#im so happy Im making it through college before he retires

[did-you-fall-for-a-shooting-star]

This. This is why I love going to a small university. This man wasnt gonna let me lose points over something so stupid

Names censored bc its the freaking internet and I already tell you guys WAY to much about myself sometimes

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Can I request Wyll reacting to Tav asking him to teach you how to dance bashfully because you're secretly scared of stepping on his foot please?

Sorry for the late response my darling, busy days with work and college 😭 I will get to your other request as well soon 😘

I hope you like this one ❤️

Dancing With The Devil In The Pale Moonlight

Nights in the camp were nice, the scarlet sky peaking through the clouds gave the camp an ethereal quality. The night air was too cool for most of your camp mates, often retreating into their tents for warmth. You had always been warm blooded, never needing the warmth of the campfire on a night, perfectly happy to sit outside your tent in your casual undergarments.

It was only Karlach and Wyll that shared your love for the cold nights now, their infernal traits keeping them warm in the cool breeze, unsusceptible to the biting cold, Karlach often kept to herself, training and oblivious to anything in her surroundings in camp. In these nights you often watched Wyll from afar, he took the solace of the camp for himself, revelling in the privacy. Many a night you watched him dance alone, the way his lithe body moved gracefully behind the light of the campfire, the crackling flames making his skin look even richer and more beautiful than it already did, making him glow like a god.

Wyll's dancing was enchanting, you could tell he had an upperclass upbringing, a lower born person such as yourself could never dance with such grace. That sort of dancing was only reserved for those who attended balls and political parties, you watched in your lonely little alcove, often wondering what that area of life was like.

Nights waned and the battles became harder, each night people would retire to their tents exhausted and battle worn, every step you took was further pushing you into danger. You wanted to dance with Wyll at least once before the end, an end that was soon approaching, the tremors getting angrier the closer you were to Baldur's Gate. Tonight you would ask him if he could teach you, or even just let you watch, either way you just wanted to be near him, the Blade Of Frontiers, his infernal transformation only made you think more of him, they way he knew he was sacrificing his own being for an innocent person endeared you to him.

Wyll was practicing his prances and spins with an imaginary partner, a smile wide upon your face as you watched him, unaware of your presence. A few moments passed as you watched longingly, you could have watched him all night wishing to be his partner, it was only your need to sneeze from the pollen around you that alerted him to your presence.

"Ah... S-sorry... I just enjoy w-watching you practice" you gazed down at the floor and stumbled your words as Wyll stood still and noticed you, embarrassed for the fact you were caught watching him. Wyll tilted his head and regarded your form, he had always thought you were cute in an unassuming way, just shy and hard to open up, something he tried to encourage you to do so, with little success so far.

"It's quite alright Tav, I wouldn't mind a spectator to judge my form, I'd even prefer a partner to dance with" Wyll's voice was smooth and hypnotising to you as it always was, watching his hand reach out to your own made your heart flutter and your face frown in confusion, yet you took it nonetheless. "I-im sorry, I can't dance... I don't want to hurt you...or step on your feet" Your voice was soft and Wyll chuckled at your bashfulness, watching the redness flush your face. "Shhh Tav, I'll teach you" Wyll chuckling and his voice sounding like silk.

Wyll held one hand in his own and placed your other on his shoulder softly as he delicately grabbed your waist, causing you to blush. He moved you both softly in a simple square to introduce you to the waltz. Your mind was blank until you blurted out. "Are you teaching me to dance like a lady?!" Your face was now crimson red, a fact Wyll enjoyed, he loved to fluster a pretty lady, especially one that was now in his arms.

You could feel Wyll lean close to your ear as he whispered "of course Tav, I need someone to attend the balls with me with when I return to Baldur's Gate" you could almost feel his smirk against your skin as he moved you gently around the campsite, the hand on your waist guiding you where to go. Your smile never left your face as the dance went on, making your cheeks ache somewhat, eventually you leant your head against his shoulder, smiling against his neck.

Wyll felt the smile of your lips against his skin, leaning his own head against yours, slowing the dance down now to a more intimate one, a slow dance where only you two were present in this world. Wyll smiled against you and whispered the words "thank you". You never asked what he was thanking you for, you just wanted to continue the slow dance you were having, whether it be only just for another moment or until the sunrise, you just wanted to embrace it.

Wyll appreciated your silence even though he thanked you, you never questioned it which he was thankful for, not wanting to explain how much he loved that you still accepted him even now in his infernal form. Not many accepted him as a devil as readily as you did, and he appreciated it more than you could know, holding your hand just that little bit tighter as he felt your soft and accepting smile against his skin, feeling your eyes close with comfort and happiness. Wyll would cherish you for as long as you would let him, holding you close for tonight, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. He whispered to himself softly "I'll make my own mistakes Tav, I'm running from myself but I know you can see into my heart."

[red-n-ded]

More Charbee Prompt Rambles

I was spiraling a few hours ago but i had cookies and milk so im okay

This is part of a series I had planned that revolved around a single headcanon:

For every Bumblebee, there is the Charlie Watson that named him.

And here’s my take on the TF Animated universe.

On his first week working on the clean up ship, Bee accidentally connected to a radio on Earth. The radio was owned by Charlie and fixed up by a young genius she was babysitting. Bee listened to Charlie through the radio and listened to her music but after days of constant Smiths, he made his presence known and spoke to her by changing the channels, making his annoyance on the lack of variety clear. Charlie finds Bee amusing and they come up with a system to alternate music choices every week. Over time, their tastes seem to blend with with other and soon share more things beyond music taste. Charlie nicknames the voice Bumblebee because of the buzzing noises whenever he’s silent or choosing a song. Bee gets attached to the name and later changes his callsign to Bumblebee.

They knew each other for a few months. At that point, they each knew each other better than themselves, turning to the radio when they need someone to talk to.

Then the ship was attacked and the Autobots were stuck in stasis for 50 years.

After meeting Sari and the professor, he finds out that Charlie was Sumdac’s babysitter. Her dad and Sumdac’s dad were college friends and Charlie offered to babysit at Detroit during summer break. Hopeful and afraid, Bee asks where he could find her. Sumdac takes Bee to see Charlie at Brighton Falls. She hasn’t visited Detroit in years since her last heart attack put her in the hospital for almost a year. They find her still working at her uncle’s junkyard, which she now owns after his passing.

They never met face to face before and they were as beautifully imperfect as they could imagine.

They talk and Charlie confesses that ever since she met him, her life has been better. She moved on from her dad’s death, fixed the car, has a better relationship with her family, and even joined diving again, going to the Olympics and getting four gold medals before she retired. She never had the time to get married or have kids but she’s happy with the life she had.

Bee thanks Charlie for making his life on the ship much brighter, confessing that he was afraid of being undermined because of his size and knowing that he had someone to turn to made him feel more safe and comfortable now that he had a little safe place to go to.

Charlie is dying from heart problems so Bee tries to make every moment last before he has to go back to Detroit. They go on joyrides and learn how to swim (Bee was ecstatic to see Charlie dive for the first time) before ending the day sleeping while watching the Breakfast Club.

When Bee wakes up, he finds that Charlie passed away peacefully on his lap with a smile on her face.

He kisses her on the cheek and whispers before calling Sumdac;

“I will never forget you.”

[artific3r]

In my wait au, all the future turtles like. Settle down and get jobs and stuff. They did their time now they wanna relax and have mundane worries.

Future guys:

Raph- becomes a middle school teacher in the undercity. Before he gets his memories back, he volunteers on weekends. And gets married and divorced. After he gets his memories back, eventually, he adopts some kids, so his weekends get busier.

Donnie- starts his own tech company, and starts making and innovating prosthetics. (Im also considering making him enter a polycule with Kendra's and Jase's parents because it would be SO funny to me but idk jury's still out on that one.)

Mikey- opens a fusion craft store/tattoo parlor. I dont totally know how this would work but he does it.

Cassandra and Leo- take over the Lou Jitsu School on Ninjutsu and start running it. Cassandra specifically works on like expansion and opening new locations while Leo is just happy to train the next generation.

April- I was going to say news reporter, but tbh? I don't think thats a dream she can go back to, after everything that happened to her. Its the dream of an April that died long before April actually died.

I think she bounces around alot of stuff for a while, and lands on studying magic and eventually opening a potion shop in the undercity.

Casey jr.- I think he sticks with the present turtles and keeps helping them be heros. I dont think he particularly knows how to slow down, but i also dont think he wants to. As he gets older, eventually he gets a job working part time with a mechanic. Their name is Car Engine and they start dating Mikey on and off again

Present guys:

Unlike the future turtles, these guys dont retire, so they are still doing heroing and as such cant really open and run their own businesses. But they do get some downtime, so this is what they do with it.

Donnie: I think he takes a bunch of online college classes and gets a degree and starts like. Doing remote work for Nasa. Why would nasa accept donnies strange and unpredictable schedule? Its simply the price they pay for his intellect

Raph: Helps out at the school with Future!Casey and Future!Leo. He also volunteers every once in a while

Mikey: becomes an influencer :(

Leo: tries to become an influencer :(

Okay but actually

Mikey: Does freelance art online, and does graffiti art. Also pursues an online degree in art

Leo: okay he actually does try to become an influencer for a bit, but after that falls through he bounces around a couple things for a while.

Starts doing college classes to become a veterinarian, drops out. Helps out at the lou jitsu school for a bit, but has to stop due to his injuries during the krang invasion. I think he ends the story still figuring himself out, which is okay. Normalize not knowing what you want! He does join an improv club though.

Also meets a particular rabbit yokai who works at run of the mill pizza and they start dating 👀 👀 👀

Cassandra: Starts doing work to help provide opportunities to former convicts and stuff. Specifically, she works with the future guys to get them jobs.

April: she becomes a news reporter. Just because it wasnt what future april wants anymore doesnt mean its not what present april wants.

[agoodfictitle-shadowban]

The Price You Pay - Part 2

Wanda Maximoff x f!reader

[TPYP Masterlist]

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Life as a college student isn’t always easy, so when the opportunity to make some money by pretending to date your best friend’s sister arise, you decide to take it.

Tags: fake dating, paid dating, jealousy, possessiveness, Pietro’s bestie, darkish!wanda, no Avengers, bad life decisions, college!au, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, divorced!parents, Vision is kind of a dick, other mcu characters apparition, no proofreading (lemme know if im missing something)

Warnings: Bad language, alcohol consumption, some violence, smuttyfruity (so, 18+, minors dni, dom!Wanda, bratty!reader, hair pulling, will add warnings when we get to it)

A/n: i didn't expect the first part to do so well, but im very happy it did! Thank yall so much for the support you showed, it really helped me keep writing cause i actually scraped that chamter before rewriting it completely.

Also it seems like the no power gang won, so, there won't be powers in this fic

Tag List: @red1culous @sayah13 @princess-kennys-rats

For a hot minute, you considered telling Pietro about what happened with his sister, but then you thought better of it. You had an inkling that Wanda would strangle you if you did, and he would also likely be unhappy that you actually went with it, so for now, it was easier to keep it hidden. It could be a funny story for later, when things were over and you were both retired. At this point he should be unable to kill you. Probably.

In the meantime, you needed to get ready for the party. At least it was a casual event, so you could go in tight jeans, a simple shirt, and your trusty leather jacket. You were putting your boots on when you heard the doorbell ringing. You opened the door to find Wanda in front of you, her usual good looking self, with a red dress and long coat, her eyes adorned with black makeup that made the green pop all the more. Her newly red hair cascaded around her face and you found yourself staring maybe just a little bit too much. She was truly beautiful, and your old crush made itself known in the way your skin hummed with the desire to grab her by the waist to kiss her. You stomped the need mentally.

"Are you ready?" She asked with an annoyed voice, cracking up an eyebrow. That brought you back to reality and you nodded.

"Yeah. How are we going?"

You put your hands in your pocket, making sure you had your keys before you closed the door behind you. She pointed to the uber waiting for you on the curb.

"Okay, cool." You looked at the time. "It's thirty past eight, so, I'll consider it starting time."

She looked at you. "We're not at the party yet."

"Do you want me to go home?"

She cocked her head and approached you, her fingertips tracing your shirt's collar. "You're lucky you're so pretty," she said, before she took your hand and dragged you to the car.

You ignored the way her words made you feel, putting it on the account of your old crush on her, following her to the car. She opened the door and made a small hand gesture for you to get in. You were about to protest, but the way she looked at you made you swallow thickly and simply enter the car.

Most of the time was spent in silence, with you looking outside of the window at the leaves-chipped sun. When you reached the house your confidence from the day before had slightly eroded. Would you really be able to fool Wanda's friends as her girlfriend? You knew a lot about her through observation and from her brother, but chances were her friends knew her better. It took her opening your car door to actually remember you had to come out of the car, and when you did you took a deep breath.

She smirked slightly and grabbed your hand, pulling you to follow her inside. Even from the street you could hear the music, so when the door opened it only got worse. People were already partying and you recognized a few of them from your old high school days and some from college who lived in the area. You followed Wanda inside and she told you to wait for her while she got you some drinks. You drifted away a bit when someone called your name and you recognized Carol Danvers. You used to be in the same tennis team in middle school, until you switched to the swim team at the insistence of your dad who knew how much you liked to be in water. And he was right, you were much happier there than you ever were playing tennis.

"Hey Carol, it's been a while." She gave you a quick embrace and looked over you.

"Too long if you ask me. I wasn't expecting you to be at one of Vision's parties."

You shrugged and pointed at Wanda who was getting a drink for you. "Wands insisted that I come," you said matter of factly and the blonde looked surprised at that, but since she wasn't big on gossip, she simply nodded.

"Well, I'm glad you're here, I remember you being good at beer pong. Maybe I'll finally have a real challenge," she sent you a look, and you grinned.

"Oh, you're so on, Danvers."

"What are we on for?" A blond man inserted himself in the conversation and you recognized Vision Stark.

"Oh, Y/n and I are gonna play beer pong," Carol answered.

"Y/n? He asked with his posh accent and extended his hand for you to take, which you did. "I don't think I ever met you."

"We haven't. Who are you?" Those kinds of guys always went crazy when people didn't recognize them, and he quickly proved he wasn't an exception.

"Vision Stark. Funny you didn't know, considering you're at my party."

That's when Wanda came back, handing you a red cup. You took it and she laced your fingers together, imposing a clear lead to you, so you leaned against her like the dotting girlfriend you were supposed to be. "I brought her here, Vis," she said with a large hypocritical smile towards her ex-boyfriend. "I figured you wouldn't mind. You're so tolerant, in so many aspects of your life. A party guest shouldn't be a problem."

You pinched your lips and drank some of your alcohol. Punch. Not bad, too. Way better with the whole tension taking over the conversation too. You decided it might be a good occasion to fuck with the guy who clearly didn't expect Wanda to be here even if he was the one who invited her.

"Well, that's a pretty good party, still, not as good as the one we were having back home," you laughed, your lips finding Wanda's cheek with a colluding spark in your eyes. "I'm almost sad we came."

Carol drank her cup, looking everywhere but at you two in order to hide a smile at the way Vision just nervously moved on his feet.

"Oh, detka, don't worry, we won't stay long."

"Well. I think I'm seeing Barton and Bishop, I'm going to tell them hi," he said very awkwardly, interrupting the both of you who were just devouring each other with your eyes. You almost ignored him, Wanda even biting her bottom lip at the way you would bat your eyelashes at her.

"See you soon, Vutton," you said to the man making his exit, throwing a name haphazardly in the mix. As soon as he was away, you stopped your masquerade, or at least exaggerating as much as you did, and you turned back to Carol who was trying really hard to hide her laugh, and failing.

"Okay, I haven't seen this guy go this pale ever, I thought he was gonna turn transparent," she finally commented and you laughed, Wanda a small proud smile on her lips. This was exactly what she wanted. She leaned her lips closer to your ears so only you would hear what she had to tell you.

"Good job, this will definitely get you a reward."

This got you blushing, and you decided it didn't warrant an answer, simply wanting to not think of the way it ignited a fire in your lower abdomen.

"Huh, hm, anyway, we were talking beer pong?" You told Carol and she caught on your subject change.

"Oh, yeah, come on," she guided you through the house. She clearly came too often to those parties.

You stopped at the table and took off your jacket, throwing it at the back of a chair. Wanda went to sit on a windowsill, but not before she kissed your cheek when she noticed a specific set of eyes on you.

"For luck," she told you.

"If I get luck for all the cheek kisses I got, maybe I should ask for more," you teased, and she narrowed her eyes, considering it.

"If you win." She booped your nose and scrunched up her nose adorably. "Maybe I'll have more for you."

This was now the second time she alluded to more, and you had to remind you it was just her acting like she would with her girlfriend, nothing serious. Nothing real. So you went on to play.

Clint and Kate tried to join at some point but were barred from participating since they were way too good at the game, and you ended up going against Carol, Yelena, and finally Thor before you decided to stop playing. By then you were seriously starting to feel the buzz of the booze and decided to join Wanda - you still were clear enough to remember your role tonight - who was talking with some people she knew, still sitting on the windowsill. You approached her, a bit wobbly, and decided the best place to be was in between her legs, bringing your arm around her neck to get her attention when you took your place.

"I won lots," you told her, and she cocked a playful eyebrow.

"You also lost lots, malyshka." You hummed at that.

"So no kisses?" You pouted slightly and put your other arm around her to get her full attention. At this point, it might not have been acting anymore. You truly wanted those kisses. You wanted a lot more kisses, actually, but you would play nice, chanting in your head that this was all fake. Or most of it, on your part.

She rolled her eyes and gave up, giving you a few on the cheek. You sighed contentedly and simply melted against her after that, vaguely listening to the conversation she was having. Something about your classes. You let your eyes travel around, only to find the jealous eyes of her ex on the both of you. You decided to playfully let your hand scrape along Wanda's legs that were holding you against her, a victorious smile on your lips. You felt her react in your back, her breath deepening. Your fingertips chased around her thigh until it came closer to the inside of it, and that's when she stopped your hand, redirecting it to her knee. You let the back of your head fall on her shoulder so your lips would be close to her ear.

"Sorry, he was watching," you said. You hoped you didn't make her uncomfortable. She answered with a nod and a kiss on your neck that made your core tremble.

"It's okay." The truth was that the way you would touch her made her feel much more than she expected, to the point where she wanted to simply leave the party with you, forgetting her revenge. But she couldn't, not yet.

You ended up drifting away from her again at some point when Natasha and Steve respectively noticed you and came to kidnap you to go to the pool for whatever game they had in mind. Of course it ended up including alcohol, and if you had started to sober up, it didn't last long. You tapped out when you felt yourself reach your limits and came out the water, looking around to wherever you left your clothes. Once you found them, you looked for Wanda. Failing to locate her, you started wandering upstairs where you finally found her. With Vision.

Something in you told you to make your presence known, but another part told you to listen, so you stopped at the edge of the hallway.

"Listen, I'm sorry I cheated on you, can't you give me another chance?" That was Jasion. No, Vision, your blurry brain reminded you.

"After not only what you did but also said? Take a guess." Wanda was clearly pissed at him, which was fair. He did cheat on her.

Sounded like there was something more going on.

"Listen, it's not my fault."

"So it's not your fault you called me a freak?"

"It's not–" he interrupted himself when he noticed his voice growing angry. "You were too much for me, or so I thought. But I miss you. Please."

"Go fuck yourself," she spat out angrily before she came out of the room, only to run into you. You blinked dumbly, and the cold anger in her eyes zeroed in on you. "What did you hear?"

Her question sounded more like an order as she came closer to you. You swallowed hard and took a step back, hitting the wall. "Huuuuuh, what if I say nothing?"

"It depends, are you lying?" There was a threatening edge in her voice, and in the way she leaned closer, her eyes never wavering. The intensity of her pulled you in, and you found yourself having a hard time breathing and thinking straight, and not just because of the alcohol.

"No," you lied, and you could see she knew better. The palm of her hand found your cheek and very slowly she caressed it.

"I don't like liars." Her hand grabbed at your hair, not putting any pressure to move your head in any direction.

"I won't tell anyone."

"That's what I wanted to hear." She let go of your hair, and once again her hand was tender on your skin. "Come on, let's go home."

You nodded, incapable of looking elsewhere. She took your hand and brought you back downstairs, an uber waiting for you outside already.

The way back was as silent as when you came, helped by the fact you were trying not to doze off. You were very unsuccessful, and Wanda had to shake you when you arrived in front of your house. You mumbled something unintelligible and she helped you out of the car and to your doorstep, holding you by the waist.

"You're such a lightweight," she commented at some point and you wanted to protest, but you were too busy trying to open your door. In the end, she took your keys from you and opened, helping you to your room. You fell asleep the second you hit the bed, and she sighed at that.

Wanda sat next to your sleeping form and let her eyes admire you briefly. Her hand put back a few strands of your hair, and when she finally got up, she brought to your side a glass of water with a box of Advil for when you would wake up. She also took off your shoes so you would be comfortable. This done, she squatted next to the bed so her face leveled with yours, her fingers drawing your cheekbone.

"Oh, the things I'd do to you if you were mine…" she whispered. She took a few more seconds before she finally stood up and left you to your sleep. She'd see you tomorrow.

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which harry joins a new gym and you’re a trainer there.

a/n: happy new years loves! wishing you all a lovely and happy 2021! first fic of 2021 and im so excited to write more stories this year! to start the new year, here is boxer!harry for you, and this is for my very own timetravelathon fic challenge! if you’d like to join, please let me know, I’d love to have you on board! this story takes place in the 1990, and i know some of the songs mentioned weren’t released specifically in 1990 (just a few years after), but just pretend it was lol because they’re too good to not mention in this story hehe, but happy reading and pls reblog and leave feedback <3

thank you to @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, love you always!

WORD COUNT: 22.6k of (kinda) boxer!harry x trainer!yn filled with angst and smut

WARNINGS: mentions of abandonment and blood 

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘143’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

16 August 1990

With every move he made, Harry felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his face, down his back, and trailing down his chest. Small huffs of breath were released from his mouth, trying not to make it known that he was exhausted, but he continued until all of his energy was used up through the very end. 

“C’mon,” he muttered to himself, anticipating the certain words to be yelled out. 

He’d been going at it for a while now, muscles aching as he felt like he was about to collapse any minute. But he was determined to finish, to feel the satisfaction running through his veins, knowing that this was his best round. 

“And time!” His trainer yelled at him, clicking the stop button on his timer. 

Harry got in one last punch before putting his arms down, the soreness made his limbs feel like jello as he shook them out. The black leather punching bag was swinging back and forth, the chain that held up the speed bag rattled and slid against the metal bar. Harry loved that sound because it indicated that he was going his hardest to where the chain couldn’t keep up. 

“Nice one, kid.” Henson, his trainer said as he fist-bumped Harry’s red glove. 

Harry simply nodded in appreciation, too exhausted to speak as he placed his gloves onto his knees, leaning down as beads of sweat dripped down onto the matted floor. Several harsh breaths came out of his mouth as he sniffed in the fresh oxygen that was mixed with the musky scent of the gym. 

Benny, Harry’s best friend, exited the ring, wiping the sweat off his forehead with his arm before walking towards Harry, who was still leaning on his knees. Benny tapped Harry’s glove, making him stand up straighter, and Harry patted Benny’s back. 

“Good job out there, mate,” Harry told his best friend. Benny was in the ring with one of the other trainers, Mike, doing one of the nonstop routines. Harry liked training with Mike in the ring, but not when it was for cardio and timed rounds; he liked when it was chill, so he knew how hard he had to hit the target, which were the pads. But for the timed rounds they did, Harry was usually by the speed bags and Mike was in the ring. 

“You too, man,” Benny breathed out with a smile. 

They headed over to the bench to take their gloves off and catch a breather. The pair would do a  cardio day every Thursday to get a good, sweaty workout in, and it always left them exhausted, but definitely much stronger. 

“Hey, I’m not gonna be able to workout next Thursday,” Benny mentioned. Harry furrowed his brows as he put the end of the strap between his teeth to pull it off from the velcro, taking one glove off. 

“What? Why not?” Harry asked confusingly. They never really had to call off a workout, especially Thursdays, unless one of them was sick, but other than that, neither of them missed any workout days. 

“I’m taking the wife on a date,” Benny smirked, clearly very excited to spend some time with his wife, but Harry wasn’t amused. 

“On a Thursday? Why can’t you do that on Friday?” 

Benny rolled his eyes. “Because we both called off Friday, so we’re having a four day weekend to ourselves,” he explained. 

Harry huffed, clearly not entertained. “Guess so…” 

Benny knew Harry was always like this, ever since they were younger. The two had been so close ever since they met, now that Benny had a wife, Harry always felt like the third wheel and that he rarely saw Benny, however, that wasn’t entirely true Benny exercised with Harry every night during the weekdays, and sometimes they even grabbed a bite to eat afterward when Benny could use that time to be with his wife, Marianne. 

Harry had an overwhelming fear of abandonment, it led him to have anxieties about how Benny could just get up and walk out of his life, even though he wouldn’t. Maybe it was why Harry is so attached to him; he’s the closest to Harry and it would completely destroy him if Benny ever decided that he didn’t want to be his friend anymore. That fear only grew based on an unfortunate turn of events that happened in college, four years ago, and it left Harry to pieces. Benny had never seen Harry so broken where he literally had to pick him up and take care of him. He never wanted to see his best friend like that ever again because it absolutely crushed him. 

“It’s two days that we’re not going to be seeing each other, chill out. Didn’t know you were that in love with me,” Benny joked, hoping to lighten up Harry’s mood. Luckily, it worked because Harry breathed out a chuckle, throwing his towel at Benny’s face.

The two collected their belongings and walked over to the trainers as they always do at the end of every workout to have a light chat with them. Henson and Mike told them they did a great job and asked to confirm if they were still on for tomorrow, which Benny and Harry both agreed to. Benny also mentioned about not being able to work out next Thursday and Friday, including the reason why he wasn’t able to. 

Henson and Mike looked at each other as if they were keeping something from the two. Harry titled his head  and looked at Benny as if he was asking if he knew the reason why they were looking at each other weirdly, but Benny just shrugged his shoulders, just as clueless as Harry. 

“Are you gonna tell us why you’re acting suspiciously?” Harry asked. The two trainers both sighed defeatedly. 

“About that…” Henson started. “Next Friday…we’re closing,” he added. 

“Like, closing for the day?” Benny asked innocently, hoping they didn’t mean what he really thought. 

“No…for good,” Mike stated. Harry and Benny’s eyes both widened, words coming out of both of their mouths profusely. They were both talking over each other, disagreeing and not accepting the fact that the gym was shutting down. 

“You can’t just do that-”

“-No, we refuse to let you close down-”

“Alright, guys! Settle down. You’re starting to act like kids, for god's sake,” Henson interrupted the tantrum that was about to start. 

“You guys can’t just do that!” Benny exclaimed. 

“Why are you guys even doing that?” Harry asked. 

Mike sighed. “We mutually decided that it was best to close down because…we really need the money. My rent has been skyrocketing crazy high because more people have just decided that moving to Los Angeles is fun.” He rolled his eyes, and Harry slightly chuckled because it was true. Hollywood was the place to be and people from out of state had just figured out their new profound dream to move to one of the busiest cities. 

“Fight Night will never be forgotten, alright? We’re just ready to let this place go. Plus, the roof is leaking and the wall is tearing apart, and that’s gonna be a pain to fix,” Henson added. 

Mike and Henson were brothers and built Fight Night when they were in college. With the help of their father, they decided to build a place to gain strength and power, all while helping others defend themselves. Harry and Benny had been frequenting it ever since college, and it felt like home to them. Aside from the yelling and stuffy scent, it was a place for them to release any type of anger or stress.

Benny introduced Fight Night to Harry when he had physically picked Harry up from the ground on, what possibly was, the worst night of his life. It was something Harry looked forward to after classes, anxiously bouncing his leg up and down, waiting to get to the gym. Fight Night helped rebuild him, and now, he was in disbelief that the gym was closing. 

“We’re old as fuck now. We wanna live our lives freely. Time to retire now, don’t you think?” Mike said with a sad chuckle. They were both in their late fifties, so Harry and Benny understood why they wanted to be free of work. 

The four of them hugged it out, a very emotional and sentimental hug that was heartwarming but sad. Eyes were slightly watered before Henson pushed them and said, “We’re closing the gym next week, not fucking dying! We have time for this bullshit for an entire week.” 

Harry and Benny left the gym with bittersweet hearts, but they kept Fight Night close to them, knowing that they owed a lot to the gym and the two men who built the facility. Mike had recommended some gyms that were close by if they were still interested in boxing, which they definitely were, so they were planning to check them out first before signing up. 

“Do you wanna get something to eat?” Harry asked once they were outside of the gym. The air was humid, nothing different from inside the gym since it was summer and the sun was beginning to go down. 

“Nah, I’m good. Gonna get home to Marianne. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Benny pat Harry’s back, nodding. 

Harry waved. “See you.” He watched Benny walk away before getting into his silver 1990 BMW 5 series, sighing. He always hated going home, and he always tried staying out for as long as he possibly could. 

As he drove home, he anxiously tapped his hands on the steering wheel as he couldn’t quite keep them still. It’d been happening for a while, a lot more often than he’d like, but he couldn’t help it. 

Walking into the darkness and emptiness of his home, he sighed sadly as he sulked all the way to the restroom to shower. The hot steam relieved his achy and sore muscles, but he was hoping for this shower to also release any occurring and bad thoughts he had in his head. 

He couldn’t help but think about the gym closing down. After going there for years, he couldn’t imagine going to a new gym; he’d adapted and adjusted to Fight Night that it would take him forever to find a gym that truly made him feel wanted. He was scared, to say the least. 

Harry was never a big fan of change. He liked being comfortable and stable and didn't like to move around a lot. So, the thought of going to a different gym that wasn’t Fight Night, terrified him. It only added to the list of things that had abandoned him. 

Once he was out of the shower, white towel secured lowly on his hips, showcasing his beautiful toned torso that was filled and inked with tattoos, his pager beeped. He wondered who it was as he walked over to his nightstand, considering that it was nearing nine in the evening. 

He deeply sighed when he saw the pager read ‘345987,’ immediately knowing who it was. The pager code meaning ‘I’m horny’ could only mean it’s coming from Lizette. 

Deciding not to answer the page, Harry set his pager down before walking back to the restroom, only for his home phone to ring, causing him to stop in his steps and answer the phone. 

“Hello?” Harry answered. 

“Hey, baby,” Lizette said seductively. His brows furrowed, holding the towel to his waist as it had loosened up a bit. 

“What do you want?” 

“You know what I want…” He knew exactly what she wanted. If she hadn’t paged him, he would still know what she wanted from him since all he provided to her was sex. “Isn’t it such a coincidence that I’m outside of your door right now?” Harry didn’t say anything but pinch the bridge of his nose before hanging up. 

He walked towards his front door, sighing before opening the door that revealed Lizette on the other side, wearing a low cut top, cleavage clearly showing, and high waisted denim shorts. She leaned on the doorframe, smirking as she looked Harry up and down, noticing that he wasn’t wearing anything but a towel. Harry gulped as she stepped forward, placing her hands on his stomach before completely taking the towel off, and a smug smile plastered on her face. 

Harry lets her take over like he always did. The feel of someone else’s body holding his, and lips kissing his own and his skin was something he couldn’t compare to anything else. Harry simply only did this to have some companionship, and Lizette made him feel a lot less lonely even if she was only there to have sex with him. He enjoys it twenty-five percent of the time—the other seventy-five percent was him actually wallowing in wanting someone to love him for him. 

After they were done, Harry immediately covered himself with the blanket as Lizette got out of the bed to change back into her clothes. Even though they had sex multiple times and she’s seen him naked, there was something about the vulnerability after the sex that he didn’t want her to see because she didn’t quite deserve that if he was being honest. 

“I had fun. Call you next time,” Lizette bid him goodbye before smacking a big kiss to his cheek, leaving a lipstick stain on his skin. She walked herself out, and once Harry heard the slam of the front door closing, he cringed slightly, wiping the lipstick off. 

He turned onto his side, deeply exhaling. He didn’t feel anything but numbness—it was always like this. He used sex to cope with how he felt, but it only made it worse. Honestly, he didn’t know what else to do, so it was the only thing he turned to, other than boxing. 

Harry fell asleep in his lonely room by himself. His heart was empty and felt like an isolated building that only carried his sadness. 

The entire week had gone by in a flash — Fight Night was officially closed down for good. 

Harry and Benny helped clean the space out as they reminisced and talked about the memories that were made in that gym. A lot of the stories had to do with girls walking by the gym, glancing through the window to see men working out, and then promptly walking into the gym to try and hit on the guys. 

Harry had tried convincing Henson that he could run the gym, but he shot down the idea before Harry could convince him. 

“Kid, look. If you want to run your own gym, do it. I want you to own a gym under your name. Not mine or Mike’s. You deserve to have something of your own, and whatever that may be, work for it. Work hard for it. I know you got it in you because you’re a hard worker, determined. You need to see that for yourself.” 

A conversation that was supposed to convince Henson to let Harry run the gym turned into a sentimental series of words that Harry really needed to hear. Harry didn’t say anything else and nodded as he took in Henson’s words to his heart. Henson was someone Harry looked up to. He was an old man with wise words, and everything he said was either meaningful or mean, in a way to show tough love. So, his words were something Harry lived by. 

The following Monday after Fight Night closed, Benny and Harry were on the search for their new gym. They didn’t plan on quitting the gym after their favorite one had closed down, and Henson and Mike made them swear they wouldn’t stop working out. 

Now, the two were walking into a gym that was up the same amount of time Fight Night was. ‘Don’s Box’ was what the gym was called. The building was newly reconstructed, making the place seem more modern and a little less dingy. The space was quite big, able to fit two rings, six punching bags spread throughout, eight-speed bags, and a weight rack. The walls were painted black, but the amount of natural light from the window was plentiful enough to make the gym feel bigger and brighter. 

A decent amount of people were at the gym, sectioned off with a few kids from eight to twelve on one side, and the rest of the adults on the other. There was a good mix between women and men, and everyone hyped everyone up with motivating words and claps over the music that was playing through two speakers that were hung in the corner. 

“Can I help you?” An older man with gray hair had asked the two. He looked quite intimidating; wearing nylon sweatpants and a black long-sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows, showing his gold watch. The look he had on his face was stern as he crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. 

“Uh, yeah. We’re interested in joining your gym,” Benny told the man. The man looked the two up and down and scoffed. 

“Sure you guys are ready for that?” 

“We’ve been boxing for years, so yeah, we are.” Harry chimed in, a slightly defensive tone added to his words. 

The man glared at Harry, stepping towards him. Harry was slightly taller than him, but he knew the man could definitely take him at any given moment, but Harry wasn’t looking to fight the man, honestly. He wanted to act and look tough in front of him, so the guy wouldn’t give him any crap for it later down the road during his workouts. 

“Alright, alright. Take it easy, pa.” You interrupted, placing a hand on the man’s shoulders, making him turn his head. You raised your brows at him before tilting your head a bit, telling him to step back. The man backed off, giving Harry a snarly glance before huffing. 

“I’m just messing. Gotta know how tough my athletes are to be here,” he spoke in a lighter tone than he was to the man in front of him, putting his arm around you. 

“Thought you were gonna ‘stay on the sidelines’ and let me handle it?” You quoted your father’s words back to him, and he chuckled, putting his hands up, surrendering as he knew he couldn’t win against you. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you handle it.” Don, your father, quickly looked at Harry up and down, and you rolled your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t do anything to potential customers. He walked away and you breathed out a chuckle, scratching your head. 

“Sorry about that. You two are interested in joining?” You asked the two men in front of you. They were rather…attractive, you noticed. The one on the left was gorgeous with beautiful brown skin that looked so smooth. He was wearing a pair of red short-shorts and a white muscle tee. You noticed that he was wearing a wedding ring, so you averted your eyes off of him. The man next to him, however, was absolutely stunning. His left arm carried a sleeve-full of tattoos, and you wanted so badly to examine and look at every single one. With chocolate brown curls, his green eyes had a tad bit of a glimmer to them, not too much though, because if you were being honest, they were a bit dull, like he was exhausted and needed to let off some of the stress that he held based on how tense he looked. 

You tried not to observe and think about it too much as your ability to read individuals thrived while meeting new people. You shook it off the thought, not wanting to assume things about their lives and seem too creepy in front of new and potential members. 

“Yeah, we are. I’m Benny, by the way.” He shook your hand, smiling. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I run this place.” You offered the same smile back. Your eyes looked over at his friend, and he gave you a soft smile. “Y/N,” you repeated, taking your hand out for him to shake. 

“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he introduced fully. A beautiful name for a beautiful man, you thought. He shook your hand as you felt the softness of his skin mixed with a tad bit of roughness from the callouses, probably from heavy-lifting. 

Something about Harry introducing his full name had made you a bit weak in the knees. His deep and accented voice had made you a bit flustered as chills ran up your body. You’re acting like a fool, your subconscious told you. You were never one to show your obvious attraction for men, you were more into watching them from the side. But once Harry walked in, it seemed like you didn’t know how to keep your chill. 

“Perfect. Nice to meet you both. Signing up shouldn’t be too long—don’t want to keep you two from working out.” You led the two men to one of the offices, knocking on the wooden door to greet Jamie. “Hi. These two are looking to sign up. Do you mind helping them out?” 

“Of course! Come on in, guys,” Jamie greeted them, offering them to take a seat along with some water, which they both said yes to. 

“I have to get back to my session, but you both are in great hands. Jamie is one of our best,” you told the two. You sent an innocent wink at Jamie, which he sent one back while Harry watched the entire interaction, feeling uneasy. 

It was quite obvious how attractive and pretty you were. The moment he first saw you, his breath had immediately hitched in his throat. You had the most gorgeous face he’d ever seen, and when you spoke, your voice was soft and gentle, making Harry a bit more safe in a place he’s new to. 

Jamie had gotten their details and credit card information down before asking them if they needed a tour of the place. They both had said no, seeing as things were pretty self-explanatory and they’d been to a boxing gym before. 

They headed out of Jamie’s office and to the main floor, walking over to the heavy bags since the section was less crowded to start stretching. Harry rolled his shoulders and neck around, swinging his arms forwards and backward as he looked around the gym. 

This was something he had to get used to—being in a new place, surrounded by new people. At Fight Night, he was around the same people for four years, and he was comfortable — he was fine with it. But now, he had to go through the same process all over again. Nerves and anxiety crept up his skin as he tried to jump around lightly, warming up a bit but also trying to shake off the unwanted feelings. 

“Hey, you okay?” Benny asked concerningly as he stretched. 

Harry’s brows raised, covering up his anxiousness. “Hmm, yeah, I am. Y’know, just a, uh, new place, that’s all,” he brushed him off. 

“Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready to go, just tell me,” Benny told him before going into his bag to grab the wrapping tape. 

Harry nodded, smiling in appreciation. Benny had always been a great friend to him, and Harry was a great friend to Benny as well. They always took each other’s feelings and concerns into consideration—always making sure the other is okay. They both really appreciated it because some friends weren’t lucky enough to talk about their feelings and be that vulnerable with one another. They trusted each other; they were like brothers. 

Harry grabbed his jump rope, deciding to do a little five-minute warm-up to get his heart rate going. He faced the boxing ring to the left of him, noticing that you were in the ring, so he decided to casually watch you box. He then noticed that you had boxing pads on instead of gloves, and the people you were training were the kids that he had seen earlier. 

He watched you instruct the excited kids who were prancing around with their boxing gloves on, in every color imagined. You helped them fix their form, their stance, and their punch; telling them that they had to be quick with their hit to bring their glove back to the side of their face quickly, so their opponent doesn’t have a chance to take a hit. The kids demonstrated for you, punching your right hand that was covered with the pad. You praised all of them, of course, correcting a few things, but overall, everyone was a natural fighter. 

Harry’s heart rate definitely started to pick up, and he didn’t know if it was how fast he was jumping rope or because of the flutter he felt as he watched you interact with the kids. He truly never felt this kind of feeling where his heart picked up from the simple act of looking at someone. 

You had definitely noticed Harry staring at you from your peripheral view, and you had thought it was a simple glance, but he never looked away. So, you took the opportunity to take a quick look at him while the kids were practicing. 

Your eyes met him and you sent him a small smile, along with a wave with your boxing pads. Harry’s eyes widened, realizing that you were waving at him, and what happened next had embarrassed him even more. With how fast he was jumping, he suddenly got tangled with the rope, causing him to trip against it. Luckily, he caught his fall, but he was already embarrassed enough. 

Harry’s heart completely dropped, cheeks flushed. He couldn’t believe he had made a complete fool of himself, especially at his new gym. He so badly wanted to tell Benny that he was ready to leave, but when he looked over at his friend, he had already started his workout, being so focused and in the zone that Harry didn’t want to be a burden. 

When he turned back around to see if you were still looking, he jolted back a bit as you were behind him. 

“Are you okay?” You asked concerningly. 

“Uh, yeah. I…yeah, I’m okay. Thanks.” He cleared his throat, trying to cover up the fact that his voice almost cracked. He was so stunned by you. The way you made sure he was okay was possibly the nicest thing someone had done for him as you looked at him with your sweet eyes, and your posture was giving him your full attention. His heart pounded through his chest; the simple action and effort that was being put into this was making him overwhelmed. 

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?” You told him as you looked at him intently. He simply nodded, knowing that he couldn’t process any more words. 

You gave him one last smile before quickly going back to your students. He watched you climb into the ring so effortlessly before continuing your training class. 

Harry took a deep breath before walking over to one of the speed bags that was in the corner, hoping to hide away from the embarrassment that he felt. Wrapping his hands up, he anxiously scanned the room, noticing that everyone was doing their own thing. There was a possibility that no one else had seen him almost fall on his face, except you, which he really wished that it was the entire gym who saw him instead, not you. He lazily hit the speed bag, trying to warm up and shake off his mortification. Harry continued hitting the bag, eventually getting into a rhythm as his fists alternated between one another, along with the rhythm of the music of Montrell Jordan’s ‘This Is How We Do It.’ 

Soon enough, all the worry and stress that was in Harry’s head and body was shaken off and completely forgotten about as he focused on his strong punches, making sure to connect his mind to his muscles, so he could feel his muscles working. 

And for the time being, life wasn’t all that bad. 

A month had passed since being at Don’s Box, and Harry and Benny quite liked it. They had newer equipment and their music was always on point, playing the best of 90s R&B and Hip-Hop. It was their favorite music to listen to, especially while working out. The people there were nice and cool, never getting in each other’s way and letting everyone do their own thing while still having fun, keeping the space safe and comfortable. 

Harry found himself walking into the gym at nine at night, an hour and a half before it closed. Usually, he wouldn’t work out this late, but during the day, he had felt so unmotivated and lazy to even get out of bed. He could put the blame on Lizette because she had gone to his house the night prior, doing the same thing they always do, but he knew she wasn’t the one to blame. Something about saying no to her and having her not talk to him had physically pained him. They were in a specific arrangement, he knew that. But having someone leave him again was something he couldn’t go through. 

‘What’s Luv?’ by Fat Joe, Ja Rule, and Ashanti was playing when he set his bag down onto the ground against the wall, next to the heavy bag. He started to stretch as he took a look around; not many people were working out at this time, which he liked. 

His eyes continued to search the gym, in hopes he would find you still here. Before the slightest bit of disappointment could settle, he saw you walk out of the hallway with Jamie, smiling and laughing at something he had said. He made a face as a hint of jealousy rushed through as he saw you with Jamie. He knew that there was no point in being jealous because he barely even knew you. But for the past month that he’s been at Don’s Box, you always had this look of excitement on your face when you saw and greeted Harry. It made his stomach flutter every time you would flash him your beautiful smile as you would carry the conversation, asking him about his day and if the music was good, which he commends you for putting his favorite songs on. 

Looking away, he decided to just focus on the quick workout he could get in before the gym closed, so he retained his attention back to stretching before bending down to grab the tape from his bag to wrap his hands. 

“Uh, hi, Harry,” you smiled as you greeted him. He looked up at you. The way the light was positioned behind your head made you look like an actual angel; you were ethereal. 

He stood up and smiled softly. “Hi. How are you?” He asked, trying to contain his nerves from just looking at you. You were gorgeous, as you always are every day. You were wearing a pair of black leggings and a light pink t-shirt that was tied into a knot with the word ‘angel’ that was surrounded by wings printed in the middle. Kind of a coincidence, he thought, thinking back to when he called you an angel in his head. 

“Good, good. You’re here later than usual—without Benny too,” you pointed out, but immediately cursed at yourself for making such an odd observation and telling it to his face as if you were keeping track of the times he’s gone into the gym. 

“Yeah, I was pretty…tired during the day, so the only time I got a burst of energy was right now. And Benny is with his wife and in-laws tonight, so it’s just me tonight,” he explained with a soft chuckle. 

“Well, glad you got the chance to make it in,” you said genuinely. He simply nodded, not knowing what else to say but instead he captured himself into you as you stared at him with your captivating eyes that spoke right through him. What was happening to him? He thought. This hadn’t really happened before, and he was good at letting his walls go up and guarding his precious heart. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head out,” Jamie said, greeting you goodbye, and taking Harry out of his thoughts. “Hey, man. Have a good workout.” He shook Harry’s hand, and Harry smiled, nodding. 

“See you tomorrow,” you told Jamie, smiling a bit as you waved. Jamie left the gym, and it was just you and Harry, along with a few other people who were wrapping up their workout. 

“Are you not gonna go with him?” Harry asked, and you raised your brows in confusion. 

“Why would I go with him?” You wondered. 

“Oh, I just thought you would leave with him, y’know, your boyfriend…” he trailed off, slyly slipping in the word boyfriend in that sentence. 

You giggled, shaking your head. “No, no. Jamie isn't my boyfriend. I’ve known him since I was ten, but nothing’s ever happened between us. Besides, he has a boyfriend of his own.” Harry raised his brows in shock as his shoulders visibly relaxed. “No need to worry, Harry. I’m all yours,” you flirted a bit. You normally wouldn’t flirt so easily with someone, especially if they were a member of your gym, but something about Harry had made you release all the stress you had once you saw and talked to him. 

Harry blushed, grinning as his dimple popped out on his cheek. Your eyes lightened once you noticed that feature, making you think that he was ten times cuter than he already is. 

“You’ve been in the ring, right?” You asked curiously. Harry nodded, and the corner of your lips turned up. “Great! We have about a little less than an hour and a half, so if you’re looking for some intense cardio, I could do it with you—y’know, train you and guide you, and whatnot,” you suggested. 

If Harry’s being honest, he wasn’t planning on doing cardio today—just a few routines to get his muscles warm, but the way you’re looking at him and how you spoke to him so softly and effortlessly, he couldn’t say no. 

“Yeah, I’m up for it,” he responded. Your eye brightened, resisting the urge to squeal from excitement, telling him that you were going to get the mitts and to meet you in the ring. He chuckled slightly as you walked over to the equipment room to get the mitts. Harry quickly hit the speed bag to warm up until he saw you walk out of the room. 

He put on his gray sweater and a green packers beanie, so he could sweat more before he met you in the ring with his gloves pressed between his arm and the side of his body. You put the mitts in between your legs as Harry handed you one of the gloves. Holding onto the end of it, he put his hand inside as you pushed the glove towards him, so it would sit on his hand tightly before strapping it securely for him before proceeding to the next one. The proximity between you two was quite close as you helped him put on the gloves, and you could smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with the slightest bit of sweat, giving him that unique musk; the one that doesn’t smell horrible at all but lured you in. 

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and looked up at Harry. “Good?” He nodded, punching the gloves together to make sure they felt comfortable. “Ready?” 

“Let’s do this,” Harry said, skipping in place to warm his body up before getting into his stance. His left leg was a few feet away from his right leg as he bounced around a bit, waiting for you. 

You faintly smirked, nodding your head before you put on the mitts. Since Harry was very familiar with the mitt workouts, you figured that you didn’t need to explain what each number represented since mostly all trainers and coaches use the same numbers for the same punch. 

“Okay, let’s warm up a bit. Give me one,” you instructed. Harry put his gloves up to protect his face as you held your right mitt up. With his left hand, he punched your mitt, not giving his full strength. “Is that all you got?” You challenged, knowing that he had more power in him. 

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” he said honestly with a small pout, standing straight from his boxing stance. Usually, you would take offense to that statement, barking back a comment saying that just because you were a girl it didn’t mean you couldn’t take a hit, but you didn’t go that far into it, knowing Harry didn’t mean it that way whatsoever. 

“You’re not gonna hurt me, Harry. I’ve trained so many people—all with different body types and strengths. My hand has felt all different types of power, so hit the mitt like you mean it.” You hit his shoulder, building up his motivation. He nodded, getting back into his stance as did you. “Now, give me one.” 

This time, Harry’s glove met your mitt with full potential and force, and you took the hit well—not moving back or being stunned. 

“There you go! Keep going,” you told him, and he continued giving you jabs. ‘In Da Club’ by 50 Cent was blaring through the speakers as Harry breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Several huffs of breath came out loudly as he punched, moving and dancing around the ring with you as the two of you occasionally shifted and switched positions. 

Harry got in a few more punches before you switched it up, telling him, “1-2.” Harry jabbed with his left hand and crossed jabbed with his right hand, putting his full range of motion into his right punch. He did that combination five times as he started to feel sweat dripping down his back and the sides of his forehead. 

You were yelling out words of encouragement and motivation, praising him for his punches, to which he responded back with a better and solid punch to your mitts. 

“Nice!” You took a step back to move around the ring to take advantage of the space as Harry jumped and skipped around to wherever you directed him to. “Wanna take a break?” You asked. He shook his head no, determined to finish this workout that he couldn’t even think about wanting to take a break because he really didn’t want to. “Okay, 1-4-3,” you told him. With force, he jabbed, hooked with his left hand, and hooked with his right hand. 

This feeling that he had felt—being in the ring with you—was something entirely different than when he was in the ring with Henson or Mike. The stress that he physically carried onto his shoulder had washed away into nothingness, leaving him with a drive that didn’t include overthinking and fear. The fear that had left him worried and depressed, that his life would amount to nothing—that fear disappeared inside him once he threw the first punch. It was exhilarating and fun, and he didn’t know he could have this much fun in the ring. But this was the most pleasure he’s ever felt while boxing. 

You ordered him to do some different combinations, such as ‘1-2-3-5,’ which was a jab, cross jab, leading hook, and rear uppercut. You also included moments when he had to duck because you were swinging at him. He definitely had gotten into a rhythm, punching and moving faster. You were the trainer, the person that was supposed to instruct him, but you matched his rhythm and energy and moved quicker with him as well. 

You were starting to get a sweat in as well, and that was mostly because of the adrenaline rushing through your blood as you moved excitedly around the ring. 

After a while, a timer had gone off, telling you that it was time to close up as Harry’s focus was cut off—the sound making him look up hastily. Throughout the time you were working out with Harry, people were slowly starting to make their way out, but the two of you were too focused on working out that you hadn’t even noticed that it was just the two of you left in the gym. 

“Oh, guess we’re closing.” You stood up straighter, wiping the sweat on your forehead with your forearm. “Feelin’ good?” You asked Harry with a proud smile. 

“Feelin’ great,” he smirked. 

“Good, I’m glad. You did great!” You complimented, ripping the velcro strap with your teeth as you took off the mitts. Harry did the same, shaking out his arms as he clenched and unclenched his fists to relieve the ache from making a fist for more than an hour. 

“Thank you. You’re a really great trainer, by the way. This was…the first time I had fun in the ring,” he told you honestly, and without knowing, the slightest bit of him had opened up to you. 

Your eyes brightened, a glimpse of shimmer reflected on your eyes. “Really? Thank you, that makes me really happy, actually.” You felt like you were going to cry on the spot. No one, except your younger students, had ever told you that they had fun in the ring since most people used boxing as a way to get stronger and improve their punches. But fun? That was the first, and you would definitely keep that with you forever. 

You and Harry walked to one end of the ring as Harry held open the top two ropes with his hand as he stepped on the bottom two ropes with his foot, holding it open for you to get out. You blushed, thanking him before you got out of the ring as he followed you out. 

Once you two were on the ground, you turned around to face him. You watched as he took off his beanie, shaking his hair out as they bounced; curls were now formed into waves because of the heat and the sweat that had produced in his beanie. He looked…extra good right now. With his cheeks flushed, hair messy, and sweat dripping down his forehead, you couldn’t put into words how incredibly sexy he looked. 

You cleared your throat, not wanting to get caught for ogling him. “I, uh, have to check on some things before closing. Take your time! And I’ll see you on Monday?” You raised your brows and curled your lips in as you looked up at him. A sense of flustered-ness settled in you as you waited for his answer. 

He breathed out a chuckle as he looked down briefly before looking back into your eyes again. “Yeah, I’ll see you.” You nodded your head, waving at him before you headed over to the office. Harry smiled as he watched you walk into the hallway until he couldn’t see you anymore. 

A small blush formed onto his cheeks as he contained himself from smiling too big and too wide. He put all of his stuff back into his bag, grabbing his towel, ridding the sweat off his skin. Grabbing his belongings, he took another glance at the hallway, hoping to get another look at you before he took off, but you were occupied with closing the gym, so he didn’t bother staying any longer. 

With a small smile on his face, he walked out of the gym, taking in this new profound feeling that he’d never felt before, hoping this feeling would last. 

The next morning, Harry had a sudden urge to go back to the gym. His upper body was quite sore, but he figured he could do some leg exercises to balance the soreness he felt. He normally wouldn’t workout on the weekends since those were his rest days, but despite being sore, he didn’t feel tired. It could also do with the fact that he wanted to see you again, not wanting to wait until Monday to do that again. 

When he walked into the gym, ‘Ride Wit Me’ by Nelly was playing and his head slightly bopped to the music, walking over to the corner of the gym to warm up. He scanned the gym, looking for a particular person, but couldn’t find you. There were a decent amount of people, not too crowded or too little, so it should’ve been easy to find you. Thinking that you were probably in your office, he shook off the slight disappointment and got ready to workout. 

Throughout his workout, his head wasn’t in it. He kept glancing through the mirror to see if you had shown up, but you hadn’t. His eyes were always looking over at the front door every time someone would walk in, but a small frown settled onto his face when he realized it wasn’t you. 

He wrapped up his workout an hour later, thinking that he somewhat still got a good workout in. He walked out of the gym, saying bye to some of the guys that had caught him before he left. 

It was nearing noon when his stomach had growled, urging him to consume some food. There was a Mediterranean hole-in-the-wall restaurant right across Don’s Box, and his mouth watered at the thought of it. He walked to his car that was parked on the side of the street to drop his bag off before walking across the street to the restaurant. 

He scanned the menu, standing on the side since he didn’t know what he was ordering yet. The sound of the door ringing and a voice that was speaking to him brought him out of his thoughts. 

“Are you in line?” Harry turned his head towards the voice, and his heart nearly beating ten times faster when he saw you. He had a shocked expression on his face, not expecting to see you, especially when you were wearing the complete opposite of what he normally sees you in. You were wearing a pair of blue denim overalls with a black t-shirt underneath, along with white Reebok sneakers. You had a bit of makeup on; an orange sparkly eyeshadow look with some mascara that made your eyelashes look full and natural. Your lips were painted in a red-orange lipstick stain, bringing out more of your natural lip color. 

The beauty that Harry’s eyes were blessed with made his knees weak, sending shivers to his skin. Your angelic appearance had struck him so hard that he was sure he would see the light of day, hoping to meet you up there since you were a real-life angel. 

“Y/N…hi,” he managed to spit out. 

“Hi, Harry. Did you just workout?” You asked. 

He nodded, feeling a bit nervous. “Uh, yeah, I did.” 

“You don’t usually go in on Saturdays…” you noticed, only seeing him during the weekdays. You’re off on Saturdays, but there was one Saturday that you had gone into the gym briefly, and you didn’t see him there. 

“Yeah, I felt like going in today,” he said, obviously leaving out the part that he only went to the gym to see you again, but you didn’t need to know that bit. There was a moment of silence between you two until Harry remembered that he was probably holding up the line for you. “Oh, you could go ahead. I’m not ready to order yet.” 

You smiled, nodding your head as you stepped forward in the line. “Have you ever been here before?” 

“No, I haven’t. Do you have any suggestions?” 

You slightly squinted your eyes at him. “Do you trust me?” You asked. 

That was a difficult question for him, and somewhat vague. Did you mean overall, at the moment, or for his food order? Either way, he nodded because he knew that it didn’t matter what you meant--he had this sense of security with you that he would trust you with his life, and that said a lot, considering that he’d only known you for a month. 

“Yeah, I do trust you,” he stated honestly. 

His words brought a grin to your face, looking at him appreciatively. Based on your observations of him, you noticed that he was a bit closed off; he didn’t open himself up, and if he did, it took a lot in him to do just that. So, hearing him tell you that he trusts you made you grateful, and you would never do anything to take advantage of that trust because he didn’t just give it out easily. 

“I got you,” you simply said before turning back around towards the cashier. Harry softly smirked as he took a step forward to stand next to you. You looked at him, flashing him a toothy grin before quickly facing forward. 

You ordered your favorite dish from the restaurant, which was a beef kabab plate, for the both of you. Harry quickly got his wallet out, offering to pay, but you told him that you got it this time, hoping your words conveyed that you wanted there to be a next time. He shyly thanked you for the lunch, keeping your words in mind because he would definitely be up for a ‘next time.’ 

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long for your order to come out, which was fortunate for Harry because he was starving. You suggested eating outside since it was a beautiful day out and Harry agreed, following you out of the restaurant. 

You two sat on the metal chairs, digging into your dishes. Harry’s mouth watered as he ate, his stomach being satisfied. There was a comfortable silence that settled between you two, only making small conversation when you asked if he liked the food, which you were glad to hear that he loved. 

“So, how long have you been running Don’s Box?” He suddenly asked, wanting to get to know you better. 

You raised your brows at his question. “For about two years now. My father, Don, opened the gym when he was twenty-five, that’s when he had me as well. But when he opened the gym, it practically changed his life. He’d boxed all of his life, and he was happy training other people when he started getting more people to come into his gym. When I was about six, he told me that he wanted me to run the gym when I turned twenty-five, only if I wanted to. But of course, I did. I looked up to him all of my life, and the gym made me happy as well,” you explained, smiling at the memory of when you were younger, being excited to turn twenty-five to do the same thing your father did. 

A soft smile appeared on Harry’s face as you reminisce on the memory. 

“How long have you been boxing?” 

“Since I was eight. Don showed me the ropes when I told him I was ready. There used to be a seating area on the side of the ring because when I was younger, I used to sit there and watch him work and train people. So, I was pretty interested and intrigued about fighting to get myself stronger, even at the young age of eight,” you chuckled. 

You were a daddy’s girl, always had been since you were born. Don had always set a pretty amazing example of how you should go about living your life. He would always say ‘Live your life with a strong punch. Keep your head up, and don’t let anything get to you because you’re so much more than what other people say. But if you need to cry, you can—there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.’ 

As your eyes watered from the thought of your father’s words, Harry watched as you got emotional and he couldn’t help but think that you’ve crossed a line in asking too many questions. 

“Sorry, I always get emotional-”

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped—I should’ve kept the questions to myself-”

“Oh, no! You didn’t overstep whatsoever. I’m glad you asked me those questions, I just get soft and emotional over my dad, so hence, I’m tearing up,” you let out a somewhat pathetic chuckle as you couldn’t believe that you almost cried in front of this gorgeous man. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your napkin, stopping the tears from falling out. 

Harry nodded understandingly, waiting for you to regroup yourself. You kept apologizing, but he kept telling you that you had nothing to be sorry for. 

“Really, if you need to cry, you can…” he told you. Your eyes widened; you were just thinking about your dad’s words two minutes ago, and for Harry to say the exact same thing Don had always told you without even knowing that Don had said those words. 

Not wanting to cry in front of him, you simply nodded your head, holding the napkin on the outer corner of your eye, so the napkin would catch your tears. 

Harry quickly changed the subject, sensing that you needed it, and you really did, so you were grateful for that. He busied himself by telling you what his favorite ice cream flavor was since he was suddenly reminded that there was a shop just down the street. He kept you occupied by talking about all the sweet treats that he used to eat with his mom back home, and how much he missed walking down the streets in the city to eat some ice cream. 

“My mum used to make this really great chocolate mousse pie, and we would eat it every weekend. It was extremely sweet, but it was delicious. I really miss it…” he told you. That had been a while ago, but it was like he could still taste the dessert as if he just ate it yesterday. 

“Is your mom back home in England?” You asked, figuring that there wasn’t any harm in asking to get to know him since he asked you some questions as well. 

“Uh…actually, I don’t know where she is…” he said honestly, and you knitted your brows in confusion. “I mean, honestly. I don’t know where she is. Ever since I went to uni, she’s been all over the place, taking vacations and barely calling. I-I feel like she’s forgotten about me,” he spoke ever so softly as he was fragile. 

You listened to him intently, giving him your full attention as he was opening up a part of his life that you knew he doesn’t tell a lot of people. A part of him that he’s kept in for so long and just the passing sense of relief he felt saying those words and speaking up about this subject had made him feel so much better. 

“I’m sure she didn’t forget about you.” 

“Seemed like it. We inherited my grandfather’s will—left us a generous amount for each of us that’ll take care of us for the rest of our lives. And she took that and ran with it. I mean, I get it—she wants to live her life, and now’s the time to do that because she’s got the money for it, but I feel…abandoned. She got up, said goodbye, and just…left. It just makes me think that I’m not good enough—that I wasn’t good enough to stay.” Harry opened a can of worms that he can’t take back anymore. But the trust that he had in you already made him want to talk about everything with you; to open up about all of his stresses and insecurities. 

Boldly, you reached your arm across the table but immediately pulled away because you didn’t want to touch him without asking. But before you could open your mouth and ask, Harry had reached forward, meeting your hand halfway as his palm was facing up as if it was a way of saying ‘you can hold my hand if you want.’ Blushing, you reached forward again and took your hand into his. 

The touch was sweet and tender as you two held hands; the want to hold each other tighter was present, wanting to take away Harry’s pain. 

“Harry, you will always be good enough. I know we just met a month ago, but I already know that you’re the sweetest, kindest person. Please know that. You are enough, and I’m grateful that you’re here and that I’m sitting across from you, eating lunch,” you declared. Harry sniffled, not knowing what to say as he put his head down, so you continued. “For as long as we’re friends, I’m gonna stay.” You spoke with complete honesty as you caressed the back of his hand with your thumb. 

Harry’s head lifted up at your last statement in disbelief as if this was the first time someone had ever said that to him. 

“Really?” 

You squeezed his hand, making his heart flutter. “Yeah. As long as you want me to,” you reassured, nodding. 

Harry gave you a soft and appreciating smile as he took a deep breath. The breath that he held in throughout the entirety of the conversation was finally let out in relief. He shrunk back into his seat, still holding your hand as you continued rubbing it, and he breathed out a chuckle. It was an overwhelming feeling that was riddled with happiness and a sense of security washed over him. 

It was like he had been waiting for you; someone new that unexpectedly came into his life was scary because it was change, but it was a good change. A change for the better. He had been vulnerable enough to open himself up, and it all led to the tight bond and trust you two had with one another, sealing your friendship and relationship. 

And you both knew this moment was going to change everything. 

Time had passed by rather quickly as it was nearing the end of October. The weather was getting chillier as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the clouds earlier. There was something about the fall weather that Harry adored. It may have to do with the fact that the gloomy sky had occurred more often, or how he got to call it a night early. Whatever it may be, he liked it, or he used to. 

In recent times, he wanted the sun to stay out until it was time to go to bed. He wanted warm days instead of gloomy. His new changed attitude towards life had to do with you. 

You and Harry had been hanging out quite a lot; getting to know one another, getting a bite or drink, and working out together, it definitely gave Harry the chance to let go of his past. He was happier, smiled more, and laughed a lot which he didn’t know he was capable of doing those things again until he met you. 

Benny loved it, though. He sure cherished it because seeing his best friend happy again was something he was afraid he wouldn’t see again. But that didn’t stop him from having a little talk with you, trying to protect Harry and set you straight. 

When Harry was occupied with hitting the speed bag, Benny walked over to the ring, where you had just finished another class with your younger students. 

“Hey, Benny!” You greeted him once you saw him walk towards you. 

“Hey, do you mind chatting for a minute?” You raised your brows, nodding your head. Benny usually didn’t talk to you privately nor was it anything serious, but by the look on his face, it seemed pretty serious. “So, you’ve been hanging out with Harry a lot, hmm?” 

You smiled softly. “Yeah! Hope you don’t mind that? Know I’m taking your best friend and all…” 

“No, I don’t mind. I’m actually glad you are. He seems quite taken by you, and I haven’t seen him like that in a very long time,” Benny said honestly. You seemed to know where this conversation was going now, and now that you thought about it, you expected this from Benny because they were like brothers and Benny would do anything to protect Harry. “What I’m trying to say is…if you’re only hanging out with him to fuck with him, don’t bother. He’s been through enough, and I know he can’t handle anymore of that and I can’t stand to see him like that again.” 

“Like what?” You hesitatingly asked. 

“Like…just know that he was a mess. He couldn’t get up, eat, drink, shower, or anything. I had to physically help him. I don’t want to see him like that ever again.” Benny shook his head as if he was reliving the horrible nightmare that he went through a few years ago. 

“Is this about his mom?” 

“He told you that?” He asked, just to make sure, and you nodded. “Kind of. But that’s only half of it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, but I’ve already said too much. Just…take care of him, okay? He tries to act tough sometimes, but he’s trying his best to not break down. Although, I haven’t seen that kind of look on him since he’s been hanging out with you, so you’re probably doing something right.” 

You nodded understandingly. “Thanks for talking to me. I don’t plan on breaking his heart at all, and I’m quite taken with him myself,” you admitted. 

“Good. I’m glad you are. He’s a great guy.” Benny smiled, and you agreed. 

Benny didn’t talk to you for much longer before he started getting cold from standing around, so he ended the conversation and went back to working out. 

Meanwhile, as you and Benny were talking, Don took the chance himself to talk to Harry, seeing as you were occupied. 

“Harry.” Don made himself present around him. 

Harry immediately stopped his workout, greeting your father. “What’s up, Don?” 

“So, I’ve noticed that you’ve been hanging around Y/N a lot.” Don’s stance changed as he crossed his arms, sporting a slight frown. Harry gulped; he always found Don to be quite intimidating, ever since he joined the gym, but Harry didn’t want to seem like he couldn’t have a serious conversation with the father of the woman that he’s slowly falling for--no, he couldn’t act like that. “What’s that all about?” Don added. 

“I’m just…we’re friends, so we’re just hanging out. Nothing more,” he told Don honestly. Although he would like there to be more, he didn’t know how you felt about him or if you even felt anything for him at all. 

Don nodded. He could tell that Harry was holding back on something he wanted to say, and he had an idea of what that was. So, he let loose of the intimidating and protective act, knowing that wasn’t really him anyway, and his expression softened as he uncrossed his arms. He placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder, taking a deep breath. 

“You have this look of wanting to say more and you don’t have to tell me, but I will tell you this…if you want to date her and go out with her, you can. This isn’t approval and a ‘yes’ for you to take her out because I don’t need to do that--she can make her own decisions. All I’m saying is that if you want to, go for it. Life is too fuckin’ short to not do anything, to not say anything.” 

Harry’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled in appreciation at Don’s words. “Thanks, Don. I definitely want to take her out, but I just don’t know how she feels about me.” 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure she feels something for you--she hasn’t told me, but I just know. You’re the first guy in a while that she’s been hanging around with consistently, and that comforts me, in a way. Knowing that she’s living her life and not holding back anymore.” Harry stayed silent, taking his words in. He tried not to overanalyze what Don had said because you’ll tell him and open up to him when you want to, just like how you’re patiently waiting for Harry to open up fully as well. “Just…don’t break her heart, okay? She’s been through enough and I just want her to be happy.” 

Harry nodded understandingly, saying a soft ‘okay’ before Don changed the subject and talked about how  Harry should train with him one of these days, which Harry immediately said yes to and they planned for the following week to train. Don left him to finish his workout, telling him to have a nice night as you and Harry were going out to dinner. 

Benny and Harry finished up their workout, and before they were able to head out the front door, Harry stopped, telling Benny to give him a minute. Harry fast-walked towards you, lugging his bag on his shoulder. You were coming out of your office, which was why Harry couldn’t say goodbye to you after his workout. 

“Hey, we’re heading out,” he said, wiping the bit of sweat on the back of his neck with his towel. 

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up,” Harry suggested, pursing his lips into his mouth as he contained his smile. You nodded, eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “I’ll, uh, page you,” he slightly smirked. 

“Okay,” you mindlessly responded as you were getting quite lost in his green eyes that looked at you intently with a gleam that sat so perfectly against his irises, making his eyes glimmer brightly.

He gave you one last smile and a little wave before walking out of the gym with Benny. You were left stunned as you stood there, completely drifted away from reality as you were in a dream about Harry. You felt a small nudge on your shoulder, causing you to snap out of your thoughts and dream as you turned around to see your father laughing. 

“Get back to work.” A smug plastered on his face. 

A breathy chuckle was released from your mouth as a hint of embarrassment emerged onto your face with wide eyes. You got back to work, focusing your attention on training your next client, but your mind was racing at the thought of Harry. 

As he promised, Harry paged you when he was outside of your apartment complex. He wanted to knock on your door like the proper gentleman that he is, but the buzzer machine to let people in wasn’t working, so paging you would have to do for now. He waited for you outside of his newly washed car, making sure it was nice and clean for you as he leaned against the passenger door. 

You walked out of your building, and Harry was immediately blown away. You were wearing a black skirt with stockings that hugged your legs, and a white knitted sweater since it was on the chillier side. 

Every time he saw you, his heart would beat incredibly fast, pulse pounding through his veins. His stomach was in flits of butterflies, soaring in his heart and stomach, making him extremely nervous. Every time he saw you, everything would stop, like you were the only person in the world and everything was okay. 

“Hey, H,” you flashed him your smile, one that he looked forward to every time he saw you. 

“H-Hi,” he stuttered, clearing his throat to start over. “Hi. You look really nice.” 

You blushed. “Thank you! You look great as well. Love this top.” You reached forward, lightly tugging at his red-orange knitted long-sleeve. He paired it with blue jeans that flared at the bottom with white sneakers. His fingers were covered in beautiful silver rings, making his hands look quite gorgeous. 

“Thank you, shall we?” 

“Yeah, oh, I got you something.” You reached into your bag to take out the cased CD, and before Harry was about to protest, you handed it to him. “I made you this mixtape. Just some songs that I think you’ll like—I’m sure you know all of them, but they just made me think of you,” you said shyly. 

You weren’t normally shy and you would call yourself a pretty strong and confident person, but you had been so nervous to give this to him—even making the tape left you anxious and shaking. 

“Wow, this is…very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much.” Harry looked at the CD with the songs written in your handwriting. There were 10 songs, and Harry knew all of them. They were all…romantic songs. 

“That’s not weird, right? Y’know, making you a mixtape?” You asked unsurely. The odd feeling had popped into your mind at the last second as you watched Harry observe the CD, not giving a bad nor good reaction to your gift. 

“No, not at all! I really appreciate this. No one has ever made a mixtape for me before, so this is really nice and special. Thank you again.” He reached forward, wrapping one arm around your shoulders as both of your arms found their way around his waist. You somewhat weren’t convinced that he liked it, and he could tell just by how you were looking at him--looking for some more reassurance--that it seemed like he didn’t like it. When he pulled away, he looked at you before saying, “Really, it makes me happy that you took the time to make this for me. It’s so sweet and thoughtful of you, and I already love all the songs on here, so I’m one-hundred-percent going to enjoy this.” 

You nodded, smiling softly as he opened the door for you and you thanked him, blushing as you got in. It seemed very much like a date and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of that. 

Harry drove to the sandwich shop that waited for you both. It was twenty minutes away on the other side of the town, but Harry had been raving about it so much to you that you told him that you two should go, which Harry was more than happy to take you. 

The sound of Boyz II Men filled the speakers of Harry’s car as the two of you sang your hearts out to ‘On Bended Knees,’ putting full emotion and passion into singing. You held up your water bottle, pretending that it was a microphone, and Harry kept shifting his gaze on you, trying to keep his eyes on the road, but also wanting to look at you as you sang. He smiled to himself, absolutely loving how you were so carefree--something that he admired about you. 

His heart fluttered, curling his lips into his mouth before he did something that was quite bold of him to do. Reaching over, he grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. Your body was frozen, but you continued to sing, covering up the fact that Harry was holding your hand so casually. You were stiff as a board, so you tried loosening up, swaying your body from side to side, slightly averting your eyes towards him as he continued to drive. 

The moonlight cast through the car window, giving him a dim glow, accentuating his features; jawline prominent, his lashes shadowed down onto his cheeks, and his eyes were calm; the light reflecting against his glassy green eyes. Your heartbeat a million miles a minute as you looked at him. You had this appreciation and admiration for him--that you were lucky and grateful that you have him and that there was nothing more beautiful than the man sitting beside you. 

With your face on fire, you smiled as you carried on, singing with the warmth of Harry’s hand connected with yours. 

You were sitting across Harry, munching on your sandwich as you listened to him talk about how he wanted to actually find a job. He’s been sitting around, living quite wealthy as his inheritance sat safely. But he’d been getting bored. Every day was a routine for him and it was a pretty boring routine, he would say. The only places he really went to were the gym and the places that the two of you went together, but that was it. He needed a hobby, something that he could escape to that doesn’t require breaking a sweat from punching bags and mitts. 

“You said you like books, so maybe you could see if the bookstore down the street from the gym is hiring. That would be a nice little place to work at,” you suggested. 

Harry’s eyes lightened up, apart from thinking that was a great idea and the other part from being surprised that you remembered such a small detail about him when he’d talked about books briefly with you. 

“I should definitely do that, thank you. I love that bookstore, it’s-”

“Y/N?” Harry was interrupted by a man who had walked over to your table. Harry looked up, observing the guy as he was looking at you so intently. He quickly looked at you as you were looking up at the man with a shocked expression on your face, wide eyes and mouth slightly opened. 

“Uh, hi,” you said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Your eyes glanced at Harry and he had a worried expression on his face, eyes asking if you were okay. You nodded softly, bringing your attention back to him. 

“I-I’ve been calling the gym and paging you, but you haven’t been answering any of them…” the man mentioned slyly. You were quite speechless, not expecting him to be here and not knowing what to say. 

“I, uh-”

“Can we talk right now?” He asked. You were flickering your eyes between Harry, someone that you were completely infatuated with, and the man that you were completely irritated with. But if you didn’t talk to him right now, he wouldn’t leave you alone and wouldn’t stop calling you, so you made the mistake of saying a soft ‘okay’ as you got up, looking over at Harry, giving a subtle smile. 

Just by the way he was looking at you, you knew you had regretted your decision and you wished that you hadn’t given in so easily. 

Once you were outside, you crossed your arms, in a way to seem reserved and closed off, but in reality, you really were. The uncomfortableness you felt was something you haven’t felt in a while as it felt like your stomach was boiling as bile salivated your mouth. Your fists were hidden underneath your arms, clenching, and your lips were curled into your mouth to immediately spew inappropriate sayings and vile remarks. 

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, brows pinched together. 

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for quite a while now, but I just wanted to talk. I hate how we ended things…” he said remorsefully. You tried not to fall for the pouty look he was giving you as if he knew quite well you would fall for it. 

“It’s been six months, Max,” you reminded him. You and Max had an ugly breakup, and you had been picking up your own pieces yourself. You two had been together for nearly a year until he started to act differently. Noticing that he was going home late, staying at the bars until the early hours of the morning, and being quite rude and dismissive towards you, it ended in a screaming match where he ended up spitting out rude comments at you--calling you ugly, useless, and boring. It also caused him to confess that he was cheating on you for half the time you were together with him, and you thought that was a lie he made up just to make you angry, but a month after the breakup, you had found out that was true because you had accidentally bumped into the girl he was cheating on you with. At the time, you couldn’t blame him because the girl was absolutely gorgeous and seemed a lot of fun, but now, you know your worth and you absolutely didn’t deserve that whatsoever. 

For six months, you hadn’t seen him, but he had been leaving you countless calls to the gym phone. However, Max wouldn’t dare to step foot in the gym ever again because Don had clearly threatened him when he saw Max on the street, pinning him up against the brick wall by his shirt and yelling in his face that if he ever came close to you or the gym ever again, he wouldn’t see the end of the day. 

Don would’ve lost his shit if he saw Max in front of you. 

“This is pointless. I was fine living my life for the past six months without you. In fact, I haven’t even thought about you until you showed up. Couldn’t you see I was doing just fine? Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Your tone was scornful, not wanting to be in front of him anymore but instead the lovely man inside. 

“I just assumed you wanted some sort of closure…” 

“If I wanted closure, then I would’ve called you. But I don’t need closure. I was doing okay-” 

“With who? That man inside the restaurant?” He interrupted, brows raised. His demeanour suddenly changed just because you had given him the slightest bit of attitude. Max went from soft, wanting forgiveness to the Max that you saw last--completely offensive, rude, and a dickhead.  

“Yeah, his name is Harry, by the way. I was doing okay until you showed up!” You rolled your eyes, making your way back inside to Harry, who was waiting for you inside. 

Of course, Max wasn’t done until he got the last word, so he yelled out, “You know, whatever you’re doing with him, he’s gonna leave you; just like how I left you.” You slowly turned around, heart aching as his words had definitely done something this time. “You think Harry cares about you Y/N? Think again, he’s gonna leave you and you’re gonna be alone. You’re nothing, Y/N--not without me, at least. You aren’t worth anything, and you had to take over your dad’s gym to feel like you are. Stop fooling yourself.” 

Your eyes watered, trying your hardest not to let them slip from your eyes. You had already felt weak tearing up in front of him, so you couldn’t imagine what he would think if you bawled your eyes out. Suddenly, you heard the bell above the restaurant door chime. You didn’t bother turning around, but you somehow knew that it was Harry who was behind you. 

“Everything alright here?” Harry asked warily, eyes pointed towards you. 

“Yeah, man. See you, Y/N.” With that, he walked away, hopefully for good. Harry knew everything wasn’t alright with how you’re ready to burst into tears. As much as he wanted to follow him, force an answer out of him as to why you were in such distress, he was more worried about you. 

Standing in front of you, Harry placed an arm on your shoulder, his other hand held the brown paper bag that had both of your leftovers as he didn’t want to eat without you. Your body was tense, not because of Harry’s touch but because of the words that had taken such an effect on you, and you were doing everything to not break down in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“Hey, you okay?” Harry asked softly, bending down slightly to look you in the eyes. Your eyes were pointed down at the ground, thinking that if you looked Harry in the eyes, you were going to break. 

“Uh, c-can you take me to the gym, please?” You asked once you fully gained the courage to speak, but your voice was shaky. 

Harry immediately nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course. Let’s go.” He put his arm around your shoulders and you comfortably nuzzled into his side as he guided you to his car. 

The drive back was silent—the complete opposite from the drive to the restaurant. Instead of happiness radiating out of your bodies, the space felt gloomy. Harry’s mind had spiraled as he drove, thinking about what that man could have possibly said to you. He was torn between wanting to be angry, but he was more concerned for you because you had never been this silent before. 

Once Harry was in front of the gym, you immediately got out before he was able to turn off the car. Using your keys, you unlocked the front door, turning off the alarm system before throwing your purse, not caring where it landed and rushed towards the heavy bags. 

This was where you let all your anger out. The place where you screamed at the top of your lungs with no care on who might hear you. This was your safe space, and if someone was going to judge you for utilizing your safe space, then they didn’t belong there. 

You screamed, punched, and kicked the heavy bag with full force as your tears had streamed down your face. Your heart was beating painfully with every scream you forced out of your body. Your punches were solid, making the bag swing back and forth, but your knuckles were starting to redden because you didn’t wrap your hands. 

Harry quickly followed you, a frown plastered on his face as he watched you let your anger out all on the heavy bag. He let you do your thing, watching from the sidelines before he waited for the right moment to cut in. 

“You. Fucking. Stupid. Piece. Of. Shit,” you yelled out with every punch. You sniffled, continuing to punch the bag, eyes glossy from your endless amount of tears. 

The friction from the leather and your bare skin was rubbing against each other, cutting and peeling open your skin. Your hands had numbed the pain, so you carried on with your punches until Harry had wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and away from the heavy bag once he started to see redness and blood scattered onto your knuckles. You screamed, your body protesting, wanting to continue punching, but you knew you didn’t have any more energy. 

Turning around in his arms, your face was met with his chest, sobbing into his shirt. Harry’s hands soothed your back, comforting you as his heart ached from the sadness you radiated. Your bloody hands clutched his shirt as you cried, tears staining his shirt. Your whines and whimpers filled the empty gym, echoing back at you. 

Everything hurt—your heart, eyes, body, and your hands were now starting to sting. Harry held you tighter, carefully taking a seat onto the ground and bringing you down with him. You sat in between his legs and your head rested on his shoulder. 

After a moment, he felt you calm down and your body physically relaxed. Mindlessly, his hand brushed your hair back from your forehead, pressing a kiss to your skin. Harry hadn’t realized he did that until he pulled away and he hoped he hadn’t crossed a line by doing that. But when he kissed your forehead, you pulled him closer, burying your face into his neck. 

��Talk to me—tell me what you need, angel,” he said softly, wanting to help and be there for you. The nickname had completely slipped out as he’d been calling you that in his head. He’d never seen you break down at all, so this was very new to him. 

You shook your head, nickname going over your head. “Nothing. Just you.” 

Harry nodded his head, heart fluttering at your words as he held you tighter. He continued to soothe your hair and back as he heard you sigh deeply at the comfort. Looking down at your hands, he realized they were still bloody and cut up, and he knew that your cuts needed to be treated as soon as possible. 

“Can I take care of your hands? I’m still gonna be close, just wanna bandage you up.” You sniffled, nodding your head. Harry slightly smiled, carefully getting up before helping you up. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, first asking you where the first aid kit was, and you two walked to one of the offices to get the kit before going to the restroom. “Wanna sit?” He asked, patting the cold counter. Nodding your head, you placed your hands on the counter, but he quickly stopped you, taking off his jacket for you to sit on. 

“Thank you,” you softly said to him gratefully before jumping to sit on the counter. 

Harry opened the box that contained multiple and different types of bandages, an instant cold pack, thermometer, antiseptic wipes, and scissors. Harry washed his hands well before grabbing the antiseptic wipe and ripping it open. He situated himself between your legs, gently grabbing your hand to rest on his. He looked up at you, first asking you if it was okay to start, and when you said yes, he slowly and carefully started to wipe the area around the cut. 

You watched him as he cleaned your cuts; he was so focused on wiping the blood that stained your skin and was careful not to press too hard because you were starting to bruise already. As you watched him, you felt immensely grateful. It’d been a while since you had a true friend that would help you with anything and take care of you. Your feelings for him had skyrocketed, heart pounding so loud you could feel it in your ears. 

“The guy at the restaurant was my ex-boyfriend, Max,” you suddenly said. Harry looked up at you to let you know that he was listening as he continued to clean your hands. “It was a bit of a messy breakup; he called me names, insulted me, and confessed that he was cheating on me. When I saw him at the restaurant, that was the first time since the breakup, and it was like I relived that day again.” 

“Did he say anything to you?” Harry asked, holding back his anger because he knew the answer,  Harry watched through the window the entire time and noticed your posture and demeanor change, causing Harry to quickly pay and rush outside just in case anything happened. 

“Y-Yeah.” Your voice croaked. “Said I didn’t amount to anything—that I wasn’t anything without him-”

“That’s bullshit, Y/N-”

“I’m so mad at myself.” Tears were forming in your eyes again as you looked down at your lap. Redness brimmed your eyelids as you sniffled. 

“What? Why?” Harry asked confusingly. 

You shook your head at yourself. “For years, I’ve been training—learning how to defend myself for when I need it. I was raised to have a strong mindset, to not take shit from anyone because Don told me not to. But when he came around, I didn't say a word, let alone move a muscle. I hate how he made me weak. I hate how I didn’t stand up for myself.” Your voice was shaky and your tears streamed down your face as you paused for a moment. “He told me that you were gonna leave me just like everyone else in my life did,” you added. 

Harry was seething, breathing in through his nose as his face hardened. He masked his anger because his priority was to comfort you, so he tried to let go of his anger for a moment. 

“Listen to me.” He placed his hands on the outside of your legs, bending down to look you in the eyes. Your glossy eyes looked at him, a small pout on your face. “You’re the strongest person I know, alright, angel?” This time, you heard the pet name loud and clear, making your heart do backflips. “You didn’t let him walk all over you, no, you’re much more mature than him to ever start something. He wanted to see you angry, and frustrated. He wanted to add fuel to the fire, and you didn’t give him the satisfaction. You aren’t weak at all. You’ve got a strong heart, and I’m sure that punch of yours to his nose would damage it for good.” 

You breathed out a chuckle at his last statement, nodding, knowing he was right. Harry smiled, dimples showing proudly as he wiped the tears that were falling from your eyes. Giving him a half-smile, you leaned forward, pressing your face against his collarbones. He stood up straight to wrap his arms around your back. You daringly placed a kiss onto the exposed skin that was peeking out from his shirt. Harry’s face warmed up at the touch that was so soft and delicate, yet felt like it was burning through his skin. You pulled away, looking up at him as you thanked him. 

Your eyes darted between his eyes and his lips as your face was just inches away from him. His face was delicate and his beauty shined over the darkness of the world. It was as if he didn’t seem real like you couldn’t believe someone so beautiful and breathtaking was standing right in front of you. You studied every curve, movement, and freckle on his face as they all very well defined him, heightening your admiration with every look of his perfections and imperfections. 

Harry blushed under your stare, clearing his throat as he felt nervous. He pulled his face away a tad bit, offering you a small smile. “Of course. Always gonna be here for you. Now, let me just finish cleaning your hands before taking you home.” 

You nodded, letting him finish with his task. His hands were gentle as he wrapped the bandage around your hand. Your heart was filled with so much admiration and gratitude that you simply wouldn’t know what to do if Harry weren’t there today. The growing feelings had taken over your heart and mind that you were a bit scared, but nonetheless, you let them take over. 

Harry sat at the bar next to Benny, nursing a beer he had ordered ten minutes ago. It had been a while since they hung out together, but that was because Benny was trying to get his wife pregnant, so when Marianne calls, they spent their time baby-making. The other reason was that Harry was spending most of his time with you, which he loved every minute of. 

“So, a little bird told me that you’ve been going to the gym on Saturdays now,” Benny mentioned, a hint of tease in his tone. 

Harry chuckled. “Really? And who told you that?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Starts with a D and ends with an N,” Benny laughed, giving you the obvious answer. 

“Well, I’ve been going in on Saturdays because Don always schedules our training sessions on Saturdays. Nothing else,” he slightly lied. After his first training day with Don, Harry told Don that he wanted to continue training with him because he gets a good workout with him rather than by himself, hitting the heavy bag or speed bag, so Don always scheduled for Saturdays since those were the easiest days. 

But other than the training sessions, he also got to see you on Saturdays, which he really enjoyed because sometimes after his workout, you two would grab a bite to eat or plan to hang out later that day. He liked it, he liked you. 

“Hmm, interesting. It doesn’t have to do with a particular trainer who also happens to own the gym?” Benny raised his brows. 

“Not really into Don, to be honest,” Harry joked, bouncing around Benny’s question. They both laughed, slamming their hand on the bar top. 

“Really, though. I’m happy for you. You’ve been in such a happier mood, and that’s all I want—is for you to be happy. She’s doing a great job,” Benny said honestly. Seeing his friend happy after everything he’s been through had lifted a certain weight off of his shoulders, and it seemed like he didn’t need to worry about Harry. 

Harry simply nodded, smiling as words weren’t necessary. He always felt like Benny was always concerned about him, and although he appreciated him being worried, he didn’t need to anymore because Harry was finally feeling much happier than he was before. 

“There you are.” A voice was suddenly heard next to Harry along with a hand on his shoulder. Harry tensed up, and he hadn’t in a while, but he knew that wasn’t your voice nor was it your touch. Harry turned his head to the side to find Lizette sitting on the stool next to him, giving him a smug smile. He didn’t say anything but look at Benny, and saw his eyes narrow, confused as to why Lizette was here. “I’ve been calling your home and paging you. Why haven’t you been answering me?” She pouted. 

Harry knew that pout all too well. She used it to trick you into saying yes to her and getting what she wanted, but Harry was stronger than that now; he knew how to hold his ground. 

He hadn’t seen Lizette ever since the week before he joined Don’s Box. With all of his time spent with you, he hadn’t really thought about Lizette, if he’s being honest. You had fully taken every inch and space of his mind that it was maximum capacity, but he still found a way to make space from the invading thoughts of you. 

“Just been…busy, Lizette, that’s all,” he said, not giving her his full attention as he looked at his bottle. 

“Too busy for me?” 

“Yeah, something like that.” He didn’t want to outright be rude to her because naturally, Harry was a kind and thoughtful man, so he kept his harsh thoughts to himself. 

She inched closer to Harry, close enough to where her mouth was against his ear as she whispered, “Well, since I so happened to run into you, how about we go back to yours?”

Harry took a deep breath. He felt like he was his old self again—making impulsive and not so thought out decisions that end up fucking him and his emotions over in the future. Being with Lizette was something, and it helped make him feel a little less lonely, even though she immediately left right after she got what she wanted. 

But Harry hadn’t felt lonely at the moment and in months. He had his best friend next to him, having a drink, and he had you. He wasn’t lonely at all. So, why was he getting off the stool and putting his coat on before closing his tab for the night? 

Benny’s eyes widened, looking at Harry as if he was asking what the actual fuck was he doing. Harry simply shrugged, patting his friend on the back before following Lizette out of the bar. The air was cold, but it wasn’t a delightful cold that he wanted to be in. It almost seemed kind of eerie as the gray clouds hovered over them. 

Lizette hugged Harry’s arm. “I’m glad you agreed.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek, but he immediately pulled away, taking his arm out of her hold. 

“You should go home,” he told her. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out as she was confused. “Get a ride home. I’m not taking you home nor am I going with you. I don’t want to do this anymore, Lizette.” 

“But you came with me-”

“That didn’t mean I was saying yes to your offer. I came out here with you to get you off of me and not embarrass me in front of my friend and the entire bar.” Harry’s voice was stern as he crossed his arms. “I know you’ve never really cared about me, so please just do me a favor and leave. I’m happier now-”

“You’re happier? With some other girl, huh?” Harry nodded and Lizette rolled her eyes, expression annoyed as she was beginning to get angry and defensive. “You think she cares? Guess what, Harry, she doesn’t. She’s gonna leave you just like your mom left you, your ex-girlfriend left you. Remember when she fucked your best friend in college? That she left you to be with him? And look at them now, they’re married! They don’t give a single fuck about you! What makes you think that this girl you’re seeing does?” 

Lizette had definitely hit a nerve. Harry had gone four years without hearing the story on how his ex left him for one of his friends from uni. The situation was quite sad, and it left Harry in pieces. Not to mention, Lizette was his ex’s best friend and she somehow seduced him into regularly having sex with her, which wasn’t entirely her fault because Harry was lonely and needed to feel something to fill the void of his loneliness. 

“Don’t think you’re so easy to love, Harry. It takes a lot of effort to do that, especially with you. You’re gonna continue being scared and closed off, and people are gonna continue to run away-”

“Harry?” Lizette was suddenly interrupted by you. You were walking to the bar because Benny had invited you, thinking that it would’ve been a nice surprise for Harry and to hang out with just the three of you. But you had seen Harry and some woman on the street and his face looked angry. “Uh, hi.” 

You turned towards the unknown woman as she looked you up and down before turning towards Harry, raising her brows as she figured out who you were and who Harry had been spending so much time with. 

Harry completely blocked you out, his attention was towards the statements Lizette had made. He had been doing so much better, and all of a sudden the relapse hit him ten times harder, like his accomplishment of being okay with himself completely disappeared. 

 Was he that hard to love? He knew that he pushed people away, that’s for sure, but he didn’t realize that it was difficult to love him. Harry then thought about the people that had left him because they didn’t love him enough to stay. His ex left him for his friend, it seemed like his mum had forgotten about him, and soon enough, Benny was gonna get tired of him and so were you. 

“And you are?” You asked, scowling at the woman in front of you. Lizette smirked, seeing as there was an opportunity right in front of her. She didn’t find you 

intimidating whatsoever. 

“Oh, guess Harry didn’t tell you, but we’ve been sleeping with each other for years. Friends with benefits, if you will,” Lizette answered with some sass and a snarl to her tone as she watched your expression turn into a hurtful one. 

Your face had softened as your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t dare let them fall. You looked at Harry and it seemed like he was in his head, but you had no clue he was ‘seeing someone.’ It felt like you had been cheated on, even though going out as friends didn’t mean anything to a fuck buddy. All of the moments you spent with him—the laughs, storytelling, training, and tension-filled moments had connected you both to one another. It made you feel special that you were seeing a side of Harry that no one else had, but you were wrong. 

“Guess you’re the new girl he’s seeing?” 

“What’s it to you?” Your brows knitted. 

Lizette shrugged. “Nothing. Just know that Harry’s difficult and loveless. So, just get out while you can.” She reached over to touch your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back before she could. She was talking as if Harry wasn’t right next to you two, and if this was a ‘women looking out for women’ type of situation, you weren’t going to accept it because she outright just insulted Harry. 

You were livid as your eyes turned dark, stepping closer to her. “Stay away from him, or I swear to god-”

“Or what? What are you gonna do?” Lizette challenged, stepping closer. She was slightly taller than you since she wore four-inch leather boots.

“Wanna find out? Next time I see you with him or hear you talk shit about him again, then you’ll find out because I can guarantee you’ll never see the light of day.” You held eye contact with her as she looked at you with such fierce emotion. 

“Cute. Harry’s got a little bodyguard,” she scoffed, stepping back. “I should go,” Lizette suddenly said, breaking you out of your heartbreaking thoughts. “I’ll call you,” she told Harry, despite what you had just said. It seemed like he wasn’t even listening as his blank stare was trained onto the ground. She walked away, her heels clicking against the cement. The satisfaction she felt right now felt good, knowing her words had definitely affected you both. 

When Lizette was far enough, you turned back towards Harry. This time, he was looking at you in a confused state, and it didn’t seem like him. 

“I-I didn’t know you were seeing someone-”

“You should go…” he said straightforwardly. You raised your brows as you were taken back. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“You should leave. For good. Get out of my life while you can. I promise I won’t get mad.” His voice cracked and was shaky. He couldn’t even look you in the eye while he was talking because he knew that would break his heart even more, especially if you were to actually leave for good. The negative thoughts had taken over, and this was what he did—pushing people away and giving them a way out before they realized that Harry wasn’t a lovable or worthy enough person to stay around for. 

“What makes you think I’m going anywhere?” You questioned confusingly. You wondered if he even thought about the conversation you two had a few moments ago when you had told him that you were staying for good. 

“They all do, anyway. They all leave and they never come back.” His voice was starting to raise slightly, frustration and anger pouring out of his veins as his eyes were starting to tear up. A pout remained on your face as you watched the distress never leave his angelic face. “Just please go.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Why won’t you-”

“Because I care! Why don’t you get that?” You raised your voice, not too loud to startle him, but enough to convey your emotions and frustrations to him. 

“Because you’re going to eventually! You’re gonna leave and use me and never love me. I’m used to it, so you could go now!” Harry was starting to cry, light sobs were coming out of his mouth as he was trying to hold them back. You took a step forward, wanting to comfort him as your heart broke at the sight, but he stepped back, not wanting your touch. 

Your heart sank when he stepped back away from you because he had never done that before. You two were always comfortable with one another that both of your touches had felt like security. Your tears had streamed down your face, quickly wiping them. 

“Harry, I’m not gonna leave…” 

“It’s fine. You don’t know what it’s like for someone to leave and never come back. You don’t know what it’s like to feel completely loveless that someone physically had to get out of your life and not want to be in it anymore. You don’t know what it’s like!” He spoke firmly as he cried, tugging his curly locks in frustration. 

“I don’t know what it’s like?” You spoke loudly, and Harry looked up at you. “I know exactly what it’s like because my own mother left me when I was eleven-years-old, and I have no idea why!” You vented, sniffling. “You don’t think I know what it’s like to constantly wonder what you’re doing wrong because the people that were supposed to be there for you completely vanished? Because I do! I know that feeling quite well. So, don’t tell me I don’t know shit because it seems like we’re in the same boat.” 

Harry was speechless. Sure, you two had been close and had talked about your lives and childhood, but this was something that you two had to dig deep for because it wasn’t something you regularly spoke about nor did you tell new people that you’d just met. 

“I-I’m sorry I had no idea…” 

“You couldn’t have had any idea, Harry. But just know that that day my mom left me still confuses me. The look on my dad’s face when he told me that mom left still haunts me. The crying I did since I was eleven hurts me because she didn’t love me enough to stay.” 

“Y/N…” 

“It’s fine, I get it. I know we’ve known each other for only a few months, but I did not expect this from you, especially because of all that we’d talked about. I’d say I’m the newest person in your life but I’m also the closest, besides Benny. So, don’t shut me out.” Your heart was beating through your chest and all of your emotions began to pile up like they were leaves, falling from the branches of the trees. 

Harry looked defeated, knowing that you were right. He sniffled, not knowing what else to say because all he felt was a painful feeling in his chest since Lizette had gone up to him at the bar. 

When he didn’t say anything, you just nodded, knowing that it was best to give him some space so he could realize that you were here for him and that you weren’t going anywhere. 

“Call me when you wanna talk…” you told him before turning around. Harry watched you—he knew that he should go after you, not be scared and let you in, perhaps tell you that he’s practically in love with you, but he doesn’t move, feet glued to the ground. 

When you were only a few feet away, you turned back around, knowing that you hadn’t gotten your final words out yet. Harry looked up when he heard footsteps approaching him. 

“Fuck whatever people say to you; trying to degrade and bring you down because whatever they say, it’s not true. I will always be there to defend you, Harry. Don’t think I won’t be because I will always be on your side.” You paused for a moment. Your heart was fully opening and was beginning to be vulnerable. Trying not to let it overwhelm you, you continued. “Don’t think you’re not easy to love because you are. You’re extremely easy to love, y’know that? I would know because…I love you. And that’s crazy to say because we’ve only known each other for a short period of time, but I can’t help what I feel. So, there you go.” 

Before Harry was able to say anything, you walked away, and he could hear you sniffling and crying. Harry’s mouth was ajar, completely speechless and shocked, but his heart fluttered as he took in your words. You really loved him, he thought. No one had said those words and really meant them or they hadn’t felt real to him when he heard them, so the shock that he felt was new. 

You were far enough where Harry couldn’t see you. He hadn’t even moved an inch, and he knew that later on, he was going to be very disappointed in himself for not chasing you down and telling you that he loved you too. But for now, he needed to take it all in and hope that when he did tell you, it wouldn’t be too late. 

Taking a deep breath, you walked inside to your apartment, sniffling as you went straight to the bathroom to take a long and hot shower. Before you left your place to go to the bar, you had been contemplating your appearance because you wanted to look good. Nerves were all over your body as you were getting ready, and you sulked at how the events had completely turned tonight around. 

When you were out of the shower and changed, ready to get into bed despite the night only being nine in the evening, your pager beeped. Picking it up off the bedside table, the message was sent from Harry, reading ‘143.’ You raised your brows, reading it again and reading it once more. Your heart was pounding, studying the numbers to make sure you read them right. The simple code for ‘I love you’ was printed on your pager and you wanted to scream. 

Before you could actually scream, there was a knock on your door. You walked quickly, opening it as Harry was standing behind it, holding his pager out as he smiled softly at you. You had just finished crying in the shower, so your eyes were red and a tad bit swollen, but you were close to crying again because of how overwhelmed you felt. 

“Did you mean it?” You asked hesitantly, holding your pager up. 

“Of course I do. Did you mean it?” He retaliated back, wondering if you meant your three words as well. 

“Of course I mean it, Harry. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, wiping the tear that had slipped down your face. 

“Because I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much that it hurts,” he claimed in one breath, feeling the tension and weight that he held in his shoulders release. “You’re everything to me, and you make my world less frightening. I just see your pretty smile and my day completely turns into a great one. I don’t wanna waste a day not telling you that now, and it feels pretty damn good to say it.”

You slightly nodded until you remembered one of your concerns earlier. “What about Lizette?” 

“Lizette was someone I used to sleep with. I haven’t seen her nor slept with her in months—before I even met you, I promise. And I’m sorry for assuming that you didn’t know what it felt like for someone to leave and that you had to tell me under those circumstances. But just know, that I’m not gonna leave, unless you tell me to, that is.” Every bit of him was opening up and he wasn’t hiding away. He was being completely vulnerable and it had scared him a bit, but when his words came out, he felt himself get better. 

You looked at him through your glassy eyes, vision blurred for a moment until you adjusted them and clearly saw the gorgeous man in front of you. His eyes were filled with tears as well, and you thought, how could someone still look so pretty while they cried? But that was Harry for you; someone who was genuinely beautiful no matter what. Someone who had a heart of gold and a flashing smile that made your heart swoon and knees weak. 

You simply reached your hand out and Harry walked towards you, into your apartment as he came close to your face as your bodies were pressed up against one another. The back of his fingertips gently brushed the side of your face, admiring the beauty that stood before him as he opened his heart up completely, not wanting to go another day without saying those three words back to you. 

The corners of your lips turned up and your tears were replaced by happy ones. You had walked away from Harry after you said I love you because he was looking at you like he had seen a ghost, not a friendly one, but more of a scary one. So, hearing those words were just music to your ears. 

“You mean that? That you love me?” You wanted to hear it again and again and again. 

“Ever word. I love you, angel,” he repeated, adding your nickname. He pressed his forehead against yours, inches away from your lips. 

“Never stop calling me that,” you instructed him, smiling. The first time he had said it, you came to the conclusion that you absolutely loved hearing that name come out of his mouth, especially if it was specifically for you. 

“Only if you never stop telling me that you love me,” he slightly smirked, dimples poking out. He was so immensely happy that his heart could burst just because of the love that he felt for you. 

You giggled. “I love you, baby-” 

“I, uh, wait. Do you mind…not calling me that?” He hesitated, and you raised your brows confused. “Someone else called me that, and I just don’t like hearing it. Never have since it came out of her mouth,” he explained shyly. 

A sudden realization came to your face as you realized that Lizette probably called him that. “Okay. I won’t call you that, ever…darling.” Harry’s lips began to slowly turn up, already liking that name so much better than the other one. He hugged you; and you smiled, closing and opening your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Your arms snaked around Harry’s waist as he cradled your delicate face in his hands. 

“Never stop calling me that,” he repeated your words as you two smiled and laughed until your jaws started hurting. 

His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You pursed your lips, blushing as you watched his eyes glance back up and down. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, pulling him closer; hearts beating in sync as butterflies filled your stomach. 

He brushed his lips against yours before fully connecting them, feeling every spark and shiver that traveled down his spine. You smiled into the kiss as the softness of his lips moved and molded against yours, feeling completely in bliss. The way his lips slotted perfectly with yours made you saturated and dizzy off of his love and touch. Butterflies were still in your stomach, but they were calm like they had been fluttering around for this moment, his touch, in order to relax. 

Pulling back, he smiled down at you, eyes love-struck, before giving you another kiss, and pulling away and kissing you again once more. 

“Kissing you is my new favorite thing,” he stated, drunk off kisses. You breathed out a giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck as you breathed in his scent. You felt his breath against your neck, feeling completely happy and content in each other’s arms. 

There was no fear in the air; just the two of you with open hearts and arms, welcoming in the new and profound feeling that you both took in, knowing that it’s going to change everything for the better. 

You pulled him inside and Harry kicked the door closed with his foot. His arms were holding you tight as you walked back to your bedroom. Opening your mouth slightly, Harry took the chance to meet your tongue with his, swiveling and tasting each other causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

You pulled back when Harry laid down on the bed, taking in the gushy feeling you had as you smiled. 

“Want you,” you simply stated. 

“You have me, angel.” 

“I know, but I want you. Need you,” your eyes pleaded for his touch, to feel him inside of you, for him to make you feel good. You desperately craved for his hands on all of you, his mouth kissing every inch of your skin, and his love passionately pouring out of his veins. 

Harry nodded, smiling. “Need you too. Need you forever,” he said, connecting your lips again as he hovered over you. 

You two kissed for a while, giggling against each other’s lips and having his weight on top of you as your hands roamed his back. You bucked your hips into his, feeling the hard-on that was growing in his pants, which made Harry grind into your center, moaning softly into your mouth. 

“Please do something,” you said, and he nodded, getting off of you before taking his jacket and shirt off swiftly. His tattoos were showcased in front of you and all you wanted to do was kiss every single one of them. “You’re beautiful, Harry,” you complimented, and he blushed, a soft ‘thank you’ came out of his mouth. Next was his pants, and before he was able to take his briefs off, you stopped him, telling him that you wanted to do it. 

You got off the bed, switching positions with him as you were now standing up as Harry laid down on the bed. You smiled, eyes glancing all around his body. He suddenly felt shy and intimidated under your stare, but he knew he had no reason to be because you were simply admiring him. This time around when it came to physically be vulnerable with someone, he knew he didn’t have to worry anymore when it came to you. 

You took off your lilac nightgown, exposing your body to Harry’s eyes. Your nipples had hardened due to the exposure to the cold. His eyes glimmered as he gazed at your stunning and beautiful body. Every curve and inch was something he tried to remember, and he was quite speechless at the sight. He reached out, gently grabbing your hips as he roamed his hands up your body and to your breasts, grabbing both in each of his hands. 

He looked up at you and you smiled down at him as he placed his mouth on your left pebbled nipple, sucking and licking it as his hand fondled with the other. You laced your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp as he did so, switching over to your right nipple. 

Harry pulled away, looking at you. “You’re an actual angel. You’re so beautiful.” 

“Harry…” you blushed. 

“You are, angel. So beautiful. Can’t believe I get to see you like this.” He kissed the valley of your breasts and down your stomach before getting up and pushing you down onto the bed with ease. He settled in between your legs, arms hooked under your thighs. 

Continuing kissing down your stomach, he reached the hem of your underwear, looking up at you before asking, “Can I take these off? Wanna make you feel good—the same way you always make me feel good.” 

“Please. Take them off. Wanna feel your mouth on me,” you pleaded as your arousal heightened. You wrapped your legs around his back, eagerly pulling his head towards your center, making Harry let out a chuckle. 

“Easy, angel. Not going anywhere.” Harry kissed your stomach once more before pulling off your beige underwear. You were glistening below him; you made a complete mess in your panties. “Fuck, you’re so wet. This all for me?” 

“Mhm. All for you, Harry, please,” you whispered impatiently. Harry’s dirty talk had only increased your need for him as it was quite surprising to see this side of him since he was more on the shy and reserved side outside, but nonetheless, you loved both sides—you loved him. 

Harry leaned down, pressing multiple kisses to your inner thighs, nibbling on the skin gently. You bucked your hips as he trailed his kisses towards your pussy that was eagerly waiting to be touched and licked. When he got there, he pressed a kiss to your clit before kitten-licking your sensitive button, making you softly moan. 

His tongue licked into the entrance of your pussy, gathering your arousal on the tip of his tongue to lubricate your clit even more. 

“Fuck,” you groaned as your hands found his curly locks, tugging at them gently. 

“You could do that harder, I don’t mind it,” Harry told you before going back to eating you out. You pulled harder and Harry deeply groaned against you, sending vibrations up your body. 

His hands wandered around your body, feeling the softness of your skin against his hands. Your skin had formed goosebumps due to his touch, and Harry smoothed out your skin so you were warm. He sucked on your clit quite harshly, earning a moan of his name from your lips as he grabbed both of your tits in his hands, squeezing them. 

You placed your hands on top of his, squeezing them with him, and Harry almost came at the sight of that. There you were, moaning his name out, getting your pussy eaten, and squeezing your tits on top of his hands. A sight he truly was lucky enough to see. 

Harry pulled one hand away to rub your clit as he tongued around your wet hole before tongue fucking you. He rubbed your clit at a moderate speed, enough for you to thrust your hips off the bed. Harry pulled his other hand that was still on one of your breasts away to pin your hips down onto the bed. 

“Stay still for me, angel,” he instructed, voice deep that made you even wetter. “You taste so good. Could eat you out all day.” 

“Harry…” you trailed, whining desperately for your release. “W-Wanna…cum…need to.” Your sentences were broken and Harry thought that was a good sign, knowing that he was doing so well you couldn’t form a proper sentence. 

“Tell me what you need. Let me know, so I can get you there.” 

“F-Fingers,” you told him, and he immediately brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing it before inserting two fingers inside your pussy. He thrust slowly, curling his fingers up to feel your walls.

He felt you pulsing around him as your legs were wrapped tightly around his back as you screamed his name over and over again. 

“C’mon, love. Give me one,” he encouraged, thrusting his fingers a bit faster. 

Once he hit the spot over and over again, you saw stars. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, and you felt dizzy. The pleasure that ran through your body was overwhelming in the best way possible and you choked out a few sobs. It had hit you like a brick that you saw coming, but you were still surprised and shocked by the impact. 

Your hands held Harry’s hair tight that he thought for a moment that you might actually rip it off. Harry rubbed your pussy as you came down from your high, licking your orgasm that was seeping through your cunt, taking every drop of it. He looked up to see your head thrown back, chest heaving, and a vein that was bulging against your skin. He kissed your thighs while his other hand trailed across your body. 

When you finally were able to catch your breath, Harry kissed up your body, leaving the softest and loving kisses to your skin as you were quite sensitive. You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours as you immediately stuck your tongue in his mouth, swirling it with his to taste yourself on him—a mixture of his taste and your orgasm all on his tongue had made you wetter. 

Harry was grinding himself against your leg, trying to relieve some pressure. 

“Want you,” you told him once he pulled away, looking at him intently. 

“You sure?” 

“Absolutely. Please? Only if you want to-”

“I definitely want to. Just wanna make sure you were sure,” he breathed out a chuckle. 

“Course I want to.” There was a bit of silence between you two as you were simply just admiring him as he hovered over you. “Are you gonna fuck me, Harry?” You broke the silence, and Harry broke out of his trance, shyly giggling before getting off the bed. 

He peeled away his briefs, cock standing straight up from the slight painful restraint. He was big—girth and length wise, and you felt your mouth salivating from just looking at him. He got back on the bed, in between your legs as he sat on his knees. Spitting on his hand, he grabbed a hold of his dick, stroking it to relieve the pressure. The view was beautiful in every single way possible, and you didn’t dare to bat an eye because you didn’t want to miss one second of it. 

Wanting to take over for him, you reached forward, replacing his hand with yours as you slowly stroked his cock for him. Harry had a smug smile on his face but soon changed into a face of pure pleasure as your hand worked against him. His mouth was open as he let out a soft moan, looking down at your eyes as you were looking up, completely loving his reaction to your touch. 

“You’re so pretty, Harry,” you complimented as you continued to touch him. Your other hand reached forward to fondle with his balls, rolling them into your hand as Harry whimpered. “Love seeing you like this. Most gorgeous man I’ve seen in my life.” 

“Please, angel, you’re being too nice…” he managed to groan out, hands gripping your thighs. 

“But it’s true. Look so pretty when you’re like this, but also when you’re hitting the heavy bags. When we go out to eat and you mindlessly drink your entire drink while waiting for the food. But I think you’ll look extra pretty than you already are if you cum.” Your words of declaration were getting him on the edge as you stroke him. The way your voice slightly changed as you looked up at him with the most innocent eyes made him thrust into your hand, gripping the flesh of your skin as he threw his head back. 

“You think so?” 

“Mhm. Gonna be so pretty when you cum all over my body, my tits. Can you do that? For me, can you do that? Please?” You were completely begging for it, but even with all the begging, he knew that you had all the control right now. 

Your feet rubbed his calves up and down, and it was the simplest touch, but it heightened Harry’s need to let go. 

“Wanna cum for you, yeah.” His breaths were heavy and harsh as your touch was focused on his tip, wrapping your delicate hands around the head where he was most sensitive. 

Harry’s moans stuttered as a series of profanities slipped from his lips, spilling onto your stomach and breasts. You smiled to yourself as you studied his face when he came undone; his mouth was open, occasionally biting his lip, and eyes shut closed as his head was thrown back—he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, and the fact that you got to see him like this was an honor. 

When he came down from his high, he slowly opened his eyes, meeting yours, staring right at him. You smirked, body covered in his orgasm, and he thought that was a picture worth taking. You were gorgeous covered in his pleasure that you caused, and you seemed to love it too since you made no effort to wipe it off. 

Boldly, he leaned down, dragging his tongue from your stomach to your tit, spending the most time on your breasts as he nibbled and licked your nipples, collecting his orgasm from your skin and held it on the tip of his tongue until he reached your mouth. You willingly opened your mouth as his tongue delved right in, feeding you his cum. 

You two passionately kissed, tasting him ever so sensually. You moaned into his mouth, thinking about how the sight of Harry licking his orgasm off of your body was the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. With your hips jerking up, you felt yourself getting wet again and in need to release once more. 

You whimpered, pulling away. “Please. Need you so bad.” Harry nodded, agreeing. 

“Condom?” He asked, and you immediately reached over to your bedside table, ripping open the condom before rolling it onto his dick that was still hard. 

Harry curled in his lips, watching you. You gave him a few extra strokes for good measure, earning a soft moan from his mouth. He took his length in his hand, running the tip up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and lubricating his cock. He gave you one last look and you nodded before he slowly pushed in, indulging in your wetness and softness. 

A moan came out of both of your mouths, feeling completely full and warm for one another with the stretch Harry had on you. He planted his elbows on both sides of you, holding himself up over you as he slowly began to thrust. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Feel so good for me.” He placed a kiss on your lips as he whispered. He found a rhythm as he started to move faster, rocking his hips against yours, making you moan. 

It was a feeling like no other, and it was the amount of love you two had for one another that made this experience much more special. Love was practically oozing out of both of your veins, filling the room to its maximum capacity as the both of you moaned out in pleasure. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms looped around his back, hugging him closer to you as if he couldn’t get closer. You whined into his ear, the sounds of your pleasure were music to his eyes, sending a shiver down his body, making him jerk. But that jolt had hit your g-spot, and you screamed out in ecstasy. 

“Right there. Keep doing that. Keep fucking me,” you managed to say. Harry maintained his pace, going deeper, and fucking you into oblivion as you kept crying and screaming his name out. 

Harry’s lips attached to your neck, nibbling and licking your skin, leaving a few decent size love bites that he was sure to admire when they’d fully formed. Your nails had raked down his back, leaving a burning but pleasurable sting down his skin, letting him know that he was doing an amazing job. 

“You like that?” He groaned into your ear, leaving chills rising onto your skin. 

“Mhm. Just like that. Don’t stop. I-I’m so close.” You threw your head back into the pillows, and Harry took the opportunity to attack your exposed neck with kisses again. Your hands found Harry’s hair, tugging at his curls as he kissed you. That encouraged him to fuck you harder and faster, repeatedly hitting your special spot. “O-Oh…” 

“Come on, angel love. Cum for me, please. Wanna see you make a mess around me,” he encouraged you. 

With a few more thrusts, you were done. You had fully and completely released around him as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Your vision had gone white for a few seconds, head dizzy, and your breaths were caught in your throat as your hips involuntarily jolted, meeting his thrusts that were fucking you through your high. 

Harry started to thrust sloppily, burying his face in your neck as he spilled into the condom. His hot breath was against your skin as he started to slow down, coming down from his orgasm. 

The room was silent as the only sounds present were the heavy breaths and the post-orgasmic whimpers coming from your mouth as you two held one another. Your nails gently scratched down his back, contrasting to the desperate and needy scratches that you had given him just a few minutes ago. 

Harry lifted his head up, meeting your eyes before connecting his lips against yours, tongue meeting first before your lips moved in sync so passionately and lovingly that you both unspokenly agreed to never taste another pair of lips again. 

“I love you so much,” Harry said, resting his chin on your chest. 

You smiled down at him, eyes gleaming as you looked at your love, your entire heart, the man that had stolen your breath and heart just by one look. 

“And I love you too.” 

Waking up to the warmth of the body next to you was your favorite thing in the morning—had been for six months now. The sight next to you was something you wouldn’t get used to as you always found yourself feeling so lucky every single time you woke up next to him. 

But a pout formed onto your face when you saw that the space next to you was empty. The crinkled yellow sheets were left, missing a certain person that you had been excited to see this morning since you closed your eyes the night prior. 

Turning over to your bedside table, you grabbed your pager, seeing if you had any messages, and one specifically stood out to you, making you sleepily smile at your pager. 

“Goodmorning, angel,” Harry greeted as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. He was wearing a gray sweatsuit, holding a white paper bag in one hand and a smoothie tray, that held two smoothies, in the other hand with a loving smile plastered on his face, making his dimples poke out. 

“Mm. Hi, darling.” Your arms reached forward, gesturing him to come to you, and he gladly did, situating himself on your body as you wrapped your arms around him. 

You two stayed like that for a moment, basking in the presence and gratitude of one another. It was nice until your stomach started growling, making Harry chuckle. 

“C’mon, gotta feed my girl before we head to the gym.” He got off of you, helping you up and out of the bed before helping you make the bed. He walked over to the kitchen before you went to the restroom, and when you walked out, Harry had your breakfast set on a plate. 

You two made light conversation, mostly enjoying the silence and tastiness of the food before you got ready to go to the gym. 

When you walked into Don’s Box, you were immediately greeted by a few of the members, giving you high fives, as well as saying hi to Harry. The entire gym had found out you two were together when they started to notice Harry coming into the gym almost every day and staying until the gym closed, so a few people had their speculations. Don was certain you two would get together from the very beginning, and he had told you that the only reason he was trying to act intimidating when Harry first walked in was that he sensed that something would happen, and he was right, something did happen. 

Benny was ecstatic; jokingly telling Harry that he could now spend time with his wife since you had taken all of Harry’s time now, which Benny earned a push from Harry towards the ropes of the ring. Benny’s wife was also pregnant and wanted Harry to be the godfather, which Harry immediately took on that responsibility and role. But that also meant since you and Harry were planning on staying together for the long run, you were becoming a godmother as well, which you were very excited about. 

You climbed up into the ring as Harry followed. You had a day off, and no one needed your attention other than Harry, so you helped him put on his gloves after you wrapped his hands in tape, and you put on your mitts, making sure they were tight before clapping the mitts together—Harry punched his gloves together, making sure they were comfortable. 

You raised your brows at him teasingly. “Ready, darling?” 

“Ready as always, my angel,” he responded, and you smirked. 

“Give me a good one. Give me 1.” 

talk to me about your favorite moments, your thoughts and feelings about this pls! thank you for reading <3

[modern-vellichor]

Omg what a lovely Football Bucky request 😍 mind doing a continuation where they’re a happy couple now and the team adores them ? Even a little smut if you want 🤭

hiya! I love this lol. i defo wouldn’t have thought of this by myself. i hope you enjoy this yall!

A/N: i have never watched a game of american football nor do i understand the rules of that sport, it just looks like cheater’s rugby. also i didn’t include any smut because its eleven in the morning and i’ve only had one cup of coffee and im sorry its a little shot but god its so sweet. Warnings: a little bit of angst, some very poetic fluff, self doubt, literally the cutest thing ive ever written no joke.

You waited patiently on the sodden field. The heavy rain had ceased to a light drizzle. It was warm and you skin was soaked and dripping, your jeans sticking to your legs. Bucky was in the changing rooms with his other teammates. Your hair was dripping down your back. You lifted your head to the sky, warm rain misted across your face. It dripped down the column of your neck. You smiled.

Bucky stood at the head of his team, marching across the pitch, ready to retire for the evening. He watched you quietly, you were in a state of pure bliss. Bucky tried to dismiss his team, but the hopeless romantics stood and watched, although they tried to disappear into the background. 

Bucky pressed a kiss to your exposed neck. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck. Hand in hand, the two of you walked off the field with the rest of the team ogling the happy couple.

The two of you lived in your dorm. Both of you were graduating this year. It worried you. Neither of you knew what you were doing after college. You were saving up for a house and looking for more permanent jobs, and so was Bucky. But you hadn’t had the talk yet. Neither of you knew what your future as a couple looked like, and you were scared that all your years of bliss were going to be over soon.

Bucky, sweaty and sodden, showered in your dorm. You changed out of your soaking clothes and curled up under your sheets. Your good mood turned sour by the impending doom of post graduate life. 

Bucky looked over your form, shaking and cold under feather sheets.  He curled in behind you, his muscled arms snaking around your waist. His scent overwhelmed your senses and calmed you down. The weight of the world was relieved from your shoulders with every inhale of Bucky. He nuzzled into the back of your neck. pressing soothing kisses to the nape of your neck and across your shoulders, removing the tension from your shoulders with kisses to spine.

“What’s wrong, doll?” He mumbled lovingly into your skin. His voice vibrated through your bones, and the love in his tone surged through you. You twisted in your sheets and turned to gaze into the adoring eyes of your lover.

“Where are you going after this?” You asked with a sad smile. 

“Wherever you go, princess,” he assured. His answer scared you, it shook you to the core. Your mouth fell open as you processed his words and formed a response.

“Why? What if I’m not the life you need? What if-”

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips slotting against yours. His tongue danced with yours for just a brief moment before he pulled away. He cupped your tear soaked face and his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly.

“You’ll always be the life I need. You’re what I want.” He pressed his forehead against yours and you both closed your eyes. He took one hands from your cheek and interlocked your fingers. He brought your intertwined hands up to next to your faces. “I’ll put a ring on this finger one day, I swear I will.”

Those were the final words that fell from his oh, so kissable lips before you crashed your mouth against his. The passionate kiss lasted an age before you both pulled away, gasping for breath.

The next afternoon, you were stood in the center of the field once again. The team exited the changing rooms, but Bucky was nowhere to be scene. One of the boys ran up to you with an excited smile.

“He’s waiting for you in there. Hurry.”

You jogged towards the changing rooms. The team gathered outside in silence, listening excitedly. Bucky was sitting on one of the benches. He patted his lap and you obediently balanced yourself on his toned thighs.

“It’s not much, but it’ll do for now,” he whispered. He pulled out a ring, a simple faux gold band that would definitely stain your finger green. A little gold heart stared up at you and you knew that Bucky was the one. It didn’t even fit on your ring finger, so it settled on your middle finger of your left hand. The kiss you shared was sweet. The metal gleamed on your finger as the team screamed and jumped up and down with joy at the sight of the happy couple exited the changing rooms. 

The chorus of cheers only grew louder as you shared another quick kiss. This was going to be your life. And you had never been happier.

Bucky would replace that ring with a diamond one day. He promised you that much. He didn’t care how long it took, but he would do it. He would make you the happiest girl in the world, even if it killed him.

[kcrinas]

hi  sexies  !   i’m  dani  (  she/her  )  ,  21  &  i’m  from  the  gta  aka  ur  messy  canadian  wassup  🤠  thank  u  guys  sm  for  applying  all  ur  muses  are  so  beautiful  &  im  sm  in  love  already  !  i  rly  wanna  plot  w  every  single  one  of  u  so  pls  give  this  a  like  for  permission  for  me  2  come  bug  u  for  plots  !  🖤  karina’s  info  &  wanted  connections  r  under  the  cut  !

karina maji was spotted in the fashion district adorning gucci leather ankle boots , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to don’t stop by meg thee stallion . you may know them as @karina or as that mishti rahman lookalike . their  twenty - fourth  birthday just passed . while living in tribeca , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be tenacious but on the other hand quixotic . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines .  (   cisfemale / she/her + dani / 21 / she/her  )

             *     𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬  :

full  name  :  karina aarvi maji  .

nicknames  :  kar  ,  rina  ,  maji

age  :  twenty  -  four  .

gender  :  cisfemale  ,  she/her  .

sexual  orientation  :  pansexual  .

hometown  :  chicago , illinois   .

occupation  :  professional  mma  fighter  /  instagram  model  .

zodiac  chart  :   aquarius  sun  ,  gemini  moon  ,  scorpio  rising  .

character  inspo  : alicia mendez (  kingdom )  ,  cristina yang (  grey’s anatomy )  ,  princess jasmine (  aladdin  )  ,  megara (  hercules  )  ,  alyssa  (  the  end  of  the  f*cking  world  )  ,  kat  stratford  (  10  things  i  hate  about  you  )

                  *  𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲  :

                                tw  :   death  ,  accident  ,  drugs  .  

karina’s  life  began  in  chicago  ,  illinois  .  born  where  her  parents  spent  their  life  ,  grew  up  together  &  eventually  ended  up  married  .  it  was  the  perfect  love  story  ,  best  friends  -  then  lovers  -  then  soulmates  .  tied  for  life  ,  married  young  ,  in  their  mid  20′s  .  but the  love  between  the  two  of  them  never  faltering  once  even  after  another  10  years  pass  .  

her  mother  ,  was  a  highly  sought  after  model  .  her  father  ,  one  of  the  most  legendary  ufc  fighters  in  the  league  .  the  maji’s  were  considered  royalty  to  the  tabloids  ,  their  love  story  inspiring  many  .  their  life   was  seemingly  so  perfect  ,  a  dream  to  many  .  &  when  they  found  themselves  blessed  with  a  little  girl  after  five  years  of  marriage  ,  it  just  made  them  an  even  more  “  perfect  ”  family  .

karina  was  treated  like  a  princess  ,  her  parents  adored  the  ground  she  walked  on  &  karina  did  the  same  with  them  .  she  was  well  -  behaved  growing  up  ,  knowing  how  lucky  she  was  to  be  living  so  luxurious  ,  something  her  parents  taught  her  to  appreciate  since  she  was  old  enough  to  understand  .  they  drilled  gratefulness  into  her  head  by  the  age  of  five  .  it  was  a  very  rare  occurrence  where  karina  would  fight  or  disrespect  her  parents  .

they  lived  in  chicago  for  many  years  ,  a  way  for  them  to  keep  their  roots  established  while  raising  karina  .  &  have  more  privacy  than  living  in  their  career  hubs  would  give  them  -  aka  ,  nyc  or  la  .  it  was  much  more  accessible  for  her  father  to  work  out  of  chicago  ,  but  for  her  mother  ,  there  were  many  hours  spent  travelling  between  chicago  &  new  york  .  too  many  .  

(   tw  death  ,  plane  crash  )  it  was  the  mere  age  of  17  ,  when  karina’s  loving  mother  never  returned  home  from  her  trip  to  new  york  .  tragedy  struck  when  her  plane  crashed  due  to  pilot  error  .  the  day  that  changed  not  only  karina’s  life  permanently  ,  but  her  father  too  .  both  their  hearts  broke  into  two  that  day  .

she  wondered  for  months  how  she  could  possibly  continue  life  &  living  without  her  mom  in  it  .  &  the  older  she  got  ,  the  more  &  more  the  feeling  invaded  her  .  through  every  life  experience  she  had  afterwards  she  wished  with  everything  in  her  that  her  mom  was  there  next  to  her  .  

karina  went  from  a  happy  ,  extroverted  &  polite  girl  to  a  closed  off  ,   sardonic  &  enigmatic  woman  .  it  was  as  if  the  light  was  taken  out  of  her  body  &  she  turned  into  someone  unrecognizable  . 

(  tw  drugs  )  it  tore  her  dad  apart  ,  after  taking  a  year  off  to  mend  ,  he  fell  into  a  spiral  of  alcohol  &  drugs  ,  and  he  never  went  back  .  his  career  completely  ended  .   to  this  day  ,  her  dad  hasn’t  stepped  foot  in  the  ring  since  her  mother’s  death  .

her  senior  year  of  high  school  -  karina  fell  into  that  same  spiral  .  using  cocaine  ,  xanax  ,  weed  &  booze  to  cure  her  broken  heart  .  &  she  felt  like  it  did  ,  for  a  little  while  anyway  .  by  some  miracle  ,  she  graduated  with  her  diploma  .  but  that  didn’t  mean  much  anyway  ,  karina  wasn’t  going  to  college   ,  she  knew  exactly  what  she  wanted  to  do  with  the  rest  of  her  life  .

karina  grew  up  religiously  watching  her  dad  fight  ,  she’d  seen  tapes  of  every  single  one  of  his  fights  before  she  was  old  enough  to  watch  them  &  from  before  she  was  born   .  religiously  trained  &  boxed  with  her  father  every  sunday  since  she  was  eleven  .  she  learned  the  ins  &  out  at  a  young  age  ,  &  fell  in  love  with  the  sport  the  second  she  took  her  first  swing  .  

she  fell  even  more  heavily  into  training  after  her  mom  passed  ,  spending  practically  every  single  day  honing  her  skills  &  building  herself  to  follow  in  her  dad’s  footsteps  &  become  one  of  the  best  fighters  the  ufc  has  ever  seen  .

began  building  her  career  at  eighteen  by  moving  to  new  york  city ,  she  was  signed  by  the  age  of  20  .  suddenly  appearing  in  the  tabloids  ,  there  was  something  about  her  that  seemed  to  bring  in  people’s  attention  .  mma  fans  or  not  ,   she  gained  a  large  following  on  social  media  .  

suddenly  ,  she  was  getting  sponsorship  offers  left  &  right  .  whether  it  was  mma  related  or  sugarbear  hair  ,  she  was  getting  them  .  karina  took  the  ones  that  paid  her  well  ,  &  her  following  just  seemed  to  keep  rising  every  day  after  that  ,  basically  became  considered  an  “ influencer ”  along  with  her  other  title  .  

at  the  age  of  21  ,  karina  became  one  of  the  youngest  female  ever  to  be  signed  by  the  UFC  .  this  was  a  big  deal  to  her  ,  as  it’s  a  dream  so  many  fighters  wish  for  .  something  it  takes  years  of  hard  work  &  dedication  to  accomplish  .  something  she  worked  her  entire  life  for  .

she’s  been  fighting  with  the  ufc  for  the  last  three  years  ,  loving  every  minute  of  it   .  the  intense  training  ,  the  fights  ,  the  interviews  ,  it  all  gives  her  a  rush  she  can’t  explain  .  something  drugs  couldn’t  give  her  ,  which  she’s  required  to  get  tested  for  every  once  in  a  while  ,  usually  before  a  fight  .  she’s  found  her  ways  around  using  without  it  ruining  her  career  and/or  getting  caught  .  let’s  see  how  long  that  lasts  ..  ; - )  ksjndfsfd

with  all  the  money  that  she’s  reigned  in  the  last  few  years  from  the  ufc  along  with  her  instagram  sponsorships  ,  she’s  sending  a  lot of  it  to  her  father  ,  considering  his  “retirement”  fund  is  basically  non  -  existent  while  he  stays  cooped  up  in  their  chicago  family  home  ,  surrounded  by  memories  of  her  mother .  while  karina  stays  resided  in  her  cozy  tribeca  home  ,  only  steps  away  from  her  training  gym  .

                *  𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  :

karina  is  a  v  hard  nut  2  crack  .  she’s  closed  off  ,  sardonic  &  doesn’t  really  converse  much  with  strangers  

it’s  basically  been  her  &  her  dad  since  her  mom’s  passing  ,  so  she’s  very  hard  to  get  close  to  .  but  once  u  do  ,  she’ll  never  let  u  go .

she’s  loyal  to  a  fault  ,  because  she’s  always  afraid  of  people  leaving / d*ing  .  

she’s  trying  to  branch  out  &  make  more  friends  since  moving  to  tribeca  ,  but  she  truly  doesn’t  open  up  to  anyone  .   if  she  opens  up  to  you  about  her  life  or  her  past  ,  she  truly  trusts  u  ,  &  that  means  something

she  tends  to  come  off  as  intimidating  or  ..  bitchy  ,  even  when  she  doesn’t  mean  to  .  her  personality  just  tends  to  be  dry  .  she  tends  to  have  dark  humour  ,  so  she  has  to  be  careful  who  she  makes  jokes  around skndfkk 

sometimes  tends  2  stir  up  drama  even  by  accident  .  nskjkf

if  she’s  not  training  for  a  fight  ,  she’ll  be  out  partying  every  night  .  dancing  on  tables  &  probably  getting  herself  kicked  out  of  whatever  bar/club  she  found  herself  in  that  night  .  doing  what  she  can  to  get  drunk  or  feel  any  type  of  high  ,  whether  that  be  drugs  or  waking  up  next  to  a  stranger  .  

she’s  heavily  into  fashion  &  always  posting  cute  outfits  on  instagram  ,  something  that  caused  her  following  to  grow  .

she’s  lowkey  a  hopeless  romantic  ...  seeing  how  her  parents  fell  in  love  ,   but  it  scares  tf  out  of  her  because  of  their  ending  .  &  she’d  literally  never  admit  this  to  anyone  ever  .

she’s  a  new  muse  &  i’m  still  developing  her  but  i  have  sm  muse  so  i’m  very  excited  &  i  rly  hope  you  guys  like  her  !

             *  𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝  𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬  :

ok  hello  if  u  read  that  long  ass  messy  shit  ur  a  baddie  🖤  anyway  ,  for  wc’s  ,  i  literally  have  so  many  !!  they  are  all  listed  here  @karinawcs​ ,  so  take  a  peek  &  if  you  like  any  of  them  lmk  bc  i  have  tons  of  headcannons / ideas  for  all  those  !  hehe  ily  let’s  plot  

[centvr]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆

          [  mat bar/zal  .  20  .  male .  he / him  ] just saw 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐔𝐒 '𝐂𝐀𝐙' 𝐙𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐑 dragging their suitcase up the steps of 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 .  good luck living with 𝐇𝐈𝐌 ,  word around campus is that they’re 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 ,  𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇  ,  𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄  &  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 .  makes sense they chose that house now  ,  doesn’t it  ?  let’s hope this new living situation doesn’t affect their 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐑 year of 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘   [  oliver .  22  .  they/them  .  est  ]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒

          the son of one of the most prominent nflers not following in his father's footsteps, shunned for choosing the wrong sport ( perhaps his father should have known, naming him CASSIUS after the betrayer ) ; a graduate of the us national team development ( hockey ) program where he really came into his own as a TWO-WAY CENTER & continues to grow with his college team ; in his third and final year studying BIOLOGY, because if the nhl didn’t pan out he always wanted to be a vet ; a sharks prospect, but A MINNESOTA BOY through and through, from his love of frozen lakes to his love of hockey ; just someone who hides everything with a smile and a nonchalant attitude even when he’s about to break and knows failure is not an option when he's come this far.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

( tw for death & verbal / emotional abuse )

— cassius adrian zeckhauser was born on a chilly november day, the first snow flurries of the year fluttering outside the st. paul ( minnesota ) hospital window. star nfl quarterback robert zeckhauser at the tailend of his career and his beautiful model wife welcomed their newborn son into what should have been the perfect life — with a name like that though, it probably should’ve been obvious that he wasn’t destined to be happy.

— and it was extremely close to perfect for almost twelve years. time was split between st paul and a summer and vacation home in monterey, california. caz followed in his father’s footsteps playing football, and also hockey as all good minnesota children do. it was a snowy night not too long after his twelfth birthday when his mother passed away suddenly of what doctors claimed were natural causes. they never were able to identify what exactly it was that ended her beautiful life, all caz knows is that after that things changed.

— now in retirement from playing, his father sold their main home in minnesota and moved them permanently to monterey. grief changes people, and not always for the better. in the wake of the loss of his wife, robert zeckhauser threw himself into the bottom of a bottle and coaching rather than face his grief and became obsessed with what he saw to be his son’s god given path to nfl stardom.

— caz, to his credit, did show great potential at football. his father’s additional coaching only gave him an edge : no one could argue that he was talented just because of his father’s influence — unless they were just referring to him inheriting his genes. caz loved football actually, but that was before his father’s dogged obsession with him succeeding in it. then high school came and thing became much worse. the more robert zeckhauser became obsessed with his son following in his football career, the more caz began to hate it.

— the field was soon associated with negativity, even though his coaches did their best, it wasn’t enough to tamper the infamous temper of robert zeckhauser. he never laid a hand on caz, but that was only because he didn’t have to — caz was simply too afraid.

— and so caz began to spend more and more time at the one place that seemed to bring good memories for him : the ice rink. growing up in minnesota, caz knew how to skate and how to play the game, of course ; it was pretty much inevitable. he’d shown what same said could be elite PROMISE at that too before robert zeckhauser packed up ship and moved them to sunny california. hockey wasn’t just for the frigid sub-zero temperatures of canada. 

— with the extra time on the rink to calm his mind and escape the noise of the outside world, caz became even better, standing out boldly on his hockey team as the BEST by miles ( and that meant catching the attention of scouts for a certain program ). robert would yell at dinner about priorities ; for once, caz wouldn’t listen. it all came to a head when caz received an invite to try out for the us national team development program before his junior year of high school. and then caz finally saw a chance at salvation : a way out. ( all robert zeckhauser saw was his son personally spiting him by picking the wrong sport and throwing away millions and tainting the family legacy ).

— but regardless, caz ended up making the squad by the skin of his teeth, playing for them for two years — and best of all, being able to spend the school year back in minnesota away from the presence of his father. it was evident early on that he made the right choice, and under the usntdp coaches he made progress in leaps and bounds — going from barely making it into the program into one of their best. but with that came his father’s wrath — caz only went home to monterey when he had to, and sometimes not even then, preferring to stay with one of his teammates if they would have him. summers were near inescapable though, filled with loud, toxic beratements and even longer, more toxic silences.

— fortunately or perhaps unfortunately, caz was climbing the prospect charts though — and the only thing robert zeckhauser hated more than his son was bad press, and that meant all their arguing and deeply negative relationship was kept under tight wraps from the public eye. caz’s development and talent and increasing prestige was probably the only thing that kept his father from actually cutting all ties with him, which at least meant he never had to want for money to support himself.

— caz had plenty of schools clamoring for him to commit by his senior year, but most intriguing was a personal visit from the head coach and athletic director of the west coast halston university. meant to bring an east coast flavor to the west, they’d just recently received their division i designation for their men’s hockey team only the season past and wanted caz to be their defining piece to keep them there. there were other schools of course, boston university, minnesota, north dakota, a handful of ivies, and yet caz’s mind kept going back to halston and eventually he signed on the dotted line for them.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂

— his major is bio because if the nhl doesn’t work out he always wanted to be a vet and has a deep love for animals. a dog is something he’s always wanted, but has never had the time of physical stability to adopt one. he doesn’t have much time during the school year but in the summer he volunteers part-time at an animal clinic.

— drafted before his freshman year in the 2018 draft 21st overall to the san jose sharks :) he’s a two-way, playmaking center with exceptional skating skills. centers the first line and plays on the powerplay, and more recently has become a fixture on the penalty kill as his defensive abilities have gotten better ( i’m thinking jack eic/hel in style, but like... if you walked jack back to an appropriate college level lmAO ). wears number 13 bc im lazy in edits and has an A.

— caz is in his third and final year of college. thanks to a heavy number of ap credits, summer classes, and a much sharper mind than most people give him credit for ( and far too much stress and sleep deprivation ), he’s close to pulling off his plan to graduate in three years. ideally, the sharks would have liked him to be playing with their ahl team this year, but caz had made it clear he wanted to graduate before joining the nhl, upholding a promise he’d made to his mother before she passed away. it was agreed caz would have three years, and he hopes to make the team straight out of training camp come next august.

— caz was sixteen, finally away from his father and thriving under the guidance of the ntdp, when he realized he liked guys just as much as he liked girls — maybe even a lot more. it’s something he had to come to begrudging acceptance with ; a difficult task for him at first. it was simply a fact and facet carefully explored behind locked doors and then carefully buried where no one could ever find out ( he doesn’t know which would be worse : his father or the media ). currently, he’s extremely careful about his approach with the same sex, often just sleeping with guys also in the closet or at least those who understand the sensitivity of the subject — often fellow athletes.

— when it comes to destressing, caz is unsurprisingly one to frequent the rink or go for a run. he has recently taken up yoga though which has had the added benefit of improving his flexibility so win-win, he guesses.

— caz keeps a pretty steady schedule somehow, rising at nearly the same early time every day even if the time he goes to sleep fluctuates and even if he doesn’t have a morning practice to get to. he believes it’s a good habit to establish. he’ll go down to the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast. that being said, that doesn’t mean he’s a morning person — he’s grumpy and near mute until he’s had at least two cups of coffee, but he will offer to make anyone who’s also up that early an omlet.

— any positive traits caz exudes are certainly in no way thanks to his father, but rather a series of people who stepped into that role when he left at sixteen. he didn’t realize it at the time, but running away from something also become running toward something else. his coaches stepped into fatherly roles in his real father’s absence. they and his billet family and the parents of his friends in the program kept him grounded and level-headed when he could have turned out much differently.

— he’s a regular at a cafe near campus that he stops at after morning workouts/practices before going to his first class. he drinks his coffee black.

— he’s no chef but he’s decent in the kitchen and very cognizant of the food he puts into his body. because of that, he’s also not a huge drinker either and rarely consumes soda.

— there’s a pullup bar on his door and he starts and ends his day with situps, pushups, and pullups.

— caz was raised roman catholic but his own beliefs have trended strongly toward agnostic as he’s gotten older.

— he goes by caz and pretty much caz only. he’s doesn’t make it very well known what his actual first name is, and almost everyone who does know has found out on accident be it a rookie mistake in the hockey team’s promoing ( doesn’t happen much anymore ) or a curious eye on his driver’s license. cassius is what his father calls him, and he’d prefer it if no one else did.

— the décor of his room is extremely minimalist. a photo of a night sky over a frozen lake in minnesota on his wall and one from his time at the ndtp on his nightstand are the only ones in his room. a sharks pennant hangs on the inside of his door as a reminder of what he’s working toward. it’s otherwise kept bare and clean. his sheets are gray, his comforter plain black. he keeps thinking about getting some plants but has never gotten around to it.

— since caz’s start at halston, his father picked up a sports analyst job in the bay area where he also rents a lavish apartment. this means he’s thankfully usually absent in their monterey home which caz usually frequents in the summers save for the month he’s on campus for summer classes.

— accolades : silver medalist ( 2019 world junior championships ), 21st overall 2018 entry level draft, silver medalist ( 2018 IIHF world u18 championships ), gold medalist ( 2017 IIHF world u18 championships ) 

— i imagine that halston’s d1 hockey program functions very similarly to that of arizona state university in that it is an independent program not affiliated with any conference. upon creation of the program, they played a hybrid season against a variety of D1, D2, and D3 programs and transitioned to playing against exclusively D1 programs starting the season before caz arrived on the team ( 2017-2018 ). they have made the frozen four final once last season ( 2020 ) and lost in the semifinals.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

PRIVATE  ,  SELFISH  ,  AMIABLE  &  HARDWORKING

— caz is someone who puts a hundred percent into whatever he does : practice, homework, a friendly game of volleyball in the backyard. no one would call him a slacker by any means, except of course his father. his focus and motivation is unparalleled, and that’s helped him greatly through his life in school and his endeavors toward being a professional athlete. but there are times when he puts too much of himself into something. he’s terrible at multitasking, focusing on one thing at a time in full, and has a tendency to burn out if he’s not careful ( or if no one’s looking out for him — which in his first year at halston, probably was more common than not ). he doesn’t like people who don’t try their hardest, though he’s sympathetic to those who do and still do not seem to get the results they want — especially those on the hockey team, often offering to lend them a hand if they want it.

— in his life caz has come to learn that only person he can fully trust and count on is himself. that’s resulted in a rather selfish streak in him, though he works to not let that appear too much on the surface. he’s not an unkind person who would walk over others to get what he wants, and he fears growing into the arrogance and blunt forwardness of his father, but the ultimate bottom line is he will always chose to help himself over someone else. there are a few rare exceptions to this of course : a handful of his teammates and very close friends.

— still, he’s a friendly person, someone who’d give off fairly good and relaxed vibes ; some may even call him kind. there are plenty of people who’d consider him a friend, though the truth is they might not know all that much about caz. he has the uncanny ability to make people feel like they know him without revealing anything of substance. he’s very much a two-way mirror or the façade in that manner : caz sees out but no one ever sees in. to most he’s happy, he’s fine, friendly, amiable, and never gives anyone a reason to doubt that.

— caz has a way of appearing calm, cool, and collected even when he’s not, and a lot of effort on his part goes into that to come across that way. there’s a lot that can hide behind a smile and an easy-going attitude and caz has perfected that armor meticulously. the truth of course is that he’s under an immense amount of pressure and a lot closer to falling apart then he wants to admit  — he’s afraid if anyone did manage to worm their way in that he’d fall to pieces.

— he’s most reserved at parties, always in attendance and participating enough for it to be socially acceptable but never letting himself go completely. there’s still a lot he can lose, and he’s not in the business of doing anything that could jeopardize that further.

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

— 6′0″ & 189 lbs : caz is unsurprisingly very fit and strong, with the large quads and glutes 🍑 common in hockey players, though his upper body and core strength is nothing to snooze at either.

— black hair with a slight curl, usually kept to a modest length and styled to look effortless, could be described as fluffy or tousled ( pretty much as it looks in most of the gif icons and visage gifsets ). when he’s stressed he has a tendency to run his hands through it and it looks even messier. caz isn’t much on his appearance, but he is careful to tend to his hair. it does get quite long in the summer, seeing as he often doesn’t get it cut between the end of the season until right before pre-season ; often needing to be kept back in a bun near summer’s end.

— gray-hazel eyes : their exact shade depends on the light. they’re very much his father’s eyes over his mother’s warm brown ones ; it’s a fact he hates but he does appreciate the fact he also inherited his dad’s 20-20 vision.

— typically clean shaven or with some stubble when he misses a couple days or so or sometimes slightly more esp around exams and project due date. the exception to this of course is during the end of year tournaments during which he doesn’t shave and looks rather scruffy.

— on a normal day, caz has the fashion sense you’d expect from a college athlete, liberally employing the use of sweatpants, nike and adidas track pants, t-shirts, hoodies, and sneakers and slides. he does have the ability to look nice when he has to though, often cutting a sharp figure in a suit on gamedays and formals, or a slim fitting pair of darkwash jeans and a button down when the occasion calls for it.

— jewelry : he’s almost always wearing a rather non-descript necklace with a small circular pendent that belonged to his mother ; an analogue watch with a brown leather band that doesn’t seem to match with his college athlete look that was a gift on his eighteenth birthday from one of his coaches who became a father-figure in his life ; his right lobe is pierced ( the result of a some very poor judgement in the summer before he arrived at halston, but at least it wasn’t a tattoo of something embarrassing like his friend zac ), very rarely is anything in it and most people don’t know it even exists, but he puts something in it frequently enough that it still hasn’t closed up.

— scars : a small scar over his right cheekbone from an accident on a frozen lake when he was young, near invisible unless you’re close or know it’s there ; two longer scars about two inches long on his right outside elbow from when a cat scratched him at the clinic ; several other small ones he can’t recall the injuries they’re from

— tattoos : a butterfly and a moth in flight together on his left bicep, the butterfly was for his mother, the moth in a way to represent himself ( they mean self-acceptance, after all ).

—  PINTEREST BOARD HERE

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

          first and foremost, i love chatting and brainstorming with people. i think that’s where the most meaningful plots are formed, but here are a few ideas to serve as starting points :

— childhood friend ( any ) : someone who is also from a wealthy family, likely close to monterey or in the very least in california. they had to attend a lot of the same fancy diners and parties as him. perhaps this person is aware of his true relationship with his father and just how deeply negative it is.  — TAKEN BY BLAIR.

— the set up ( female ) : this was a last ditch effort from his father, not long after caz left for the usntdp when he was sixteen, his father set him up with this girl he deemed to be a suitable match, the daughter of another rich family ( perhaps sports related, or just wealthy ). most of their contact probably was over the summer when caz was more free. the nature of their relationship can be brainstormed, robert stopped pushing it when caz was drafted at eighteen ( two years ago ), but i think he still wants it to happen.

— the ex-girlfriend ( female ) : caz only has had one girlfriend in college from his freshman year. this is pretty open-ended but i do strongly believe that she broke up with him ( for whatever reason, but i imagine something along the lines of him not loving her nearly as much as she loved him ). 

— i hate your guts ( any ) : they were groomed to HATE each other, to carry on the stupid rivalry of their fathers that no one remembers the reason for — perhaps it’s as simple as there not being enough room for both of their egos. it doesn’t really matter what the reason that started this was. they don’t really know why they hate each other at this point, it’s just a fact as instinctive as breathing ; not a single conversation can be had without them clashing in some way  — TAKEN BY KIERAN.

— you know i’ve got your back ( male ) : honestly caz just needs a friend, guys...

— animal lover ( any ) : someone who’s run into him at the animal clinic over the summer or is just somehow otherwise aware of his love for animals. i just want to write something about that facet of him.

— the blind date ( female ) : someone his teammates keep trying to set him up with because they’re certain he’s lonely. i mean... he is but that’s not the point. honestly so open ended.  —  TAKEN BY FRANKIE.

— hookups, project partners, people on campus he randomly runs into, fans of the hockey team, fans of him, crushes on him, housemates, the world is our oyster lads.

— also i know the ratio is kinda off on this list but i’m a lot better of coming up with plots for males on the spot so honestly just come vibe w me. okay thank you 😔

𝐎𝐎𝐂

          hello everyone !!! i’m oliver or ollie, 22, they / them pronouns, and in the est timezone. i am very excited to be finally bringing caz off hiatus with the very sexy mat as his fc ( which if you know who he is u probably were like ‘ whiteguyblinking.gif ’ when you saw him on the list but i promise this is gunna work, i’ve been making gif icons like crazy ). he was always my first choice fc for caz but i was always too lazy to make it happen until NOW. also im censoring all actual nhlers names because i don’t need the mortification of this showing up in their tags somehow. anyway, i’m super excited to get things rolling and i hope we’re here for a good long time !!

[holdvns]

hi friends ! i’m farah nd im coming at u live frm the pst timezone to bring u a new muse of mine. so excuse me as i ramble abt holden under the cut. like this post and i will come bother u for plots?? that or u can im me on here or on my discord (farah#1263), whatever works rlly! anyways, super stoked to be here and to get to write with u all!!!!

(TOBY WALLACE, CIS MALE) - Have you seen HOLDEN DONAHUE? HOLDEN is in HIS JUNIOR year. The PHILOSOPHY MAJOR is 21 years old & is a TAURUS. People say HE is QUICK-WITTED, DARING, IRREVERENT and DETACHED. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY SOCIETY. I heard from the gossip blog that HIS FATHER PAID OFF THE SCHOOL TO CHANGE HIS GRADES AFTER HE FAILED FOUR CLASSES LAST SEMESTER FROM NEVER SHOWING UP.  (FARAH. 22. PST. SHE/HER.)

pinterest board / tag

holden grew up between upstate new york and manhattan in an extremely wealthy family. from the outside, his family had the appearance of perfection, but underneath that facade lay years of shocking and hidden family secrets that one way or another got out into society, even if his family tried to put them down as merely rumors.

his father is a highly respected but also deeply feared business man/media magnate known for his cutthroat attitude in his business dealings and personal relationships. he had an extremely difficult childhood, having been orphaned at a young age and passed from relative to relative around europe, many of whom were not very kind to him. still, he was incredibly intelligent and wanted to make something of himself, having this belief in the american dream and wanting to move there if he ever got the chance. after attending college on a scholarship, he was able to use his connections and move to new york, where he founded his own start-up that eventually led to him building his own personal fortune.

his mother was very much a hustler. she grew up poor in new york and at an early age, learned how to use her good looks to manipulate men for the finer things in life. she had a short stint as a model before she met holden’s father, charming him enough to call it quits with his first wife. underneath her obvious beauty, however, was a fiery temper and substance abuse problem. the thing about her was that she really wasn’t made to be a wife and mother. holden’s father thought he could turn her into this perfect socialite/housewife (marrying her and then proceeding to have his older brother, cal, and holden in a very short span of time), but the task proved impossible. she was always only looking out for herself and didn’t enjoy being tied down, certainly not with kids to take care of despite the nannies his father provided. they fought constantly, and their home life was extremely unstable. it was a normal occurrence for holden to see his mother being dragged off to an institution by his father’s security guards or for his mother to use him and his brother as bait to get his father to give her money for drugs, to leave him, or sometimes just to try and get back with him.

eventually, she finally did leave, having told holden and his brother the three of them were moving to los angeles, but leaving without them and dying of a drug overdose shortly after. holden was about six at the time and thinks he has successfully hidden this entire episode from his memory, but it’s definitely something that affects him whether he likes it or not.

although his family claims this was merely just a rumor, it was often said that there was some foul play behind her death and that his father had some involvement, not wanting her to ever leave him and move on with her life. while holden deep down may admit that this could be the case, it’s never something he would really say.

at this point, his father rarely talks about his mother and when he has, he has poisoned her memory so much, holden feels like he never really had one. when he was younger, he’d often make up stories about her in his head, which were far different than who she actually was. it helped at the time, but after a while it was easier to just forget her altogether.

while his father cares deeply for his children and has provided them a life of ease and luxury, he’s certainly not innocent in all of this mess. he’s extremely manipulative and often psychologically traumatizing to them as well. he often finds his children to be lazy and ungrateful and resents the way they’ve been raised (even though it was his own doing), while he suffered from poverty and abuse in his own childhood. he often pits the two of them against each other, always trying to see who’s the stronger, smartest, who will do whatever it takes to be the best, especially because there’s always talk about who’s going to be the one to be the one who’s going to take over when he retires. it is usually said to be his older brother, because it’s no secret that he’s his father’s favorite.

because of this, holden and his brother never really got along. or so it seems. they did when they were younger, but their hatred runs so deep that the even thought of that feels like a distant reality. they’re only two years apart, but they couldn’t be more different. while his brother is a complete perfectionist and will do just about anything to please his father, holden gave up on that idea along time ago. it didn’t matter what he did, he never seemed to be able to measure up against his brother. maybe it was because he was younger, maybe it was because he was more sensitive and seemed to feel things at a deeper level, maybe it was because he wasn’t as competitive, or maybe there was no explanation why his father simply liked cal better. holden’s never seemed to figure out. he’s always felt like the screwup of the family, so eventually that’s what he became.

he started drinking and using drugs at an early age, basically trying anything to mask his pain and trauma. while his brother excelled academically and in sports in high school, holden never applied himself. he fell in with the wrong crowd and gave up his spot on the football team to run around the streets of new york and engage in all kinds of debauchery. it was common for him to disappear for days on end, spending his father’s money and racking up drug and gambling debts. obviously his father wasn’t happy about this and would constantly remind him of that, but he didn’t exactly do anything to stop him either. if this was a cry for help or attention, it didn’t exactly have the desired effect and only left holden feeling empty. 

he started dating this older hippie girl who was in college while he was a senior in high school who influenced him to want to detach from his family and money and the crowd he was running in. he kind of... took it to the extreme and started talking like timothee chalamet in lady bird lmao, even though he reeked of privilege. honestly, it was just another way to annoy his father and brother, which was always his goal at the time. they ended up breaking up because he cheated on her, but he kept some of her ideas and mindset afterwards.

after high school, he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to do. so he ran off to europe for a year and didn’t talk to anyone from home. just traveled around by himself with little money and getting into all kinds of trouble. he probably would’ve stayed longer, but one morning he came across an american newspaper while he was in greece reporting on how his father had suffered a heart attack. he rushed back to the states and luckily his father has survived, but in that moment of weakness he manipulated him into attending college. his father pulled some strings and got him into yates, and while it isn’t exactly his idea of fun, he’s taking it day by day and looking it as another way to push back actually having to enter the real world.

~ personality wise ~

acts like he hates his family, new york, and everything that comes attached with money and privilege, but completely reaps the benefits of all these things when he can. claims everything having to do with high society is vapid and that he wants more out of life.

a bit of a compulsive liar. will make up fake identities and pretend to be other people or tell people he doesn’t know some sob story about growing up poor. rlly just gets off on stuff like that and doesn’t tell the truth. like ever.

doesn’t always like people knowing how rich he is or who his father is. for those that do know, he doesn’t like to talk much about his family. probably won’t ever say a word about his mother.

has no real ambitions in life or any sort-of life plan. has switched his major at least 10 times and never goes to his classes.

very much a hedonist. likes to party and hates being alone. hooks up with too many people and finds it very difficult to be in any sort of real relationship. he’s just not reliable or faithful enough.

also goes through phases where feels like he doesn’t connect with people? or that he hates everyone?

always attracts chaos of some kind. black eyes from a fight over kissing someone’s girlfriend or owing his drug dealer money.

lives life day by day. doesn’t plan for the future. usually always drunk or high.

kind of... morally ambiguous. with the way he was raised, he doesn’t see life as black or white. it’s sort of grey. usually doesn’t do the right thing, usually doesn’t feel bad about it... but there is a heart there somewhere. he just doesn’t usually care enough to use it.

rlly tries to avoid feelings as much as possible. he’s actually quite a sensitive person, but after being constantly told that makes him weak by his father and having a robot of a brother he’s always felt ashamed by that. so he uses his vices to try and not feel things.

wanted plots

hook ups, fwbs, exes, someone he cheated on, friends, enemies, someone he owes money to, someone who knew him grew up and knows his family, someone he actually rlly cares about (romantic or platonic)...i’ll add more to this when i think of more things!

[wwounu]

“Ooh!” You exclaim, your lips spreading across your face. “This lemonade is really nice. ‘Cheol, you should try it!”

Presenting the drink, Seungcheol leans back from his chair slightly, eyes shifting back and forth to your bubbly expression and the straw nearing him. He surrenders at some point, shown through his visible sigh, as he closes the distance between the straw and him, sipping a fair amount of the drink.

His eyebrows raise, lips lingering on the drink a little longer. “Did they put honey into this?” He speaks between the straw.

Enthusiastic, you nod. “Now get your dirty lips off the straw, it’s my drink.” Seungcheol complies, slowly backing away from the drink before he steals a few more seconds of drinking, finally sat in his place when you complain. “Those five hours were worth it after all,” calm, you take in the fields and families coming to visit.

Seungcheol hums in agreement, not looking at the scenery, but rather the sight in front of him. When you turn to him, you wave a hand in front of his face.

“‘Cheol? Hello? Do you want my cake? Is that what you want?”

Not waiting for his response, you already stab your fork into your piece of cake, lifting it to the male’s face. For a few more seconds, he continues to look at you before his eyes flutter down to the dessert, a tiny smile forming as he takes a bite.

“Thanks Honey,” he chuckles to himself, his grin only growing.

“Everything alright?” You can’t help but ask, noticing the lack of conversation Seungcheol was making. “You seem tired. It’s been a long day, huh?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “Just thinking.”

With that, you could just nod. You didn’t register the sound of the chair legs scraping the ground until a low cough reached your ears, finding Seungcheol stood near you, his hand reached out.

“Let’s go somewhere, I wanna view this place one more time before we leave.”

Not skipping a beat, you take his hand in yours.

Leaving the cafe, you head to a nearby hill, a grand tree placed right in the middle, and sit as you look at the place at a different perspective.

“I’m totally moving here when I retire.” You comment, earning a laugh from Seungcheol. You twist your body to him. “Retire with me?”

“How could I not? Might as well stick to each other all our lives.”

You smile at the comment, thinking how Seungcheol couldn’t be more right. From birth, through high-school, to college; a few more decades wouldn’t be so bad.

Sleepy, you rest your cheek against Seungcheol’s arm, leaning on him. “If I asked for us two to stay here forever, would that be too much?”

“Well… We’ll have to get through a couple of things first, but we could make it work.” He feels the smile on your face shaping itself, his hand holding your head gently, fingers playing with your hair.

The breeze flows past the two of you, distant voices from the remaining people visiting getting lost into the wind.

“Honey,”

Your head tilts toward the soft call. Seungcheol was looking at you too, yourself noticing the raw emotion on his face, no wall built in front of it or facade that’s kept.

You catch the slight hitch in his voice, slowly smiling into the thought.

And somehow, you couldn’t help but meet the distance between you.

In the moment, your thoughts began to flood horribly, panic struck within you — maybe Seungcheol didn’t have feelings anymore, or he found someone else in the time frame you were gone, the action was too sudden, too rushed, for god’s sake you didn’t even ask for permission.

He doesn’t feel the same, you dwell, realising how much you have to make up for that awkward moment.

Pulling away, your lips move to spill out your attempt at an apology until you’re pulled back in for another kiss.

A kiss that’s waited years to happen — no lust or mindless meaning — cared with feelings that should’ve unravelled themselves years ago, like a ball of yarn rolling down a staircase, its trail blooming memories and moments where love showed itself, whether it be a playful I love you to sharing an umbrella on a rainy day.

Shy, the love remained subtle; child-like, more like. Feeling Seungcheol smile in between felt like a flower coming alive in spring, exploding in colour. A hand reaches to your cheek, holding up your chin as you and Seungcheol part.

All you could do was smile. There were no words to describe how you felt; none were needed.

Because one glance upon Seungcheol already told you, this time, you’ll finally get that happily ever after.

OPPOSITES ATTRACT PART FOURTEEN — Hopeless Romantic!Seungcheol x Hopeful Romantic!Reader

I was surprised how creatively I went for the kiss O.o i also had the chance to use happy ending at the end but thats what you all thought FOOLS (you arent fools im sorry ily)

one • two • three • four • five • five ½ • six • seven • eight • nine • nine ½ • ten • eleven • eleven ¼ • eleven ¾ • twelve • thirteen • fourteen • fifteen

masterlist

[yoon-kooks]

Witch Hazel- Pt.4

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: FanficWriter!Jungkook, Idol!Reader, College!AU, Angst, Fluff

Summary: There are two students in your art class with a secret: you and the quiet Jeon Jungkook. You’re a problematic idol singer, infamous for your ice cold reputation and perpetual resting bitch face; he’s the artist and author behind the viral comic series based on a certain ice queen idol. After a blowup of destructive rumors, lost motivation and inevitable solitude, you stumble upon Jungkook’s comic and find a new and unexpected light.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: none

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // ?

A/N: my hope is that the idol industry can one day become a safer place for those who have dedicated their lives to making others happy ❤️

-

“Let me guess, you’re the type who needs to feel needed but also pushes people away?”

“How would you know that, Bunny Boy?”

“It’s my power.”

“You have powers too?” Snow blinks her pretty blue eyes. “Can you read minds?”

“I certainly can’t read minds,” Bunny Boy laughs. “But I am pretty good at reading hearts.”

“Oh yeah? What’s my heart feeling right now?”

“Well for starters, you seem to be annoyed by me prying too deep.”

“You are annoying.”

“And you also think I’m kinda cute.”

“I do not!”

You giggle into your phone screen for the hundredth time as you read through the latest Witch Hazel update. With the reveal of another character with secret powers, you wonder what Snow will make out of him. A friend? An ally? Or perhaps just someone who gets her.

Beneath the last comic panel of Snow rolling her eyes at the unofficially named Bunny Boy, you find cute little comments from the author.

“all i hope is for snow to take care of herself during this hiatus”

“even if it’s only a tiny amount, maybe witch hazel can help supplement as new snow content for now;;;;;;”

“ah i didnt mean to sound as if i were anywhere near snow’s level or anything;;;;;;”

“i just hope she knows she doesnt have to carry any burden all on her own”

“she has people on her side”

Your face doesn’t know whether to smile or shed tears, so you do a combination of both. It’s true, you’ve always felt alone. Always. No matter how many staff members it takes to produce an album or how many fans buy that album, you’ve never once felt that people could look beyond your idol music, your icy eyes, your mask.

But that’s exactly why you’re taking a break. You need to separate your worth from the music attached to your name. You need to prove to yourself that you’re more than what the critics and magazines say. And you’re only realizing it now that you can’t do it alone.

If only you had your own jk.seagull in your life. You’re sure the two of you would mesh well together.

-

“Where is that kid?” Taehyung pats the empty seat next to him before class starts. “He never skips class. I remember one time he literally rejected a date with a super cute girl because he ‘had to get to class’. Can you believe that?”

“Knowing Jungkook, I’d believe it,” you shrug. It does feel oddly empty without his presence, though.

“Oh really? You know all there is to know about the mysterious phenomenon that is Jeon Jungkook? It sounds like you guys got real acquainted on that date the other day.”

“It wasn’t a date, Taehyung. It was a meeting for a group project that you didn’t show up to.”

“Well it all evens out since Jungkook didn't show up today. Who knows, maybe you won’t show up tomorrow.”

“I’m sure he has a good reason for being absent. Unlike you.” You have to admit, it does worry you a little. Especially after the hints of doubt Jungkook expressed about his own beautiful art. You wish he knew how amazing of an artist he really is.

“What are you talking about? My reason was valid.”

“Having your cock sucked for five hours straight is not a valid reason, by the way.” You roll your eyes. “Let me guess, today you have a threesome scheduled after class and dinner date at 5?”

“Ouch, you don’t have to be so harsh, Y/N.” Taehyung pretends to be offended, but he doesn’t deny your comment either. “You’re really his type, you know.”

“I’m whose type?”

“Jungkook’s.”

“Where is this coming from all of a sudden?”

“I’ve said this before, but you’re a lot like Snow.”

“How?”

“In how you present yourself,” Taehyung says. “You and her both come across as cold and heartless, but somehow I don’t buy it.” He doesn’t buy what? That you’re just as much of a bitch on the inside too? Ha.

“Jungkook must have weird taste then,” you shrug. Because in your opinion, you’re not exactly an easy person to love.

“But-” Taehyung is cut off by the professor starting class. You don’t know what more he could’ve said to make you change your mind anyway.

“There won’t be any lecture for today’s class.” Your professor is busy typing away at her computer, perhaps trying to get caught up on paperwork and grading old assignments. “Instead, I want you all to take this time to work on your group projects. You may leave the classroom if you must, but remember to stay on task!”

With that, your classmates jam out of the room as if they were just freed from prison. You hear a couple of friends deciding which boba place to try out. Another group, the overachievers of the class, head somewhere outside to actually work on the project. Taehyung, too, looks as if there’s somewhere else he needs to be.

“So I-”

“Go ahead and get laid,” you sigh, shooing the boy away with your hand. “We’ll work next time when all three of us are here.”

“Thanks, Y/N! You get me,” Taehyung waves bye before dashing off.

You wave back as the hall clears out around you. It seems everyone else has found somewhere to go. Everyone except you.

But it’s fine. You’re fine.

Buzz! You jump at the sudden phone notification that seems to echo off the walls of the empty hall. Oh look, it’s a text from your only friend.

10:32AM jinnie❤️ “good morning ^O^// just checking in on you”

10:33AM jinnie❤️ “how are you holding up with everything?”

“I’m fine!” you mumble rather aggressively to yourself, sliding your ass down onto the filthy hallway floor before texting back. Your chunky guitar case sits in your lap like a baby so it doesn’t get dirty.

10:34AM Y/N “i miss seeing you at work everyday :((((”

10:34AM Y/N “lololololol jk”

10:35AM Y/N “fuck work, am i right”

10:36AM jinnie❤️ “Y/N”

10:37AM Y/N “😒”

10:37AM Y/N “im fine”

10:38AM jinnie❤️ “thats exactly what people say when theyre not fine”

But you are fine. You’re completely fine with sitting all alone in an empty hallway, texting your only friend who also happens to be your manager.

10:39AM jinnie❤️ “what are you doing now?”

You pick up your guitar and start walking away. Obviously, you can’t tell him what you were actually doing because it would worry him too much. But you can’t lie to him either.

10:41AM Y/N “if you really must know”

You wait until you arrive at your new location before answering Seokjin’s million-dollar question. You’ve found your place.

10:45AM Y/N “im practicing in the music room before my theory class starts”

He sends you the Surprised Pikachu meme but also a few supportive comments.

10:46AM jinnie❤️ “good luck!”

10:46AM jinnie❤️ “and if you ever need something, please reach out to me!”

10:47AM jinnie❤️ “ill be checking in on you every now and then, but please enjoy your time off~”

10:48AM Y/N “thank you seokjin”

With your manager off your back, you settle into the empty music classroom and pull your trusty guitar out of its case. The flat and out of tune strings remind you of how long it’s been since the last time you touched the guitar. Because despite carrying it around wherever you go, it’s all for show.

In all honesty, you’re too afraid to let others hear, and yet, part of you wants them to know. You want them to know you’re an artist in your own right—without the judgment. But that’s asking for too much from this cruel world. Especially when you know you aren’t there yet.

One by one, you turn the pegs on your guitar, fine tuning each string by ear. That’s always been your secret talent, and maybe that’s how you’ve never been off-key since the moment you said your first words. If there was one thing you had going for you as an idol, it was that.

Once all the strings are tuned, you just sit there, staring at your fingers curved naturally in the C chord position. The muscle memory is still very much ingrained in you, but so are the scars. The last time you actually held your guitar, you were told you weren’t good enough. So you ended up settling for something else.

Today, however, you want to change that. You shouldn’t let several people’s opinions determine what you can or can’t amount to just because they were the professionals of the industry who supposedly “knew” what they were doing. They didn’t know you then, and they certainly don’t know you now. They don’t even know your real name.

But that’s okay. Having a secret identity makes you feel as though you can someday become a true superhero, someone who makes the world a better place from behind the scenes. In that sense, you want to be someone like your current favorite person on the internet, jk.seagull. You don’t know him, nor do you know his real name.

All you know is that his craft makes you happy.

With the funny fanfic boy in mind, you glance up to make sure the coast is clear before taking your first strum. Despite the dullness of your old worn-out strings, what your ears hear is crisp and bright.

-

You aren’t sure how much time has passed since you began singing along to a melody only you know, but you’re suddenly pulled back into reality with a single mention of her from outside the classroom.

“What do you think about the Snow news?”

“It’s honestly sad.”

“With how little she contributes to her music, I really don’t think she deserves a break.”

“She should just keep going. How hard is it to sing a few songs? I hope she knows she’s letting a lot of people down just so she could relax.”

“Or better yet, she should just retire early.”

You set down your guitar on the piano bench. You’ve heard quite enough and you’re ready to slam the door on the noisy group passing by. But by the time you peek your head out from the crack, the group is already at the other end of the hall. You do, however, find a surprise sitting right outside the music room.

The boy who was supposedly too sick to come to class is too busy sketching away to notice you staring at him.

“How long have you been sitting out here?”

The tiny hairs on the back of the boy’s neck stand up as his drawing hand freezes at the sound of your voice. He turns around, looking up at you as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.

“Since I started sketching.” Jungkook shows you a simple yet pretty drawing of a flowery spring field. By his art standards, it couldn’t have taken him long to draw that one page.

But it isn’t until you start flipping through the rest of the pages in the sketchbook that you realize he’d been sitting there for quite a while. Each page is similar to the last with only slight differences in between. When you fly through the pages like a flipbook, you see the whole picture.

From the first sketch of spring flowers, snow slowly covers the field until only a single flower remains in a winter wonderland. If you go in reverse, you can watch as the snow melts away until that one flower disappears amongst its brethren.

“What kind of flower is that?” You point to the one that somehow managed to blossom through the thickness of the snow. Maybe if it were colored in, you’d have a better idea.

“A strong one?” Jungkook shrugs as if he’s not the artist who knows the the answer. You hate yourself for cackling along at his lousy joke. He closes his sketchbook as a way to change the subject. “Why aren’t you in class?”

“Funny you should ask. The professor dismissed our class to work on the group projects. And then Tae ditched to go do his usual skirt-chasing shenanigans because somebody in our group didn’t show up.”

“Sorry,” the boy bites his lower lip with a hint of regret. “I didn’t really feel well enough to sit in class today.”

“Then why didn’t you just stay at home?”

“I still had this project to turn in and finish for my other class.” He raises his sketchbook. “And besides, music is the best medicine.”

You feel your cheeks burning up. The last person you expected to catch you messing around with your guitar in the music department was the art student who was supposed to be out sick. “How much did you hear…?”

“All I heard was one song…” He assures you for a slight second before going in for the kill, “…that you kept replaying over and over and over-”

“I get it. You heard a lot,” you hiss. “You better not tell anyone! Not even Tae.”

“I won’t,” he promises, chuckling at your distress. It seems the kid’s gotten comfortable enough around you to start clowning you. “It’s a nice song, by the way.”

“Really?” You want to believe him, but you have a hard time doing so. When all you’ve heard was brutal criticism for the past few years, it’s difficult to accept any compliment without feeling like there’s ill intent behind it. It feels wrong to feel good about yourself.

Besides, maybe he’s just complimenting you out of obligation. Like he’s trying to be nice, even if he doesn’t actually feel that way about your song.

“I’ll burden the pain so you don’t have to,” he says.

“What?”

“That’s a line from the lyrics, right?”

You nod.

“It’s a very Y/N thing to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jungkook shrugs and swirls his Sailor Venus keychain around his index finger. “Just take it as a compliment, Y/N.”

If not for his soft teasing smile, your mind would still be filled with doubt. Instead, you accept the compliment and gain a tiny bit of confidence back.

“Come in for a second,” you start walking back inside the music room. “And close the door behind you.”

Jungkook does as he’s told, his eyes glued to your guitar as you pick it up off the piano bench. There, you do something you’ve never practiced but had always hoped to perform as Snow—your own acoustic version of one of your songs.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve never practiced or touched your guitar in years. You know the key, the chords, the strum pattern. And you know how to make it your own. Not Snow’s or anyone else’s.

When you’re done with your mini acoustic performance, the boy can’t help but chuckle. He’s about to clown you again. You can feel it.

“What??”

“It’s nothing.”

“Jungkook.”

“It’s seems like you don’t hate Snow as much as you lead on.”

“I was only trying to show how I would’ve done the song if I were her.”

“Ah, so you criticize Snow so much because you think you can do better?”

“Not necessarily better… just differently.” You hope that answer is enough to satisfy the boy. But it’s not. He only nods with an awfully suspicious smirk. “What now??”

“It’s cool that you want to be a songwriter.”

“I never said that I did,” you say with a slight pout and hmph. You’ve never once mentioned your true dreams to anyone besides maybe some random kid at camp when you were ten. You’d hate to announce your bold aspirations with the utmost confidence, only to flop and fail before achieving anything. You’d rather keep it a secret until you perhaps “pop-off” as the kids say.

“Sure.” He doesn’t believe you.

“Are you always this sassy when you’re sick?”

His long locks flow as he shakes his head. “I’m feeling better now, actually. Thanks to your medicine.”

Maybe the kid was faking his sickness all along. Then again, Taehyung did say Jungkook wasn’t the type to skip class under most circumstances. Perhaps there was something else that was bothering him.

“Wait, you weren’t upset about Snow’s hiatus, right?” You remember the gossip from the noisy group that had passed by earlier. The beating you took from their words still stings.

“To be honest, I was worried about her at first with everything that went on,” Jungkook says. “But I think she probably just needed some time away from all that.”

“Probably,” is all you say, doing your best to downplay the amount of relief his words gave you. He isn’t upset or let down; he just wishes the best for your well-being. And as an idol, that’s all you’ve ever asked for. “You know, you’re the nicest Snow fan I’ve ever met.”

“You know a lot of other Snow fans?” Jungkook tilts his head at your odd statement. Oh right. You’ve only really met other fans as Snow, not as Y/N. Now you sound suspicious.

“Oh yeah, for sure. My friend, Seokjin, reads Snow smut all the time,” you force out a laugh while making a mental apology to your manager. Then you decide it’s best to change the subject before you blow your cover. “Speaking of fanfiction, I need your opinion on Witch Hazel!”

“What about it?”

“The new bunny character.” You whip out your phone for direct reference of the comic. “He’s funny, right?”

“He’s good at teasing Snow,” Jungkook looks at your phone screen of the bunny saying that Snow thinks he’s cute. “I wonder if he’ll make her fall for him.”

“I want him to.” Your eyes light up without knowing. To have Snow fall in love is wishful thinking, but a large part of you craves romance deep down—even if it’s only for the fictional version of yourself. “But at the same time, he’s not Snow’s type.”

“What’s Snow’s type?”

“Huh?” You somehow managed to fuck up again, so you shrink yourself and hope to disappear. “I don’t know… Why would I know what Snow’s type is…? It’s probably not a playboy like the bunny, but I wouldn’t know that…!”

“So you think she’d like someone more… considerate?”

You nod. “Probably just someone who takes the time to get to know her.”

“I guess we’ll see in the upcoming chapters.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” You can’t quite hold back a smile. After all, your day always feels a lot better when it involves your favorite little comic.

Jungkook must’ve noticed your face because he makes a comment. “I am curious, though, as to why you like Witch Hazel so much when you clearly don’t care for Snow herself.”

“For me, it has nothing to do with Snow.” To mask your smile, you make a cute duck face instead. “Reading it just… makes me happy.” As much as you’d hate to admit it, it’s been a long time since anything has given you good vibes the way that one comic does.

“That’s good,” the boy says, gathering his things to head to his next class. “It’s the same for me with Snow’s music… in case you were wondering.” And with that, he leaves you with something to think about.

If Snow’s music is Jungkook’s medicine, Witch Hazel is yours.

-

By the time you get home from school, you’re still smiling like an idiot after what Jungkook had said. Snow’s music makes him happy, and the mere thought of that makes you happy. It’s in (very rare) times like this that you remember why you chose to become an idol in the first place. It’s why you endure the pain.

With your mind clouded in an unfamiliar wave of emotion, you pull out your phone and tap on Jungkook’s contact information. After changing his contact name to something cuter, you start composing a casual message just to say hi.

Jungkook. What if I told you a secret?

Delete. You’ve never deleted a message so quick. You don’t even know which secret you would’ve told the boy. That you’re his crush, Snow? Or that he’s yours? Not that you have a huge crush on him… You swear it’s just a tiny one!

Regardless, you shouldn’t be sharing any of your deepest secrets with him—at least not for now. It’s not that you don’t trust him. It’s just that it’s a tricky situation to be in.

Your eyes move from your guitar, to the stacks of handwritten sheet music beside it, to the album that won you your first award—where the pain all began. Even the most supportive fan could not imagine what you’ve given up to be the idol that you are, to be someone with a name.

The only thing you can do now is take it all back. And only then will you let Jungkook in. But until that time comes, you don’t belong to him or anyone else.

4:44PM Snow “Are you free to talk?”

4:46PM Jimin “Yeah”

[skyfirewolf]

Edward Stevens: facts

After the suicide of his uncle and guardian Peter Lytton, James Hamilton went off to train with an elderly carpenter and his younger brother, Alexander Hamilton, was whisked off to the King Street home of Thomas Stevens, a well-respected merchant and his wife, Ann. Of the five children born to the married couple, Edward born a year before Alexander became his closest friend, "an intimate acquaintance begun in early youth," as Hamilton described their relationship. As they both matured, the often seemed to display parallel personalities: both were quick and clever, disciplined and persevering, fluent in French, versed in classical history, held the same morals and were interested in medicine. In later years, Edward reminded Alexander of "those vows of eternal friendship, which we have so often mutually exchanged," he often fretted about his friend's delicate health.

Their physical appearance was close. Thirty years later, when Timothy Pickering, then secretary of state, first set eyes on Edward Stevens, he was torn by their resemblance. "At first glance, I was struck with the extraordinary similitude of his and General Hamilton's faces–I thought they must be brothers." Pickering confided with shock to Edward's brother-in-law, James Yard of St. Croix only to be told that this remark was said many times before. Pickering even concluded to himself that they were in fact brothers and Hamilton was an illegitimate child of "Stevens".

Edward Stevens also went to Kings College and years before Hamilton. November 11th, 1769 is Hamilton's oldest letter surviving in his pen–the recipient was Stevens. Arriving in New York 1773, the only person he knew was Stevens. In his first months at King's, he and a friend, Robert Troup, formed a club that gathered weekly to hone debating, writing and speaking skills. Stevens was one of the members.

While married to Elizabeth Schuyler, Edward Stevens became "the guardian angel" of the household and he appeared at providential moments and tended to Eliza reassuring her she was in no danger at times of illness. During the yellow fever epidemic in 1793, Edward Seven turned up Philadelphia and attended to both Alexander and Eliza when they both contracted the disease. He treated with bark, wine, and cold baths, a regimen that stirred some controversy since Stevens scorned the bloodletting treatment advocated by most doctors including Rush. Upon his recovery, Hamilton became an advocate for Stevens's method.

(Text above is credited to sonofhistory)

- He cured Eliza and Alexander of the fever within five days

- Stevens graduated from King's College in 1774 and then sailed to Britain to study Medicine at the University of Edinburgh

- He gained his doctorate (M.D.) on September 12, 1777

- Stevens' dissertation on gastric digestion was entitled "De alimentorum concoction"

- Based on this work, he was the first researcher to isolate human gastric juices

- His work confirmed that of René Antoine Ferchault de Réaumur, who showed the digestive power of gastric juices, and helped dispel earlier theories of digestion

- Stevens's work on digestion would influence Lazzaro Spallanzani

- On January 20, 1776, Stevens was admitted to the university's Royal Medical Society

- He served as the Society's president for the academic year 1779/1780. Stevens remained in Edinburgh until 1783 and was one of the joint founders of the Royal Society of Edinburgh in that year

- Stevens returned to St. Croix in 1783. He worked there as a physician for ten years

- He maintained his friendship with Hamilton through correspondence

- In adulthood, Hamilton tended to shun his turbulent adolescence, and Stevens was the only person from his childhood, including even his closest living family members, with whom he kept in regular contact

- Following the death of his wife, Eleanora, in 1792, Stevens decided to move to North America

- Stevens had considered a move to Guyana, but William Thornton urged him to choose the United States

- Also in 1792, Stevens married Hester Kortright Amory. Stevens ended his ten years of practicing medicine in the Caribbean and moved to Philadelphia in 1793

- (A/N" so he was widowed one year and married that same year, good job Ned)

- While in Philadelphia, he engaged in a controversy with Benjamin Rush on methods for treating an outbreak of yellow fever

- Stevens was admitted to the American Philosophical Society on April 18, 1794. Stevens's work in digestion may have influenced other researchers in Philadelphia, notably John Richardson Young

- In 1795, Stevens was appointed as a professor at King's College

- Stevens served as the United States consul-general in Saint-Domingue (later Haiti) from 1799 to 1800

- Stevens's title, "consul", suggested a diplomat attached to a country not a colony, reflecting the administrations view of the Haitian situation

- Following his arrival in Haiti in April 1799, Stevens succeeded in accomplishing several of his objectives, including: the suppression of privateers operating out of the colony, protections for American lives and property, and right of entry for American vessels

- Stevens pushed for similar privileges for the British, who, like the United States, were engaged in war with France

- Negotiations between Haiti and Britain were difficult given Haiti's fears of Britain's desire to take control of the colony, and Britain's fears of the Haitian slave revolt spreading to its own Caribbean colonies. In fact, Stevens had to serve as the British agent for a time since Haitian troops feared having a British official in the colony

- Little is known of Stevens's last years. For two and a half months in 1809-10, during the British occupation of the Danish West Indies, Stevens served as President of St. Croix. He corresponded with David Hosack, including a letter introducing his son in 1823

- He outlived Hamilton by thirty years

- He also referred to Hamilton as "My Dr. Ham"

- Meanwhile, Hamilton called Edward "Ned" and "Neddy" and often reffered to him as his "particular friend"

- "Throughout the remainder of 1803 Stevens attended the American Philosophical Society regularly. He is recorded as being present on October 7, October 21, November 4, November 18. In 1804 he attended on February 17 and February 24. A minute on August 17 of that year is confusing. Apparently he donated two volumes of books, but the precise readings of the Minutes is unclear. The description is "Steven's Wars. 2 Vols". Thereafter Stevens never attended again. It will be recalled that in 1804 Alexander Hamilton died in a duel with Burr, and possible then, or later Stevens retired to St Croix. David Hossack wrote to him in St. Croix in a letter dated September 20th, 1809, from New York, so by that year, certainly, Stevens had left the United States."

— Edward Stevens: Gastric physiologist, physician and American statesman

(Ned must have been significantly distressed by Hamilton's death and perhaps even moved back to St Croix because of this)

Some letters between Ned and Alexander:

"I have written you so repeatedly since my Arrival in Scotland, without having ever received an Answer... I am perfectly at a Loss I assure you, my Dr: Hamilton, to account for your Silence. I have written you frequently, and, as I know that you was at a Distance from New York, enclosed your Letters to some of our common Friends in that City, and requested them to transmit them to you. But I have not been able to collect the least Intelligence concerning you from any Quarter..."

—To Alexander Hamilton from Edward Stevens, 23 December 1777

"Who could have imagined my friend that a man of your greatness, of your delicacy of constitution, and of your tranquility, would have shone so much, and in a short space of time, in the Champ de Mars, that you did it? I assure you, my Colonel, that I have tormented myself a great deal about your health, which has always been very dear to me since the beginning of our acquaintance. I do not know how you can sustain the hardships and fatigues of a winter campaign in America. Surely your constitution would never have sustained such severity without the assistance of something very extraordinary."

— To Alexander Hamilton from Edward Stevens, 1778

"Dear Edward

This just serves to acknowledge receipt of yoursper Cap Lowndeswhich was delivered me Yesterday. The truth of Cap Lightbourn & Lowndes information is now verifyd by the Presence of your Father and Sister for whose safe arrival I Pray, and that they may convey that Satisfaction to your Soul that must naturally flow from the sight of Absent Friends in health, and shall for news this way refer you to them. As to what you say respecting your having soon the happiness of seeing us all, I wish, for an accomplishment of your hopes provided they are Concomitant with your welfare, otherwise not, tho doubt whether I shall be Present or not for to confess my weakness, Ned, my Ambition is prevalent that I contemn the grov'ling and condition of a Clerk or the like, to which my Fortune &c. condemns me and would willingly risk my life tho' not my Character to exalt my Station. Im confident, Ned that my Youth excludes me from any hopes of immediate Preferment nor do I desire it, but I mean to prepare the way for futurity. Im no Philosopher you see and may be jusly said to Build Castles in the Air. My Folly makes me ashamd and beg youll Conceal it, yet Neddy we have seen such Schemes successfull when the Projector is Constant I shall Conclude saying I wish there was a War.

. . .

PS I this moment receivd yoursby William Smith and am pleasd to see you Give such Close Application to Study."

- Alexander Hamilton to Edward Stevens, St Croix, November 11th, 1769

(Alex, hon, GET YOUR GRAMMAR TOGETHER MY BOY)

[ofgoldenboys]

it’s leila/guppy again, i’m still 18 and still in the mountain standard timezone! as i said in ms. stacy’s intro post, please im me or discord me and i’d be happy to talk about myself, my characters, or my cats (but mostly my characters). okay, let’s learn about tejay my lil politician!

i. ｢ some info about him ｣

okay, so first of all, tejay is actually born and raised in boston but his family would come to wellcliff in the summer and stay in a vacation house!

his parents are both from london, and the parekh family actually has a pretty big import/export business that runs globally. tejay’s parents weren’t the only ones in on this, it’s been in the family for generations from before the time india was under colonization by the brits, and continued after the parekh family mostly immigrated to the u.k. (parekh is a gujarati family name that pertains to the merchant/noble caste of the caste system, and the name itself means ‘assayer’).

the family business was really booming, and tejay’s parents moved from london to boston to continue to grow the business’s influence in the united states. tejay’s grandparents (paternal) tagged along. shortly after the move, (death tw coming up) tejay’s grandfather passed away due to natural causes.

tejay was born so rich he could have anything he ever wanted, and he did all the way until elementary school (death tw coming up). unfortunately, his parents were going on a roadtrip for an anniversary and were tragically killed in a weather-related car accident.

at this point, tejay and his grandmother were the only remaining parekh’s, and some cousins back in london took over the whole business leaving tejay and his grandma out of the family fortune.

they moved permanently to wellcliff without the funds/savings to keep paying the mortgage in boston (especially since his grandma was really making things work of retirement funds and savings).

tejay used to get into fights at school from a really young age, and was always acting out as a means of dealing with his pain. he ends up being pushed by his grandma to join competitive sports (basketball) and the debate team instead to keep him in a different kind of fight.

on weekends, she would keep him in to listen to vinyls and watch bollywood films. he loves music from the 1950s and 1960s because of his grandma lol.

in high school he became popular, politician-like asshole. we all know ‘em - student body president, debate team captain, member of the basketball team, secretary of nhs. he was in all the academic activities and also he was getting all the girls with his winning smile and popularity.

he grew up, and was able to tap into a college fund that enabled him to attend harvard through law school. yes... he was a poli-sci major, yuck.

came back to wellcliff and now works under the mayor as the city manager. his life is one long episode of parks and recreation and he is always flashing a good politician smile in case the cameras are watching.

he actually gets really good press throughout wellcliff and likes his job, but what he really wants is to get his grandma and him back up to the point where they’re highly regarded and rolling in the dough.

he hates the smell of gasoline with a passion, loves the ocean dearly, and has a record player that’s been in his family for generations!

ii. ｢ possible connections ｣

i really want some folks who attend his town halls or disagree with his politics and really drive it home to him. like “sir, i do not agree with your intention to replace the water fountains in the park with hydration stations”

would love some old high school buddies who were a part of the many clubs he was a part of!

friends who see through his bullshit and who he cuts loose with, his doesn’t even wear ties around them :0

the exes and ohs haunt him, i think... i can see him leaving a trail of broken hearts for sure.

uhhhhhhhhhh.... my brain hurts... we can talk more about other connections! and also potential chemistry checks! heehee

[theramseyloft]

hey there, found your blog through a friend. ive been scanning your blog and patreon, and i felt like reaching out because, well... you're basically living my dream life, haha. i would love to do work like you do, rehabbing birds and training them, especially as companions/aids for disabled folks. pretty amazing! do you mind if i ask how you got started? is it an expensive venture? do you own farmland or live in a suburban area? im gonna send this before i take up too much of your time, haha. :)

I have raised ALL kinds of animals, but it was rats that lead me to pigeons.

I’ve had fish, herps, and inverts most of my life, so the way rats, mice, and Gerbils were able to bond with me felt really special.

Rats being the most intelligent and cooperatively social

When I had to stop raising small mammals, I wanted a pet that would similarly enjoy handling. Like, be happy/excited to see me when I got home, more than just wanting out.

Warm blooded, but non mammalian left birds.

Psitticines are wild animals that have needs WAY beyond our capability to meet, so they are all firmly on the no list.

I enjoyed Zebra finches, but my husband and I are sound sensitive, and he finds their song physically painful.

We can’t have chickens where we live...

Ringneck Doves ticked all the boxes for what I needed in a companion bird:

Docile/tractable Small/easy to house Easy to feed Physically incapable of biting or making painfully high pitched noises.

Turns out I was wrong about that last one! That’s pigeons. XD

We learned this with our first ringneck: An ANCIENT rescue and his wife named Nigel.

What a story those birds had!

My dear hubby was dubious about letting me raise another species, but after some shared research, was ok with me fostering some unwanted ones and finding them a new home.

I found them on Craig’s list, with cage and all.

When we went to pick them up, their owners explained that they had been unwanted, but traditional wedding gifts they felt they couldn’t refuse.

Ten years later, their owners had long ago gotten tired of caring for them, and just wanted them gone.

Their parents had purchased the pair when they retired from a magic show, and had had them as long as the couple could remember.

Having since sold white ringneck doves to magicians, I’ve learned that a trained dove retires between five and ten years of age, depending on temperament.

The parents were reported to have owned them for 15-20 years.

And the owners we picked them up from had had them for ten.

Making this pair of white Ringneck doves at LEAST 30 years old.

After this history, the wife brought them for us to take.

They were in a filthy black finch cage that had been left on their owner’s back porch long enough for a colony of fire ants to bring their own dirt and build a camp-nest in the bottom.

The birds were actively being swarmed and stung.

It took me a full thirty minutes to pull all of them off the two ancient doves...

It was touch and go for a bit, but they pulled through, and we found a home for the hen.

The cock, Nigel, had a twisted beak and the WORST coo!

High pitched and severely nasal, it could bore into your brain through ear plugs. >v<

He LOVED us, though, and liked to sing us the song of his people! At random. On Mike’s shoulder, directly into his ear.  All hours of the night. During the day, up where we couldn’t reach him. Even through trying to shoo him off his favorite perch...

He had SO much personality, and even though his song caused both of us severe physical pain and prevented us from sleeping, we could not help growing to dearly love him back.

Mere weeks after my Dear Hubby decided he wanted Nigel to spend the rest of his life with us, his time ran out.

He passed very suddenly, in our arms.

We mourned him. Lamented having so little time.

And we considered where to go from there.

We decided to find a breeder, so we could get little peeps and have the maximum amount of time with what felt like the perfect pet for us.

I had no idea they could be parent raised and still be tame, so I raised that first pair like I had my Zebra finches in College.

We took them home just feathered enough to keep warm and fed them formula.

Gordon and Sasami were those babies.

And they were such a delight, we wanted nothing more than to share with the world how wonderful hand raised dove could be.

So I got the Dear hubby’s permission to seek out more breeding pair.

Between what I could buy and what I could raise, we ended up with 8, and then eventually 16 pair.

There was not much knowledge about keeping them as house pets, or their behavior, beyond what it took to get them to reproduce.

It was common at the time, and still is, to treat Ringneck Doves like small pigeons: Keeping them in large decorative flocks in an out door pen.

It was only through raising the young of my 16 pairs and letting them grow out free flying in the middle room of my home that I learned that these long since domesticated birds could be tamed through socialization from a young age, like a puppy. 

But more importantly; just how vehemently anti-social they are!

One or two Ringneck Doves can be perfectly happy in an enclosure, but there should NEVER be more than two in any space where they can make physical contact!!!

They are VICIOUSLY territorial!

Every pair NEEDS to be an an individual enclosure, with ABSOLUTELY no way to make physical contact with any other bird, including and especially their own weanlings!

The second even their own peeps are fully self feeding, the parents start to mercilessly attack them, hell bent of driving out what they now see as an intruder invading their space and stealing their food and food from their future babies at any cost, up to and including killing them!

The actual Bird of Peace is the Rock Dove: the wild ancestor of the domestic Pigeon.

Two years after I started breeding doves, I started showing them. You can really only show doves in their own section of pigeon shows, and after seeing all the beautiful variation in pigeons, I was smitten. 

I brought home my first pigeon egg from my second show: a Portuguese tumbler hen laid it in her show cage, and I was shocked to find that breeders usually just threw those away.

Pugsly was hatched by a pair of doves, and he was amazing.

Friendly, outgoing to the point of being obnoxious, adorably, delightfully funny.

SO much more personable than the doves!

At another show, I picked up some Classic Old Frills.

Them some Old German Owls a year later.

Then some Old dutch Capuchine.

The more breeds I worked with, the more fascinated I became with the differences in the temperaments of different breeds, and the more I found I enjoyed working with the pigeons.

I knew we had used pigeons for lots of interesting studies.

Like this one about the development of heart disease!

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2006/07/060729133950.htm

This one, using training tosses of urban homing pigeons wearing special back packs to monitor lead pollution

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/07/160719144733.htm

But these using their natural pattern recognition as a diagnostic tool for human diseases:

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/pigeons-can-spot-breast-cancer-medical-images-180957323/?utm_source=facebook.com&no-ist

https://www.audubon.org/news/how-common-street-bird-could-coach-doctors-against-bad-diagnosis

Led me to finding this article.

https://www.audubon.org/news/the-origins-our-misguided-hatred-pigeons

And it hit me like a ton of bricks: 

Pigeons are not native to North America.

European settlers and immigrants brought them.

They had already been domesticated for thousands of years by then.

There is no such thing as a Wild pigeon in North America.

They are the avian equivalent of the street dog problem in Mexico: 

Generations of domesticated animals entirely dependent on human hand outs or left overs for survival, with no shelters to take them in or sterilization programs to prevent more unwanted individuals from being born into a hostile environment that can’t support their numbers.

As long as I have bred any species of animal, I have been active in rescue, rehabilitation, fostering, and finding homes for unwanted individuals of that species.

For me, the two just go hand in hand.

I started volunteering for the local wildlife rehab as soon as I started breeding, initially using my domestic doves (that will raise absolutely anything) to foster orphaned Mourning and Eursadian Collared Doves: hoping to prevent them from bonding to me so that they could be soft released.

When it became known that I raised pigeons, I started getting calls for them too.

Ankhou was the first that needed really hands on care.

He arrived with a baby Mourning dove.

He and it were both recent orphans. 

The wild native dove baby is well muscled, and the appropriate size for its age.

Ankhou, at 4 weeks old, should have looked like Pippin:

You can pretty accurately compare the difference between rehabbing a Mourning Dove and a Pigeon with the difference between rehabbing a grey fox kit and a stray puppy.

Like a grey fox, the Mourning dove is a native wild animal. It is absolutely vital to keep direct human interaction to the absolute minimum because developing a dependence on and friendliness towards humans will get them killed.

Either immediately and out right by hunters, or more slowly through malnutrition.

Puppies are not expected to survive in the wild, and absolutely NO rescuer would raise a puppy they found behind a garbage can or in a dumpster to weaning and nurse it to health only to dump it right back in the ally.

So I absolutely REFUSE to abandon a rescued pigeon by dumping it right back on the street it barely escaped from with its life and it honestly sickens me how many pigeon rescues advocate doing exactly that to any pigeon that doesn’t look purebred or fancy enough.

Feral Pigeons not being wild animals, and being an INTENSELY social and touch oriented species, it would not only not have been beneficial, but out right cruel not to interact with tiny, emaciated Ankhou.

Ankhou was going to take a VERY long time to catch up on enough of his development to safely find a home, so we ended up adopting instead of fostering him.

I spent a lot of time holding and talking to him, and he bonded so closely to me that the became sensitive to my anxiety attacks and started alerting for them.

He also started responding appropriately to requests, as if he actually understood them.

He had pretty severe separation anxiety, and if I stepped into the quarantine room to deal with a bird that might be ill, he would panic the moment his line of sight was interrupted.

If, however, I took the time to tell him “Ankhou, I need to go into quarantine. I will be back. Wait here.”, he would sit down in front of the door and wait quietly until I came back out with sterile hands.

This got me curious, and I started researching pigeon social and cognitive development.

As it turns out, they have a shockingly human society.

A pigeon flock is a large, extended family of birds. 

Young birds don’t split off when they wean. They join the flock, forming a close knit friend group among the other weanlings from whom they will select mates as adults and with whom they will learn to find food, water, and nest materials and what to do with those.

Very like human children moving out of their parents’ house and forming bonds among their peers.

Pigeon society is an efficient democratic meritocracy.

Communication on the wing is INCREDIBLY efficient

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/06/150609213053.htm

They vote on nearly EVERYHTING

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/04/100416214045.htm

And if a leader proves to be ineffective, or a navigator inaccurate, the flock can and will vote to demote them.

https://www.audubon.org/news/in-homing-pigeon-flocks-bad-bosses-quickly-get-demoted

Pigeons are absolutely CRAZY-Smart!

Pigeons are capable of high level cognition. https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2009/…/090212141143.htm

To the extent that they understand the concepts of space and time! https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2017/…/171204144805.htm

They are self-aware enough to distinguish themselves from other pigeons, able to recognize themselves in photos, video, and mirrors AND differentiate between the three. https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2008/…/080613145535.htm

Their brains are wired SHOCKINGLY similarly to ours: https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2013/…/130717095336.htm

They categorize things and learn the equivalent of words the same way human toddlers do!

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2014/…/140402095107.htm https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2015/…/150204184447.htm

They can even learn to read written language well enough to differentiate between a real word and an acronym with the same number of letters.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas…/2016/…/160919111535.htm

They are pattern mapping social learners.  Exactly like we are!

Building on this list of scientific studies, I started to experiment with teaching  each successive generation of the resident pigeons to understand the basics of verbal communication by the same mechanic as one would a toddler.

And in just the last two years with Ankhou, I have learned that they can literally learn to understand both spoken AND written human language, and literally all it takes is talking to a pigeon as if it is a nonverbal human toddler who does not know that word yet to be able to teach them to understand object words, action words, emotion words, names, and locations.

Pigeons are pets you can literally communicate to in your native language.

It is absolutely amazing!

Ankhou was not trained to alert for my anxiety attacks.

He literally did that AND started alerting me for blood sugar spikes entirely on his own.

Not even a pigeon hatched in a human house hold. A feral.

No special genetics. No training what so ever. 

Just a pigeon being a pigeon: bonding with what he considered a flock mate, and getting worried when he noticed something was wrong.

Which made me wonder: What would happen if specific traits conducive to bonding with humans and being sensitive to their emotional state were selected for in a population?

What if those birds were given at least basic communication training? On top of the matching we already do by temperament.

I’m actually working on documenting our finances and plan to discuss them in more detail at the end of the month.

Just taking in rescues to foster is an expensive process.

You need to have quarantine space that keeps new birds as completely separated from your residents as possible.

You need a vet who is either experienced with or willing to learn to treat pigeons. Each new bird will need, at absolute least, a fecal test for parasites.

You need to have dip on hand for external parasites, and the funds to buy what ever wormer, anti fungal, antibiotic, or anintimicrobial is required to treat what ever the fecal exam turns up.

Which could legitimately be all of the above, as I have had one individual come in with two species of lice, two species of intestinal worms, coccidiosis, AND salmonella, all at the same time. I have had several others come in with Trich or thrush in place of or in addition to the coccidia or salmonella.

Most will come in malnourished or injured on top of being sick and/or parasitized.

You REALLY have to plan for the worst with rescues.

Because taking in animals you cannot house or feed or for whom you are unable to provide the necessary medical care is NOT rescuing them.

It is subjecting them to the exact neglect that rescuers intend to save them from.

It is REALLY easy for big hearted people to find themselves overwhelmed and exhausted trying to save every one, and that is something every one who wants to rescue needs to keep in mind for the sake of their health as much as the quality of their care.

I live in a trailer park in Ga, on a little plot of land just big enough to say I have a front and back yard.

The modest inheritance my parents left me and my sister when they passed funded the loft being built, and my husband’s job pays for what ever daily maintenance and veterinary care that bird and harness sales and my Patreon can’t cover.

It was designed around comfort and disease prevention for them and pain management for me. It really makes my day to know that people have enough interest in my work to ask detailed questions!

It’s a bit of a bear for an autistic woman with ADHD to get to a bunch of them all at once, but I still REALLY want to hear them and am THRILLED to get to answer!

It’s easier for me to answer in detail if I can focus on one question at a time, though.

There is absolutely no limit to the number I am willing to answer, so don’t be afraid to flood my inbox with a ton of individual questions. ^v^

[jvlicns]

julian amante , twenty - three , cis male , THE TOWER .

amusing , candid , resourceful , petty , cataclysmic , arrogant.

first of all HELLO !! im z. 25 / she+her / pst. im thrilled to be here and honestly a little shocked ?? my app was a rushed MESS but im so happy the admins understood my nonsense !! 

this is going to be a lil long so pls bear w me. im going to break it down into sections and eventually make an entire bio , but this will do in the mean time !

connections are here , & my discord is zvvf#1885 ! 

* tw for mention of drugs & alcohol

. . .

TAROT ━

the tower represents chaos , destruction , & upheaval. this change is usually sudden & unexpected -- & not always good. the tower itself is a symbol of ambition , but in this card we see it built on faulty premises & false beliefs , all of which are no longer useful.

the ruin of the tower is inevitable -- necessary for growth & groundbreaking renewal. it’s time to break out of the old ways.

AESTHETICS ━

cracked asphalt , bloody knuckles , tangerine sunsets. the smell of freshly cut grass . still , slow mornings. a neat row of fire ants , climbing up your bedroom wall. broken stained glass , an overgrown field. tears of laughter , the only you’ll ever shed. 

money in a yellow envelope , guilt in your eyes , pressed flowers , a string quartet , corruption , loss of morals , student debt , a yellow light , darkness , hellfire.

THOUGHTS ━

" you’ve got your orders & that’s enough. you don’t know who’s telling you to throw your classmates off the scent , but you’re getting paid to do it. maybe your moral compass would stop you if you didn’t struggle so much in the financial department , but hey. you’re doing what you have to do to survive. if only you didn’t have to go against your better judgment for it. "

GENERAL ━

assigned to REYNOLDS house 

fourth year -- senior .

currently working at the corner store as a cashier .

scholarship student -- 2.3 average gpa .

athlete , st. cade’s lacrosse team .

BACKGROUND ━

grew up in a small town in arizona , in one of those unfinished suburbs that ran out of funding halfway through a government project to “ upgrade ” that was met with widespread disapproval. it’s all empty pools & dirt lawns , a patchwork neighborhood of old houses mixed in with the new. 

former golden boy who peaked in high school : star athlete , prom king , voted best smile. eternally toeing the line between CHAMPION  & DIRTBAG.

well - liked , but known for being something of a hell - raiser. out every night , hungover every morning. it was less obvious back then -- he could easily brush it off as simple youthful rebellion , rather than a real personality defect.

his first taste of alcohol was in seventh grade. a summer night , with the sun retiring for the day but leaving her kiss on the still - warm pavement. his world -- previously filled with sunday school , tense family dinners , & 24 hour marathons of professional passive aggression , was forever changed. finally , the boredom slipped away. & not just that ! this was actually FUN. 

but for someone with zero impulse control . . . a door opened , & he never managed to close it.

from a young age , his parents were always involved in the church. they attended every sunday , no excuses. 

this lapsed as the years passed & the amante family found it more & more unpleasant to be in the same room together , but his parent’s beliefs never wavered. religion was used as a weapon in their home -- to shame & guilt. they claimed love , preached tolerance. what they practiced , however , was the opposite. as he grew older , julian managed to weasel his way out of most of their theological outings. he gained some freedom , in addition to the ire of his family. their disappointment in him grew from a tiny acorn to a mighty oak.

his parents had their own issues , long before julian came along. a marriage between two irreconcilable people. the love they should have shared mutated into something twisted , something that they could give only to their son. it was enough for them to feed him , clothe him , & put a roof over his head. anything else was simply asking too much. 

despite coming from a low - income family , things have never been particularly DIFFICULT for him. sure , they struggled. he’s lost count of the times the power got shut off , or the water. but julian was the type of kid who could charm teachers into bumping his grade up to a 71% , despite the dozens of half - finished assignments & failed tests. he didn’t really have to try -- they just wanted to help him. ( pity , perhaps ? he turns a blind eye )

he coasted through school. one of those natural athletes that coaches & admin treat like celebrities , focusing all their attention on a teenager they have high hopes for. higher hopes than he had for himself , in fact. 

julian never had dreams , not a plan for his future. all that stubborn arrogance fooled them : he’s spent the better part of the past seven years stalling. cutting corners & taking shortcuts , desperately avoiding reality.

he never expected to even leave his hometown , let along attend a prestigious college on a full ride lacrosse scholarship. somehow , he played enough games & passed enough classes to qualify for an opportunity that would pluck him from his sad , tragic storyline & deposit him on a shiny path to success. a fresh start. 

he didn’t want to go. fought endlessly about it with his parents , his friends , himself. his place wasn’t at some hoity - toity school , surrounded by do - gooders & the conscientious. julian may have a knack for delusion , for spinning a story that suits him in whatever moment is passing. but he’s smart enough knows what his future holds : drinking himself to an early death in the very house he was born in. you can’t fight fate -- but you can surely postpone it.

in the end , it’s the boredom that convinces him. he’s said & done just about everything he can here , exhausted all the options he cares to consider. made plenty of enemies , as well as friends. built & burnt bridges. 

the expectation of his teachers , his parents , were choking him. it’s foolish to think that this might be the way out – he’ll never change. but why not have some fun , while he’s still here ?

st.cade’s was a treasure trove for julian , filled with endless opportunities to amuse himself. despite his placement in reynold’s house & the mandatory church shit ( a part of his scholarship’s stipulations ) , it hasn’t been bad. another social scene for him to invade , conquests to be had , fights to provoke. the first few years were amazing : an intoxicated blur of his own little slice of this world. 

he lives in the moment , greedily gathering every experience he can. nodding off in class , smoking behind the greenhouse , collecting all the free alcohol he manages to sniff out.

he’s learned this : a loud laugh & bravado can get you far. but now , his actions have finally caught up with him. the school is threatening to terminate his scholarship , to pack up his bags & send him on the first train home. & while he has no idea what to do , he knows he can’t go back. god , no. 

even without what’s keeping him – the enticing mystery of helena’s disappearance , his friends , his freedom. he just can’t stand to go in reverse ; it would mean facing the consequences of every mistake he’s ever made ( & there are quite a few ! ) 

he’s a shark – he has to keep moving. 

that first letter came soon after the school - wide assembly. small , neat type. direct. there was no mincing words , the sender made it perfectly clear : this is his only option. if he wants to maintain this lifestyle , this is the way. so he burns the letters , following their instructions. almost relieved to be given direction. it’s a respite in the current disarray – something he used to enjoy , but now just feels exhausting. he’s the band , humming away as the titanic sinks. not my business , he thinks. but he’ll drown all the same.

PERSONALITY ━

he’s an asshole but a F U N asshole -- that makes it palatable , right ?? 

not a dumbass , but the lack of impulse control + arrogance could have fooled me ! his intelligence is only hinted at , invisible unless you’re looking : reciting keats from memory , listing off all 79 of jupiter’s moons. remnants of past & fleeting obsessions.

 has to actively undermine his own common sense -- for the laughs , of course !

selfish ; his needs & wants come before anyone else’s. a childish habit , yes , but one he’s been unable to break. ( not that he’s tried )

vacillates between aloof & dramatic. you can count on him to stir some shit up -- he adores chaos & just can’t keep his mouth shut. petty , to a fault.

he’s hot - shit & he knows it ; well aware of his pretty face & statuesque build. julian’s never been afraid of using it to his advantage , or even just reminding anyone around him of just how cute he is. ( listen up 5′s , a 10 is speaking ! )

 has a strong aversion to authority. “ don’t tell me what to do ! ” . . . * quietly takes your advice when you’re not looking * . . .

the good parts of him are buried deep. his loyalty , his gentleness. a warm heart that can easily empathize , but chooses not to. julians pursuit of superficial gratification blinds him , warping his reflection like a funhouse mirror.

aggressive & unrelenting. this could be channeled into something of a work ethic , if he cared enough. instead , he uses it to get what he wants. whatever that might be.

curious as a cat with nine lives , he won’t hesitate to ask the question everyone’s thinking. that bluntness is almost appealing , as long as it’s not directed at you. this makes him somewhat of a good listener , even if he’s only paying attention to satisfy his own nosiness. 

he’ll literally fight for the ones he loves. there aren’t many of them , but the sentiment stands. years of sports have taught him the value of teamwork , & he has yet to shake it. once you endear yourself to him , there’s no going back.

despite everything , julian manages to be a charismatic little firebrand. he’ll guarantee a good time , he just won’t help clean up the mess.

FUN FACTS ━

can fit his entire fist in his mouth

has The Loudest Sneeze Of All Time

once bit into an apple n saw a WORM inside so now he hates apples w a passion

right handed , but taught himself to be ambidextrous during the summer between fifth & sixth grade

promptly forgot he was ambidextrous & never uses his left hand

has surprisingly neat handwriting

can fall asleep ANYWHERE

likes country music ( will never admit it , tho )

his mother used to read him poetry , so he’s lowkey Very Into It

can’t carry a tune for shit , & his impressions are a w f u l. his british accent is just a cheap dick van dyke imitation , & his australian accent is what the british one SHOULD be