ALARIK cradling the chocolate croissant in his arms like a bébé as he sobs

Ch2

I’m fucking S A D

ALARIK having like NO MONEY and just thinking about that the money he has was going to go to a gift for Elsa and the guard LAUGHING AT HIM LIKE THATS IT THATS ALL YOU HAVE?? Like shut UP HES TRYING TO SAVE HIS BELOVED

P e t t y c h a n g e HE IS TRYING MR GUARD I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW HE WORKED EXTRA TO GET THAT MONEY

ALARIK is so fucking DEVOTED I’m going to run through a goddamn wall I cannot cope. Willing to sell the clothes off his back have you ever seen an idiot more iN LOVE

ALARIK just going willingly cause he has no fight left in him and he just wants to see Elsa even if it means he gets imprisoned too oh my GOD

THE SCENE ITS THE SCENE!!!!!!!!!

STRAIGHT FROM TRISH’S SUBCONSCIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHAT STARTED IT ALL!!!!!!!!!!

ALARIK wanting to hold her hands when her hands are what are chained up and seen as dangerous and what ~make her a witch~ the absolute love and power that holds.

LET ALARIK AND ELSA HOLD HANDS

“I promised to keep you safe” the pain I feel oh mY GOD

“They’ll KILL you” they’re really out here trying to protect each other at all costs oh my god nothing matters more to the other than keeping the other safe and for that I want to cry and love them and also I want to ram their heads into the wall because wHY WONT THEY JUST PROTECT ESCH OTHER TOGETHER

The PARALLEL OH MY FUCKING GOD

the P A R A L L E L of ALARIK stilling and no longer struggling when the guards threaten Elsa’s death in the same way that Elsa stilled and stopped struggling when they threatened ALARIK’s death oh my god that broke me right there

U g h hans fuck that guy

A N N A !!!!!!!!

When I first read this,,, I DONT know why??? But for some reason??? I didn’t think Anna would be in it???? Which like thinking back on that it makes no sense of COURSE Anna would be in the FIC why would I ever think otherwise. But anyway I was so surprised when she showed up I literally gasped and went ANNA??? Out loud because I was so shocked

ALFAFA GERANIUM

ALARIK really is just so bad under pressure who thought this was a good idea

AG FOR SHORT wink wink nudge nudge cough cough

I’ll be thinking about ALARIK shouting alfafa geranium on my death bed let us never forget

“No harm, no foul” is literally the most fucking Anna line I’ve ever heard. She absolutely would say that to someone who was being question for a crime she’d be like “it’s not biggy”

Why is it that when hans says “BUT ANNA!!!” I hear it like he’s wining like a petulant child I read it like “bUT annNNAAAAA” ugh I hate him

“Don’t scream” *ALARIK’s inner monologue* “this ,, is the story of how I died”

ILL HELP YOU HELP HER ESCAPE!!!!! HELL YEA YOU WILL ANNA HELL YEA YOU WILL

Ch3

My dumbass really went “why are none of the children named neta” before remembering that is the child of Anna and Kristoff and these...are the children of Anna ,,, and .... ugh please don’t make me say his name

I would die for these kids though I love them and I want to protect them at all costs 

Johannes at 5 (and a half!!!!) being a fine soldier GOOD FOR HIM

Isak owns my entire heart from the moment he started fake crying for his mother what a star performer a true Actor he’s too good

Arendellian Royal Guards, are they guards? Or are they simply baby sitters? The world may never know

JOAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! One of the babies being named JOAN!!! Hang in there Joan!!!!!!!!! That made me cry oh my god J O A N

Bébé Isak lookout supreme with his big eyeballs and smile and goofy lil salute I love him

The fact that Elsa says she felt stupid for being lured into a false sense of security means she felt secure and safe for literally the first time since she was a child when she was with ALARIK and I cannot properly articulate how much that made me cry I love that so much that has to mean sO MUCH TO HER oh my god

“You have to get out!! Do the magic!!” NO ONE SPEAK TO ME ABOUT ANYTHING EXCEPT THIS LINE FOR THE NEXT SEVERAL MONTHS I LITERALLY WEPT

the use of DO THE MAGIC oh my god AND ELSAS HEART LIKE BREAKING BECAUSE SHE FEELS LIKE SHE CANT

DO ! THE ! MAGIC !

Brave little boy with his mother’s determination saying “be brave. That’s what mama said to tell you” oh my GOD THESE CHILDREN HAVE MY WHOLE HEART OH MY GOD

A rooster crow for the signal COUKD they be more obvious I love these kids they’re ridiculous they are truly the children of Anna

Elsa!!! Chose!! To be!!! Brave!!!

IF SHE TRIED TO SAY GOODBYE TO ELSA!!! SHE MAY NEVER LET GO!!!

SHE HAD NO WHERE TO GO!!! BUT SHE DOES BEVAUSE THERES ALARIK WAITING FOR HER BECAUSE GUESS WHAT

ALARIK IS HER HOME !!!!! HE IS HER HOME !!!! SHE CAN GO TO HIM!!!!

Queue another one of my shocked and delightfully surprised screams as I shouted KRISTOFF????? Because blonde dude driving a reindeer cart

Let’s get you somewhere safe I’m going to cry THEYRE finally together again and they can keep each other safe together as. They. Should.

They are cuddling and my heart is exploding oh my god ALARIK seems so surprised like you big dumb idiot you’re both in love with each other it’s a mutual thing get with the program

SLEEP ELSA! ITS GOING TO BE OKAY! AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN PROBABLY FOREVER! IT WILL BE!

Ch4

*queue another gasp* there’s only one bed?????

Yea I saw it coming yea I was just as shocked even so yea I got very excited about it wHAT DID YOU EXPECT

They’re cUDDLING and he went to move away and she DOESNT WANT HIM TO they could’ve been sharing a bed THIS WHOLE TIME AND I JUST WANT TO SCREAM BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY

ALARIK laying all the credit on kristoff and the kids when he’s kind of the one that steamrolled the whole plan into happening because he’s the one who showed up ALARIK please give yourself more credit

“You came back” “of course I came back... I couldnt ...” “why?” And then ALARIK refusing to meet her eyes has me absolutely weeping this is the kind of shit I THRIVE ON this is truly a gift to us all everyone say thank you Trish for these three bits of dialogue I will be thinking about them for all my days

ELSA KISSED HIM!!!!!!!!!

Yeah I do lose my shit anytime Elsa is the one to make the first move you go girl you go

THE SPICE VENDOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bringing in all my favorites I am going to cry thank you Trish I love Darius

I SUPPOSE YOU TWO HAVE FINALLY GOTTEN MARRIED

listen I SCREAMED WHEN HE SAID THAT I SQUAWKED!!!! MARRIED!!!!!!

I had been observing you two and just assumed!!!!! You would assume right mr spice vendor sir if they WERENT so stupid for so long it’s okay we understand

WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE ??? And Elsa says MARRY US? And ALARIK is going to PASS THE FUCK OUT

He literally got to finally kiss the woman he’s in love with for the first time last night and now they’re getting married poor boy is going to get WHIPLASH from how fast things are progressing but it’s okay im sure he is happy

Elsa’s little vows of just needing each other and keeping each other safe and keeping company and not needing gold or silver ugh TRUE LOVE

And ALARIK hopelessly devoted to her being like I PROMISE

“just you being there no matter what is enough” peak romance true love the devotion the dedication I’m a wreck

LE SMOOCH! LE MARRIAGE! INCREDIBLE I LOVE THEM

~end review~

Okay where is my epilogue please and thank you

[imperiusv]

I - Oh, I just died in your arms tonight

I think it was during that damned pub crawl , that i first thought of you in that way, we were kinda organizing it, if i remember correctly, i was with all my gang and Dilara too and at the time i was into her, we were flirting back and forth , but i didn’t want to make a move on her, because i was insecure , that she won’t like the real me, being so fragile at the moment, I thought to myself i wouldn’t want anything like that to fuck me up even more, I needed more time to heal and develop, so yeah for the first time in my life, I ignored and rejected  someone who had more sexual  market value than me, it was really fun, as she wanted , but yeah that’s whole different story, so back to the pub crawl, I was with Dilara the whole evening, we even got tied up in that game, but the conversation was kinda boring and stale , so I quickly proceeded to get wasted, to make her more interesting, all my squad was there too, except for the germans and i think Key didn’t come,as they had gone to the one before. It was a really good night, before i got drunk as fuck, but that evening i noticed you and was the first time  me thinking that you are actually kinda cool and cute. Funny enough you introduced me to Baptiste that evening,strangely for a person that remembers everything, this is something i can not recall even to this day. Halloween was  quite a special day for me  on that day I finally came to accepted that  i had a crush on you . That’s why my ringtone for you was that ariana grande song you hated, focus, because I finally focused on you, that you are something special, a fucked up girl I thought I could fix and in fixing her, perhaps mend my own wounds and fix myself, never have I been so wrong. I did save you from the Pit, pulled you out at the cost or my very soul, you of course repaid me in kind , I traded my freedom and who I was for you. A mistake I will never forget or forgive myself for.  It was a really posh evening , you making my make up and stuff, me making dumb jokes, cuz i didn’t know how to act around you, it was all really cute, i didn’t even realize it at the time,when we went to Indie, we all had a good time, that turkish/french girl wanted to fuck both me and Timur, but he pussied out in the last second and we didn’t have a threesome that time , which sucked, cuz she was really hot that evening and probably things between us would have been different, imagine how something so small can change a lot of stuff down the line, everything has consequences that ripple in time and change your world. We went to shots after the party, I didn’t want to spend money in the centre, as i was already spending most of my cash on booze and other dumb shit, that winter semester i spend more than five thousand bucks on booze,parties and having fun, all the hard earned cash i got in Germany, also i prefer your company rather than being with the others, which worked out great , as we clicked and had always a good time when it was just us. We tried that stupid weird game as i wanted to challenge you to do something with me, but we were too wasted and the music was too loud to hear one another, funny thing that the entire evening the slovaks were stalking us and later she was complaining.  The next big episode was the famous couples party that we hosted together for sure, we arrived for our own party fucking wasted, as you even recorded in your diary, by that time i was already really hooked into you, after the traffic lights and Halloween party,  I remember at that bloody party , that i was looking so desperately for your match , the whole kissing thing - to find your famous partner ( Shrek and Fiona,Cleopatra and Mark Anthony) i invented for you, but unlike the next such party, i didn’t have full access nor control over the drawing of the numbers, the next one was rigged af, never told you that , but i hooked up more people than Cupidonis himself. Imagine my surprise when you kissed some stranger, it was disgusting, but my fault entirely. After that i saw you kissing Alfredo in the bathroom,my heart sunk and i went outside to drown my sorrows in the vodka bottle we had hidden in the bushes, thank God for Timur. The next couple of parties you didn’t come of course - the mustache and nerds/hipsters bullshit, there was this thing with Antonio and you blowing me off , cuz i was a dick, but who cares, btw i really wrote him last year out of desperation to reach out to you in some manner to see if you still care,the fact that he didn’t even bother to reply, proves what kinda of scumbag shitty slug he is - a disgusting spineless person and a liar, he never fucking came close to kissing Justyna , let alone banging her,what a sad joke that fat wanker was and still is! So yeah through malus I managed to get you to come to the preparty at Etienne’s place for the i think it was a bad taste party or some other shit. It was such a great evening, that you ruined or I ruined , idk who is to blame, me having feelings for you or you being a slut. The whole squad was present, even fucking Pierre came , it was glorious , a night full of booze, laughs and good times, until you decided to make out with Alfredo again in front of everybody and more especially me , even after i tried to stop it from happening, I remember you said that he kissed you and you didn’t want to. but i was too wasted to remember, so yeah i was rage incarnate, damn I had so much fucking anger in my during those months and the ones after, it was like I can’t even comprehend now how can someone be some enraged all the time,i was never calm , just a whirlwind of emotions , a tornado and a volcano in one, losing complete control over the slightest of mishaps happening , i really had no control over myself back then, but yeah  , praise the Emperor, that Timur saw what I was about to do and stopped me on time, or i was gonna make an even bigger fool out of my self , punching that smug Italian faggot in the face for something that was not his fault. I ended up with Dilara in Blackroom ,but she didn’t want to play second guitar and i wasn’t in the mood to even talk to her, so she went home with some guy and as I was drinking outside, minding my own business, trying to make sense of it all, guess who came crying. You were really upset and embraced me and cried,never felt so low as you told me why you were crying, i couldn’t hold it any on and added gasoline to the fire, by confessing my feelings for you, such a beta move that was, what was I thinking or drinking. Couple of days of drama and then came my birthday, to which you actually came and brought me a cake, it was one of the sweetest things someone has ever done for me,at that time we were already good friend and texting back and forth all the time , even before we were together we had around 500 000 messages between us, which i do not know how it’s even possible. But yeah the first birthday party, it was all good, until you pulled out a Victoria and vanished on me, again i was left with a thumb in my mouth, looking like a fool. The second Birthday party  was actually Timur, Ouriel and mine’s , we did it cuz we wanted to get wasted and i didn’t want to celebrate together with them, as my redneck friends didn’t like Erasmus people and Timur needed a reason to get wasted then and on the first of December which is his actually birthday, so  technically only Pussiel’s , but yeah whatever. It was  in Yavuz’s place you didn’t want to come , but we managed to get you there , you and your green umbrella - weeks of flirtations and tension building up to the event, finally shit was going down. The party was wild, around 40 people in a top floor flat , we had hit up a casino with Timur on the days prior and had won some good money , we bought so much booze and even a disco ball , also got some amateur DJ to play EDM. I was trying to avoid you, but then you  came to me and we started talking. Soon i went from golden to drunk, and being wasted, i let go of all the dumb things that held me back , like what would people say and how will everyone react i was finally brave enough . As i looked deep into your eyes , i remember how you  bit your lips and said this will ruin everything. And it did. I took your face into my hands and                                                    Ausculor we made out probably for a good two- three minutes. But at the same time it felt like eternity and few seconds, i couldn’t really tell, my dopamine and Oxytocin receptors were exploding Inside my brain, i felt like i was high, better than cocaine, booze or whatever, we connected, body mind and soul. Release. My knees were soft , i was euphoric , literally felt like the best thing ever. You just had kissed me. As i want to end up every story with something positive i will end  it here. The next one will continue right off the bat from this one and will cover up the next couple of months as they were crucial  for the whole story. It must’ve been something you said I just died in your arms tonight It must’ve been some kind of kiss I should’ve walked away, I should’ve walked away

[shall-we-imagine]

Loosen up. (Bodyguard!Klaus Goldstein x Reader)

Requested: 66. "I like you. You're different." + 73. "You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions." From the promt list.

Genre: Fluff/idk if this also counts as suggestive? Only if you're very innocent I guess? And if you're on tumblr then you probably aren't so nvm 😂

A/N: sorry for being so inactive lately I've been busy with studying and such so I generally couldn't find it in me to write so yeah :/ (I have a trial tomorrow so like idk pray for me 😂) but here I am! ヽ(゜～゜o)ノ Also yes I'm aware this isn't how Vincent acts and he's not filthy rich but for now we're gonna let it slide okay? Cool. 😂

(Second Person Point of View)

"That's when I decided it was time to buy my fifth car; I mean who attends their first day of college with the same old cars, right?" The man laughs. You suspected that if he stopped boasting for longer than 2 seconds, he'd suffocate and die. You kind of hoped to witness that.

It'd been 2 hours already, yet you weren't allowed to leave the party until your dad says you could. You'd even tried to convince your bodyguard to let you leave without your father knowing anything of the incident, but Klaus was far too strict and responsible; he'd never do such a reckless thing.

Yeah, sure, it's good for your dad to have found such a trustworthy employee, but when you've been stuck talking to these blatantly boring and arrogant people that only viewed you as a good deal to obtain more wealth, well, let's just say: it makes you sort of wish Klaus cared less.

However, that was not the case. In fact, while all bodyguards waited outside, Klaus remained inside -only a few feet away from you at any given time. He also seemed to always be giving you a look that could only be describe as the look a mother gives when you have people over, and she's daring you to mess anything up.

Now, you weren't the stereotypical bratty child that refuses to take over their parents' company. You knew your responsibility and always hoped to make them proud; you just weren't a big fan of the world surrounding all the important people in business. Therefore, it made you yearn for messing around from time to time.

Today was one of those days. You so desperately hoped Klaus would get off your back for even just a few moments, so you could escape the exhausting setting. But he continued with the angry-mother-glare; it almost seemed like he'd gotten the expression tattooed on his face after the endless times he had to get you out of trouble.

There was definitely a bright side to that extra attention, though. You suspected Klaus had a thing for you. After all, he was known to be very good at his job; he could easily quit and get a job less demanding with an equal pay or even a bigger pay if he wanted, but he didn't. He decides to stay with a teenage girl that enjoys pushing his buttons. He was professional, so he wouldn't say anything or let it show, but you had this feeling in your guts that he at least felt intrigued by you.

And, surely, you were ready to use this to your advantage.

You glance towards the blond at the corner of the room, ensuring he was still staring (threateningly, but still staring nevertheless). His eyebrow arches slightly, sensing you were about to do something dumb. You could almost hear him think God, what is it this time?!

You focus your attention back on the man whose name you'd forgotten about 2 seconds after he introduced himself.

"So, I heard you're staying at the hotel here for the entire duration of the event." You smile sweetly.

"Yeah, I am." He takes a sip out of his drink.

You begin flirtatiously twirling a strand of your hair. "Well, how about you take me to have a look upstairs?"

Startled by the unexpected implications of your request, he chokes on his drink and starts coughing. You try your best not to appear disgusted, giving him a smile when he's done with his coughing session.

Sure enough, he agrees and links your arms together, leading you towards the exit of the section the party was held in.

"Miss (Y/N)," Klaus speaks through gritted teeth. He wore a smile and kept his voice quiet, but there was no denying he was ready to scold you. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Upstairs." You smile, playing dumb.

"What do you mean up-" after losing his calm for a second, Klaus cuts himself off to take a deep breath and let it out before proceeding. "Would you please excuse us, Mr. Knight?" Klaus bows lightly before dragging you to an empty corner.

"You think just because you're leaving with a guest, I'll allow you to go?" Klaus whispers in annoyance.

"What? Are you jealous?" You wiggle an eyebrow at him, knowing well enough that wasn't the reason (well, not the main one, at least).

Lips pulled into a pained smile, Klaus glares. "Are you asking for an insult? I think you're abusing that service I provide for you a hundred times per minute."

"Come on, Klausie; loosen up." You poke his chest with your index finger. You knew the redhead -or Mr. Knight- was probably still waiting for you, but you couldn't care less. You wanted to stretch out the process of bugging Klaus as long as possible, since it was the only way to spend time with him. It was also fun watching his nose scrunch and his eyebrows furrow in such anger. He would try to mask his frustration, but it was obvious he had a short temper when it came to you. To put it nicely, he was done with your shit.

"Don't, under any circumstances, call me Klausie." He threatens. "And I don't need to loosen up; you need to stop being so careless!"

"Sure." Rolling your eyes, you step away from him.

Before you could take two full steps, Klaus had already grabbed your arm. "Going somewhere?"

You pull your hand away. "The bathroom. Am I not allowed to answer the call of nature either?" You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"Touché." He raises his hands in defeat, but once you begin walking away, he follows.

"Where are you going?"

"Just ensuring you don't get any funny ideas." He shrugs.

Huffing, you decide to ignore him. Thankfully, he was only planning to stand near the door; it didn't seem too strange imagining Klaus walking in for "safety measures": the guy was crazy when it came to his job.

"Man, another pretty dress gone to waste." You sigh, looking into the mirror. The sparkling violet fabric clung onto your body till your waist then flowed freely, reaching to merely graze the floor. It was one of the dresses you really liked; you loved the way it showed your shoulder blades and only a portion of your back; it was sexy yet classy. The glittery purple was certainly your colour too! Alas, your dad would scold you for rewearing a dress more than he would scold you if you were to kill a person (as long as you've hidden the evidence well, that is). Murder can be covered up, but 'horrible fashion choices' cannot be hidden, according to your father. Sometimes you went against that, but most of the time, you just complied, even though it's an absolute waste of money.

"You're taking too long, you know that?" Klaus calls from outside, impatience clear in his voice.

You bite back a response when you realize there's something much better you could do. Quietly checking the stalls, you ensure you're 100% alone inside.

"Could there be a valid reason you're not responding to me?!"

Ignoring his question, you just scream in response. "Klaus! Klaus, help me!" You screech frantically.

The door bursts open, and Klaus steps inside aggressively. Before he could realize what's happening, you push him back against the door, slamming it behind him.

Smug about catching him off guard, you smirk at the taller male, whose body was closely pressed against yours. "Were you worried?" You tease.

"About losing my job? Yeah." He scoffs, turning his head away from you but not bothering to push you away.

"Why is it always about the job?" You tilt your head to meet his eyes again.

"Because I'm at work?" He states with a raised eyebrow, as if it sounded stupid for you to even ask that.

You run your hands gently over his chest; even through layers of clothing, you could still feel the firm muscles concealed by the black suit. "Well, maybe it's time for a break." You grin innocently.

"You do know you can't fool me, right?" He takes one of your hands away from him but doesn't let go of it.

Rolling your eyes, you move away from him. "I'm not fooling you; I want us to have fun! Neither one of us is enjoying this anyway." You cross your arms.

An unexpected response sparks excitement within you. "Well, what do you suggest we do?" You knew he was only being sarcastic, but it gave you a pathway for more methods to push his buttons and witness his reactions.

Closing the distance between both of you once more, you stand on the tip of your toes as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. "Oh, I have a lot of suggestions." You whisper in his ear, feeling him flinch lightly at your suggestive remark. You could tell he was trying to hide it and pretend he wasn't phased, but you'd already noticed it, and he knew it.

"You're gonna get me fired." Cheeks slightly red, he turns his head away and gently parts your bodies from each other. "God, why is it so hard to handle you? It's like dealing with a troublemaking child."

"You couldn't handle me even if I came with instructions." You stick your tongue out at him. "Plus, father won't know anything if neither one of us told him." You point out what seemed to have escaped Klaus's perception of the situation.

"You want me to lie to your father." He laughs in disbelief.

"Mmhm, not quite. More like not telling him the full truth."

"That's exactly what lying is."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"No."

"Yes."

"Okay, stop! Fine, lie! I don't know!" You fling your arms in the air out of frustration. A novel sound catches your attention, immediately flushing away the frustration. Klaus was laughing. Not sarcastically. No, a genuine laugh was echoing across the bathroom.

"I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing if we talk a walk for some fresh air and come back." He smiles. "Just this time though!"

An uncontrollable grin spreads across your face, and you immediately throw your arms around Klaus. "Thank you!"

"You gotta stop..doing..this.." He awkwardly pats your back, careful not to touch your bare skin.

"No promises!" You shrug, before grabbing his hand and rushing outside, making your way to the exit.

"Miss (Y/N)?" You freeze in your spot. "Where are you going?"

"Oh, um.." you stutter, not expecting to have to explain yourself to your companion from earlier.

"We got an emergency call; we'll be right back." Klaus, in his usual composed state, 'explains' to Mr. Knight.

"Ah, I see." Red head may be an idiot, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell something wasn't right, but he either chose to let it slide or he just didn't care. Regardless, you were thankful. "I'll be waiting for your return then." With a smile and a bow, he left and disappeared into the crowd.

"You'll catch a cold." Klaus states, watching you twirl and run around in the chilly October weather.

You weren't cold, or maybe you didn't dislike being cold. It wasn't the type of cold to make you unable to take a few proper steps and force you to do an awkward penguin walk; rather, it was the type of cold to merely caress your skin, decorating it with goosebumps. "Don't worry; I'm alright."

"Just take my jacket. Your back and shoulders are exposed; you must be cold." He spoke with such certainty that it almost made you rethink for a few moments about whether you actually felt cold or not.

"Are you worried or are you just intimidated by how sexy I look?" You strike a pose far from seducing.

Klaus, who had his jacket held out for you, resumed walking as he put his jacket back on. "You know, on second thought, it might be a good thing if you catch a cold and stay at home for a week or so." He passes by you, leaving you and your sexy pose alone.

"Hey! That was mean!" You catch up to him.

"Nothing new, then." He shrugs, a slight smirk forcing itself onto his pink lips.

You speed up a little then turn around to face him once you're slightly ahead of him; you remain walking, but backwards this time, allowing yourself to look at him during the conversation. "How could you be mean to such a beautiful lady?" You pout.

"What beautiful lady?" He looks around, pretending to search for something.

You let out a dramatic gasp. "How could y-" Your sentence was inconveniently cut off by your stumble; or perhaps, it was a slightly convenient situation when you think about it from a different perspective: Klaus, as sharp as usual, was able to grasp your arm, preventing you from falling.

"Uh, thanks." You breathe out, nodding slightly. Once you begin to straighten yourself up, Klaus lets go of your arm, only to watch you fall to the ground immediately after. "I think my heel broke.." you frown, staring at your left shoe, now with its heel lying a few inches away.

"You think?" Klaus earns a glare, urging him to put aside the sarcasm and help you up.

"Those were such a cute pair.." you sigh, placing your arm around Klaus's shoulder for support. Your arms were already hurting due to the height difference; it was like hanging from a cliff but not quite.

Klaus places an arm around your waist. "Well, I can buy you another one. You need another pair to get back to the party anyway."

"What if I don't?"

"Don't what? Get back to the party? That's not what we agreed on! Your father-"

You cut off his rant, "We'll get back there, and I'll call dad and inform him that my heel broke; he'd immediately allow me to leave. It's already late anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

######

"Yes, Klaus, I'm sure he'd let me go home if I tell him my heel broke! Of course, Klaus, there's no way he would have some other plans for me!" Your bodyguard mimicks your voice and tone (terribly), as you sit in the back of the car your dad sent with a brand new pair of shoes.

"How would I have known he would do this?!" You complain, tightening the straps of the new shoes around your ankle.

"Well, hurry up, knight dude is probably waiting for you." Arms crossed, he taps his foot impatiently. You merely groan in response.

"I can't believe he didn't even tell me he booked a room for me at the hotel! And that I have to attend the same event tomorrow too! I didn't even bring any change!"

"Um, Miss (Y/N), your father asked me to hand you this too.." the driver quietly places a small suitcase on the back seat next to you.

"There you go; he packed stuff for you." You weren't sure if Klaus was trying to tease you or comfort you, but either way, you just let out a sigh.

After a long, mentally and physically exhausting night, you were finally allowed to leave. And boy, were you delighted to recieve the news.

"This one." You pause in front of the room that had the same number on the keycard. Klaus had already placed your bag inside earlier, but it was your first time viewing the room. "At least the room is pretty." You shrug.

"Didn't think you'd admit it." Klaus chuckles. "Well, I have to go; so, good night, Miss (Y/N); I'll be back here tomorrow." He bows.

"Wait!" You stop him before he steps outside the room.

As I have reached the 100 block limit, I'll complete this in Part 2...which I'll literally post now and it'll be shorter than this cuz it's just the ending 😂

[el-d-ritch]

all evens,,

            100 character development questions           (for in depth and ooc answers, go send numbers to @somnolentis)

002. do they do anything to celebrate their birthday?

nah.

004. do they prefer being alone or with others?

i don’t really know anymore. i guess i’d lean more towards having company, but honestly the idea just makes me feel nervous now.

i know not everybody would end up thinking i’m a freak but it feels like enough would to where i probably shouldn’t even bother. i guess i could take some precautions but what’s the point of having proper friends if i can’t even tell them anything.

a lot of that is probably just baseless anxiety, i know. 

006. what sense do they most rely on?

it’s kind of hard to explain that. 

i guess my hearing used to be the best. my sight has never been that great and tbh i could probably use glasses, just never bothered to get them.

but now, it’s sort of different. there’s like a seventh sense that’s just… a knowing of things. like having a memory of something without actually having the experience. 

some things i just know. not because of sight or sound or anything i’ve learned, really. i just know.

sorry. i know that doesn’t make much sense.

008. what is their favorite fairy tale?

i really like beauty and the beast. it’s cute.

010. who they believe in love at first sight?

i don’t know. maybe. i’m not super cynical about the idea of it, anyway. but it’s been so long since i’ve felt anything even remotely like a crush that it’s hard to really say.

012. what makes your character embarrassed?

god. so many things.

i think the worst is when people make tentacle or vore jokes. it’s so embarrassing. like both for myself and for them. as if i haven’t heard them all already.

014. detail one secret shame your character feels.

everything about me physically probably. not exactly a secret. i don’t have much else to be ashamed about i guess other than how monumentally stupid i was when i was younger.

rest under read-more because this is so many fucking asks, dude.

016. what is their choice of weapon?

i used to really like swords.

but

swords in the real world is fucking dumb, so a pistol, i guess. i learned that the hard way. hands on weapons don’t mean shit when you’re going against a bullet.

that among other things i’m capable of.

018. your character wakes up to find that war has been declared. What do they do?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

become a hermit in the woods once and for all i guess.  

020. what are their hobbies?

i really like learning about space. that’s one thing about me that hasn’t really changed at all.

collecting different sorts of hats. i have every color i think. which is dumb because i wear the same one every day.

i’ve kind of gotten into photography lately, if only because there’s a lot of beautiful scenery around the forest and the city. feels like it would be kind of a waste to not document some of it, you know?

plus dave really likes coming with me whenever i decide to go on a walk around the woods. i’ve let him take a few pictures before and they all look like shit but it’s kind of endearing to look at. i put them on the fridge.

022. what is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen?

sort of relevant to the last one, but still space.

there’s something so calming about looking up at the stars and knowing just how insignificant you are. the idea used to unnerve me but now it makes me feel at peace knowing that no matter how badly i fuck up, it won’t mean shit in the grand scheme of the universe.

something really comforting about that.

024. what do they consider ugly in others physically?

bad hygiene like most other people although if blood is involved i don’t really care. i may as well be a vampire considering how used to it i am. it’s like i barely notice.

other than that, hell if i know. i don’t really have a place to judge aesthetics anymore. it’s all about the personality.

026. what do they consider ugly in others personality-wise?

unnecessary rudeness for sure. it’s super grating and not at all as cool as people think it makes them look.

on that note, though: people who can’t take a fucking joke. there is no faster killjoy than making a joke and having someone act like you just insulted their dead godmother. fuck.

someone who can’t just properly banter back and forth with me. i hate when talking is like pulling teeth. i hate having to be the one asking all the questions just to keep them engaged in a conversation. boring as fuck.

028. what makes them laugh out loud?

whenever dave does something especially stupid that i know i’m going to bring up in ten years just to embarrass him.

that’s always fun. 

it’s another benefit to liking photography, too. i can document it so he can’t say i’m lying. i think i’ll make a scrapbook.

030. do they believe in the afterlife?

eh. i did but it doesn’t really matter anymore if i do now. although i guess it’s kind of a given that i do to some extent considering i’m already a dead man walking.

i’m not going there anyway. to the proper afterlife, i mean. 

032. does your character believe in ghosts?

yes.

i mean.

gestures to myself. 

i’m a fucking zombie technically speaking so it would be pretty fucking hypocritical if i didn’t.

034. what’s their view of lying?

it’s stupid.

at least anything that isn’t a harmless little white lie, i guess. 

i don’t know. personally i don’t do horrendous stuff so i don’t really have much reason to lie myself. it’s not hard just to tell the truth.

036. how honorable is your character?

probably not that honorable. i can’t imagine anyone aspiring to me like me.

038. what bad habits do they have?

so fucking many, you don’t even wanna know.

smoking and drinking, although it doesn’t matter much because it won’t have much of an effect on me, but it’s still a bad example to set for dave. i try to avoid doing it around him at least.

uh, other than that. self harm, i guess, but it’s mostly unintentional when it happens. it’s just really easy to hurt myself.

040. what is their obsession?

what a weird question.

i don’t know, trying to be a decent brother?

042. what is their greatest achievement?

don’t really have any. i guess the fact that i’m still friends with spirit is something i’m pretty proud of.

044. what disgusts them?

not much, if anything. i’m not really a judgmental person.

046. how do they handle getting sick?

lol. i’m always sick.

048. do they have any allergies?

yes. cats. that’s all i’m aware of. idk if it still applies.

050. how does your character feel about their own mortality?

i don’t.

052. what is your character’s worst flaw?

oh, i don’t know, everything about me? have you met me?

i guess personality wise i’m pretty bearable but if you met me irl you’d realize how stupid a question this is.

054. does your character want power or authority of any kind?

no.

056. has your character ever struck someone in anger?

no. i’ve pushed someone, i guess, if that counts.

if my older brother wasn’t dead i’d probably punch him in the fucking head.

there are other people i wish i could hit, too. but they’re already gone.

058. what is your character’s idea of a perfect day?

i don’t have one, really.

060. what is your character’s attitude toward education and learning?

it’s good.

the education system sucks, though. i had a shitty time in school.

i’m really worried for dave, when he’s older. i hope he doesn’t go through the same shit i did. and if he does, i hope he doesn’t react the same way i did, too.

062. what sort of legacy does your character wish to leave behind?

i don’t really care about leaving a legacy, but

i just really want to be a good brother. someone dave will be able to look back on and actually recognize how much i cared for him.

that sounds cheesy as hell, sorry.

064. in what ways does your character annoy others?

the self deprecation probably gets pretty annoying. i’m pretty self aware of that but if i’m insulting myself, i’ll do what i want.

066. does your character prefer city life or being out in nature?

i have the luxury of being stuck in between both.

i like nature, though. i like the solitude.

and nature doesn’t judge you the way people do, either.

068. how strong is your character’s sense of responsibility? what kinds of things trigger it?

decent now, i guess. i have two jobs, i have a kid, i pay my bills. 

i used to be super irresponsible and immature but i don’t really have the choice not to be right now. so it doesn’t matter what does and doesn’t trigger it. i don’t have a choice.

070. what about your character is cowardly?

that i’d rather just stop trying rather than fix how badly some things are fucked up.

sometimes you drain yourself out so much that giving up is easier. dealing with the guilt is better than dealing with misplaced hope.

072. in a dungeons & dragons game, which class would your character be? (wizard, fighter, bard, priest, ranger, etc.)

hmmm. tough choice.

i think i’d like being a fighter. eldritch knight seems pretty fitting, after all.

074. what is your character’s favorite game?

don’t really have one right now.

i like pokemon, though. who doesn’t?

076. how do they express anger?

i’d rather not talk about that.

probably not well.

078. how emotionally stable is your character?

not.

080. how easy is it for others to read your character’s emotions?

i don’t know. haven’t been told that yet. i haven’t had a proper friend for a few years.

i used to be very easy to read in person, though. i wonder if that’s changed or not.

082. what are your character’s sleeping preferences?

anything that’s even marginally comfortable. i don’t have much for standards.

084. describe your character in one word.

complicated.

086. How would your character describe themself in one word?

and messy.

088. is your character quiet or loud?

quiet.

090. how bodily expressive is your character?

i don’t really know. it’s another thing i don’t pay attention to until someone points it out to me, and i’ve changed a lot in the past few years.

i guess i’d need an outside opinion.

092. what emotion does your character evoke in others?

fear, usually. unease, most of all.

this isn’t really me patting myself on the back. there’s an actual sort of energy that goes to it, that isn’t.. really mine. it just exists around the very nature of what i am a part of.

094. name three things most would not expect your character to be able to know.

what you’re feeling.

if you’re lying or not.

the meaning of life.

096. how do they move and carry themselves? what energy do they project?

lazily, i guess. i would imagine i look like i always want to drop dead. it’s how i feel, usually.

098. does your character like animals?

yeah. i have a cat and a dog. i love them to death. pun intended.

100. does your character dream? if so, what do they dream about?

sometimes.

of the dark and the things that crawl in it. the realm beyond ours and other things i really can’t explain.

it’s just beyond my ability to, really. it would be easier if i could just show you but i can’t.

i’m used to it. as used to it as i can be without going crazy, anyway.

but it does bleed into reality sometimes.

[danfanciesphil]

How about they meet while teaching in the same school au? I know there are already ones like this but idk

i like this one. 

thank you, honey x

It had never been Dan’s first choice, career-wise. 

As a matter of fact, throughout his university years, he’d always looked upon his graduate friends with scorn if they’d gone into predictable, un-specialist jobs like marketing or real estate - things that have nothing to do with the degrees they spent three or four years obtaining. 

But then university had ended, and Dan had been thrown, quite unprepared, into the cutthroat world of job-seeking. 

He’d tried, of course, to find jobs in his field, but as it turns out, there aren’t many people in need of sociology majors nowadays. He’d flirted with the idea of doing a masters course, but that shit is expensive, and by the time he’d gotten around to considering applications, the deadline had already passed. 

So, he’s twenty-two, fresh out of Manchester University, all but still clutching his freshers-week wristband, with no prospects whatsoever, and a rapidly depleting bank account. With his rent deadline looming over closer, he decides to just suck it up and look on his university’s ‘graduate scheme’ page. 

Marketing is definitely out, as Dan can’t stand the way people in those jobs talk. The idea of driving the young, naiive hopefuls that he once was around to different shitty flats and house shares in a company Fiat, lying through his teeth to persuade them to part with their maintenance loans for a damp-riddled, cockroach-infested prison cell is also too much to bear. 

So, with reluctance, Dan starts looking through the adverts for the one job he thinks he can just about handle, and that might have a chance of taking him on:

Teaching Assistant. 

Low pay, early mornings, and screaming adolescents five days a week. The idea of it iss not appealing. 

Nevertheless, he diligently sends out his CV and some cover letters to local secondary schools, then quickly closes all tabs pertaining to it in order to watch some Stranger Things. 

The following morning, he wakes up to an email inviting him for an interview. 

*

Four months of training, a fuck ton of reading manuals, health and safety guides, curriculums and other such palava, Dan finds himself being led down an eerily empty school corridor towards his first actual class. 

Even the tapping of his shoes against the shiny linoleum floor of this place is beginning to bring back horrible high-school memories. He shudders, asking himself for the umpteenth time why the fuck he ever took this stupid job. 

Think of the money, he tells himself. 

“…so don’t expect the students to be too enthused.” Vice Principal Green finishes, briskly striding along just ahead of Dan. 

“I’m sorry?” Dan asks.

Vice Principal Green looks over his shoulder. “I was just saying that as it’s the first day back, the students will likely be a little more… sluggish than usual.”

“Oh.” 

“Don’t worry!” Vice Principal Green says brightly, his cheeks rosy as he gives Dan a broad smile. “I’m sure you and Mr Lester will get them back into their regular rhythms soon enough!” 

“Yeah,” Dan says, smiling back. He doesn’t add that the idea of motivating a shit-ton of sullen teenagers to do schoolwork after a month and a half of fucking around all summer is petrifying. “Mr Lester? Is that-”

“That’s who you’ll be assisting for your first lesson, yes.” VP Green says, coming to a halt outside a door marked ‘Classroom 9′. “He’s been a history professor here for two years now. You’re in luck, as he’s an excellent teacher, and particularly popular amongst the students. It’s always much harder for the TA’s if the teacher is incompetent or disliked.” 

“Oh…” Dan says, feeling his stomach quiver. “Well, that’s… good, I guess.” 

“Yes, there’s no better person to get your bearings with, I assure you.” 

Dan nods, eyeing the closed door in front of them with a modicum of fear. Behind it is a class of twenty-six Year Nine students, all of whom he is going to have to help this ‘Mr Lester’ to control. 

Dan’s never liked teenagers anyway. He didn’t even like being one. 

Why the hell did he take this job?

“Well then, unless you have any more questions, it’s almost nine o’clock.” VP Green says, glancing at the watch on his wrist. “Ready to be thrown to the lions?”

Dan laughs politely, but it comes out sounding nervous and weak. Embarrassingly, VP Green places a reassuring hand on Dan’s shoulder, smiling that broad smile again. 

“Brave face, Daniel!” VP Green says. “Or should I say, Mr Howell.” 

Dan swallows, hating the sound of that already. “Right.” 

Then, VP Green is removing his hand and opening the door in front of them. 

There’s a hum of chatter amongst the students as they converse excitedly about their summers, catching up with one another after the long break. They’re sat in pairs, two to a table, though they lean across chairs and kneel beside one another in order to be able to speak with their friends. 

Just as Dan remembers it, the faint scent of Lynx body spray and that suffocating girly equivalent hovers in the air. Apart from the fact that the girls in this class seem to have Cara Delevigne eyebrows painted onto their faces, and the boys are all sporting that haircut with the shaved sides and the quiff, Dan imagines he could be walking into his own class back in Reading.

War flashbacks attack him from all sides. 

“Ah, Mr Lester,” VP Green bellows, grinning widely. “Glad to see you’ve survived the long break!” 

Dan turns his head, watching VP Green stride from the door towards the front of the classroom, over towards a wooden desk in the corner, beside which stands a tall young man in a red and black checkered shirt. 

The young man grins back, placing the papers back down upon his desk as he shakes the outstretched hand extended towards him by the Vice Principal. 

“Hah, I thought about running off and never returning, but alas-” he places a dramatic hand over his heart, gazing out at the uninterested teenagers before him. “Their thirst for knowledge is a siren call.” 

VP Green laughs heartily, clapping him on the shoulder. 

Dan just blinks in astonishment at the display. This man surely cannot be the famed ‘Mr Lester’ that was described to him a few minutes ago. 

For a start, the guy looks to be about Dan’s age. Perhaps a little older, as it’s difficult to tell with young men in their twenties, but definitely not by much. Also, he’s… attractive. 

Never once in all of Dan’s years of education has he ever felt anything more than a mild appreciation for his teachers or professors. Most of the time, he actually loathes them. 

To find one of the various downtrodden, weary, moody people Dan has had teaching him over the years attractive is something so alien to him that he can barely begin to comprehend it. 

But here is Mr Lester, looking like a damn snack in his short sleeved plaid, his thick-rimmed, scene-y glasses, and his actual goddamn skinny jeans. Dan has no idea how to respond. 

“Who’s the lanky nonce gawping at Mr Lester, sir?” A boy at the back of the class shouts, hauling Dan out of his inappropriate thoughts at once. 

Both VP Green and Mr Lester turn to the door, still smiling. 

“Ah, yes.” VP Green says, remembering Dan at last. “Everyone, take your seats now, that’s it. I’m going to introduce to you our newest Teaching Assistant, Mister Howell.” 

Dan gives the class an awkward wave. “Hi.” 

“Good morning, Mister Howell.” The class sings in one, unified, monotone.

It’s unexpected, and Dan stands like a lemon for a moment, dumbed by the strange, cult-like chant. 

“Um, g-good morning.” 

“Hey, knock it off you lot.” Mr Lester says around a wry smile. “He knows this isn’t Primary School. No more teasing the new TA on his first day, alright?” 

The class chuckles, and Phil grins at them all, shaking his head in mock-disapproval. His tongue peeks through the thin gap between his two rows of teeth as he smiles; Dan instantly melts at the sight of this. 

“Right, well I’ll be leaving you in Mr Lester’s capable hands,” VP Green says to Dan, clapping him once on the shoulder. He glances at Mr Lester apologetically. “Sorry, but I must run - first day back and everything. A thousand things to do. Are you alright to introduce yourselves?” 

“No problem,” Mr Lester says brightly. He places his hand on Dan’s upper back. “I’ll take care of him.” 

VP Green nods, smiling at them both before walking to the door. He waves to the class, none of whom seem to notice, and then disappears into the hall, closing the door behind him. 

Dan swallows, realising that now he is truly on his own. Well, apart from Mr Lester, that is. 

Gathering himself, Dan turns to shake Mr Lester’s hand. He has warm, large hands, which are surprisingly soft to the touch. He draws his own hand away quickly, cheeks warming as he realises what a weirdo he’s being for even noticing something like that. 

“Hey,” Mr Lester says, quieter now, so the kids won’t hear. “I’m Phil. Welcome to the Algerian War.” 

“Cool, I’m Dan- wait, what?” 

Phil just grins enigmatically, then spins on his heel to face the front of the class. 

“Right gang! We’ve got an hour.” Phil says, clapping his hands together. “You know the drill, get the tables out of the way, c’mon.” 

“Um…” Dan stutters. “Sorry, what is happening right now?” 

Phil laughs at Dan’s bewildered expression as the students hop animatedly out of their seats. Scraping sounds fill the air as they push their tables and chairs to the edges of the room, leaving a huge space in the centre.

“You’ll see,” Phil says, whispering it into Dan’s ear. 

Not realising Phil had gotten that close, Dan shudders, somewhat embarrassingly. He can smell the toothpaste Phil must have brushed his teeth with this morning on his breath. 

Oblivious to Dan’s reaction - thank God - Phil turns his attention back to the class. “Okay, yeah, but let’s use the tables to make two sets of barricades- yep one on either side of the room. That’s it, Jonah! Yeah, stack ‘em up Katie! Why not?“

“I’m not sure they covered this in training…” Dan says as Phil walks boldly into the space created in the centre, surveying the work of the students. 

“Looks good guys!” Phil says, ignoring Dan entirely now. “Let’s get these barricades up quickly. Do you hear the people sing…?”

The students groan at the sound of Phil’s off-key singing, and Dan barks a laugh, unable to believe that Mr Lester, supposed genius history teacher, just launched into the chorus of a Les Misérables song in the middle of class. 

Phil turns to face him then, grinning happily. “Get involved, Mr Howell!” He urges, walking over to grab Dan by the arm. “Are you my TA or not?”

“Well, yeah but… what do you want me to do?” 

“Are you deaf? We’re making our barricades!” 

So, not knowing how else to proceed, Dan obediently begins helping a nearby bunch of thirteen to fourteen year olds stack the tables and chairs until they have made a pretty impressive (and moderately safe) barricade. 

“Okay!” Phil cries in a surprisingly loud, deep voice. “Right, if you’re born in the months of July to December, get on the right side of the room. If you’re born from January to June, left side.” 

Dan stays on the left as instructed, listening in wonder to whatever this peculiar, charismatic man is about to say. 

“So, the Algerian war.” Phil says, hands on his hips. “Who knows what it was about?” 

A hush falls over the classroom. Dan has to admit, even he has no clue on this one. 

“Who knows when it was?” Phil asks.

Again, he is met with silence.

“Where it was fought?” 

Phil waits, sweeping his laser-blue eyes over the blank faces. He lands on Dan, smirking. “Mr Howell? Any ideas on this one?” 

Absurdly, Dan blushes, feeling as though he’s just been singled out by one of his own teachers. He reminds himself that this is merely a replica of a traumatic time, and that he is actually in charge here, with Phil. He and Phil are - supposedly - on the same team. 

Nevertheless, he doesn’t know the answer. 

For some reason though, he decides to give it a shot. “Uh, Algeria?”

The class titters, and Phil smiles. “Good work, Mr Howell. Gold star.”

Just before Phil turns away, Dan swears he sees him wink. 

“See?” Phil asks the others. “Not all my questions are designed to trick you.” 

Over the next few minutes, Phil uses a variety of bizarre techniques to supply the class with the answers to the questions he just posed - including a game of charades, a session of mime, an actual interpretive dance, and signing. 

He is theatrical in his movements, and seems to be well aware that the class is laughing at him as he clumsily acts out the French revolution of May 1968, using every mildly offensive French stereotype in the book in order to do it. 

He laughs along with the rest of them, apparently more than happy to be the butt of their teenage jokes as long as the answer comes out eventually. Dan watches his unusual technique in amazement, finding that even he is learning, without really meaning to, as well as laughing along, enjoying himself with the others. 

Eventually, Phil moves to the front of the class, standing on his desk. He throws his arms wide, letting the groans and ‘sir, what’re you doin’ mate’ comments bounce off his chest. 

“Right!” Phil announces. “The year is 1954! It is time for the war to commence!” 

Dan raises an eyebrow, smirking at the display. 

“Those of you on the left are the Algerian natives fighting for independence from the French colony!” Phil declares, gesturing at Dan and his troop of thirteen year olds. He catches Dan’s eye, smiling mischievously. “And those of you on the right are the French military, determined to stop this uprising before it becomes outright anarchy!” 

“Wait,” Dan says, “we’re not actually gonna-”

“Trois, deux, un… fight!” Phil cries, jumping down from his desk as an unholy roar erupts throughout the class. 

To Dan’s utter horror, the students run at each other from opposing sides, their fingers becoming guns, their rulers and pencils transforming into knives and swords. 

Phil sidles over to him, nudging him in the side. “Why are you waiting on the sidelines, Dan? You’re letting the Algerians down!” 

Dan cannot speak. He watches as the students wrestle each other to the ground, fake-throttling one another, pretending to stab and wound and maim. 

Every single one of them is immersed in the imaginary bloodshed, their school-kid personalities gone for the time being. For now, Dan realises, each of these children is a soldier in the Algerian war. 

“This is amazing.” Dan can’t help saying. 

He shakes his head, marvelling as he watches a ‘French militant’ straddle a wounded ‘Algerian’, pinning her to the floor. She struggles against her oppressor’s grip in vain. 

“How dare you steal our land and our produce!” The ‘Algerian’ girl cries bitterly. “The Islamic people of Algeria were peaceful until you came and colonised us you fucking French frogs!” 

“Silence, citizen!” The ‘French militant’ snarls. “We dragged your sorry excuse for a country out of the depths of poverty! What use will this insubordination bring you? Do you know how many would die to be French?” 

The ‘Algerian’ girl spits at him. “Good for them! Because I’d rather die than become French!” 

“Then die you shall!” 

He mimes stabbing the ‘Algerian’ girl through the heart. She chokes, then falls silent, her head lolling to the side. Dan wants to give the two of them a round of applause. 

“They get really into it.” Phil muses happily, still beside Dan. “History is so much more exciting when you can really put yourself in the shoes of the people involved. That’s what I find, anyway.” 

Dan turns to Phil, feeling pretty dazed by him at this point. The azure blue of his eyes locks onto Dan’s, drowning him in skies and oceans and bubblegum ice cream. 

“You’re not like any teacher I’ve ever met.” Dan says quietly, a little dizzy still. 

The shrieks and clatters of the warring teenagers still echoes around the room, creating a strange, lively atmosphere. 

“In a good way?” 

Dan considers this. If he’d had a history teacher as cool and exciting as Phil when he was in school, he almost definitely would have learned substantially more than he did. Either that, or he’d know a lot less, because there’s an equally good chance he’d spend every history lesson staring at, and fantasising about, his hot teacher.

“Definitely a good way.” Dan answers,

Phil smirks, and Dan almost collapses at the sight of it. “That’s good.” 

“Why is that good?” 

Phil chuckles lowly. He takes a step closer to Dan, making his lungs seize up. 

“Think I might get jealous if you had a different favourite teacher to work with.” 

Dan swallows, trying very, very hard to see this obvious flirtation as something entirely platonic. 

“Well… it’s only my first lesson on my first day.” Dan says, sounding bolder than he feels. “I’ve got classes with plenty of other teachers yet.”

Phil nods, running his gaze quickly up and down Dan’s body. “I see, so you’re not picking favourites just yet?”

Dan grins at him. “Not yet.”

“Hm,” Phil nods, turning away with a smirk. All of a sudden, the bell rings. “Alright everyone, cease fire! Time to head to your next classes. Let’s get these tables back in order before we leave, shall we?”

“Wait!” A long, dark haired girl interrupts, indignant. “Sir, who won the war? Don’t leave us hanging!” 

“Ah,” Phil grins. “An excellent question, the answer to which…” He pauses dramatically. “I will be saving for next class!” 

There’s an enormous, collective groan. Dan marvels at it, wondering if he’s ever groaned in frustration at a class being cut short before. 

The students chatter animatedly as they restore order to the classroom, and Dan helps them get everything back into place. At last, they’re all filing out of the door towards their next lessons, and Dan breathes a sigh of exhaustion.

He turns to Phil, feeling a little nervous at the prospect of being alone with him. 

“Okay, well it was good to meet you.” Dan says, suddenly a polite, nervous wreck. 

Phil laughs at him, but walks over and smiles, reaching out his hand. “You too, Dan.” They shake hands, but this time Dan doesn’t let go quite as fast. “Thank you for putting up with all the madness. You actually coped pretty well! I’m impressed. Most TA’s take a while to warm up to my… methods.” 

“I’m not most TA’s.” Dan says, meaning it as a joke. 

Phil regards him with a tilted head, still smiling. “No, I get the sense you’re not.” 

Dan coughs, reddening. “Well, I should get to my next class.”

“See you in 1962?” 

“Hah,” Dan responds, “yeah.”

He turns to leave, desperately floundering for some sort of witty, charming and flirtatious remark to leave Phil with.

“Oh, Dan?” Phil asks, and Dan whirls to face him, a little too eagerly perhaps. 

“Yep?” 

“Keep me updated on your list of favourite teachers, yeah?” 

Dan smiles, nodding. “Afraid you’ve got some competition in this school?”

“Mrs Laughton might be sixty-three and have a permanent scowl tattooed onto her face, but she’s got a certain… je ne sais quoi.” Phil says, leaning back onto his desk. He gives Dan a wink. “She could steal your top spot.” 

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Dan tells him honestly. Phil smiles broadly, a glimmer of something caught in the crystal blue of his eye.

Then, because he’s embarrassed, Dan ducks out of the room. 

Needless to say, every single one of his other classes that day seems spectacularly dull. He finds himself thinking about Phil throughout most of them anyway, barely able to focus on what the teachers are saying. 

The bell rings for lunch, at last, and Dan breathes a sigh of relief, heading down to the staffroom. He’s boiling the kettle for a much needed cup of coffee when he feels a presence beside him. Startled, he looks up, straight into the blue eyes of Phil Lester. 

“So?” Phil asks, smiling cheekily. “Any new contenders for Dan’s favourite teacher?”

Dan smiles, feeling his cheeks glow with warmth. He shrugs, attempting to be enigmatic as he pours the boiling water into his mug. 

“Maybe.” 

“Ooh, mysterious.” Phil says, catching on. “Keep me guessing. I like it.”

Dan coughs, his blush deepening. “It takes a lot to impress me, I’ll have you know.” 

“Hmm, interesting.” Phil says, watching Dan pour the milk into his mug. “Maybe I’ll have to introduce a new topic next week. Something more stimulating than the Algerian war.”

Dan raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Just for me?”

“I think you underestimate my commitment to being top of your favourite teacher list.” 

“So what topic could you introduce to peak my interest?” Dan asks, smirking. 

Without a word, Phil plucks the coffee mug from Dan’s hand and takes a sip, never breaking eye contact. “Well, around the time of the Algerian war, France was going through a kind of …decadent phase, liberally speaking.”

“Decadent?” Dan echoes, preoccupied with watching how Phil’s lips curl around the rim of the mug. 

“The lefties were chagrinned about all the censorship laws and the capitalist infrastructure of the Fifth Republic, so they acted out.” Phil explains, handing Dan his coffee back. “They made saucy films, wrote erotic novels, cavorted with each other as much as possible.” 

“I’m not sure that’s classroom appropriate, Phil.” Dan laughs, feeling the butterflies begin to burst from their chrysalis’ in his belly. 

“Yeah, you’re prob’ly right.” Phil agrees, eyes dragging over Dan’s body again. 

Dan blushes, sipping his coffee and nodding. Phil stands up straight, as if he’s about to leave. Just before he does, he leans in close to Dan, their faces dangerously close. 

“Maybe we should save that lesson for after class.” 

Before Dan can respond, Phil has drifted away, already immersed in conversation with Mrs Laughton, a geography teacher. 

For fuck’s sake, Dan thinks, trying to will his brain to calm down after that unexpected comment, he absolutely cannot let himself get involved with a teacher. 

No matter how intimidatingly hot and amazing he is. 

Dan watches Phil talk animatedly at the sour-faced Mrs Laughton, and realises belatedly that he’s actually biting his lip. Fuck. This is going to be one frustrating year. 

(Part Two!)

[gyeommine]

GOT7 As Roommates

So I was reminded of the one I did for BTS (which you could find here) and I thought this would be a cute thing to do <3

(gif credits to the original owners)

JB:

(hot ass)

he strikes me as a dad type

like he’ll be kinda protective of you, making sure you don’t stay out too late and come home at the right time.

he’ll say that it’s to keep a watch on you but he lowkey misses you.

typical dad always ends up falling asleep on the sofa.

so you always have to shake him to get him to actually go to bed.

you’ll feel really awkward when you accidentally call him dad bc he basically is

“is this a new fetish or something?” “shut up im jaebum”

also just another gross male that you have to deal with.

“leader of got7 or president of the US i don’t care, just wash the dishes”

people often mistake him for your boyfriend bc you guys are weirdly comfortable around him.

he’ll probably just walk around half naked with no shame

you’ll just throw his dirty laundry to get him to put clothes on.

does get a lil’ awkward if you’re ever upset.

will shyly admit he ordered take out to cheer you up and you chill for the rest of the evening.

he’ll get quite angry if someone has upset you or work is giving you a hard time but won’t show it.

since he’s a dad for thot7 as well, just expect the guys to often be over.

reliable dad friend roommate beom ™

you always make him cringe or make fun (in a friendly way okay)

you’ll be over sitting in a weird position on the sofa you’ll just be like “the a teaser, amirite” and poor boy would die of cringe.

with that weird dinosaur laugh he has

Mark:

(oh wow i am blind from staring at the sun)

he’s so quiet you’ll honestly forget he’s home.

he’ll just be coming out the bathroom and you’ll jump out of your skin bc when the heck did this boy get back from tour ??

it’d be a strangely quiet house.

he’s more often than not tucked away in his room on his phone.

ngl, he’d probably text you instead of shout out.

but when you guys do stuff together, there’s so much giggling than can be heard from 2 flats above and below.

you guys are organized and on it.

you got that chores and housework rota down and you both know who cooks on what days for the two of you.

you’ll be best buddies with jackson

sleepovers with the three of you !!!

he’s quiet, but boy’s trustworthy and reliable (aka the perfect roommate)

no milk ?? mark’s probably already spotted and bought 3 more cartons.

you’ll be film and music buddies.

you’ll just both be in the kitchen and you’ll hear.:

“hey (y/n) listen to this!”

and you’ll be jamming around for a few hours

you guys will also have a list of movies you wanna watch together.

and when he comes back from tour: a movie night ensues. 

overall you guys would have such a chill vibe.

if you had had a hard day at work, even just entering into your apartment would relax you completely.

if you were ever stress, he’d probably suggest going on a drive.

so at like 3 am, you’d get your guys’ chill playlist up and just drive for a while.

Jackson:

(the purest)

such a caring roommate and best friend.

he’s always checking on you and asking whether you need anything.

he’s always the first guy there to give you a friendly ear or a shoulder.

he sometimes just goes on for 30 minutes with random life advice.

it’d be super endearing.

the flat would be super loud.

it’s bc he’s so excitable about everything which makes him the cutest friend to have around.

everyone knows you guys have the liveliest flat.

and you’d always wonder how this idol that works all the time has SO much energy ??!

but such charisma wow - can charm his way out of anything.

if he breaks something, he knows exactly what to do.

fills the fridge with random organic shit.

you literally pull 3 new organic smoothies out of the fridge each day.

“where the hell are you buying all this?”

he won’t even need to label it bc you know it will always be his.

he’s also kinda protective of you.

he’ll send you like a million texts bc he’s super worried that you’re not home yet and you need to be safe

it’d be a stern side that you’d rarely see from jackson, but he cares about you a lot.

he sort of feels like it’s his duty to take care of you, bc you live under the same roof an’ all that.

“jackson you’re more strict than my real dad sometimes.”

but he’d prefer it if you saw him more as your big brother or something greasy like that.

Jinyoung:

(should i be offended by this ??)

he acts like a stressed middle aged mum with 5 small kids 24/7

but it’s just you along with the 5 kids he has with jb

the flat will always be perfection, spotless, 10/10, flawless.

he’ll live passive aggressive / sassy sticky notes to remind you to close the cupboard door or something like that.

sometimes you’ll wonder why he’d ever wanna share a flat with anyone bc he could easily thrive alone.

but he lowkey loves the company you give him.

y’all could be sitting in a room together for hours and not speak and he’d love it.

idk i could also see you guys going on walks together.

but if you ever ask him anything he’s just give you a sassy response - as if it’s a chore to live with you.

dw doods, he’s lying. that’s the middle aged mum sass.

he’ll tssk, roll his eyes a lot. 

but he’s a v good listener, and would happily let you rant about your days’ work @ him and he’ll have no complaints.

you guys will have deep convos all the time.

you’ll wake up bc the kitchen light’s on at 3 am and there’s jinyoung, sitting with a glass of water.

“what are you doing jinyoung?” “i can’t sleep.” “lol neither. so what’s the meaning of life?”

and you’ll be talking until like 6 am, by which point the glass of water has magically turned into a strong mug of coffee.

Youngjae:

(NATIONAL TREASURE. 10/10 AT EVERYTHING. CUTEST // PUREST)

this is another loud apartment when it comes to the thot7 bois.

he honestly just needs protecting, someone to keep an eye on him.

he laughs a lot and it literally lightens the flat, it’s such a good vibe.

but sometimes you don’t see him for days.

he’s either writing some sweet ass music or playing video games.

but he always appreciates you checking on him, even if he gets too shy and bumbly to admit it.

he always knows how to make you feel better even if that means just smiling and curing the world of its sins

probably wants to include you with got7 outings

he doesn’t want to make you feel left out or leave you at the flat by yourself.

and if you lightly scold him for something once, he’ll be careful to always do it and he’d be such a sweetheart.

you probably do the most work within the flat but he tries every once in a while.

he’ll get super nervous if he breaks or loses something and you’ll receive an odd text from him.

so you call him to make sure he’s okay, and he’s like “oh no, i just lost your headphones” and the relief you’ll feel.

you’re always there to reassure him if he ever feels insecure about his career or anything in life.

and it’s chill bc you know he’d do the exact same for you, it’s all around a pleasant and healthy environment.

you’ll also sneak in coco even if the apartment block doesn’t allow it.

Bambam:

(he looks so soft here. i highkey loved this hair on him)

do i even need to say that this flat is gon’ be loud as fricking heck

he’d just make random loud noises most of the time and you’d have to give him a “??? wtf” look.

don’t even get me started when yugyeom comes over.

ear muffs come free with the roommate.

i joke, but its’ actually always a hella good mood boost.

our resident meme cannot stand the thought of you ever being down in the dumps so is running around the flat doing dumb shit.

you can’t go anywhere with him bc he spends 3 hours getting ready.

“bam pls we’re only going to the grocery store just wear-” “NO”

then you contemplating going to the grocery store by yourself because bam “flawless model” bam needs to like 10/10.

but you always tell him you’ve seen him without makeup or high brow clothing and he still looks great.

pranks, pranks and more pranks.

did i mention inside jokes? plenty of those.

you guys will be like kids with your own secret handshake and a password you yell before entering the apartment.

“bam why’s the door locked?” “password.” / “but bam i-” “passWORd”

and you’d sigh, and yell “I like to dab with moose” and you’re in.

let’s just imagine the mortified look mum and dad (jjp) have when they come over for the first time and you yelling that.

Yugyeom:

(omg it’s me @ kim yugyeom aka the loml)

just accept the fact you’re going to be hearing music all the time.

you guys will have like a playlist of your fave songs and you end up just stupidly dancing and singing around the house.

sometimes he’ll clear the space in the living room and just dance.

he’ll get hella blushy and shy when you walk on him though.

that’s basically how the hit the stage dance got spoiled for you.

he’s so loud as well.

he’ll probably just yell “PABO” really loud from the other side ot the apartment to get your attention.

and you run over asking yourself why you moved in with such a child.

he’ll smile wickedly as you ask him “what’s wrong”

“nothing!!” he’ll say cutely. “KIM YUGYEOM I SWEAR TO-”

oho you guys will do a lot of childish shit, prank each other.

one of those roommate situations that everyone questions why you ever moved in together bc you’re both a bad influence on the other.

but you guys are obvs like the best of friends for sure.

it’s not fun for mum and dad (jjp) when you call them dumb names and get your ass beat.

you guys are partners in crime and it’s the cutest sHUT UP NOBODY TOUCH OR TALK TO ME.

you better believe you’ll be sitting right next to each other and still be screenshotting memes, giggling your asses off.

but you’ll be so proud and gushing over his performing and how far he’s come and awwww.

but you guys will be having the 10th pillow fight before you could admit to such mushy feelings.

HONESTLY GUYS ! i got so warm and fuzzy bc i wanna be best friends with bambam and yugyeom like you have no idea. also, i am also jinyoung. i write passive aggressive sassy notes to my brother all the time bc he does dumb shit. hope you guys enjoyed ! <3

SIDE NOTE: one of my closest friends and are I are sort of like bambam / yugyeom cross friendship. but i am so done with his shit, and he’s so done with mine  - it’s chill.

[scummy-writes]

Hello~ ^^ for fun can I request what if the rfa members met Mc under different circumstances, such as not from her joining the chat but other ways. Maybe she worked briefly at Jumin's company for example or helped checked up on Elizabeth when she was ill (idk u go nuts on the circumstances) but after all of that, just for fun, what if when they were all chatting in the chatroom they found out they all met her in one way or another. I just wonder how they would of react to mc under normal yknow

_φ(*￣ω￣)ﾉ This is cute, and I usually have a few guilty pleasure daydreams of this happening to me. I can’t think of a scenario of them all knowing her. Maybe if this was all the same person? And just stretched over a time of a few months so it makes sense?

Zen

- He usually went to a local gym to work out with the machines he couldn’t afford. I mean, he’s gotta look nice, right?

- He wasn’t used to seeing women there, and he definitely wasn’t used to seeing women in baggy clothes staring at the machines

- He didn’t give it much thought. You were trying to build up some confidence- You’d get on it eventually! But he wasn’t going to stare. He needed to hurry up. He didn’t have long to work out today.

- Over the next few days, he always saw you shyly attempting to get on the machines, but he never saw you get on one

- One day, he saw you sitting on a bench outside, just looking down and thinking

- “Hey, do you mind if I join you?” 

- You looked a little spooked, but you nodded and he sat down beside you and introduced himself.

- The two of you sat quietly for a moment, before he finally decided on what to say.

- “You know, I’ve noticed you looking at the machines. I just want you to know that no one is going to judge you here, okay? Some other gyms may, but this one has been the kindest I’ve been to.”

- You didn’t really react much, just kinda still stared at your feet with a blush on your face

- “Hey, listen. I know it’s scary, and I know you’re worried of what people may think. But if anyone says anything bad, just find me! I usually come around this time every day! I can help you figure out some of the machines, alright?”

- You finally looked at him and gave him a small smile. You looked a little sad, but he hoped his words helped.

- That day you ended up excusing yourself (with a thanks) and heading on home

- But the next day he didn’t see you. Or the day after that.

- He chalked it up to you just being too shy. Which was fine- No one really liked showing off at the gym unless they were in super great shape.

- He thought about you from time to time, but imagine his surprise when the girl in the chatroom knew him after he sent a selfie!

- He was...actually really happy to know you were doing okay. He was worried about you after how sad you looked!

Yoosung

- He never really paid attention in most of his classes

- Sure, he tried! But...He was tired, and zoned out a lot.

- He knew you from his sociology class. He thought it’d be neat, but he ended up not understanding most of it.

- You, though, were one of the few people that actually spoke up in the class. Debated certain subjects with the teacher- asked really good questions

- And you were one of the people who didn’t let the teacher know he forgot homework, even though you talked to him so much.

- Basically, he thought you were really smart. But...Totally out of his league. Girls like you never really played video games, or liked guys who played...

- (He got himself a little annoyed thinking about that, he was in the middle of class! No time to get sad!!)

- The two of you ended up bumping into each other in the library one day. There was one copy of a certain book the sociology class wanted you to write a paper on. And it was due tomorrow!

- Of course you had it, and he was stuck trying to thumb through his phone or other books to hopefully just get a snippet of information he could use for his paper.

- “Yoosung?”

- He nearly yelped. He wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to him! Even you, for that matter!

- “Are you working on the paper too? I can share this book with you, if you need it. Maybe we can help each other out?”

- You were his fucking savior.

- The two of you ended up spending a few hours working on the essay- You even helped him with his if he promised to proof-read yours. He was lowkey kind of jealous that you did your papers at last minute, but got a better grade than him.

- But afterwards, he was just too shy to try talking to you again

- So when he heard your name in the chat, he went off on how he knew a girl by the same name

- “Oh, I know a guy named Yoosung too! We, ah, don’t really talk, but he’s in one of my classes.”

-”...Sociology?”

-”OMG”

- Now he was even more determined to try and talk to you

Seven

-Look, he had to get all that Dr Pep from somewhere

- He was a regular at the little grocery store you worked in. He usually came around the same time, always paid with cash, and almost always got a shitton of Dr Pep

- God forbid you guys have a sale on it

- But he was nice, sweet. Always cracking jokes, always willing to try and make you laugh if you were looking rough

- There were a few times when he’d step in-between a you and an angry customer, and you were always so thankful because he usually made a dumb joke or two to lighten up the situation

- Pretty soon he had learned your name, and he usually came through your line, because you’d actually laugh at his jokes

- (I mean, the others did too, but your reaction to his horrible puns was a groan and a facepalm- He loved it)

- “I got all my dr pep to put a pep in my step!”

- “Man...Man, come on. I mean, I just had two buggies worth of groceries. You’re gonna do this to me?”

- Huge shit eating grin. Of course he was!

- When he finds out it’s you in the chatroom, he instantly wants to protect you even more.

- And, of course, the puns are now neverending. He had a list saved up for you, buddy, you were never going to escape them now

Jaehee

- Sometimes, when you were in need of good coffee and free wifi, you stopped at a local coffee shop. You’d spend a while in there, and occasionally you’d run into this very busy woman.

- Okay, moreso you thought she was cute, so you lowkey looked at her every now and then the few times your paths crossed

- She’d usually get coffee and something small, sit, and pour over paper work while chugging that damn coffee down like a pro

- The two of you only interacted once- It was a crowded day and you were sitting at the only table that had an extra seat, so...She asked to join you

- You stuttered while saying yes, but she didn’t question it.

- She did catch you glancing at her every now and then, and she eventually called you out on it.

- “I’m just curious, I’m sorry.”

- “No, it’s fine. It’s just a few reports for the company I work at. I have to go in soon, but the office is out of good coffee, so...”

- The two of you talked a bit, not too much because she needed to focus on her work, but it was safe to say you had a huge crush on her

- She might have thought it was a bit cute you were so curious about her

- So when she sees the messages saying that you remember who she is, from the coffee shop, she is blushing like mad

- Someone remembers her? Her??

- But she’s secretly happy. Is this a chance to get a friend for the first time?

Jumin

- Granted, you didn’t work right beside him, but you worked in a department that knew his name....very....very...well.

- Nevermind the fact it was mainly tossed around like a curse

- I mean... Jaehee wasn’t the only one who had to deal with the cat projects he wanted to do

- You were decent at your job! Still young, still struggling with being an intern, the first time you ever had a serious job like this

- So the first time you bumped into him in the elevator, you tried your best not to stutter as you greeted him.

- “What department do you work in?”

- (The department that hates your fucking guts)

- “Oh, Uhm. The one you created, for your, erm, personal projects.”

- “Ah, how is the wine going?”

- “It’s...It’s going, haha. I’m actually turning a report in now.”

- (God, why were elevators so slow??)

- “Oh, you write the reports?”

- “Well...A lot of them, not all of them.” You thought about some of the harsh notes he had left on them, and tried not to break a sweat

- “I see, well. They’re all very good in the end. I appreciate the work your group is doing.”

- And bam, the elevator stopped for you and you just. Booked it.

- (Where the fuck are your anxiety meds holy fuck)

- When you enter the chatroom, and see it’s him, you are already kissing your future job goodbye. He was going to fire you so fast

- But.... he didn’t recognize you. Not by your name alone, at least

- When Seven pointed out you worked for him, Jumin just...Left the chatroom

- (The next time he got on, he had already read through your resume twice and talked about your current absence as well with your dept.)

[praphit]

The Conjuring 3: Licking and Stabbing

Hey, white people! - quit conjuring shit! 

STOP!

You'd think that playing around with demonic forces once would be enough, but... idk, it's like that woman or guy that you know who is toxic, but you can't stay away from them... in this case that “woman or guy” is the devil.

I've really enjoyed this franchise.

The 1st Conjuring - few possession movies have gotten it right, since "The Exorcist", but this movie was on point. I remember seeing this while on a hot date; this movie scared her right into my arms (classic). Thanks, Conjuring!

The 2nd Conjuring - there were more creepy visuals that time around

Then, there was also "Annabelle" ( a few of them), 

and "The Nun". 

Like the world needs more reasons not to want to go to church.

I have enjoyed most of these movies!

They've been about story, making us care about the characters (The Warren's), mystery.... I always have to bring up how the actors here are so much sexier than the real life people. It makes me laugh.

A more accurate casting would have been Danny DeVito and Catherine O'Hara (not that they’re not sexy, cuz they are, but they look more like the real people). 

Picture these two in a serious horror movie. Yeah... so I get it:)

But, The Conjuring Universe has never been about jump scares, torture porn, and blood-thirsty monsters (though I love those:).

Let's see if they continue on that path.

Once again, this movie starts off with a possession. Can you imagine if  demonic possessions were this common?

"Stacey couldn't make it into work today. She's been possessed. I know, I know... it's the third time this year. I keep telling her to get her life right with God, take her vitamins, and quit eating at McDonald's (demons love fast food ridden vessels), but she won't listen."

There are so many possessions that The Warren's need a company. They need to become like Orkin.

There are lessons to be learned with this recent possession:

Don't leave anything around that could be turned into a shiv. No hard objects, in general... during this exorcism, a plate flies from the kitchen and hits some priest in the head. It was frickin hilarious, but easily preventable. No mirrors, Heavy on the demon insurance (you'd think there would be in this universe), and always be ready for a physical fight.

Again, they should all know by now.

If it were ME, i'd roll up there with a gun (rubber bullets, I guess... not trying to kill the vessel), rosary beads wrapped around my fists like brass knuckles. Idk about a wooden bat (again, not trying to kill), but maybe a wiffle bat dipped in holy water. Ooo, and a pack of smokes! Gotta look cool like Constantine.

Towards the end of this exorcism, there's a young man trying to impress this young lady by being the hero to save her possessed brother.

He says LOUDLY "Take me!"  Yeah, so another lesson, no woman/man is worth being possessed over.

It also seems like they would have had this young man (dummy) under surveillance after this. They kinda show you why they didn't, but... the reason doesn't fly with me.

And the young lady! - you just watched as some demon goes from your brother into your boyfriend, and life just goes back to normal for you? Back to school, back to work, hitting up the clubs and ball games? No, she sees her brother stab people and contort his body into a pretzel, then transfer evil into her lover (it just dawned on me that they were probably getting it on with the demon inside him... that's some next level perversion). Point being, several months of therapy, with not wanting to leave your room, TOPS!

So, after the first act, I'm still really into this! You've got the story, the characters I care about - the possessed dumb dumb, his unfazed girlfriend... (who also looks REALLY young. I mean he looks like he's in his late 20's, but she looks like she's 16. Anyway...)

Lorraine Warren who's normally doing most of the work. And Ed Warren, who's normally getting his ass beat by demonic spirits.

The big problem here is the lack of thrills. This third installment is mostly story, and that would be fine, if it were a solid tale, but it's SOOOOOO SOOOOOO hauntingly boring. Like the boredom stays with you after watching the movie; you'll still sense its presence for a few hours afterwards.

I had to cleanse my palate, so I turned on "Adventure Time". 

Nothing wrong with that (i like that cartoon), but picture watching this boring movie with people. Your friends leave the room, but you remain in that room, totally silent. And when they come back you're randomly watching "Adventure Time". I think they thought I was possessed, and maybe I was... the  boredom was real.

It was like a bad lunch date. You get stuck with someone who is immensely boring. You feel like you're stuck in quicksand. It feels like 3 hours have gone by, but it's only been 10 minutes. That's this movie!

Like I said, the story is bad. Big Possessed Dumb Dumb did something awful as a result of, well, being possessed, and now The Warrens are looking for evidence to convince a judge that 'the devil made him do it'. What kind of evidence would that be exactly?!

The only thing that might work would be the devil himself walking into court (looking stereotypically devilish), 

admitting that he made him do it, and then theatrically disappearing. And in a world where we can't agree on facts anymore, I don't even think THAT would have saved the kid. They would have believed that they've all been drugged or something.

There IS an old ghost lady lurking about -  licking people, cursing them... and sometimes stabbing them. You'd think that this would make the movie exciting! But, you'd be wrong.  It could have been cool and kinky (well, not so much the cursing in the name of beelzebub - not MY thing), but the ghost lady was shy with it. Gotta own your weirdness, Ghost Lady! 

It's pretty bad when licking and stabbing becomes yawn-worthy.

Grade: F

The most exciting part of this movie (the ONLY exciting part) is a couple of appearances from a dirty, white, fat, naked guy who appears out of the shadows, and chases people around. I'll remind you that this is based off of a true story. Though, like The Warren's, I'm surprised that he wasn't made to be sexier in the movie. Imagine a clean, naked, ripped, Chris Hemsworth trying to hug people to death. That would be a totally different movie.