#style practice mostly. thought it was funny but the longer it took the less funny i thought it was😭 maybe someone will think it’s funny tho

[whoredmode]

the city of steelport

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’a little rude.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously. What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t see it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

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

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

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“You’re late!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not,” she warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

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

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

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

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

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry hums and unclenches it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

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

Lisa smiles.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he exhales.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

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

“Effect?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which part?”

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

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

“You know, so why don’t you?”

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

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

“And what if I don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

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

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

“That’d be nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Passion.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

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

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

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

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

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

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

“How are you?” She continues.

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

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

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No one said anything about nudes!”

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

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

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

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

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

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

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

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

“Or does it?”

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

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

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

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[aethersea]

And We Danced and December

If you have energy for both.. otherwise dealers choice :3

Man I wrote up an entire answer and then tumblr ate it >:( Most disheartening. But! I can do better the second time, so there.

I’ve done december here, so we’ll do And We Danced! This is the Bridgerton au of Stranger Things, which I’ve been posting snippets of here from time to time because, frankly, I think it’s hilarious. There’s just something so funny to me about jarring register shifts, and I’m writing this whole fic in regular teenager vernacular except the dialogue, which is 100% in the Regency-era style of Bridgerton. Ah, I crack myself up. What a nerd.

It's named after the 1985 song by The Hooters, and it was almost called Liars In Love (after a lyric from that very song) because that's what Steve and Robin are! In this game of love, they're lying through their teeth! But it's a lot to expect readers to understand what I mean by that, and specifically to understand that I do NOT mean that they’re IN love. And I like the joy of And We Danced. These kids could use some joy.

I’m probably only ever going to actually write one scene, the one where Steve and Robin decide on their fake-courting scheme. But I do have a bunch of other stuff hashed out for this au, so I’ll just use this ask as an excuse to babble on about it, thanks anon <3

Mike and Lucas each have a title to inherit.

Dustin’s dad was a successful merchant, who upon his death left Dustin’s mom with enough capital and investments to keep her in comfort the rest of her days. She’s canny enough at maintaining the investments, and sensible enough to live within her means, so her funds stretch to send Dustin to a good school and give him plenty of opportunities. Dustin kind of wants to follow in his father’s footsteps, but he also loves science enough that he kind of wants to be a scholar. His mom is super indulgent and insists that he should do whatever he wants, the money will sort itself out.

Joyce runs a reasonably successful tailor’s shop – it used to be Lonnie’s, but when he ran off and left her with more debts than business, she took over and kept the place running by the skin of her teeth. Most of Lonnie's clients were willing to work with Lonnie's wife instead, but most of them also tried to bully her into taking worse deals. A few of the clients just refused to do business with a woman altogether. But the other boys' moms doubled down on hiring her for everything, and talked her up to their friends too. This was years ago now, and Joyce is no longer scrambling desperately to keep the bills paid. She doesn't need their support to keep afloat. But there is a – not a friendship, perhaps, but a camaraderie. They all know they can rely on one another.

The boys all played together when they were little, because social class matters less when everyone’s five. At eleven, they’re getting too old for it to be socially acceptable, but their parents are mostly turning blind eyes to it because, well, they like their sons. They like their sons’ friends. They don’t want to deprive them of this until they absolutely have to.

Max’s family is from The Americas. Her stepfather is a minor lord who’s here to settle some family affairs, and has timed it so Billy can experience the Season – practice for when he gets himself a wife, though Billy’s father scoffs in the same sentence that he’ll never be good enough to net an actual English lady. Max’s mother is of the American upper class, that New England elite that thinks highly of themselves and yet is thought so little of by the British. She might be (gasp!) divorced, or she and Neil might both be widowed. 

Max is too young to come out, so she’s supposed to stay at home all day doing nothing. Practicing piano or something, idk. She hates this, and instead sneaks out dressed as a boy to experience the city. This is how she runs into the other kids.

[iadoreyouharry]

His Reputation

summary: Y/N and Harry are in High School. The two of them absolutely hate each other but have to work together at an English assignment. 

pairings: Harry Styles x reader

warnings: Angst and swearing. 

word count: 3,6K words

a/n : To be honest, i don’t really know if i like it that much, but i still wanted to share it with you! Please let me know if you liked it! :)

Today was the first day of senior year. Y/N couldn’t be any happier about finally starting her last year. She was over with this shit show of a school. First of all, Y/N didn’t have many friends. She tried to make them, but they were mostly put off by her appearance. She mostly wore dark clothes and didn’t always have a smile on her face. She barely put any effort into her make-up, only some mascara what was smeared out at the end of the day. 

But nonetheless Y/N had one best friend. It was hard for Y/N to open up to people and she could be cold and distant to a stranger at first, but if you get her to trust you she was literally a sweetheart. And so, it happened to be that Y/F/N won the trust of Y/N. 

In contrast to Y/F/N, Harry Styles was the person Y/N would never trust, even if he was the last person to exist on this planet. The hatred towards him was big. 

Harry Styles was a captain of the High School football team and was pretty popular. Freshman guys looked up to him, they aspired to be as good as him in Football one day. And the girls would drool all over him in the hallways. Even though he got a generous choice for girls he was still single. Some people said he didn’t want to have a relationship because he focused too much on football, others said he might be dating someone secretly. Y/N didn’t care about all this bullshit over Harry. She lived her life without having to obsess over a stinky football guy. The funny thing, she was the only one.

“How can you not like him?” Y/F/N asked Y/N. 

“How could you like him?” Y/N responded. “He is so full of himself, I’d almost think he wants to marry his self later.” Y/N chuckled when she saw him looking in the tiny mirror in his locker, fixing his hair. “Why would he care so much about his hair, god damn.” 

Y/N closed her locker and walked away from the scene. Girls were admiring from a little distance, but all you can do was find the nearest bathroom to puke. 

Harry tried sometimes to talk to Y/N, but it was short conversations. Y/N would respond back with short and cold answers and would cut off the conversation immediately. 

Y/N may hate Harry, but Harry did find Y/N interesting. He was confused as why she didn’t like him? How could someone not like him? He knew he was handsome and attractive; how could she not see it. But because she didn’t like him Harry felt more attracted to her. She was mysterious and he liked it. He only didn’t show it. After trying to talk nicely to her, and not succeeding, he became cold and harsh to Y/N too. 

After 3 full years of pestering each other on and off they were not thinking off ceasing this year. 

“Hey, Raccoon, still didn’t learn how to do some proper make-up?” Was one of the first things Harry yelled at Y/N when she walked into school. Y/N’s reaction? holding up two middle-fingers in Harry’s direction with a fake big smile. 

Y/N and Y/F/N said their goodbyes when they split to go to their classrooms. First period would be English. Y/N sat down in the back corner of the room to not be seen. The start was good, the teacher, Mrs. Anderson, talked about her summer break and introduced herself. She even showed pictures of her two dogs. But then hell broke loose. Mrs. Anderson paired people together to interview each other about their summer break and write a whole essay about it. Y/N hated projects where you needed to work together. But she hated this project even more when she heard who her partner would be. 

“And then next, Y/N Y/L/N together with Harry Styles.” Harry looked to Y/N with a smirk on his face and all you could do was put a middle finger up. Gladly Mrs. Anderson didn’t see it. 

After class Harry walked up to Y/N. “Please, fuck off.” Y/N said and grabbed her bag to leave. 

“You need to talk to me, otherwise we will both fail this class.” He said and crossed his arms. 

“Fine, then I’ll fail this class, everything to not have to talk to you.” 

“For a fact, I know you can’t fail this class, or you can’t graduate.” A crooked smile could be seen on his face and his head was tilted a bit. “So, what do you say, mine place, or yours?” 

“Library after school sounds just fine.” With those words, Y/N walked off to her next period. 

//

After school Y/N walked to the library to work on the project with Harry. She had told the horrible news to Y/F/N but the only thing she could say was: “Maybe you two might actually talk for once, and maybe even slightly be friendly to each other.” Y/N thought she was crazy and that that never was going to happen. 

Once in the library Y/N found a spot and pulled out her laptop to be ready for the interview she had to take. But Harry was nowhere to be seen. The thought of mailing him came through Y/N’s head, but that would look desperate, and Y/N was everything but desperate. 

After a good twenty minutes Harry finally showed up, he was dressed in his football uniform, and his hair was one big mess. “Practice took longer than expected.” he said. He took place across from Y/N and laid back in his chair. 

“I don’t care what the hell you were up to.” Y/N snapped. “Just be in time.” 

“Jeez, why so grumpy?” Harry laughed. Y/N was already irritated and couldn’t wait for this god damn project to be over. “So, what do we need to do?” 

“Didn’t you listen to the explanation of Mrs. Anderson?” 

“No.” 

Y/N sighed and tried to explain calmly what the two of them needed to do. 

“So, we need to interview each other?” Harry asked, “and then need to write an essay about each other’s summer break?” Y/N nodded. 

“Exactly, it isn’t that hard.” 

“If it isn’t that hard, then why won’t you write both of our essays?” Harry proposed. “You wouldn’t have to see me, and I wouldn’t have to do anything.” 

“Do I look like your little slave? I’m not going to do that, idiot.” 

After a while the two actually started to ask each other questions about their break. Y/N tried to come up with good questions and tried to answer Harry’s questions as well as possible. But his answers were short and Y/N couldn’t work with those, and let’s not talk about the questions he asked. 

“Aren’t you going to write my answers down?” Y/N noticed that Harry didn’t write anything down on his notebook during the whole interview. 

“Nah, I’ll remember it.” He crossed his arms and smiled. “Or, I’ll just come up with something.” 

“You can’t do that.”

“Oh, and who are you to say that? You’re not my teacher.”

//

The whole afternoon was full of the two fighting like this. and Y/N was relieved when they called it quits. They weren’t done, far from. Y/N didn’t have enough to get a whole essay to write, and she was sure Harry didn’t either, with his dumb ass questions. 

“So, when are we going to work on this further?” Y/N asked when she packed her stuff. 

“I thought we were done?” 

“We are far from done, how do you think you are going to write a whole essay about my break with this little information.” Y/N rambled. 

“Just, like I said. I’ll come up with some stuff.” 

“You can do that,” Y/N said, “But I’m not going to, so we’re going to meet up again to work on this horrible project, if you like it or not.” 

Harry put his hands in his pockets and was thinking about it. “Fine,” he finally said. “But, at my place tomorrow after school.” 

“I don’t fucking know where you live, Styles.” 

“I’ll just text you the address.” Harry already walks away. 

How in the hell was he going to text her if he didn’t even have her phone number? Y/N decided that wouldn’t be her problem. 

When Y/N got home she decided to make a start on her essay. Even though she didn’t have much to write about she stretched the hell out of everything and finally got at least one page full. The fact that the main thing Harry did in his break was playing football made Y/N laugh. How can a person be so dedicated about a school sport? When he didn’t play football, he hung out with friends. At least that’s what he had told Y/N. 

Harry played so much football to get away from his house. His parents were fighting all the time and Harry didn’t like being in the middle of it all. At home he often was in his room listening to music on 100% volume to zone out of the real world. Harry liked music, he has a guitar and he also likes to sing, but he keeps that to himself. Sometimes he even wrote songs, but would never let anyone hear them. The lyrics would be hidden away in an old book in a drawer in his room.

Of course, he couldn’t tell Y/N this was what he was doing in the holidays. He had a reputation of being the hot football player who wasn’t afraid of anyone. And even though he knew he could get any girl, he still was insecure. He was scared people would see when he hadn’t slept all night because of his parents. The bags under his eyes would sometimes be so big, he put his mother’s concealer under it. Nobody would notice. 

Harry was glad that his parents finally decided to get a divorce, and his dad would move out. It was quiet in the house, finally. And Harry got to have a good night sleep again. His bond with his mum had grew since, and he was really glad for it. 

When he got home he went to the kitchen where his mum was preparing dinner.  He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and then sat on the counter. 

“How was school, darling?” 

“I’ve got to do a stupid project for English class with that stupid girl, Y/N.” Harry’s mum knew he didn’t like Y/N, but she disagreed about how he talked about her. 

“Harry,” she said warningly. “You probably don’t even know her that well, maybe she’s a really nice girl.” 

“Sure, that’s why she’s so cold and harsh to me.” 

“Maybe she has her reasons?” Harry walks off unagreeably. He loved his mum, but in this case a little less. He knew Y/N was stupid. She didn’t like him, so why would he be nice to her? He tried it long ago, and that didn’t go well. Why even try now?

//

After school Y/N was walking to Harry’s house. It was a fifteen-minute walk and rain poured down. She forgot to bring an umbrella and was now soaking wet. She already felt the embarrassment of sitting in Harry’s room, clothes dripping on his floor. Amazing. 

After fifteen minutes of walking, Y/N arrived at Harry’s place. It was a cozy house, not too small, not too big. Y/N didn’t expect Harry to live in a house like this. She had more the image in her head of a big house with big entrance and huge garden. 

She walked up to the door and rang the bell. Anxiously waiting for someone to open it. After a few seconds a woman opens the door and squeaks when she sees Y/N. “Oh, you must be Y/N! come inside it must be cold!” Y/N follows the woman into the house and there they stood in the hall. “I’m Anne, Harry’s mum.” the woman says. “You’re soaking wet, darling. Do you want something warm to change into?”

“Oh, no I don’t want to bother-”

“I’ll get Harry to get you something warm.” She yells upstairs for Harry to come downstairs and get Y/N some warm clothes. Harry’s face speaks for itself, he’s already done with this bullshit, but does what his mum tells him to. 

Anne told Y/N to just follow Harry and it would be alright. So, she did. Harry walks into a room, Y/N guessed was his. The walls were painted in a light color and it was clean. Y/N imagined his room full of football supplies, but she saw nothing what was related to football. While Y/N was looking around the room Harry was picking out some of his old clothes. He gave them to Y/N and told her she could get changed in the bathroom. 

Harry had given Y/N some sweatpants and his old football shirt. It was way too big on her, but it was better than the wet clothes she was wearing. Anne offered to put her wet clothes in the dryer so Y/N handed them over to her. 

When Y/N walked back into Harry’s room Harry looked up. He didn’t want to find Y/N cute in his old clothes, but he did. And he hated himself for that. It was just cute how the clothes were way too big on her. She awkwardly stood in the door opening and waited for Harry to say something. 

“You can sit on my bed.” Harry offers while he was already seated at his desk. Y/N plops down and grabs her laptop from her bag. Y/N was confused, as to why his mum was so kind and caring while Harry was far from that. 

The two, were to surprise, working great together. Harry finally asked some good, deep questions and Y/N was glad to give some good answers in return. After an hour the two were finished interviewing each other without any hassle. 

Harry dropped on his bed with a big sigh while Y/N was still seated at the end of it. “Glad that’s over with.” he says while staring at the ceiling. 

“Yes, indeed.” Y/N answers as she puts her laptop away. “I’ll get my own clothes again so I can leave.” 

“They’re probably not dry yet.” Harry says. “You can stay a little longer if you want, I can make you a cup of tea?” In this hour of not fighting with each other Harry began to see why he was interested in her four years ago. He saw her ticking away on her laptop with her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. It was funny how she made weird faces while typing out some of the answers. And he admired when she giggled sometimes. It wasn’t a lot, but for some reason it felt like home. He knew he couldn’t be harsh to her right now. 

“Why are you so nice to me all of a sudden?” Y/N asks suspicious. Harry was never nice to her, so something’s got to be up. 

“It was peaceful today, I liked it.” 

“I thought that was just to get over with this project.” 

“No, I-, do you want tea or not?” Y/N chuckled and nod her head.

She was still surprised Harry was acting so nice out of nowhere. She had do admit she really liked this side of him. But she was still scared he’d change at a glance. Maybe he only was this nice because there was nobody else and his reputation couldn’t be destroyed. 

Harry already was off to the kitchen so Y/N was alone with her thoughts. She really wanted to believe he could always be this kind, but she needed to see him like this at school. She was scared that if she would open up, just a little bit right now, he would use it against her, and pester her even more with it. 

After 5 minutes Harry comes back up with two cups of tea and hands one over to Y/N. “Thank you.” She says with a slight smile. It was silent while the two of them while slurping their tea. 

“Y/N I can’t do this.” Y/N looked up at Harry in confusion. She knew it, he couldn’t fake being nice to her. Of course, she was right. It was just an act. “I can’t act like I hate you, when I actually like you, you seem really nice.” 

“What?!” Y/N almost spits out her tea. “How?” she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Then, why were you always so rude to me?” 

“Because you acted cold and harsh towards me!” he exclaims. 

“Ow.” 

Dead silence. 

“I’m just not so open towards people I don’t know, I don’t trust people that easy and i can be cold, i guess.” Y/N explains. “I always thought you just picked on me.” 

“No, in our first year of High School i really tried to talk to you in a nice way, but you always cut off the conversations.” 

“So, because I was cold to you, you became cold and mean to me?” 

“Yes, i guess so.” Harry takes another sip of his tea. “I guess the tea is hot today.” Y/N laughed and gave nudged his arm. “Can you trust me now?” 

“Well, no.” Y/N says. “How can I know you really mean this?” 

“I just don’t pester you the upcoming days on school? If you don’t either?” he extends his arm. “Promise?” Y/N nods and takes his hand. 

“Promise.”

//

The next week the two of them didn’t snap at each other and it was peaceful between the two of them. They also didn’t speak to each other, but sometimes they would send each other a small smile in the hallways. 

Y/F/N noticed the sudden change between Y/N and Harry. “What is going on, why aren’t you guys fighting all the time?” 

“We came to our senses, and agreed we should stop being mean to each other.” Y/F/N was shocked. She saw the two of you fighting each day for the last three years, how was that changed of a sudden?” 

“But, you literally hate each other.” 

“Well,” Y/N begins. “I thought he hated me, but it was me who was harsh to him in the beginning, so he became harsh to me too because of that.” 

“So you hated him for being mean, but it was your own fault?” 

“Exactly.” 

“And you’re sure he won’t start picking on you again?”

“I hope so.” Y/N gulped. “He promised it.” 

“Let’s hope” Y/F/N says cheery. “Because I’m liking this truce.” 

When Y/N was walking in the way of a bathroom she walked by Harry and his friends. 

“100% you’re going to pick on her again next week.” She hears one of his friends say laughing. 

“Yeah, absolutely.” Harry confirms and laughs with his friend. 

“What the fuck, Styles?!” you blurt out. Harry looked up in shock after hearing you. He wanted to say something but you ran into the bathroom. 

“Y/N,” he stood by the door to try and talk to you. He heard his friends behind him laughing but he didn’t care. Why did he care so much about this stupid reputation, it wasn’t meant for Y/N to hear that, he didn’t mean a thing he said, he just wanted his friends to like him? “Y/N, please.” he repeated after she didn’t respond after the first time. After the third time of not responding he walked into the girl’s bathroom not giving a fuck. 

“Go away.” Y/N yelled. Harry could tell she cried a bit and tried to cover it up. “You don’t care about me.” 

“I do, I really do Y/N.” 

“Didn’t seem like it back there.” 

“Y/N I have a reputation here.”

“Exactly, and getting a truce with me would ruin it, go ahead, let’s ruin each other’s lives again.” Harry wanted to come closer to Y/N but she pushed him away. “If that fucking reputation is so fucking important to you, mister fucking styles, then go ahead and save your reputation.” She punched Harry on his chest. For harry it didn’t hurt that much, but Y/N really needed to relieve her anger at him. Harry grabbed her wrists so she stopped hitting him. “Let me go!” she exclaims. Harry doesn’t let go and stares deeply into Y/N eyes. 

“Fuck my reputation.” Harry says. He leans forward and crashes his lips onto Y/N. At first Y/N was in shock by the sudden kiss but was soon joining him. Their lips were in sync. Harry grabbed Y/N’s cheek and stroked it with his thumb and Y/N’s hands were all over Harry’s curls. The anger she had really was outed in the kiss and it made it even more passionate. The two couldn’t get enough of each other, and they both realized that this was the thing they both wanted, but tried to put that feeling away for so many years. 

“Harry.” Y/N begins as the kiss came to an end. “Are you sure you want to get rid of that reputation, for me?” 

“one hundred percent.” He grabs her hand and squeezes it. “please, trust me.” 

“I want to, but how do i know you won’t keep talking about me like that.” referring to the scene with his friends from a moment ago. 

“You still have my football shirt from the afternoon we did the interview?” Y/N nodded, Harry said she could keep it because it didn’t fit him anymore. That was a lie, he wanted her to have it, it looked adorable on her. “Please, wear that to school tomorrow, and I’ll gladly show you off to everyone in this school.” 

[illfoandillfie]

Hey i hope you're enjoying your time off work so far! Id like to request a roger blurb please, it's not from a prompt list but I had a thought the other day I couldn't get out of my head! So I was reading something on The Cross and the other lads in the band were like 22, and I just imagined being one of their friends and they offer to bring you into the studio for a day because youre interested to see how they record but you're a bit nervous to meet roger and when are introduced you can't get over how hot he is in the flesh and he thinks youre really cute and takes a liking to you and theres a bit of flirting and loads of chemistry 😍 honestly would love to read a whole fic on this but a blurb would great! 😁 p.s sorry this is so long! 😂

This is such a cute idea! I hope I did it justice!

~~~

You’ve known Peter for years. Watched as he’s picked up the bass as a hobby and then got seriously into it. You went with him when he went to audition for a band, waited out the front of the building they held them in and asked him how it went when he was done. The rumour was that a musician who was already quite famous was looking for people to join a new band so your first question was actually…

“Who was it?”

“Roger Taylor!”

“Who?”

“From Queen! Y’know, the drummer,”

Less exciting than you’d imagined. If it had been Freddie himself you would have been more impressed. And the guitarist (whats-his-name, tall fellow with all the hair) might have been worth a exclamation and maybe tempted you to turn back and try and catch a glimpse. But the drummer? Who cares. But the good news was that Peter was in. Rodney or whatever his name was had clearly liked what he saw and you couldn’t blame him, Peter was the best bassist you knew, best musician you knew. You were proud of Peter and happy for him.

There were a few perks to being besties with the bassist in a proper band. He gave you copies of all their albums and you got to meet the rest of the band. Well most of them. The singer, the famous one, had never been able to make it, always busy with Queen or his family. But he seemed like a top bloke from everything you heard about him and you did like his style, his voice. You’d thought you might finally get to meet him when you went and saw them play on the tour but unfortunately you’d had to back out at the last minute after catching a flu-like bug.

It wasn’t until they were working on the next album that it happened. You were hanging out at Peter’s place, his first day off since they’d finished recording, when he got a phone call. As he put it, some fucking moron had fucked up one of the tapes and they had to go in and re-record a whole fucking song. He was apologetic for ruining your day together but you waved him off. You could see him again tomorrow or the next day or whenever.

“Unless you wanted to come with me? Hopefully it won’t take more than a couple of hours and then we can go see a movie or something. And you can see how we make an album.”

“All that shit you’ve told me about it might actually make some sense,” you laughed but agreed to the plan.

Spike was the first to see you, pulling you into a hug but the rest of the band was soon saying hi too and waving as they plugged in instruments and tuned them. Peter left you to find Roger and ask what had been lost so you ambled around the studio, looking at the records that hung on the walls and all the equipment. The numerous buttons and dials and adjustable slides made you feel a little like you were in a space ship in a sci-fi movie. You were just beginning to wonder where Peter had vanished to and when they’d be getting on with it when the door behind you opened and in he walked with Roger. You smiled and waved and he said something to Roger before they came over to your corner of the room.

“So you’re Y/N? I’m sorry I haven’t been able to meet you earlier, Peter’s told me so much about you.” He reached out to shake your hand as he spoke and you were struck by how charming he was.

“He has, has he?”

“All good I promise,”

“Of course it’s all good. He knows how much dirt I have on him.”

Roger laughed as Peter rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, I’m Roger by the way.”

“Nice to finally meet you Roger,”

“I’ll try not to keep your boy too long. But please, make yourself comfortable. There’s a couch over there or you can sit and watch what they do at the desk.”

You thanked him for letting you be there and wished them luck as they turned and went through the second door into the recording space. And then you kicked yourself for saying something so stupid. No one had told you Roger was hot. That was crucial information and no one had thought to inform you. You’d heard he was funny and a great musician and all this other stuff and not once had they said he was hot! You tried to remember if you’d noticed it on any of the record sleeves but you couldn’t say you’d really paid much attention. You’d been much more focused on Peter. But now, after having met Roger, you felt like you were regressing to a giggly teenager again and had to turn around so no one would see you grinning.

After a bit of discussion half the band left the recording space, leaving the drummer to lay down his part first. Peter came over to talk to you, but your eyes were firmly stuck on Roger as he bent over one of the mixing boards.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” Peter said, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Huh?”

“Can you stop drooling over Rog for a second,”

“I’m not drooling,” you wrenched your eyes away from Roger and turned to face Peter instead.

“Might as well be,”

“What’s his deal anyway?”

“Seriously?”

“I’m curious, sue me,”

“Divorced. Kids. Twice your age,”

“Any downsides I should know about?”

“Twice your age isn’t a downside?”

“Course not. Means he’s experienced and mature,”

Peter laughed and you took the opportunity to look over at Roger again, though you quickly brought your gaze back to Peter.

“Seriously though, is there any reason I should be wary?”

“I’ve known Rog for a few years now and he’s a really great guy, if a little busy. Plus, if Spike’s stories about Queen tours are to be believed, you’re right to say he’s experienced,”

You laughed and this time when you looked back at Roger your eyes met. You smiled, the sort of flirty smile the boys in the local pub liked. He smiled back before turning to the desk again.

 For the next few hours you watched as each band member took a turn in the booth, playing their part over and over and over until everyone was satisfied with how it sounded. It was a little boring, the novelty soon wearing off, but there were things to keep you entertained. Peter talked to you while he wasn’t preoccupied, sometimes joined by one or two of the others. Occasionally they’d interrupt whatever they were saying to comment on how the person playing sounded, and Roger would make adjustments based on the feedback, or talk into the little speaker and relay the advice. Mostly you amused yourself by fantasising about Roger, watching him over the shoulder of whoever was talking to you. You caught him look at you a few more times too. It happened more frequently once Peter was in the booth and you decided you might as well make a move. Afterall, how likely was it you’d see Roger again any time soon?  

He’d said you could sit closer to the desk if you wanted so you sidled up next to him and asked him to explain what you were looking at. He beckoned you closer still, wrapped his arm around your waist as he pointed out different slides and buttons and explained what they did. There was a definite tension between you, something electric, something that made your skin tingle where his hand lay. You nodded along, asked questions. He seemed impressed by that, happily answering everything in great detail. Until he turned back to watch Peter, his hand slipping from your waist and his voice becoming much more serious. When Peter was done, you hugged him and said he sounded great.

“I saw you practically sitting on Roger’s lap just now,” he whispered, double checking Roger himself wasn’t listening in.

“I think he likes me,”

“You’re young and pretty of course he likes you,”

“You’re the worst person to talk to about this,” you laughed, “But would you care if I…”

“What, seduced him?”

“I was going to say asked him out but same diff,”

“Y/N, you’re a grown woman and I’m not your keeper,”

“Okay but you’re in a band with him, I don’t want to like, get in the way.”

“If you want to go for it then go for it.”

“Even with the age gap?”

“It clearly doesn’t bother you and lord knows I hope that when I’m 40 something I can still pull 22 year olds.”

You laughed, your mind made up.

There wasn’t much chance to put your plan in motion inside the studio. Too many people and Roger became distracted as it was his turn to record his vocals. Hearing Roger sing what was obviously a love song made your breath catch and your heart race. If you’d felt unsure about him, those doubts were gone. You found yourself standing by the desk again, not to see how they adjusted the levels but just to be closer to the glass between you and Roger. He smiled at you between verses and you desperately wanted to be the person he was singing about. As he re-sang the final verse, adjusting based on feedback from the others, you felt like you needed some air. Slipping out the door you headed down the corridor and stepped out of the building. Two vending machines were there and you dug out your purse for some change. As you were crouching down to collect the bottle you heard the door open again. It was Roger.

“I’m sorry this is taking longer than we thought,”

“Oh, it’s fine I feel like I understand what Peter does now. But maybe can make it up to me after with a coffee?”

Roger opened his mouth to respond and then paused.

“Doesn’t have to be coffee…”

“I’m flattered but I’m not sure that’s a good idea,”

“Why not? Is it because I’m younger than you?”

“No, no, that’s not it. I’m just not in the habit of taking my bandmates girls’ out on dates,”

Realisation dawned on you and you began to laugh, even more so once you saw Roger’s confused expression, “Me and Peter aren’t together. We’re just mates,”

“Really? But he talks about you a lot and Spike said-”

“Spike doesn’t know what he’s on about. Did you not wonder why I was flirting so much?

“No, I definitely wondered. But that’s, that’s good.”

“Good?”

“Well, what I mean is, you’re cute. I would have asked you out already expect that I thought…But that’s by the by, um,” he scratched the back of his head, “So you still want to get that coffee?”

[itslunarwritesstuff]

City of Angels (Draft)

Word Count: 2,160

A/N: This is only a draft, barely edited so please be nice. I would appreciate the feedback and if you guys like this enough I will do a repost that is polished up and finished. 

________________________________________________________________

The club life was something that she was unfamiliar with just a few months ago but after moving to this ‘city of angels’ as they call it, going out was as normal as breathing. 

The back of Y/N’s neck lightly misted with sweat and the residue of the perfume and oils she put on earlier in the night, her friends were once by her side but have since migrated to different areas with different guys and girls, dancing on each other. 

Having her fill of dancing by herself, for the time being, Y/N makes her way to the bar and pushes her empty glass towards the bartender and asks for water to have in between cocktails. 

Sitting on the barstool she hears someone say “Hey” and when she spins around in her chair she sees an unfamiliar guy; pretty tall with obvious tattoos and a type of style that makes him serious but goofy at the same time and it worked for him. “Yes,” Y/N smiled showing him that it was okay to continue. 

He looked a bit surprised by her reaction but recovered from the shock so quickly it was almost like it was never there in the first place. He pointed to her feet and said: “Just wanted to compliment you on your shoes, very flashy and I can honestly say I have never seen anything like them before.” 

Y/N glanced at her the shoes of the topic, she completely forgot about her outrageous footwear. 

She was wearing a 6-inch platform boot that was all decked out in rhinestones and a sharp black buckle. 

“Thanks...Um, I’m sorry what is your name?” Y/N reached her hand out for him to shake. 

Switching his drink to the opposite hand he takes her hand and shakes it gently,” No my bad, my names  Pete” he laughs. “Probably should have led with that, And yours is..”

“Nice to meet you, Pete, my name is Y/N. How are you doing tonight” she says continuing the conversation and pointing to the seat next to her for him to take. 

Y/N was hoping she wasn’t giving the guy the wrong idea, she was not looking for anything other than a good conversation since her friends were preoccupied at the moment.  

“I’m doing pretty good just here with some friends. What about you?” Pete leans forward a bit so she can hear him better. “I’m actually here with some friends too,” Y/N says. 

Pete looks a bit confused and says “But you have been dancing alone practically all night”

Y/N decided to joke with him a bit and say “Oh so you’ve been watching me all night” she laughed. 

“Well with those shoes, honestly who couldn’t. But no actually my friend Colson actually spotted you.”

“Yeah sure, put the blame on the friend” Y/N laughed, this conversation was going smoother than she thought it would. 

“Ha. Ha. Usually, that would be my cop-out but its actually true this time” Pete decided to point his friend out “There he is you can’t miss him, Redshirt and looking right at you...oh god” Pete muttered the last part under his breath,  his friend being so obvious it hurt. 

Colson quickly averted his gaze as someone behind him was trying to get his attention. 

Stunned a bit by the exchange of eye contact Y/N could only mutter a small “Oh I see him” and quickly turned her attention back on the conversation she was having with Pete. 

“Since your friends kind of vanished, do you want to come and hang with us? “ Pete asked being genuine. 

“You sure they won’t mind me crashing,” Y/N asks just to make sure she isn’t intruding. 

“Nah, besides Colson is actually really sweet. You’ll see” Pete grabs your wrist making sure you get through the crowd safely and not to lose you. 

When the two of you make it to the section where they’re hanging out it only takes a minute for Pete to start introducing Y/N to everyone. The funny thing is Colson is the last one who comes over for introductions when he finally does meander over to her though she already has her hand outstretched for him. He kind of just stares at her hand for a moment, standing there awkwardly. So long in fact that another one of his friends, Slim hit him in the arm to snap him out of whatever daze he was in. 

Colson coughed and finally took Y/N’s hand shaking it a bit longer than the others, but she didn’t stop him. Their eyes were locked and he said “I’m Colson” while she responded “Y/N”. 

After letting go of each others grasp, Y/N tried to look anywhere but at him not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea, mostly herself. But to no avail, Colson’s gaze fell to Y/N’s shoes and he muttered a small “Woah”, “Hmm what was that” Y/N wasn’t quite sure what he said. 

“Your shoes are so...Badass. You’re almost as tall as me and you look like you could beat the shit out of someone” and he actually smiled and in return, she did too feeling a lot better in this situation. “That’s exactly how I feel when I wear these. And frankly Shoes or not I am badass.” everyone around them laughed including Colson. “Oh trust me I can tell, can I get you a drink?” Y/N was taken aback by his question but decided it would be okay to put her guard down for the night and enjoy this time with new people. “Yeah sure. Just surprise me” usually when guys offered Y/N a drink she declined for obvious reasons, but she felt oddly at ease but full of electricity around Colson and they had only met each other moments ago. “Here you can come with me, just to make sure I’m not messing with it” obviously Colson was joking but he held his hand out for Y/N to take none the less. Hands fastened together he looks at Y/N, pulling her from their secluded corner into the ever-moving crowd and slowly make their way to bar tripping once on the way over someone’s foot. His hands steadied Y/N at her waist and it was then that she realized how pretty his eyes were. Breaking out of her trance much too soon, she had to keep her focus on the task at hand pointing at an opening in between the bodies on the dancefloor. 

Colson is quick to push his way through the gap, not like it was that hard considering he was taller than most of the people there. 

Getting to the bar he quickly asks “Do you like whiskey?” “Yeah” a short but true reply she had. 

Motioning to the bartender Colson orders a “Casanova” but Y/N is wondering how the hell he got the bartenders’ attention so fast, and what kind of pull he had cause it usually took at least ten minutes or more to wait her turn to get a drink. “How did you do that,” Y/N asked obviously impressed and astonished. Colson looked at Y/N with the same astonished feature but confusion also set into his face. 

“Wait really?” his tone was confused but not in a bad way. “What do you mean by really? It usually takes me forever to order a drink and for you it was instantaneous.” Y/N chuckled. 

 When he figured out she really didn’t know who he was Colson honestly felt relieved. 

“Oh that, I’m a musician with my friends over there. Except for Pete, he is a comedian.” 

Y/N nodded understanding but not judging or asking more questions “That makes a lot of sense now, it can be really hard to make me laugh but he had me busting up earlier.” 

Waiting for the drink to be made Colson agreed “Pete is honestly the funniest and one of the best people I know. We had a rough year a few years back and we really became closer because of it and helped each other through it” Colson did not understand why he was being so honest with this girl but something about her put him at ease which was hard to come by but he still tried to pull himself together. 

“You guys speak really highly about one another, I like that. I can’t wait to find a friendship like that” Y/N said a sort of sad look washing across her face. “Why what are your friends like?” he asked. 

Y/N laughed a bit coldly “You want to know what my friends are like. They are conniving and self-centered; not to mention they left me by myself pretty much right when we showed up here. I mean look around” Y/N pointed to a few of them scattered around with different hookups and most of them seem to have left. 

“Well, it looks like you need some new friends.” Colson jokes his hand squeezing hers gently. Only just now did they both realize their hands were still clasped together; Y/N panicked and let go of him suddenly. Colson’s mood in his face dropped and Y/N said “I’m sorry… I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I just want to respect your space.” The light sprung back into his face and said “ If I didn’t like it, then you would know” and for the first time, he sees Y/N’s face flush pink and boy does he like it. 

Their drinks are ready and it only takes Y/N a moment to start and finish hers. 

Grabbing a hold of Colson’s hand again she decides to be bold considering she is most likely not going to see him again after tonight and wants to savor this feeling she has when she is around him. 

Leaning up as much as she can in her shoes she asks softly in his ear “In that case want to dance with me before the night is over” Colson is silent and instead guides Y/N to the dancefloor and twirls her around by her hand and waist. 

His hands are draped on her body and Y/N feels a drunk, not from the booze but just him and even though she knew how these things went down she let herself live in the moment.

After a few songs, the two of them went back to the area where all of Colson’s friends resided. Y/N had to let go of his hand, knowing that if she didn’t she wouldn’t be able to later. 

Y/N stayed for a couple more hours just talking, drinking, and smoking with the group; exchanging stories about life. 

Before the night came to a close Y/N’s feet were tired of these shoes so she excuses herself to the bathroom and grabs her bag from the coat check. Switching into a pair of flat sandals she makes her way back to the group of people she has spent the night getting to know. 

It was close to being four in the morning and the dancefloor has thinned dramatically from when she first arrived and that’s when Y/N knows the night is ending sooner than later.  Before getting back to the group Y/N looks for her friend who is supposed to be her ride; not seeing her anywhere Y/N walks back to the room where Colson, Pete, and the others reside and texts her friend. 

Y/N: Where are you? Looking for you everywhere. 

Friend: Got a date I’m bringing home. Figured you would be fine. 

Y/N didn’t even bother answering, approaching the group with a huff she opens the Uber app. 

If she knew she was going to have to take an Uber she would have brought some sort of form of protection like pepper spray.

“What’s deflated you?” Pete asks noticing her mood and lack of height from the boots.

“Yeah Literally” Colson points out. 

“Oh yeah, I always bring backups for shoes like that,” Y/N says. 

Pete definitely doesn’t miss that Y/N’s sandals are open-toed (with a fresh pedicure no less) and takes a second to glace at Colson and joke with him subtly.

But is brought back to the subject when Y/N groans again murmuring “Of course there are no rides available right now.”

Before Pete can ask Y/N what has her so frustrated again Colson beats him to it. 

“You okay Y/N, wheres your friends”.

“They all left without me and I tried to get an Uber but there are no rides available. So now I’m going to call a cab company and hope for the best”.

“Nah you are not gonna take a cab this late” Pete says. 

“Not to mention by yourself and drunk” Colson chimed in. 

Y/N looked at them with a confused but understanding emotion on her face. 

“I mean walking isn’t really safe but I don’t have many options” Y/N counters back.

The group seems to have a silent conversation between each other and agreeing on something. 

Y/N was too buzzed to know what about though. 

[jerrylewis-thekid]

I will try to be as short as possible. For several reasons I feel very close to Jerry Lewis: I am an only child, I saw little of my parents because of their work and, as a child, I played with my imaginary friend the "Fairy of the house". I talked to her and played hide and seek with her. I was raised by my maternal grandparents who lived with us. My grandmother I called her "mom". She died when I was 9. My grandfather died when I was 17. My mother died ten months. After that time, I took heavy tranquilizers to sleep, no longer have scary nightmares and calm anxiety. She was practically a legalized junkie. After about a year I found the strength to throw those crap drops in the trash and I never picked up again. My damned sensitivity has always made things difficult for me. Who is NOT an only child cannot understand what it means to be one. ******** The same morning that, finally, I had the strength to leave my first boyfriend, violent with me both psychologically and physically, I asked a girl next door if I could go out with them. She accepted. Maria (false name) I met her two days later. Right from the start we found each other nice and she began to prefer me to the other three girls (we were a group of 5 girls all single). She was only four years older than me but dressed a bit "like a married woman" as we say. In short, he seemed much older than me. He had green eyes and naturally curly dark hair. I am also brunette but with straight hair (in those days), iridescent gray - blue eyes and, not being very tall, unfortunately I have always shown less years than I am. I followed fashion more than her. I was 25 (but everyone gave me a maximum of 18), she was 29. We bonded immediately, only after a few weeks we went out more often just the two of us leaving the others at home. At the time I was much happier than now, I've always liked to laugh, joke, say funny things, make fun of everything. We were laughing all the time. Gradually she and I began to look a little like each other ... She cut her hair short making it almost straight. I told her not to because her curly hair was beautiful but she didn't take suggestions. He always did what she wanted. I cut my hair into a medium short bob by curling it with a perm or a hair curling iron. In short, I styled them as were his naturals. Without agreeing we often went out dressed in the same colors. Only the style remained different, she never wanted to adapt to fashions. I've never seen her in black sheer stockings and high-heeled pumps. I always wore those. The people in the village were now starting to consider us sisters. When someone we knew met us on separate streets (in the morning when we were doing our errands around the house) he asked her "And where did you leave Artemisia?". Of course, the same thing happened to me too. For the country we always had to be together. In five years of friendship we have never shook hands, we have not kissed my cheek even at Christmas or their respective birthdays. It was just a "best wishes!". Stop. But we liked being in the company of the other. We practically isolated ourselves from the other three and only the two of us were going out. We walked in the public garden, like everyone else, happy hour and similar things were not used in those days. She started inviting me to her house to attend the Christmas Eve dinner and, in the summer she would take me with her and her family (she had a sister, two brothers and nephews) on day trips. I felt that I had found a family and above all that I had found a sister. She began a troubled relationship with a boyfriend, her former friend. One who liked women a lot. It was a story he wanted to keep secret. I cried with her every time she was sad for him, I was happy for her when, the day after a meeting with him, her eyes were sparkling. I didn't need her to tell me that the evening had gone well, I just had to look at her. I understood when she was worried, when she was angry, when she was peaceful. I just had to look at it, it was an open book. One day she asked me if I could be her

assistant. She had been a catechist for 15 years (we are Catholics), she was left alone and needed help. I accepted mostly to do her a favor, I was not so convinced. But I started to like dealing with catechetical children, after all, I always felt like a 10-year-old girl. But Maria did catechism in a very serious way, she never smiled at the children ... She had a friend who was a few years older than her, she was a notary and she was well known and well liked in the village. In my country if you don't have a degree you are nobody. She was already there before me. One day, indeed a bad day, this woman, whom I call Jeanne ... was designated as president of the catechetical group. She was an atheist but evidently this was of little importance. Jeanne immediately chose Maria as her right hand, she became the secretary of the group. And it began to change. With me. We spent less and less time together. Those few times that we went out, Jeanne, Maria and I, I began to discover a Maria that I did not know. The two of them literally made fun of each of the group's catechists, their actions, their families. With a nastiness never seen before. Maria and I used to keep gossip about other people out of our laughter when we went out. I've always hated gossip. But with Jeanna Maria it changed. And it was starting to change with me. Everything I said or did bothered her, she got really angry with me. One afternoon I called her asking if she wanted to go out (we hadn't seen each other for a week) she replied that she had a headache. Ok, I got dressed and went out anyway to go to the pharmacy and take a walk anyway. It was a summer afternoon, a real shame to stay indoors. On the way I met them. I said nothing, I stopped for a few seconds, looked at Maria and she immediately told me, as if to justify herself "Jeanne wanted to talk to me, it was important!" I greeted them without saying anything and went home crying. Okay, do you want to go out with her? Tell me. But don't lie to me, I thought. I can't stand lies. Since then he never asked me to go out all three together. She and I saw each other less and less and when we saw each other she no longer told me anything as she did before. We no longer talked to each other and above all we no longer laughed together. Once I asked her why she had changed with me and she, still in that angry tone of hers, told me that now she felt like an important person, because Jeanne had asked her to help her. That is ... "do you feel important because you ONLY have to pass books, documents and video tapes to the catechists for meetings with the children?" Because that was his job. "Sure" she replied. "She is a notary and she chose me. You don't even have a diploma." "Maria" I said to her, "look, you also don't have a diploma and I remind you that I left school only after my mother's death to stay close to my father". She replied "Here, now you are starting to blame me for everything I have done for you (what ??), I have given you more affection than you ever had from anyone and now you take advantage of it !!". And if he went, he left me on the street. I was making her understand not to leave me alone, to continue being what we had always been and she was accusing me of wanting to take advantage of it. And what about? She did not show up for more than two weeks until the Sunday of the swearing of the catechists in church arrived, which marks the beginning of the catechetical year. It was mid-September. I didn't call her in those two weeks because I was hoping she would calm down. When he got angry with people he didn't accept any kind of clarification. That Sunday morning I didn't want to go to church, I was morally down but I felt that I had to do my duty as assistant catechist. I went to mass. Halfway through mass the rite began. Catechists and assistants were called one at a time to the altar for the oath. When they got to us they called Maria but not me. They passed on calling the next catechists. The church was crammed with children and their mothers who clearly knew both Maria and me.

She walked towards the altar, my heart was in my mouth. My children asked me "Artemisia you are not going?" with a surprised expression on his face. I just replied "I don't know children, maybe there has been a mistake". But I knew it wasn't like that. When she went back to the pew I continued to say nothing to her, she would have been angry with me in church in front of everyone. When the mass was over and we left the church, I approached her, remaining calm and, trying to smile at her in the best possible way, I asked her "Maria what happened, why didn't they call me?". As I expected she got angry, and almost screaming (we were in front of a bar full of people inside and outside) said that I hadn't gone to catechism in those 20 days "and this morning you showed up all dressed up and elegant in church just to be seen by people! ! ". I was stunned ... "Maria didn't tell me I had to come to catechism, I knew that catechism would begin after today's mass!". She said nothing, she went away leaving me once again alone in the street. I was sure he was going to Jeanne's house. I was not wrong. She went into her house, soon after I rang the bell and I too went upstairs. As soon as Maria saw me, she told me a whole series of things that I don't even remember anymore and left all angry. I sat down and burst into tears. Jeanne asked me what had happened. I told her everything. She told me I was wrong to follow her (she was right, I realized later) but added to let her go. "Let things settle", she told me, "give it time." "I'll talk to her and let you know." I'm still waiting. Anyone who knew Maria and me (practically more than half the country) when she asked me what had happened and why she and I had argued (in my small town you don't need gossip newspapers, things are known within 24 hours at most) I always replied "destiny wanted it like this". If I wanted to try to recover something, I knew I had to shut up about everything. Also because she was the best known in town. His father and brother had been in politics for years and everyone knew them. I stayed at home most of the winter. I had immense anger inside me. If I had a gun I would have gone out on the street and started shooting randomly, I wanted to physically harm people. I called the other three girls asking if I could go out with them but I quickly realized it was better to stay at home. The funny jokes I had always said had turned into razors. I offended everyone. Not being able to speak with Maria I treated badly anyone who was in contact with me. I didn't go out with anyone anymore. I locked myself in my shell spending time at home reading, thank God, there was the Internet and blogs. I just wanted to understand WHAT I DID HER. What was I wrong about. Meanwhile, one Sunday morning, in the square, I saw Maria talking to a boy I liked at that time and she knew it. After about ten days I saw this guy in church, he came up and said "I heard you go around saying that I like you (huh ??), you must know that you don't. I like another girl and you know why I like her? she is beautiful!". He laughed and walked away. What Maria said to her to make him say those words I'll never know. The whole winter passed. The whole following summer passed, September returned. I get a phone call, she was the oldest catechist in the group, 65 on paper, ten in the head. I've always loved her since I met her. I call her Tiziana. He told me he wanted to talk to me. I went to his house. She wanted me to be her assistant "I know that you and Maria have quarreled. She is speaking ill of you with all the catechists but I have learned to know you and I know that you are not as she describes you. I would like you with me. Maybe you will also find the way to make peace but you have to stay in the catechetical group ". I asked her what the hell Maria was saying about me. He replied "you better not know". I took some time to decide and finally accepted. Doing catechism with Tiziana was wonderful, it made me understand the value of a laugh. Every encounter with the children was fun and laughter. I

felt more relieved. And more positive. Unfortunately, at the meetings with the group leader and the other catechists, Maria continued to avoid me. Jeanne had been relieved of her post because one evening she had appeared at the church, on the altar, dressed in semi-transparent leopard-print leggings from which black splips could be glimpsed. And with a short shirt that left nothing to the imagination. You can dress however you want when you are elsewhere but if you are in a place of worship you have to respect that place, no matter what place of worship it is. May returned. The usual annual spiritual retreat of the catechists returned. One weekend he closed in a hostel talking about faith and peace in the world. On paper. I decided to go, always with the secret hope of finding a chance to talk to her alone. On the morning of the second day I was going to the reading room. I passed a room with the door open, someone was talking. I immediately recognized Maria's voice, her back was to me (I was standing at the door of the room I was about to enter), she was talking to two other catechists "Artemisia, leave her alone, she's AN UGLY SUBJECT". So he said, a bad subject. I was not a person or animal ... no, a subject. Inanimate. One of the two women saw me, motioned to Maria who turned around, her now usual look full of hatred directed at me appeared in her eyes, she screamed "what are you doing spying on? Go away!". I ran away, took refuge in the nearby chapel, luckily it was empty. I was crying. Finally in the evening I returned home. In the following September I told Tiziana that I no longer wanted to continue with her, I could no longer bear to see Maria. I had to stay away from her as much as possible. Later, I sometimes met her in the municipal villa. Me with other friends, she with another friend. When we met, she always looked down. But I no longer saw her smile. I lost that smile too. 23 years have passed since then. After years I have found a truly sincere friend. She is married but takes the time to go out with me. He is the same age as Maria but looks much much older. More than a sister, it reminds me of a mother. She gives me many small gifts, she also likes to photograph, before the covid we often went out to photograph, spending half days together. She is of Neapolitan origin, therefore cheerful and chatty like all Neapolitans. I feel good with her. He is always there when he "feels" that I need support. In July last year I moved here where she lives, leaving a country too full of bad memories. I know with absolute certainty that I will always be able to count on her. Unfortunately I can't love her. I can not anymore. I feel good with her when we see each other but I don't feel the need, almost physical, of her company as it happened with Maria. And it hurts me. But the betrayed trust does this damage. I don't know why I decided to write this, the story of Dean and Jerry awakened memories that I thought were buried. Here I can write it, on Facebook no. His two brothers still follow me, when they met me on the street (they or their wives) they always greeted me asking how I was. Once one of them gave me a historical book he had written about the town where I lived until last year. Writes from God! He invited me to his house, his wife offered me coffee and sweets, he gave me the book, I wanted to pay for it but he didn't. Nobody took the argument of the fight. I greeted them and left. @zivasanxiety @felinesetmilktea @prolen @jerrylevitch @solsikkepop Something happened once ... "paranormal" ... I am orphaned of a mother, she is orphaned of a father. I don't know whether to write it, I don't want you to think I'm crazy ...

[dxmedstudent]

DX update

So you may remember that I’ve been self-isolating for COVID-19 type symptoms. I’ve been looking after confirmed patients (albeit the mildly affected ones who are wardable), so it’s pretty likely this is the real deal, even thuogh it’s too late to test me, now. I’m doing OK - this is not a scary Boris-style update. I just thought since I haven’t spoken much that I should let you all know that I’m doing OK. My symptoms are mostly better - the myalgia and headaches have mostly died down, though they were pretty annoying at their worst. I described it as feeling like an Ent - waking up in the afternoon  was a pain because you just didn’t want to get out of bed if it made you feel sore and creaky. I only got up and about because I didn’t want a DVT.  The abdominal symptoms are bearable but still nigglingly present. I can’t wait for my tummy to stop feeling achey and upset - but since I have IBS I’m used to that enough that it’s no biggie.  I’m not feverish any more. I feel less SOB, though I only felt mildly so at times - like you’re a bit more out of puff than usual. The cough is mostly better, but sometimes it kicks off again pretty annoyingly.  I’ve walked out of this without my sense of smell, but that’s likely to come back, eventually. If this is all I have to sacrifice during this pandemic, then I’m lucky.  I feel generally less shitty -  I was feeling pretty sorry for myself at the beginning of the week but I feel much more myself, now. I’m still probably really tired - I haven’t had a chance to test my stamina since I got ill because all I’m allowed to do is stay in my room. But I have a feeling that when I go back to work I’m going to feel really wiped. What’s it like having likely coronavirus? In my case, like the flu. Shitty, but not life-threateningly so. And yet, the thing they don’t warn you about is how it’ll play on your mind - knowing that you might be one of the unlucky ones to get really sick. And knowing that you have to try your best not to infect anyone. One of my dear friends is also going through it, and the fear is real.  The worst thing is that usually when you’re ill people want to come round and make you feel better, but when you’re likely to have coronavirus that’s usually the worst thing that can happen. Unfortunately, you still have all the same instincts to seek love and reassurance that you usually have when you are sick - so you know that you should stay alone, but you might still crave being taken care of, or at least kept company. Because the people we love make us feel better.

Review: 2/10 stars. I would not recommend getting coronavirus. 2 stars because it scores you a few days off work, but you have to stay at home and you’ll probably feel miserable. I’ve been trapped in a flat I’m not fond of (It’s OK but not exactly home) for a week, even though the weather is nice and I’d love to go outside. Though fortunately I’m very well supplied with food and medicine and entertainment. I’ve been talking daily with family, the Guy and my friends, all of whom have done their best to entertain me and make me take care of myself. I’ve been sleeping a lot. A lot. I haven’t really had the energy to do anything but sleep and play games, TBH. When I’ve dragged myself out of bed to video chat with loved ones or take part in activities like playing games, or a virtual pub quiz with his friends, I’ve recuperated by zonking out the rest of the time. I might look quite functional at a distance, but that’s only because I’ve been sleeping almost all the rest of the time. My family call me every day to make sure I’m alive - they see the stories of nurses in their 30s suddenly dying, and it’s very real to them. I feel bad for them - if it was my kid sick with coronavirus I’d probably be scared, too. But I can’t do anything to take the worries away, when none of us know what the long term sequelae might be. I am glad they didn’t tell my relatives until I was much better - I really don’t want my entire extended social circle to think I’m dying, and there’s really no need for everyone to stress over me. My siblings have been encouraging my Animal Crossing obsession. It’s not th only game I’ve been playing in isolation, but it’s something that’s been easy to play even when I feel pretty rotten.  It happened to come out at just the right time to make me feel better, and that’s pretty lucky. My friends check in every day - they reminded me that I won our sweepstake on ‘who catches coronavirus first’ - sadly there is no prize unless you count myalgia as a win.  We spend the days sharing useful information about coronavirus, but also just trying to keep each other sane. Another of my friends is sick, and she seems to have gone down a bit worse than  I  have, so I hope she gets well soon. Colleagues are going down in their droves, according to our sickness reporting group, but I don’t know how unwell most of them are. I hope they are doing OK.  I haven’t managed to catch up with everyone I care about yet, because messaging gets kind of overwhelming when you don’t feel great. I worry about a lot of people, but I can’t keep up with everyone right now, so I’ve had to take my time and conserve my energy. Still, I’ve been checking in with as many friends as I can, and so far almost everyone is doing OK. I’m hoping to keep connected with as many of them as I can, and already planning things to do with them. The Guy checks up on how I’m feeling daily. He’s much more zen about things, and his approach is always “If I can’t change it, I should try not to stress about it”. Which means he took our separation better than me, at least when I was feeling sick. I think that’s partly because whilst  he hopes this may be over shortly, I know it’s going to be a long haul. Though he does have to tell me to take it easy and look after myself every day so I guess he’s not stress free XD I know this must be stressful for him, too but he can’t change the risks I’m facing. That said, he’s more the quiet, practical sort, anyway. So rather than moping, he suggests playing games or watching things together and invites me to whatever he’s doing with his friends - he did before, whenever I was around, but now that everything’s online it’s easier to be there. Now that his friends have transferred to roll20 under the lockdown, he’s invited me to join their DnD campaign because he knows how much I miss DnD - and him.  It’s funny how little things can make a big difference, when they are all you have to look forward to. I haven’t been looking forward to my days off, at all because I no longer had stuff to do - but he and I try to book activities on weekend days so it still feels special. My friends are a lot busier than his (because medics) so we haven’t done as much though we talk often, but I’m grateful that his friends have basically adopted me.  As a left over from my friendless days I always feel a bit awkward joining a group or making friends but they’ve been very welcoming and that makes me happy because I know it makes him happy. At first I felt like an impostor in all their group chats (guys, have you arrived in a relationship when you’re in nearly all the group chats? I’m pretty sure that’s a milestone or something), but I’m gradually accepting that they genuinely don’t mind me being there. Which is nice. They mean a lot to him, so I respect them and want to be a good friend, and I genuinely like them too.

I’m looking forward to going back to work. I’m not sure I’m 100% over this - I’m fine from a rules point of view, I’m just not 100% better. But I have to try and see how I get on. I need to be occupied and useful, because otherwise I’m just going to stress and sleep all day and feel mildly guilty about being sick. Which I’ve been told I should not be feeling, but there it is.  We’ll see how things go.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

If you have sent me an Ask in the last thirty-six hours or so, This post is for you.

I was almost entirely done with answering all your beloved messages, when Tumblr decided to crash. Lost all the paragraphs of my rambling (which is why I’m no longer taking chances and am typing this on Google Docs) and even worse, the Asks seem to have been eaten by Tumblr’s great void. They’re gone, and nothing I’ve tried seems to work to get them back. Thankfully, I’m fresh off of responding, so I’ll try to summarize with one big epic post. Apologies for the inconvenience and unusual style, blame the Tumblr Overlords. 

WARNING: If you don’t read the data-mines and don’t want spoilers, do not go beyond this point. This mainly concerns The Quidditch Cup. 

There were a couple of Asks about Ismelda, someone talked about the head-canon that she’s secretly blonde and dyes her hair. Which I agree with, and really like. It would tie in to how Ismelda saw Penny as being no different from her sister. It would be a sign of her trying to spite her parents and distance herself from her family, to the point of even looking like them. I also think it would echo with Beatrice and how she changed her look to reinvent herself and be less of a “Mini Penny.” Another message was talking about her parents, wondering why they would ever visit her at Hogwarts given how they were portrayed. After all, they’re not about to be the next Ethan Parkin, are they? Not going to turn around and be well-meaning, but oblivious. I think it’s far more likely that they would visit her sister at Hogwarts, and it would be pure chance that Ismelda was there at the same time - if there was indeed any overlap where both sisters were at school. But that’s the real question of the hour - just what is the sister like? After all, it’s not her fault that she’s the favorite, right? Newt Scamander was estranged from his brother, who was engaged to his ex-girlfriend. From that description alone, we might think he was awful, but he wasn’t. Theseus was genuinely caring, he just didn’t know how to connect with Newt. We might have a similar situation on our hands here. Or, who knows, the sister might be the “Dudley” to Ismelda’s “Harry.” She was compared to both Emily and Penny, if memory serves. But until such a time that we meet her, we have no way of knowing who she’s really more like. Psst, Jam City, you getting this down? This would be a great TLSQ, to have Ismelda come face to face with her sister. Could perhaps end with, oh I dunno, befriending her? Just a thought…

I saw another Ask talking about how Beatrice would go back and forth between MC and Jae during their detention and how adorable it was to see her all flustered and excited, how it looked like she was gushing to MC “He’s so dreamy” and things of the like. It’s making me wish they would come back to this sub-plot because it’s funny as hell and a good way, again, to tie in Ismelda. She also fancied someone she had no chance with, she was also jealous of another person. (Chiara might not actually have a thing with Jae, but if memory serves, Beatrice is shown to be jealous of them talking anyway.) 

There was an Ask that talked about punching Barnaby’s father in the face. Or at least, the idea of doing so. But regrettably, he is in Azkaban and it cannot be done. Well, maybe not by MC, but someone who was already there could do it. New head-canon, Sirius decked him on his way out. It happened, I don’t make the rules.

@guppygirl I read the first chapter of your fic! Do you know what you’ve done to me, do you know how many feelz it gave me to see Rowan alive and well and acting so sweet? You nailed their character and I love the inclusion of their parents! Maya’s reactions make just want to give her a hug. Everyone should check out the fanfic on her page, seriously!

I believe there was an Ask lamenting that the Festival TLSQ didn’t come out this week, and believe me friend, I’m right there clowning with you. It seems like every week now, we think, “Okay, this time it will come out, they can’t delay it anymore.” And we’re always wrong. Here I am just starting to worry that my far-fetched theory about them shelving it until next year because it’s no longer “seasonal” isn’t so far-fetched after all…

But the vast majority of messages that were lost were, as I’m sure you can guess, about the data-mined House Cup for Season 2. I wrote a lot about it and I do indeed have some thoughts and feelings. 

Before I get into anything else, can I just say...that first scene with Ethan where he meets MC. I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever dislike Skye. All it ever takes is one vulnerable moment to erase any doubts and have me back in her corner. And you cannot tell me that Ethan knowing everything about MC because “Isn’t this the best mate you always talk about?” Didn’t melt your heart or at least give you feelz. Think back to how hurt Skye was when MC befriended Rath - to the point of snapping a broomstick in half. This is just proof of what I’ve been saying. She has no social skills and hardly any friends. Of course she sees MC as her bestie. The poor thing, oh my god, it’s adorable...

Ethan Parkin….I’m not a fan, even now. As I heard, he’s not as bad as we all feared he would be. He definitely has his moments. Still...he’s still pretty annoying. Ethan is basically a less obnoxious version of Lockhart, who actually has the talent to back it up. But I didn’t like how he involved himself in the practice and took over deciding who should be leader. Seriously, if he knows the game this well then he should know we already have a leader assigned. That’s what a Captain is. He was quite rude to Orion and while his pressuring Skye might have been inadvertent, it was still his fault. He’s also an extremely violent Quidditch player, which I’m not a fan of (Although apparently Penny is? The fuck?) I get that he would never cross the line into cheating, but I’m not impressed by how he lied. Didn’t give his team credit. And seriously...is cheating morally inferior to harming another player in a “legal” way? I guess it’s just a Quidditch culture thing, but I’m not here for it. 

Orion’s reaction to Ethan, though? God I loved it. He took everything completely in stride, had the maturity to say that no, he was happy to learn from a Quidditch master. His concern wasn’t about his ego, it was about Skye’s feelings. Because once again, he’s the only one with the empathy to realize what she might be going through. Orion’s response was measured and thoughtful and god, I love him so much. Side note: Were they seriously debating whether or not keeping Ethan around to learn his mystery move was worth it, even if it was stressing Skye out? My dudes, this is the exact same mistake you made during the Rath TLSQ. Involving someone who doesn’t need to be involved, just for the sake of a potential advantage in a meaningless sports game, regardless of how much it will hurt someone who is supposed to be our friend. Screw that. 

Folks were talking about Erika Rath. Someone brought up how hilarious it was in a previous chapter to see Andre actually tell her to be quiet, and for her to do so. And yeah, I agree. It’s a testament to how close their friendship must really be (Sorry, Depressed Erika Anon) I mean, most people wouldn’t dare say that to her. And I don’t think she’d have such a calm and passive reaction to just anyone. It’s unconventional, but their relationship is a sweet one. Overall, they’re involving Rath more and I’m quite glad of it. Seeing her proud of MC is heartwarming. Seeing her become more of a main character is great - I mean, she is one of the main four, after all. Face Paint Kid is a background character, as much as I love him. Penny is only here to develop Skye, and Andre is only here to develop Rath. There was also an interesting comparison made between her and Ethan, about how they both play pretty violently. Still not a fan of this. Maybe that’s one of the reasons that I’m mostly indifferent to Rath. But I’m coming around on her. 

This was a lovely place to cap off Skye’s character arc. Seeing MC stand up to Ethan (although I wish you could be firm without having to say that stupid “You’re off the team, Parkin!” line) was especially cathartic, and it’s clear that Skye appreciates it. She’s happier by the end, and has actually communicated with her father. I would sincerely like it if Season 3 focused on, say, Murphy a little more. He hasn’t gotten any development since the first half of Season 1. Even Orion got some development in this TLSQ. But...make no mistake, we’re not done hearing about Skye. I know that no one wants to hear this, but...they slipped in that line about her wishing she could play Rath. She still hates her. That hasn’t been resolved. Oh well, at least it’s an opportunity to further flesh out Rath. There’s also the possibility that, if they do give focus to Orion, it might be that Season 3 is his last hurrah. I hope he stays for the entire story, but even if they don’t want to confirm character ages...he could very well graduate. If he does, there’s going to be a story-line about choosing his successor. And again, I know that nobody wants to see this happen, but...the only candidates who matter in the story are MC and Skye. So they could be pitted against each other again. But I hope that won’t happen.

Curse you, Tumblr. Oh well, it should be safe to send in Asks again because I’m quite literally going to copy them onto a Google Doc from now on just to be safe. If I missed out on one that you sent in, please feel free to let me know or re-send it. I’ve also seen people taking screenshots of their Asks and then responding to the picture instead of just responding outright. Might do that too...thank you for your patience, this has been a doozy. 

[renaroo]

Showing You Care

Disclaimer: Booster Gold, Blue Beetle, and associated characters are the creative property of DC Comics. Warnings: References to the 90s, Death of Superman, Comas Pairings: Boostle Rating: T Synopsis: Ted Kord is not taking care of himself in the aftermath of his confrontation with Doomsday, but he is trying to care for someone else. He’s just very bad at how he goes about it.

A/N: I was rereading 90s JLI mostly for references and inspiration with regards to Bea’s amazing relationship with Booster and for hilarious images of what everyone was wearing at the time, when I came across that period of time just after Doomsday and everyone’s more than a little beat up physically and spiritually, and seeing how defeated and angsty Booster was over not being able to be a superhero without his suit just struck a cord with me. Then it struck a Kord with me, so I wrote this silly bit of nothing. 

“So the thought never even crossed your mind before?”

Things were dark to the point of being positively grim in the laboratory. Of course, Ted told himself that it was simply how someone should expect a laboratory to look when deep underground in a fortress-like compound. It helped him think, helped him keep in touch with the side of him that was Ted Kord, Inventor, and away from the young adventurer and hero that Blue Beetle had flatly become over the years. 

That’s how his life always was, though — from a childhood between opposing parenting styles to a Jewish kid in a WASPy upper-class high school to a corporate laughing stock with a secret identity self-sabotaging all the things seemingly handed to him — pulled in two directions and never finding his footing for balance.

Brows furrowed in thought, Ted glanced over his shoulder in the dark and looked at the vague outline of his friend and fellow Justice Leaguer. 

Had the conversation taken place a few weeks ago, Beatriz would have no doubt lit up her spot in the lab herself, eccentric green flames licking at every piece of equipment around her. 

She hadn’t had that sort of control of her supernatural abilities for a while, though. And, despite his promises to her, Ted hadn’t done all that much to help her out. 

In Ted’s defense, there was a long list of needs he had from his friends that needed addressing.

Less in his defense, Ted could feel the cold, calming relief of being at least a little bit responsible for some of his friends not being in the field for a little longer. Not getting hurt. Not getting dead. 

If Superman could die, who among them was safe anymore?

“The thought of what?” he asked, in spite of himself. This was not really a conversation he was wanting to have. Not with Bea. Not with anybody. “Branching outside of the League?” 

He was snappier then he meant to come across, frazzled by the thought. 

When that raw nerve was exposed, he liked to direct himself to thoughts of Captain Traitor, but the unfortunate part of having these conversations with Bea was that she had a finger on the pulse of League gossip. And it didn’t take a super-spy to remember it wasn’t that long ago since Ted was brawling with Booster on the floor of the Bug over his departure from the League.

They were good after that. Again. Maybe. 

It would have been petty for Ted to hold a grudge still, months after everything was already rectified and the League whole. After they had stood side by side against Doomsday together and were torn apart only to be back at it again.

Almost.

“Not leave the League,” Bea soothed, walking around the lab, toward the walls and feeling around. “Where’s the light switch?”

“It’s not a switch, it’s…” Ted stopped working on the monitor he was repairing and looked around his control panel. With a press of a button, the lights in his lab came on with a flourish. “Ta-da.”

Bea turned and looked at him expectantly, but her attitude seemed to shift in an instant upon making contact. “Jesus, Beetle.”

“What?” he asked her, immediately looking down to his sweater for the ketchup stain from lunch. He’d hoped he got most of it off. 

“When’s the last time you shaved?” she asked him.

“I’m thinking of growing a beard,” he answered without a moment’s thought. He reached for the wadded up napkin laying next to the Big Belly Burger trash from his lunch. When he began rubbing at the ketchup stain, Bea, who had somehow closed the distance between them without Ted even realizing it, grabbed his wrist and wrenched it away.

“You are not, you’re just not taking care of yourself,” she said firmly. “I bet you wore that shirt yesterday, too.”

“You have no proof, Fire,” Ted sniffed down his nose at her. 

Her eyes sharpened and she tightened her grip on his wrist. “Believe it or not,” she continued, “I’m not pointing any of this out to make you feel bad or to make you question your spot on the League.”

“Oh, well, since those are the only options I can think of, you’re doing a pretty bad job at whatever this is, then,” Ted snapped at her. 

“I’m worried about Booster,” she finally announced.

Now that hit Ted like a twenty-pound weight thrown directly at his slightly increasing gut. He looked at her, giving up his meager resistance on her hold, and allowed his emotions to eek through with a strangled, “What? What’s wrong?”

“And you,” Bea finished lamely. As if Ted could share in any concerns for himself in the light of something being seriously wrong with Booster.

“Then why are we worrying about hypotheticals here? Spill it,” Ted demanded. 

“Fine, jackass,” Bea hissed back, shoving his wrist and everything attached to it back into Ted’s chest. “Ever since Doomsday shredded Booster’s suit and rendered him powerless, he’s been stomping around the League with almost as much self-loathing and assholery as you have down here in the basement.”

“It’s a laboratory,” Ted whined back. And it was a laboratory — it was part of the incentives package from Max to get him to sign back up, and it was also the one place he could think and tinker and be left alone to wallow in the fact that he woke up from a coma into a whole new, whole worse world. A world without Superman, without hope, without faith that superheroes like them could fill the tremendous hole that a Superman had left behind. 

And, despite himself, Ted woke up with a lot of those same feelings as the public at large. 

And since Ted hadn’t so much as checked the fitting of his Blue Beetle costume since he woke up from a coma, it did place him much closer to that civilian perspective than anyone else in the League had been for a while. 

“And while I sure as hell can agree that we’ve been through enough in all of this to deserve some bad attitudes to a point,” Bea continued, “I think the reason the two of you are quite so obnoxious is because of the separation anxiety.”

Ted squinted at her, not following. “Separation anxiety… from the League?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

Beatriz put the heels of her palms against her eye sockets and looked like she was about to scream. “Idiotas!” She hissed between her teeth. “From each other, Beetle. From each other.”

He looked longways at her, assessing her for some signs of her own mental breakdown or distress from mind control or brainwashing, and then turned back to his monitor. “Are you really so bored up in the embassy right now that you’re trying to dig into trouble?”

“I’m going to torch you and this whole stupid lab,” Bea warned.

Before he could help himself, Ted snorted and put on his soldering goggles to get back to work. “Yeah? With what powers?”

He knew he had to be out of practice because he saw the punch coming from a mile away and still didn’t have the time or wherewithal to block or get out of the way before Bea sent him careening into the control panel next to him. 

Blinking a few times, Ted looked at the shaking figure of his friend, noted that steam was quite literally perspiring from her exposed shoulders and neck, then took a moment to reassess whether or not his jaw was attached to his skull. It was. 

“Okay,” he responded, “Ow.”

“Do you have any idea how hard the two of you make it to talk to you about anything that matters?” Bea demanded from him. “My god, I have no idea how you two have been together this long. The second the door closes and it’s just the two of you in a room, does it just immediately fall into unending fart jokes and nothing gets done?”

Realizing Bea had no intention of offering him help up, Ted pushed off from the control panel and rubbed his no doubt reddening cheek. “Bea, you’ve known Booster and me for years by now.” He paused, mostly for dramatic effect but also to glance and make sure that she wasn’t close enough for a second shot before he could duck away. “Of course that’s what happens the moment Booster and I are alone in a room.”

“I’m trying to help you!” Bea snarled, throwing up her arms. 

“You sure have a funny way of showing it!” Ted yelled back. “And, besides, help what? I’m on the bench until I complete physical therapy. Booster’s benched until he has a solution for his wrecked suit.”

“A solution you’re supposed to be working on,” Bea reminded him. The fact that her own benching was also reliant on Ted goes unspoken, but there was a prickling feeling in Ted’s neck that it was there, under all the layers being hidden by concern for Booster and Ted. “Have you even looked at his suit?”

Ted squinted at her. “Yeah. It’s shredded.”

“And your solution to that is…”

“Working on it,” Ted said so automatically it was as if Booster was in the lab having the conversation again. At least Bea hit him. Booster last time didn’t even bother to turn the lights on.

Just a where’s my super suit and gone the second he wasn’t getting the answer he wanted. Like a child.

“You know what I think, Beetle?” Bea began, slowly, calculated.

“Nope,” Ted answered, running his hands through his equipment for the exact pliers he needed for the monitor. 

“I think you’re keeping Booster on the bench as long as you can by not doing a damn thing,” Bea said lowly. “And I think you know that the second Booster figures out that it’s what you’re doing, he’ll blow the top off the whole damn embassy.”

Sick of playing the games, of obfuscating, Ted looked up at her, glowering. “So?”

“That’s not going to fix anything,” she warned him. “The only way you two can stop this and save your relationship is if you talk to each other about it. Not manipulate things behind the scenes to get what you want.”

“So my friends aren’t getting killed out there for people who don’t believe in them for just a little longer!” Ted growled. “I think Booster’ll live. And our relationship—“ 

The word caught in Ted’s throat. Every emotion was so high, so heartfelt before it that he hadn’t even felt it coming until it was there. And then it was ringing in his ears. He choked a bit, as if it was a Big Belly fry that went down the wrong way, didn’t settle well with him.

If Bea noticed, she was too busy with his other charges. “That isn’t your call, Beetle. God damn it, I felt this was what was going on but I just. I didn’t know for sure until I got down here. And look at you, falling apart, you know it’s not going to fix any of this. You know you’re not supposed to make these decisions on your own!”

Ted grabbed onto the corner of his work table and felt like he needed to catch his breath still. “Wait, wait, hold up!” he called out, using a free hand to try to stress the request. It didn’t do a whole lot of good.

“You’ve had to have noticed it if I’ve noticed that Booster is so wrapped up in getting back out there that he has no sense of personhood outside of his suit,” Bea continued to rant, her hands firing off and twisting in the air with nearly the same speed as her mouth. “And by god, if he tells Skeets to scan his suit for options one more time, I think the little robot’s going to fry him!”

Unable to take it any longer, Ted looked to Bea wildly and smacked the table to get her attention. “Now hold on! You’re firing off some pretty hefty accusations here!” he roared at her, accurately worked up for the circumstances.

She stopped and gave him a look over. “What? You think the little robot’s got enough money to sue for libel?”

“Not about Skeets! About Booster and me!” Ted squeaked, though he liked to reflect on it being a manlier squeak than most.

It was Bea’s turn to squint back at Ted. “What? You don’t think Booster has too much of himself wrapped up in being a superhero?” 

“I think you’ve got too much of Booster and I wrapped up with each other,” he growled out. He scoffed. “Relationship. We’re friends.”

Even though Ted was nowhere close to her, Bea staggered back like he had finally punched her back. “What?”

Ted was regaining his composure and able to stand on his own two legs again without leaning on the table. He crossed his arms and looked at Bea confidently, even as the fluttering in his stomach and chest felt like it was going to leave him swaying the moment he no longer had to make a point.

Many emotions seemed to run through Bea before she glanced around and then back at Ted. Quietly, almost worriedly, she asked, “Does Booster know?”

“Yes!” Ted yelled, though a pang of Wait does he? ran through him with a worrying bout of second-guessing everything he thought he knew about himself and his closest friend. 

Bea seemed genuinely shook as she stood quietly for a moment, contemplating. She then shook her head in disbelief and glanced at Ted. “Well, it doesn’t matter how close you two really are—“

“It matters!” Ted squeaked again. That time felt significantly less manly. 

“Booster needs to hear from someone who loves him that he’s got more than a suit and superhero gig to him,” Bea said more confidently. “He needs to hear it and he needs to see that someone cares so damn much about him that they’re willing to try to stop him from doing something stupid. Like what you’re doing, Beetle. Though, and let’s be clear here, the way you’re doing it is tremendously stupid itself.”

“How are you so good at making everything an accusation?” Ted sighed, rubbing at his eyes. 

There was a more tired look at Beatriz’s expectant glare when Ted glanced back at her. She took a deep breath and turned to walk out. “Talk to Booster,” she ordered him on her way out. “And while you’re at it, get some sunlight. And a razor. And a shirt.”

Ted was pretty sure no one had mothered him with contempt and pity in equal amounts since his own mother had died. 

***

He had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

That wasn’t entirely true. Reclusive as he might have become in the days after waking from a Doomsday-induced coma, Ted still understood the basics of the Justice League’s base and its layout. He technically understood that the upper levels were filled with space and amenities for his colleagues. 

And he also understood that it was the most likely place he could find Booster.

Beyond those fairly basic facts, though, Ted had little to no idea what he was doing. And he could sense his creeping insecurities clawing their way back up to the forefront of his mind. 

Therefore, in a far more literal sense, he had no idea what he was doing.

Which made it strangely inconvenient when he made it into the gym and found Booster on a treadmill, his golden robotic companion floating alongside with a countdown timer occupying where Skeets’ frontal display normally was. 

Booster was so in the moment, so occupied by his running, that he didn’t seem to notice Ted in the doorway at all. He was gazing straight ahead, cheeks dimpled as his highly controlled breathing rushed air in and out of his mouth. 

This must be a fairly intense workout routine, or at least one Booster had been at for a while because Ted knew it took pushing Booster quite a bit for him to get the sheen of sweat that covers his skin. Skin that was highly visible considering Booster was in training shorts and gym shoes without anything else but a headband.

If it were a normal occasion, Ted would already have a couple of dozen jokes at the ready for the headband alone. It was doing nothing to keep back the waterfalls of sweat at that point and seemed mostly to be an aesthetic choice to make up for Booster’s serious lack of recent haircuts.

He had a mane that would make Fabio jealous, that’s for sure. 

Ted considered that, all of it, as he watched awkwardly from afar, only to feel an unnatural heat build-up from within his unseasonal turtleneck. Relationship. God, he could have killed Bea for doing that to him. For making him think in such ways he never would have.

He didn’t want to think of his best friend in these ways.

A little too late, Ted realized he also shouldn’t creepily watch his best friend work out more-than-half-naked in the training room either. But that was something, at least, he could confront head-on. 

Clearing his throat and making a big production out of stepping into the gym, Ted hoped that it was more than enough to make up for his shadowy leering. Though, if it was, it still wasn’t enough to get Booster to slow down on the treadmill.

Booster did glance to Skeets’ timer and then looked over to Ted, though. So he knew Ted was in there. That had to count for something.

“Hey, Boost,” Ted tried instead. He said it so casually, so naturally, that it took a full moment for him to wonder if it was too much or not. To have a nickname for your friend’s nickname. Was that too familiar? So what if it was? 

He was about to have a panic attack and he couldn’t even explain to himself why.

“Did you get something up with the suit?” Booster asked immediately, his eyes darting toward Ted.

And, oh, did that not burn Ted up immediately. For a multitude of reasons. The rudeness, though, was taking front and center, though. 

“No, I told you I’d let you know as soon as there was any progress,” Ted countered, sounding nearly as wounded as he felt. 

The moment Skeets’ timer hit zero-zero-zero-zero, Booster pushed something on the treadmill that seemed to lower the speed. His high-intensity run began to decrease to a jog. He gripped to the side handles as adjusted with the machine. 

“What’re you doing out of the lab?” Booster asked just as snappishly as his first question. He was so focused on Ted’s face that Skeets flew off to the side of the gym without even informing either of them.

That time, Ted could not resist the way his eyes rolled for the back of his head. He crossed his arms defensively. “I’m allowed to leave the lab any time I want,” he hissed back.

“Oh, are you?” Booster countered, slowing to a walk. “Guess that explains the fast-food wrappers I keep finding down there.”

Ted’s head snapped toward Booster, his blood rushing to his face and making him feel immediately hot across his cheeks and forehead. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Why are you trying to gut me?”

“Why are you trying to avoid doing anything actually helpful around here lately?” Booster snapped back, jumping off the treadmill before it was finished up with his cooling-off period. He didn’t even glance in Skeets’ direction as the tiny robot flew in from the side with a towel at the ready. 

“Doing anything actually helpful--” Ted repeated, sputtering over the words. “Are you shitting me right now? I’ve been rewiring this entire facility top to bottom and replacing all the standard equipment with updated models. And that’s with doctor’s orders to take it easy with my fatigue.” Then, because he was on a tear and couldn’t stop himself, he looked Booster up and down. “What’ve you done with all your time?”

Booster’s mouth snapped shut and his eyes darkened as he looked at Ted. 

It didn’t take an expert in Booster Gold readings to know he was beyond pissed. 

“I’m doing my best until you get in gear and fix my shit,” Booster snarled back. “Which, by the way, if you can’t then you need to tell me so I can find someone who can. And I needed to know yesterday.”

“Someone else more qualified to patch it up in this century?” Ted mocked. “Good luck, pal! I’ve helped you with it more than anyone else, and I’m telling you it’s positively trashed! It’s not going to protect you out there.”

Angrily, Booster threw up his arms. “I don’t need protection! I just need to be able to be a hero again!”

“If you need the suit to be a hero, Booster, then you weren’t really a hero to begin with!” Ted erupted at last.

Immediately, the silence became deafening as they stared at each other in shock. 

Ted felt like he swallowed an entire lemon in a single go, his whole mouth dried up and his face recoiling back in shock from his own viciousness. He wasn’t even sure where the words came from, they were so callous and cruel. So biting. 

Booster was broodingly quiet for a moment, not looking Ted in the face as if the image of him alone was painful. Instead, he looked to the floor or the equipment. He yanked the towel off of Skeets and began roughly rubbing it over his face and neck. 

“Jesus christ,” Ted gasped at himself before dragging both of his hands down his face. “I have no idea why I just… Booster, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Sounds like you did,” Booster spat back venomously before balling up the sweat-soaked towel and throwing it right for Ted’s head. “Good talk, Beetle. I’ll stop pestering you about my suit. I’m sending it to STAR.”

“Okay, stop!” Ted growled, yanking the towel off his face and throwing it to the side. “Booster, hold on! Let me apologize!”

When Booster shoulder checked Ted on the way out of the gym, he hit with enough force to push Ted into the wall and took the breath out of him. Apparently Booster had been making a point of hitting the gym for more than just cardio in the past weeks since he lost his suit.

The smart thing to do, based on all of Ted’s long history with Booster, was to back off and let the other hero burn through his temper, work up a good mad without Ted anywhere in the vicinity.

But Ted was apparently a glutton for punishment that day. 

He grabbed Booster’s wrist and held it with a vice grip, wrenching Booster back and to turn him around to face him again. 

“Don’t touch me!” Booster growled, his mouth turning up in a snarl. 

“I said to hold on!” Ted yelled back. “I’m sorry, I’m a dumbass! I don’t know what I was trying to say there, but it wasn’t what came out, okay? Let me just…” He stopped himself and shook his head. He didn’t know what he was trying to accomplish with any of it. He’d made such a good mess from the start. 

“Just, what, Ted? Continue to prove that you think I’m some idiot blowhard just like every other person thinks?” Booster demanded. He pulled his hand out from Ted’s grip at last and rubbed his wrist. “I don’t need to hear it. I’ve heard enough of it, thanks!”

“I know you’re not like that, you big idiot, that’s why I’m scared!” Ted exploded, throwing his own arms into the air. “You’re such a hero -- you’re so dedicated to it -- that you’re going to go flinging yourself out into danger the very second I have a prototype that isn’t even tested yet! You’re going to try to save someone, try to prove yourself, and while you’re doing it, I’ll have fucked something up and it’ll fail you and you’re going to die, Booster! You hear me? You’ll get yourself killed!”

Booster stared at him, the anger not dropping even an iota. “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence!”

Ted let out a frustrated croaking noise from deep within his throat and rubbed at his face. “Goddamn it! Why can’t I say any of this right?”

While Ted was working through his moment, though, Booster was taking a step back, his brows knitted together in thought. Then, crestfallen, he shook his head at Ted. 

“You haven’t been working on the suit on purpose,” he surmised.

Closing his eyes, Ted released a deep sigh. “I was trying to come up here to, uh, to talk to you about that. Talk to you about a lot of things relating to that. Because I was talking to Bea and she was worried about you, and me. And it was a lot of stuff that I think we have been sitting on and not dealing with since I woke up.”

Booster stared at him. “Sitting on and not dealing with… like my suit maybe?” his anger was flaring again.

Looking Booster in the eyes, Ted felt his chest clenching tightly. It was painful to see that anger directed his way -- sure if he pranked Booster or poked his buttons on purpose that was one thing. But it was anguish and hurt under that anger that was all radiating directly from Booster to Ted. And he deserved it. 

“You’ve got every right to be angry with me,” Ted admitted. “But, goddammit, Booster, hear me out here. I almost died, okay? Some monster out of nowhere came through and busted my head in without a second thought. And I wake up, weeks later, to learn that the same monster that almost finished me off killed Superman. And the first thing my best friends want me to do when I get back to the land of the living is to help them put themselves back on the battlefield? To get themselves killed?”

For a moment, Ted couldn’t tell if his words got to Booster or not. He was glaring at the ground before he snapped back up and pointed at Ted’s chest. “You almost died because I wasn’t able to do anything to help,” Booster growled. “I was there and I watched you hang onto life by a thread, and I couldn’t even get into the fight, couldn’t save the leader of our team, because all I am at the end of the day is a bunch of fancy gadgets I didn’t even make myself. And now you want me to sit on the sidelines and do nothing again?”

“I want you to stay alive, you jackass!” Ted yelled, smacking Booster’s hand down. “I don’t care if you never want to talk to me again afterward! If I kept you alive then I can be happy!”

“Superman died!” Booster burst out like it was an argument or a point or anything really.

“I don’t care who else dies! I won’t let you be one of them!” Ted cried out. 

Booster’s eyes widened slightly, taken aback. He looked Ted up and down as if expecting to see the outline of a Starro underneath his turtleneck. Then he squinted in confusion. 

Ted, for his part, felt like his heart was going to race directly out of his chest and had to put a hand on it to uselessly attempt to calm it down. He scowled at himself. Still going smooth as desert sand, the two of them. 

“Look, I don’t know if what’s wrong with us right now can be fixed by screaming matches in the League gym or not, but I feel like we’re distinctly lacking progress,” Ted noted out loud. He forced himself, with some struggle, to meet Booster’s gaze. “Can we try to talk at normal volumes?”

“You’re the one who keeps screaming and cutting like a knife,” Booster only partially joked. “But, sure, we can try the adult thing.”

“Ugh, the thing I’m worst at,” Ted sighed, pinching at the bridge of his eyes. He looked apologetically to Booster. “Booster, I know you’re a hero, and worst yet you’re a despicably good hero when it comes down to it. Which is why I knew that you weren’t kidding when I was in a hospital bed still and you were already talking about fixing up and updating your equipment. I’ve been a hero for years, and that’s easily the closest to death I have ever been, and here’s my perfectly heroic best friend ready to get back off the bench.”

“I’m a quarterback, I do terrible at sitting on the bench,” Booster huffed, a genuine smirk sneaking into his expression.

Ted shook his head testily. “And, as always, I must remind you that I played chess in high school and that metaphor is so beyond me it’s sad.”

“It’s really sad,” Booster agreed. He paused and looked off, a hand coming up and cover his mouth in thought. “I really did ask you to fix it while you were in your hospital bed, didn’t I? Wow, yeah. That was real bad of me.”

“It normally wouldn’t be a big deal, but,” Ted stopped for a moment and took stock of what he was saying. Thinking before talking. He needed to have been doing that from the start. Even with his heart abnormally racing around Booster for seemingly no reason. “Look, I don’t think it’s like what Bea was saying, but you are easily the most important person to me. I can’t fathom anything bad happening to you, and that’s what I feel like is going to happen if I screw up your suit. Which I feel like I will because that’s just superheroic to a T, isn’t it?”

“You wouldn’t screw up my suit, that’s why you’re the only person I really trust with it,” Booster replied flippantly, even flicking his wrist as he did so. He hesitated, though, and looked back at Ted seriously. “What do you mean what Bea was saying, though?”

“Oh,” Ted replied, heat rushing back in his face. “It’s really dumb. Stupid. Honestly, really nothing. But she was saying that you and I were acting, well, like kids having tantrums because we weren’t spending any time together and it was giving us, uh, separation anxiety.”

Booster looked at Ted curiously before snorting. “Like chihuahuas left in an apartment too long?”

Laughing, Ted ducked his head down. “Y-yeah. She was, uh, worried about our…” he trailed off, throat tightening at even the notion of repeating it. Does Booster know?

Tilting his head, Booster looked at Ted curiously. “Our what?”

Ted wished he could just go ahead and swallow his entire foot, get it over with. He seemed to like it in his mouth so much lately anyway. 

“Our, uh,” Ted, despite himself, caught Booster’s bright blue eyes with his own again. His entire face was threatening to combust. “Our relationship.”

“Relationship?” Booster repeated. The significance seemed lost on him for a moment. His head tilted to the other side in thought and then he looked away in thought. Slowly, though, a hint of red began to grow from Booster’s cheeks, his ears, and even down to his shoulders. He let out a strained laugh. “I mean, we’re not in-in a relationship that way, I thought.”

Blanching, Ted nearly hit the wall behind him again backing up. “What do you mean thought!?” he squeaked out.

“I don’t know! I thought we weren’t? You’re here telling me my death will be worse than Superman’s!” Booster yelled back in response, his own body going stiff as a board as he backed up, too.

“I’m allowed to feel that way without it being that way!” Ted countered. He then reached to his head and yanked on his turtleneck. “Stupid, fucking, heated, useless--”

“What way?” Booster pressed, quiet and thoughtful.

“Oh, god, can we go back to fighting?” Ted begged. 

“We may, depending on how this goes!” Booster said. His eyes flickered with something meaningful and unknowable at Ted. “Ted, have we been in a relationship this whole time?”

“If you have to ask, the answer’s probably no,” Ted said, chin down as he glared angrily at his turtleneck. Like it was the cause of everything terrible that had happened that day so far. 

“Probably?” 

Groaning, Ted scrubbed at his face instead of his turtleneck. He was about to have survived Doomsday only to give in to the elements and melt into a puddle right there in the League’s own property. “I never thought we were. But, when I look at all the things I count as having in a relationship? Like all the time, and the close vicinity, and the -- you know, all the stuff -- when I look at it scientifically, it would appear to most people that we, uh. I can just see where it came from.”

Booster looked unmoved. “What all stuff?”

“Don’t make me--” Ted sighed and rotated one of his hands in a weak gesture. “Booster, the feelings stuff. I care about you, like a lot. To an insane and scary degree. To the point that I do crazy, Mad Scientist Kord things that make no sense to anybody but me. Like sabotaging your chances of going back out there in the field because I’m so goddamn terrified that I’ll lose you.”

Squinting at him, Booster folded his arms across his broad chest. “You’re, what, hurtful because you love me?”

“I mean, statistically looking at my history, it’s just about the only way I know how to love people,” Ted attempted to joke. Badly. “Or I’m just really scared of this side of me and didn’t acknowledge it until about three minutes ago. That, too.”

“This is, by far, the weirdest conversation we’ve had,” Booster noted, almost transfixed. 

“I mean, I’m sure we have had to have weirder at some point,” Ted muttered only to go stiff as Booster came in closer. “W-what are you doing?”

Ted wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was not the huge, sweaty embrace of his best friend who he had spent a few weeks sabotaging. Yet, as he was pulled tightly into Booster, he couldn’t help himself from pulling back, from wrapping his arms around Booster and breathing him in. 

Somehow he had forgotten how good it felt to just touch someone else, to hug someone and mean it in a way that was so intimate and close. He felt lighter against Booster. 

“I love you, too, Ted, you big idiot,” Booster huffed against the top of Ted’s head, his breath tickling the hairs over Ted’s ear. “I’m sorry I’m bad at saying it, too. But I absolutely can’t lose you again, either. And-and I need my suit. I can’t protect you without it.”

Blinking against Booster’s chest, Ted can feel that Booster’s heart is as panicked and erratic as his own. 

“Maybe we both should get therapy first,” Ted mused.

“Maybe,” Booster agreed, finally letting Ted go so that they could look at each other. “We should probably, uh, process this thing first, though. Like. We just found out we’ve been kind of married for the past five years.”

Ted went rigid. “You think it’s only been five?” 

Booster burst into laughter, which Ted couldn’t keep himself from joining in on. They leaned against each other, slapping arms around each other’s necks for balance as their foreheads rested together. They were ridiculous and sophomoric, and almost everything the others had said about them -- especially that part. 

But a weight Ted didn’t know he had been carrying was finally gone, and for the first time in a long time, he realized that perhaps even more than wanting Booster safe, he’d wanted him happy for a long time. At the very least since Ted had woken up from his brush with death. 

And, if they were basically in a relationship anyway, he supposed that it was only right that they work on making each other happy anyway. 

[toxoiddiamond]

T H E B A S I C S Given Name: Seong Ki-mun Nicknames: He briefly went by the name Kyle in middle school because he was tired of people teasing him about his “weird” name. But by the time he got to high school he didn’t care anymore and was back to going by his real name. (He also started purposely mispronouncing the names of anyone who made fun of his name– think A-a-ron.) Age: 30 Birthday: November 23rd Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius Birthplace: Anaheim, California Current Location: NYC, New York Speaks: English, Korean (fluently, but his family teases him about his “American accent” all the time) Dominant Hand: Right Education: He got his Associates Degree from LaGuardia Community College, then transferred to NYU and got his Bachelors in Arts & Sciences. He cheerfully refers to college as the most money he’s ever wasted in his life. Occupation: Teaching Assistant in the English department at CUNY Hunter College. He mostly assists with the Writing and Poetry classes, but also helps out with various Literature classes and acts as a substitute teacher within the department if a professor is out sick or anything. He sometimes ends up being treated more like a personal assistant– sent out for coffee or lunch, asked to type up notes or sort paperwork, but he doesn’t mind. Vehicle: Ki-mun’s aunt and uncle bought him a white 1998 Honda Prelude when he graduated from high school, and he still has it to this day. He doesn’t drive much since it’s so impractical in the city, but he likes having it around as an option for longer trips, road trips, etc. Worldly Possessions: Tons of random art supplies– pencils, charcoal, sketchbooks, clay, paints, brushes, etc. Notebooks completely filled with poetry (with many of the poems scribbled out). A fancy smart TV. A bunch of bean bag chairs. A super nice tablet (Ki-Mun may have a bit of an obsession with having the latest technology~). Tons of socks– like, way too many socks. He has an entire dresser drawer just for his socks. Pet(s): A super adorable calico munchkin kitty named Bugsy.

A P P E A R A N C E Height: He says 5’8”, but he’s closer to 5’7”. Hair: Dark black. Very full, soft and shiny. Always seems to fall perfectly into place even with the bare minimum of effort. He usually just puts a bit of pomade in it and tousles it. Facial Hair: His facial hair is very patchy, so he doesn’t bother growing it out. Eye Colour: Brown Skin Tone: A makeup artist friend of his, Andi, occasionally asks to put makeup on Ki-mun as practice (and also for fun) and has informed Ki-mun that his skin tone is “warm beige.” She also informed Ki-mun that he is an Autumn– Ki-mun doesn’t know what that means, but he likes to share it as a fun fact anytime he has to introduce himself to a group of students. Clothing: Ki-mun dresses like a pretty typical hipster, honestly. Skinny jeans, oversized sweaters, band tees, peacoats, cardigans, leather jackets, etc. He usually wears contacts, but occasionally wears big ol’ glasses. Distinguishing Marks: Does being adorable count as a distinguishing feature? Face Claim: Justin H Min

H E A L T H Physical Health: Not bad. Ki-mun was born HIV positive, but has been taking antiretroviral medications since he was a kid. At this point, his viral load is basically non-existent and he is considered to be in remission, with a very good prognosis. Because of the medication he takes, his immune system is not the best, and he is much more susceptible to getting sick as a result. During cold and flu season, Ki-mun will often wear a mask when he’s out in public– his aunt and uncle ingrained that habit in him from a young age (and also wore masks themselves so he wouldn’t feel like the odd one out). Physical Abilities/Limitations: He’s decent at almost anything to do with art, but is especially good at drawing with charcoal. He also likes doing speed-sketches, figure sketches, etc. He is also weirdly good at baseball, and plays on the New York City Metro Baseball Team as part of the NY Blacksox during the season (June through August). Also, he is great at tossing food directly into people’s mouths– popcorn, M&Ms, etc. He hardly ever misses. Addictions: Definitely caffeine, but no serious addictions. Allergies: He gets a mild rash when he eats or touches strawberries. Mental Health: It’s not horrible? It’s not great, but not horrible. As much as he denies it, Ki-mun is pretty lonely, partly because he has such a hard time letting anyone in. He’s not the most trusting person, and tends to keep people at arms’ length until he’s sure they can be trusted. At the moment, he only has one person in his life that he would actually consider a friend. Everyone else is just an acquaintance to him. Ki-mun has sort of “accepted” the idea that he may end up being alone forever, even though that’s not really what he wants.

H I S T O R Y Summary: Ki-mun was born in Anaheim, California, and got off to a pretty rough start. His mother had AIDS, and unfortunately, it was passed on to Ki-mun. He was fine and had no symptoms for a few months, but eventually began to get sick, though thanks to swift treatment, he recovered quickly and the HIV never progressed. As Ki-mun got older, his mother’s health began to deteriorate, until finally they moved in with Ki-mun’s aunt and uncle so they could help take care of her. She eventually was bedridden and had to stay in the hospital full time. One of Ki-mun’s earliest memories is of visiting his mother in the hospital for the last time, which is absolutely one of his worst memories. After his mother passed away, Ki-mun’s aunt and uncle took him in and raised him as one of their own children. They love him like crazy and were amazing parents to him, and Ki-mun has always been grateful to them– not only for raising him, but for loving him as much as they love their actual children and never making him feel like he mattered less. He had a relatively happy childhood in spite of everything. After high school, Ki-mun decided to move to New York– he wanted a change of pace, and wanted a chance to start over and reinvent himself. He found a job and began taking classes at the community college, managed to get his associate’s degree after a year and a half, and transferred to NYU to get his Bachelors. Ki-mun was a very dedicated student and didn’t spend a lot of time getting to know any of his fellow classmates, going to parties, making friends, etc. Still, he ended up being roped into a friend/study group, which is where he ended up meeting Spencer. Spencer was the first person that Ki-mun had serious feelings for. They were friends for the better part of two years, each attracted to the other but both too nervous to say anything. Finally, a week before graduation, Ki-mun got up the courage to confess how he felt, and they became an official couple for all of one day. Unfortunately, once Ki-mun explained to Spencer about his diagnosis, Spencer flew off the handle and accused Ki-mun of being deceptive, being a liar, being manipulative, etc. He told Ki-mun he was disgusting and to never contact him again, and that was that. Shortly after Ki-mun’s heart was smashed to pieces, he packed up everything he owned and moved to a new area of the city, wanting to put at least a little bit of distance between himself and his old friend group. It was here that he met Andi and became close friends with her, and also found a job at CUNY Hunter College. Although Ki-mun feels that his life is generally good and happy– he enjoys his job, has a really good friend and coworkers he likes, he has gotten really into his poetry lately and has been reading it at open mic nights– he can’t help but feel that something is missing from his life. Job History: He worked in his aunt and uncle’s restaurant from ages fifteen to eighteen. When he moved to New York, he did a little bit of job hopping before finally settling on a job at a grocery store– he stayed at that job until he graduated from college and took his job at CUNY Hunter. Fondest Memories: Despite the fact that his childhood was pretty rough at times, Ki-mun has a lot of great memories as well. Family trips to Korea, various birthdays, his graduation day. He also has fond memories of his job at the grocery store– as much as he didn’t enjoy the work, he really liked his coworkers. Plus, all the various spur-of-the-moment adventures Andi has dragged him into. Worst Experiences: His mother dying when he was four years old. Finally getting to be with the person he’d been hung up on for two years, only to be broken up with after less than a day.

C O M M U N I C A T I O N Speech Pace/Style: Sarcastic. Often sounds like he might be annoyed. He speaks in monotone with most people, even when he’s not in a bad mood, so people often think he’s angry or doesn’t like them (and to be fair, they are sometimes correct). If he’s talking to a friend, he’ll definitely be more animated and not so grumpy. And if, by chance, he’s talking to someone he’s attracted to (*coughDODGERcough*) then he’ll get a little tongue-tied, like he wants to flirt but he doesn’t really know how. Accent: American. When he speaks Korean, his American accent does come through a bit, something his family likes to tease him about. Favorite Phrases or Words: When he’s done listening to someone and wants them to stop talking to him/stop telling him a boring story, he will just say “cool” in the most monotone voice he can manage. It usually works. Usual Curse Words: He says “Jesus Christ” and “oh fuck” a lot.

P E R S O N A L I T Y, M I N D S E T, A N D B E L I E F S Personality Type: ISFP-T Sense of Humor: Definitely sarcastic and dry. He can be mean at times, but usually only if the person deserves it. As a result, Ki-mun has been described as “sassy” more than once. When he’s with people he actually likes, Ki-mun is a lot more lighthearted and not so sarcastic. Habits: Twists his lips a little when he’s thinking hard. Rolls his eyes when someone says something he thinks is dumb. Also rolls his eyes and sighs if he’s stuck in a conversation he really doesn’t want to have. When he’s reading his poetry out loud, he never looks up at the audience/whoever is listening because he’ll get too nervous if he sees everyone looking at him. Fears/Phobias: As much as he tries to act like he doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him, Ki-mun is very secretive about certain aspects of himself, and is very afraid of someone finding out more about him than he wants them to know. He can’t stand having his privacy invaded, and it honestly makes him feel sick to think of the wrong person knowing too much about him (he still hates that he ever let himself be so vulnerable with Spencer, and blames himself for not seeing more clearly what kind of person he was). Strengths: Ki-mun is very creative and has a knack for all kinds of art. Although it’s hard to get to know him, once he becomes friends with someone, he is fiercely loyal and would do anything for them. As a teacher/teaching assistant, he is exceptionally patient– much more so than in other aspects of his life. He is always happy to answer questions and help anyone student who needs it. Underneath his harsh exterior, Ki-mun is a kind person who just has trouble opening himself up to others. Flaws: He has built up a lot of walls around himself in an effort to try and keep himself from getting hurt. Every time he’s let those walls down, he’s ended up regretting it and building them back up even higher. Anyone who wants to get to know him has to be very determined. Ki-mun is also not the type of person to be nice just because social conventions say he should– if he doesn’t like someone, he won’t talk to them. If he thinks someone is boring, he will tell them so. He can’t stand small talk and will never willingly engage in it. This makes him a very difficult person to interact with. Hopes/Desires: He is not entirely sure what he wants to do with his life, but right now, he’s happy just working and exploring his options. All he knows is that he wants to keep writing poetry, possibly get some published, and keep working in a field that lets him play to his strengths. Wildest Fantasy: A cure for HIV/AIDS being found. Self-Esteem: It’s a little complicated. On some level, Ki-mun is confident in himself and proud of all he’s accomplished in his life. But at the same time, he has it in his head that he doesn’t deserve some of the things he wants, such as a romantic relationship, marriage, a family, etc. He kind of views himself as damaged goods, unfortunately. Religion: He was raised Protestant, and his family used to be fairly devout. He went to church every Sunday, they read scriptures and said a family prayer every night, etc. But the older the kids got, the less active in the church the entire family became. His parents and siblings are still casually religious, and Ki-mun has held on to certain aspects of it, but he doesn’t care about going to church or reading the bible or anything.

R A N D O M Sleeping Position: Usually on his stomach, occasionally on his back. Boxers or Briefs?: Briefs Day or Night?: He’s okay with both. He works during the day, which he likes, and in the late afternoon/evening he goes to the cafe and hangs out or reads his poetry. Top or Bottom?: Bottom, but he’s willing to switch if his partner wants to. Partying or Relaxing?: He likes parties, but he really prefers relaxing when it comes right down to it.

R E L A T I O N S H I P S Closest Friend: Andi is currently the only person Ki-mun would call a friend. He has a lot of acquaintances, but no one else that he’s really close to. Relationship History: He dated a couple of people in high school, but it was just puppy love and nothing serious. He had a couple of flings in college as well, just short-lived, purely physical relationships, and the only sexual encounters Ki-mun has ever had. And then there was Spencer. Ki-mun has not even been on a date since that whole debacle. Sexual Partners: Just the two guys Ki-mun had brief flings with. Thoughts About Sex: He enjoys it. He’s also pretty sure he’s never going to have it again, and has come to accept that.

P A R E N T S Name(s): His mother’s name was Seong Bo-ram. His aunt and uncle are named Park Min-ji and Park Kang-dae. Age(s): His mother passed away at the age of 28. His aunt is 57 and his uncle is 60. Social Standing: His mother was very well-liked, but was shunned by a lot of her friends after she not only became pregnant out of wedlock, but ended up contracting HIV. His aunt and uncle are well-respected in their community, and also well-off financially, firmly in the upper middle class. Occupation(s): His mom was a flight attendant. His aunt and uncle run a small Korean restaurant which is extremely popular– on weekends there’s often a line of people outside waiting to get in. Religion: Protestant-ish. Quality of Relationship With Their Children: Ki-mun’s mom loved him a ton– the reason she left him to her sister and brother-in-law is because she knew they would love Ki-mun as much as she did, and she was right. Ki-mun is still very close to his aunt and uncle. Living/Deceased: His mother is dead, but his aunt and uncle are alive.

S I B L I N G (S) Name(s): Park Kang-min,  Jang-mi (aka Jamie) Sanders, and Park Bo-ram (named after Ki-mun’s mother). Age(s): 33, 31, and 27. Social Standing: They’re all doing quite well in life and are upstanding members of society. Occupation(s): Kang-min is a commercial airline pilot, Jamie is currently a stay-at-home mom but plans to go back to work as an RN once her kids are a little older, and Bo-ram is a violinist with the California Symphony. Religion: They’re all sorta Protestant, but Jamie is the only one of them who still goes to church now and then. Quality of Relationship with Character: Even though they are technically Ki-mun’s cousins, they always refer to him as their brother. They’re all pretty close; they don’t talk all the time or anything, but when they do, they get along very well and have always enjoyed each other’s company. Living/Deceased: All living~

D A I L Y L I F E Living Arrangements: Ki-mun lives in a modest studio apartment fairly close to both his work and Central Park. The apartment is well-decorated, with a lived-in, cozy sort of look. He’s very comfortable where he is, not at all bothered by living in a small space, especially considering how much more expensive it would be to upgrade to a one-bedroom.

[completelypeccable]

Can I Have This Dance?

Chp 3. Dancing Queen

/In this house, we love and appreciate Duke Thomas./

Chp 2

Chp 1

“You are the Dancing Queen! Young and sweet, only seventeen!” Duke yelled along with Stephanie, leaning across the divider in the front seats of the car. 

Tim kicked Steph’s chair, “Hey, pay attention!”

“Stop being jealous that Duke loves me more than you-“

“Steph?”

“Yeah, Duke?”

“Directions?”

“Oh yeah, take a left up here, then...” Steph rattled off. Cassandra snickered from the back seat. 

“Feel that beat like a smooth machine!” Duke continued. 

“That’s so not the-“

“YOU CAN DANCE-“

“Why did we let him drive,” Jason grumbled. 

“Hey, mister spontaneously alive,” the car took a sharp left, but Steph turned completely around. “You don’t have a license, remember?”

“What are you, some goody two shoes piec-“

“Steph, what are you doing?! Buckle-“

Steph gently shushed Tim by smothering his face. He squawked indignantly. 

“Licking won’t work on me, tweety bird.”

Duke eyed them through the rear view mirror. 

“I am the only responsible person in this car,” he sighed. 

Cass frowned. 

“Besides Cassie, but she baby.”

“Oh she baby,” with a yelp, Steph’s arm was disengaged by a jab to the inside of her elbow. 

“And babies can’t drive,” Tim wiped his mouth, “right Damian?”

Tim twisted around (still buckled) to face the glare, but Damian wasn’t listening.  He was leaned against Cass, who lightly traced her nails across his skin with one hand. She winked, pressing a kiss to Damian’s forehead nestled at her collarbone. Damian held her other hand on her lap, splaying her fingers out, in with a barely-there smile.  More of a content line, really. Tim felt relieved that the kid was doing as well as he was, all things considered.

The older two shared a smile. Cass could make anyone melt, but Damian was always uncharacteristically soft with her.

And she loved to coddle him. 

Jason groaned. “How much farther?”

“Why are you so upset?” Tim poked his side.

“I just like to complain. But I am also too big for this car.”

“Oh, good shotgun?”

“Yes, fair driver?”

“For how long must we continue our travels?”

“Until dear Jason loses the will to live-“

“Steph!“

“Would someone please shut up my impulse control?”

Tim leaned his head onto her shoulder, hugging her around the seat. “You say the sweetest things.”

“You can dance, you can try~“

Jason flopped his head onto the seat behind him.

Duke smiled, singing along to the song in his head. The pulse in his mind was always calmer when he wasn’t alone.  After everything that had been going on, he was happy to see his somehow-sibling-esque-figures doing alright.  Being almost normal, even. They planned a family zoo trip! Granted it was partially because Damian was confiscated from his father a-la-angry vigilante style, and Steph and Cass immediately decided to make him act like a normal kid (who is a bit overly attached to animals) to distract them all from that sad reality, and they were all going along for the process because they were grieving something awful- but still! In some way, they were being normal.  Normal-ish.

Whatever.

Today was going to be a good day, he decided.  

...

The Gotham zoo was busy for a Monday, since it was beautiful weather and a day off from school. 

Duke supposed they could all use the break. 

“Hey guys,” Steph started as they stood in front of the narrow window of the bear enclosure. “So, we mostly own the night, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But Duke goes out during the day,”

“It’s the light thing,” he said.

“Yeah, the light thing,” Steph waved her hands. “So, anyways, I get that you’re the sunshine child- pun totally intended- but like, you’re strongest when the sun is strongest, right? That makes you-“

“Oh stop,” Tim cackled.

“-a fire bender! And these losers here are water benders!”

Duke gasped and began bending nothing, to Steph’s delight. 

Swirling his arms, Jason engaged him in battle. Even though they turned heads, their moves became more elaborate than strictly necessary.

Well, Duke guessed none of this was -strictly- necessary.

Cass hummed thoughtfully, patting Damian’s head while he watched the bears lumber towards the water. 

“Us yes. Baby, no.”

Tim considered this as Jason nearly sent Duke into a wayward couple.

“He’s an earth bender,” Steph decided, spinning in lazy circles. 

“I have no idea what you people are talking about. Please let me watch the bears in peace.”

“Wait,” Steph practically launched herself against the boys. 

“Don’t you mean the platypus bears?”

Duke backed away from the angry women.  He scratched his chin and leaned over the plaque. “It just says bear here.”

“You mean skunk bear, then?” Tim grinned.

“Or armadillo bear?” Jason’s size was a gift sometimes, as he leaned back and squashed Damian against the window.

“What are you-“

“Gopher bear?” Steph giggled. 

“Just says bear here,” Duke shrugged. 

Cass’s spoke softly, but precisely, as if tasting each sound. 

“Weird place.”

“Weird people,” Damian grumbled. Jason leaned farther back, further pancaking his cheek against the glass.

“Dancing queen, face as red as a tangerine!” Duke poked his nose. 

“Oh, that reminds me, we need to get some fried Oreos-“

“How does that-“

“Shush, Tim. I need fried Oreos clogging my arteries as soon as humanly possible. Come on.”

“Heck yes,” Jason grinned, picking Damian up like a very angry yoga mat. “Steph is in charge now, sorry Duke.”

“As the only capable adult here, I say we need to eat an actual lunch, too.”

Tim took Damian, only to walk with him upside down over his shoulder.  They all pretended not to notice his smile underneath the half-hearted promises of violence.

“Nuggets,” Cass prophesied. 

Steph linked their arms and led the way to the food court. 

...

Duke had been looking forward to this trip all week, and it didn’t disappoint. They saw all the animals, ate terrible food in a less than sanitary environment, then chased each other around and generally made themselves a nuisance to society. 

It was great. 

Some highlights? Cass dared Jason to eat half a hot dog in a single bite. He shoved the whole thing in his mouth, then walked into a pole. Tim fell asleep on top of Steph and mumbled about robot bunnies.  Duke carried Damian around on his shoulders, accidentally walked him into some tree branches, and laughed so hard he dropped him. 

Of course, it had been weird that the zoo hadn’t bumped up the number of workers to match crowd sizes, but it was fine. Just took a little longer to do things. And the place was a little messier.

They were just paranoid, is all.

Cass tossed the purple plush snake around her shoulders as they exited the gift shop to the center plaza. The tail hit Steph, who adjusted her peacock sunglasses with an upturned nose. 

The crowd rushed around them like a steady stream of fish (“Only animal metaphors for the zoo, folks”). Their imposing shark, Jason, frowned as he pushed his way through the flow. 

Damian offered Duke an animal cracker, and he happily picked out a zebra. 

It had been a good day. 

Tim had waited outside for them, citing important business. He smiled and lowered his phone from his ear as they got closer to his seat at the fountain. 

“Hey, Dames, can I have one?” He asked. 

Damian raised a single brow.

Tim could fake emotions with the worst of them. Oh, wait, animals. Dang it, Steph.  Like a honey bee could take a casual stroll.

“And here I was going to offer you my phone to talk to Dick-“

Damian shoved the whole bag at him and grabbed the phone. 

Tim laughed as Damian scurried a small distance away, plunking down just outside the bathrooms.  Twin paintings- one a giraffe, the other a flamingo- labeled the two single person stalls. 

“Any news from Dick?” Steph asked, settling against Tim’s side. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, watching Damian smile into the receiver. “He said he was on his way back.”

It was funny how Jason thought with his face sometimes. Duke could feel the confusion. 

“Wait, isn’t he undercover somewhere in Asia right now taking down Some MobTM with ties to the League of Assassins?”

“From the inside, yeah.”

“And he just, what, finished up early?”

“Pretty much.”

Jason threw up his hands, “I hate this family.”

Steph laughed, dragging Cass half onto her lap while Tim stared distracted at the crowd. 

Just like that, Jason’s face hardened. Following his line of vision, Duke watched a teen scurry out of the bathroom to the main directory on the other side of the plaza. His hood was up and he looked neither right nor left. 

“I’ll be right back,” Jason said, slipping into the crowd flow. 

Probably nothing, Duke thought, watching Cass threaten to push Steph into the fountain. 

“I’d take the quarters, so the joke’s on you.”

“Stealing,” Cass tutted. 

“I’ll look good doing it.”

An eye roll. 

Tim’s fingers rapidly tapped against the stone. 

“Dames, wrap it up, we’re headed out,” he called. 

Damian gave a thumbs up. 

See, it was still a good day. Duke breathed deeply. 

It was fine. 

It was-

The fire alarm went off at the directory.  The crowd turned to look.

Tim tensed, and Duke felt the shock shoot up his spine as yellow light pulsed and swarmed toward the bathrooms. 

Oh no. 

A high pitched whine. 

“Get down!” Duke yelled. 

The bathroom exploded. They threw themselves to the ground just in time to avoid the brunt of the heat and debris. Dirt and rock sprayed in his face. Smoke filled the air, dark and thick. 

Tim scrambled to his feet, coughing. 

“Damian!”

No, Duke thought. 

There was so much smoke. 

They all scrambled toward the bathroom, but the wall where Damian had stood was half rubble and the kid was nowhere to be found. 

Duke stared where he last saw him, but the smoke obscured most of the light. 

Why is there so much smoke?, he thought. It was hard to get a reading. Come on, Duke. The scene kept pulsing, then disappearing. His head hurt, he couldn’t breathe, but the static blur began to form. Come on. 

Tim ran into the building. 

Duke fought through the haze until the blue-tinged flecks obeyed and the scene spotted into focus. He saw Damian drop to the ground just as the wall flew apart. Stray debris littered his body, and a brick to the skull knocked him unconscious. The smoke poured through, but just before everything blacked out, a lumbering figure dragged the kid through the broken wall into complete darkness. 

The present rushed back. Duke inhaled smoke, sinking to the ground. His chest felt like someone was de-stringing his muscles like spaghetti. Twist, twisting the fork. 

“No!” Steph screamed. Tim came out alone and choking for air. Steph pushed her way in, but Duke knew it was useless. 

Damian was gone. 

[creacherkeeper]

how to study an author’s style

i hate when teachers will tell you to copy an author’s style for a project but DON’T TELL YOU HOW TO DO THAT! or maybe you just want to write more like your favorite author! trying on some new hats! there are plenty of reasons to want to look at style, so, some tips, & examples under the cut 

where do they put their dialogue tags? how often does their dialogue go without tags, and when? 

are there any words that are repeated throughout a section or text? how often do they use repetition of phrases or words? what is this for - tone, character, or something else? 

how elevated is their language? (you can always chuck a passage into a readability checker like this one to get a grade level for the text) 

how long are their sentences & how many clauses is that sentence broken into? does the length vary little or greatly? is there a pattern to their sentence length within each paragraph? 

long paragraphs or short? 

do they use humor, and when? what’s meant to be funny about the text? is it in the narration, the dialogue, or both? 

how often do they use figurative language, and which kinds? metaphors or similes? personification? synecdoche? 

do they alliterate for emphasis or write out sounds? 

how do they imply emphasis? italics? punctuation? sentence length?

when listing things, what number of things do they list? how do they use conjunctions? (syndeton is when conjunctions are used, “blank and blank and blank.” asyndeton is when no conjunctions are used, “blank, blank, blank.”) 

how is information delivered? at the end of the sentence, or beginning? do we always know something right when the character knows it? 

this is all great in theory, but how about we put it in practice? 

to use as an example, we’re going to look at several works of neil gaiman, author of the princess mononoke adaption and nothing else (besides many books and comics and whatnot, some of which we will look at here) 

under the cut: the graveyard book, the ocean at the end of the lane, & american gods

each text has had three sections, about a page in length, analyzed. i used the first page, as well as at least one page with heavy dialogue, and one page with little to no dialogue. besides these criteria, the pages were chosen randomly 

the graveyard book 

3rd person omniscient - past tense - children’s book 

sentences per paragraph: paragraphs had one sentence in them commonly (39% of the time), but went up to 7 sentences in a paragraph 

words per sentence: sentences had high variation in number of words. each page had sentences between 1 and 4 words long. however, some sentences were very lengthy, with the top sentences in each section being 43, 41, and 57 words long 

clauses: it was not uncommon for a long sentence to have up to 5 clauses, with one extraordinary sentence having 11 

dialogue: dialogue tags were put before the dialogue 2 times, in the middle of dialogue 8 times, and after the dialogue 3 times. a character’s dialogue tag or action being between two or three sections of dialogue was by far the most common, but did vary by character. sometimes dialogue tags were used multiple times per character speaking (such as one in the middle and another at the end)

emphasis: italics were used 3 times in the pages, and a character spoke in all caps once 

figurative language: 

synecdoche: “There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife.” 

personification: “The knife had done almost everything it was brought to the house to do” / “The knife and the man who held it had slipped in” 

simile: “they looked like dark mirrors” 

metaphor: “smoke-tendril voice” 

in these passages, figurative language was used to bolster an atmosphere of dark aesthetics and light horror. figurative language was used the most in the passage with no dialogue 

syndeton: “His hair was dark and his eyes were dark and he wore black leather gloves” 

special notes: period-specific language was used, such as one character using the term “blast it”. while the book was easy to understand, elevated language was used on occasion, such as “expostulated” instead of “said”. the narrator gave us information about how the characters were feeling or what they were thinking, but also seemed to have opinions not shared by the characters, despite not being a ‘present/strong’ narrator. the narrator did imply some concept of an audience  

the ocean at the end of the lane

1st person POV - past tense - adult book with a child main character 

sentences per paragraph: paragraphs had one sentence in them 17% of the time, but went up to 11 sentences in a paragraph, with 4 to 5 being common

words per sentence: sentences had high variation in number of words. each page had sentences 3 or less words long. the top sentences in each section were 42, 41, and 28 words long

clauses: there were sentences with 5+ clauses in each section, with 7 clauses appearing twice 

dialogue: dialogue tags were put before the dialogue 4 times, in the middle of dialogue 7 times, and after the dialogue 1 time. no dialogue tag was used 4 times. mid-dialogue was still the most common, and sometimes there would be multiple tags or actions in each section of dialogue 

emphasis: italics were used 4 times in the pages

figurative language:

metaphor: “transformed her face to gold” 

synecdoche: “lettie’s voice was close to me, and it said” (this could also be interpreted as personification, since the voice is talking) 

figurative language was not used often in these passages, but was used to bolster the mood of scenes (the golden face introduced a mystical character, the voice was in a tense moment before a chase) 

asydeton: “squinted at it, sniffed it, rubbed at it, listened to it, then touched it” 

special notes: in this book, an adult narrator is telling the story of his childhood. the narration is very simple and to the point, and does not use flowery or figurative language often. though it is told in first person, in these passages, we don’t get very much interiority from the narrator. most of the mood-setting of scenes is in the actual content of them, which is meant to be magical or horrifying in parts 

american gods

3rd person close - past tense - adult book with adult main character 

sentences per paragraph: paragraphs had one sentence in them commonly (36% of the time), but went up to 7 sentences in a paragraph, with 3 being most common. overall, the trend was towards less sentences in a paragraph 

words per sentence: sentences had high variation in number of words. each page had sentences 1 or 2 words long. the top sentences in each section were 39, 41, and a whopping 92 words long (92 words? neil, dude.) 

clauses: the most clauses in a sentence was 12 clauses, with 4 or 5 clauses being common 

dialogue: dialogue tags were put before the dialogue 2 times, in the middle of dialogue 11 times, and after the dialogue 3 times. no dialogue tag was used 8 times, mostly if there were two people in a scene or we weren’t supposed to know who was talking. 

figurative language:

personification: “[snow] that kisses your face with its hesitant touch” 

metaphor: “twelve cotton-candy inches of snow” 

so shadow isn’t ... the most imaginative person when it comes to figurative language, but bless, he’s trying. figurative language is used when we’re inside the POV character’s head 

syndeton: “so he kept himself in shape, and taught himself coin tricks, and thought a lot about how much he loved his wife.” 

special notes: this book uses more complex punctuation than the others did. we have em dashes and colons, sometimes in the same sentence, as well as ellipses and semicolons. though the narration follows shadow, we also get thoughts directly from him in italics. one time, italics is used for a piece of dialogue said in the past, while quotation marks are used for past dialogue in the same sentence. overall, this book has much more complicated sentence structure, though the overall diction isn’t necessarily of a higher grade level (though it does swear, like, a lot) 

conclusion

from this sort of analysis, this is what we can gather of neil gaiman’s style, that we can now use to copy him as we choose: 

he has high variation in paragraph length and sentence length. there are plenty of short, punchy sentences, both in narration and dialogue, but the long sentences are much longer than average, and use a high number of clauses. 4 or 5 clauses in a sentence was fairly common, not just for listing things. when a paragraph had only one sentence in it, most of the time it was used for emphasis of an idea or to switch the focus of a scene. interestingly, the paragraphs that took up the most space on a page usually had more words per sentence rather than more sentences than average 

word choice and diction was used to establish tone. the graveyard book, which is a children’s book, had more elevated diction than ocean at the end of the lane, which is an adult book. overall, the sentences tended to be fairly low-grade-level in word choice (besides the many curses in american gods, as mentioned), and the content set the age range more than word choice

if you want to write like neil gaiman, for the love of the gods, put your dialogue tags in the middle of your dialogue. this was by far the most common way the dialogue tags or character action was placed within the dialogue (49% of the time, out of four options). another thing that stands out about the dialogue tags, is that while in the middle they’re often used to emphasize the first word or phrase of the sentence (”who,” said shadow, “...” / “that,” said silas, “...” / “i think,” said silas, “...”). when not in the middle, the tag could be at the end of the sentence, or there would be no tag at all. the tag was very rarely at the beginning of the sentence 

he used both syndeton and asyndeton for lists of things or joining multiple clauses. this was present in every book, though i only looked at 3 pages per. another thing i noticed while reading the graveyard book separately (this was not present in the pages i analyzed) was listing things in twos with two and’s and one comma (blank and blank, blank and blank). 

emphasis tended to be through sentence length rather than italics. italics were used for specific words or thoughts more often than emphasis, and was not very present in these pages

the POV changed in each book, as well as narrational distance from the characters, but they were all written in past tense 

figurative language is used to set tone, abide by an aesthetic, and inform us of character. the presence of figurative language does change depending on the book, and was the most present in graveyard book, which had the most distant narrator. the figurative language used was tied to character. in the graveyard book, the man jack and his knife are described with synecdoche--when a part represents the whole. this is very interesting once you find out who the man jack is! 

and all this from just 9 pages! imagine what you could do with a chapter, or a short story 

i do recommend checking out the “bad gaiman challenge” on youtube, one because it’s very very funny, and two because you can then ask yourself, what about these make them read like neil gaiman stories, terrible though they are? some things you might notice - long sentences, syndeton, tone, and more! 

if anyone is still reading, thank you for sticking with that very long winded example. hopefully you learned something about how to analyze a writing style! try it with your own writing, too! do it for a story you might not like as much, and your favorite, and see how they differ. plug your stories into an analysis website. you might be surprised what you learn! 

[shenlongshao]

GG Strive Thoughts: Part 3

Welcome to the last part of my Guilty Gear Strive thoughts!^_^ I'll be focusing on the art-style and character designs, so there will be lots of pictures in this post. I hope you enjoy reading!

Art-Style & Graphics ---------------

Guilty Gear's visuals always had a detailed, Sci-Fi fantasy anime look with creativity of the 1990s and early 2000s. This mostly stayed the same until Xrd SIGN, which introduced 3D cel-shaded graphics in a new way. The art-style also changed a bit from previous games, although it has kept its creativity.

GG Xrd SIGN and the following games(Revelator and Revelator 2) look beautiful, but it took me a while to get used to the art-style because of those dreaded chins. The characters should've just used their chins to fight cause of how long and pointy they are; just go "SLLASSHHHH!" XD  Certain features of characters were exaggerated like Sol's shoulders being a bit too wide for his body or how Baiken's hair is thicker and spikier. Some people say it's "too anime", but that isn't the right word for it. I would say "whimsical" is main trait from the art-style, which is fitting for how funny the interactions are in-game and lighter tone in story.

Guilty Gear Strive keeps the cel-shaded 3D graphics, but manages to expand it further. Instead of its presentation akin to an anime TV series, it's now akin to a high-budget anime movie with detail given to both the characters and the environments. It's less whimsical this time, giving the impression the story will be darker in tone. I'm really happy the art-style was changed to being closer to the older GG games like X2; no more ice-cream cone chins!XD  The characters also got redesigned to match the essence of the new game. I'll be talking about eachone in order from least to most in terms of design changes. I'll also rate them in Guilty Gear style grade form. POTEMKIN ------------------- There seems to be mixed reactions when Potemkin got revealed for GG Strive. Some were happy he looked generally the same while others were a little disappointed and asked, "How come he didn't get a huge redesign like the other characters?!" The answer is he already did; this is how Potemkin originally looked like in the GG series.

This design relates to Potemkin's story in the beginning. The Zepp empire in the past was a very corrupted, technology advanced nation. It contained battle-slaves with strength enhancement steriods and bound them with a special limiter. Potemkin was one of these battle-slaves with his huge, red metal color being the limiter. If he ever took it off, it would explode. However, Zepp was changed when Gabriel became President and freed all the Zeppian slaves, including Potemkin. He now serves as Gabriel's bodyguard out of genuine loyalty, gratitude, and care for his mentor and the renewed Zepp.

Judging on his old design by itself, I think he looked average(based on what he's wearing). His features definitely fit the saying "don't judge a book by its cover" because Potemkin is actually a gentle giant who's very intelligent. But the way he looks(except when interacting with certain characters), it's like he wants to break someone's bones, lol.

In the concept artwork in Guilty Gear X Plus(Japanese exclusive game), it hinted of what Potemkin will eventually developed into look-wise and story-wise. Even the pose from this pic was used later in Xrd SIGN. I really wish the design of the boots was used instead those weird looking ones he's wearing now, XD.

Now to look at Potemkin's design in Xrd SIGN.

This is Potemkin's drastic redesign needed because of the changes in his life and his resolve being tested. I love this design so much because it accurately portrays Potemkin's personality. The first is his steel helmet with a spike at the top, accented with the Zepp symbol at the center of his forehead. His face is mostly shrouded in darkness except for the glowing lens. The yellow ponytail fur attached adds to the essence of a modern steel knight. Next is the black collar having spikes at the front; he also has on spiked shoulder plates to emphasis his strength. The power part is also in the round-shaped limiters attached to the upper parts of his uniform and glove compartment of his gauntlets. The design of his gauntlets is derived from the GGX Plus concept art, except the gloves completely cover his fingers and has a robotic aesthetic to it. I notice green is the most dominant color in Potemkin's design and there's a reason why besides it being Zepp's uniform.

Here is the Green Personality taken from Color Psychology (https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-green.html):

You are a practical, down-to-earth person with a love of nature. You are stable and well balanced or are striving for balance - in seeking this balance, you can at times become unsettled and anxious. Having a personality color green means you are kind, generous and compassionate - good to have around during a crisis as you remain calm and take control of the situation until it is resolved.

You are caring and nurturing to others - however you must be careful not to neglect your own needs while giving to others. You are intelligent and love to learn - you are quick to understand new concepts. You are a good citizen and like to be involved in community groups. You have high moral standards and doing the right thing is important to you.

There is more, but I only taken pieces that describe Potemkin's personality, showing why green is his main color. Now onto his look in GG Strive starting with his helmet.

On the forehead of the helmet, the Zepp symbol is no longer a design mark, but an carved symbol with the words "Armor-clad faith" underneath. Instead of just darkness on his face, it accentuates the robotic aesthetic with the gears and the lens having an orange tint. Next is a full body screenshot of Potemkin.

The spiked shoulder plates is less noticeable and his uniform is more formal. There's now a maroon-red collar with white trim and yellow buttons. The spikes on the black collar part of his outfit is gone, there's thick pockets on the lower part of his suit and has a brown belt instead of black. His boots is also brown instead of black and the plates around his feet is orange instead of red. There's additional limiters on his upper back that is revealed when doing certain attacks, showing his power has grown more. His muscle mass has also gotten super HUGE to the point I wouldn't be surprised if he reached Sentinel(X-Men) size, XD.

Design Rating: S++(Fantastic!) SOL BADGUY ------------ ---------- Sol Badguy is the main protagonist, so there was never a worry or surprise of his GG Strive design. There's also the fact his design isn't really new; it's heavily derived from the artwork of Guilty Gear 2:Overture. But first is looking at Sol's most iconic design from the GG series.

I'll always love this design because I think it's stylish, cool, and timeless. He's handsome in the traditional tough-guy way and perfectly fits the anti-hero type. His metal red headband acts as a limiter for his Gear powers and has the words "Rock You" in the center of his forehead. Besides it symbolizing his love for Queen's "Sheer Heart Attack" music album and controlling his Gear powers, it also symbolizes how he keeps his inner thoughts to himself and close-mindedness. He wears a black undershirt layered with a sleeveless, chest-length red jacket with a buckle strap. This style is very unconventional, which is exactly Sol is; he doesn't follow typical conventions. His red and black gloves conveys his toughness while his belt with the "FREE" tells of his philosophy. This also hints complexity to his nature since the belt is from when he was in the Holy Order, an aspect of his past. This shows he's inwardly caring and values the people in life along with his experiences. Lastly, is his white pants accented with buckles and red shoes.

The GG2:Overture Short Stories goes into some detail of the events before the game like how he was entrusted to raise Sin(Ky & Dizzy's son), etc. The major difference with Sol's design from the short stories is he's wearing a sensible red jacket similar to his old one, but its design still has traits of being its own style. His black undershirt is slightly different with a small V-shape cut-out in the middle, longer sleeves, and slightly loose around his stomach instead of fitted. His gloves has more of a biker vibe to them and no aspect of red nor buckles within them. He still wears red shoes on his feet, though tweaked in its looks. While this did hinted of Sol's character development, it wasn't a large factor because alot of the huge events at the time and before were placed on him rather than him confronting it by himself. It's why for Xrd SIGN, he primary reverted to his iconic look, though his GG2:Overture Short Stories look did get tweaked and used within the game's Story Mode. Now for his GG Strive look.

His GG Strive design blends both his GG2:Overture Short Stories look and aspects of his iconic design, which I really like. The red jacket with black trim conveys his free-spirited persona, yet also comfortable and relaxed. There's also a little bit more white seen on the cuffs of his jacket, meaning his heart is more open. This relates to his character development of finally confronting his past, his feelings, and his relationships. But he's still Sol Badguy and there's much for him to find out and explore, especially since red and black is still his main colors. There is deep meaning to this too.

Red Personality(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-red.html):

You are action oriented and physically active - sex is a necessity to you - you have strong survival instincts. Lovers of red are the explorers and pioneers of the world, the entrepreneurs and builders who like to be first in discovering new physical realms. You are always in a hurry, wanting to do everything right now. Patience is not one of your strong points. Red people can be aggressive and easy to anger, often exhibiting a violent temper - this is negative passion and energy. You flare up instantaneously but calm down quite quickly once you get it out of your system and then forget it ever happened. You have a strong need for power and control which is connected to your basic survival instincts.

Black Personality(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-black.html):

You are independent, strong-willed and determined and like to be in control of yourself and situations. You may appear intimidating to even your closest colleagues and friends, with an authoritarian, demanding and dictatorial attitude. You hold things inside and are not good at sharing yourself with others, possibly out of fear. You may be retreating behind black during a difficult time in your life such as a serious illness or a period of grief - black protects, allowing for a deep inner healing without interference from others. I'll add traits of the color White since there's a noticeable amount on Sol.(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/color-white.html): Positive traits of White: Simplicity, self-efficient, growth/new beginnings, open, equality, rescuer, and sense of completion. These traits describe Sol. Overall, I like the design and feel it suits him well. Design Rating: S+++(Perfect!) MAY ----------- So far, May is the only female character revealed for the initial roster of GG Strive. There's mixed reactions with May's redesign for the new game. Some are happy she finally looks like she's in her early to mid teens(like 14 or 16) instead like a little girl. But others aren't happy with the changes to her outfit, saying it's bland. Let's look at May's iconic design. 

In my opinion, May is the coolest looking child character. Her open-sides style coat with side slits layered with a skin-tight bodysuit blends both cute and stylish. Adding to it is the tricon pirate hat, silver plating on her wrists and neckline, and orange short boots with black trim. Lastly, a black belt is around her waist while buckles accents her orange coat. This shows she's spunky, cheerful, and deceptively strong. In the story, her origins was unknown at the time, which perfectly fits due to there's black as part of color scheme(one of the meaning for black is mystery). Story-wise, May's development gradually grows from finding Johnny and later recruiting Dizzy as a member of the crew. Her curiosity of her heritage surfaces, causing some changes in her design.

In Xrd SIGN, Her skin-tight bodysuit is gone and replaced with just a black, fitted tank underneath her orange overalls. Her pants is loose-fitting along with having a big buckle around her waist and different boots still in orange with black trim. She doesn't have the silver plating collar, but other aspects of her iconic look like her pirate hat is kept. May finally finds out she's Japanese and dealing a mysterious condition that (currently) can't be cured. This is a huge story development for May that leads to be expanded further and another redesign. First is looking up the facial shot of May for Guilty Gear Strive.

May's facial features is the first noticeable difference. The art-style is a strong factor in this, but May looks physically older. She still has big, cute brown eyes, though not as large as in Xrd SIGN. This makes her face appear a little longer face to convey a hint of maturity. Yet, she still hasn't escaped being just cute in an innocent way. Another difference is her hair is slightly shorten to halfway to her back instead to her waist. It's also loose instead of a thick ponytail within her pirate hat, which I think it's a nice little change. Her hat is shaped more round instead of oversized tricon while still retaining the pirate skull at the front. The anchor design on the sides makes it both simple, yet stylish. Now to see the full body of May's new look!

.....Lol, May is wearing a dumb orange hoodie, XD. What's worse is the hoodie has no special designs pertaining to May's personality or style; it's overly casual. There's also no shape, making her look like a fat fish. The skin-tight black short-shorts doesn't help with how oversized the hoodie is, which if it weren't for certain angles, it gives the illusion she isn't wearing anything on her lower body. It looks like lounge wear meant to be worn around the house instead of clothing a person would wear going on an adventure. Speaking of adventure, she has a backpack.

The backpack itself is cute because it's Chimaki(mascot of GG) and do see the the letter J with a heart; meaning love for Johnny. But other than this, this backpack also doesn't really relate to May. Besides being the mascot for the series, Chimaki is specific to Sin because it's favorite toy. None of May's official art ever showed her having a Chimaki toy or accessory. The casual look gives me the impression she quit the Jellyfish Pirates, but her winning animation of her saying "Jellyfish victory!" and Leap(the elderly lady who cooks) being there disproves this theory. Besides the hat, the only things kept from her iconic look is her gloves and boots. There's a heart on one of her thighs; a fitting aspect for a pirate.

Now to look at the Orange personality since it's May's main color(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-orange.html): 

With orange as your favorite color, you are warm, optimistic, extroverted and often flamboyant. You are friendly, good-natured and a generally agreeable person. You are assertive and determined rather than aggressive - having a personality color orange means you are more light-hearted and less intense than those who love red. You thrive on human social contact and social gatherings, bringing all types together.

You live your life based on your 'gut reactions'. You are an adventurer - you love the outdoor life, camping, climbing mountains and indulging in adventurous sports such as sky diving and hang gliding. You are the daredevil, always looking towards your next challenge, your next great adventure. 

This definitely fits May's nature. My impression of her simpler look probably hints of May is unsure of herself and trying to figure something out. Her expression in her new character portrait has this too; it's the first one of her not smiling. But I still think this new look for May is bad(except for the hat,  the boots, and the gloves). Her design should've been something like this picture link below.

https://imgur.com/Ue1XdhT The top would need to cover her stomach, but this design perfectly fits with May's nature and role as a Jellyfish Pirate. It also conveys she's adventurous and can easily implemented the backpack as part of the design. But it wasn't used... I'm nicknaming her May of the Jelly-Fat, lol. Worst design so far(and hopefully the only one). Design Rating:D(for Derailed) KY KISKE ----------------- Ky's radical redesign for GG Strive was such a huge shock to everyone. At first, people thought it was Sin(Ky's son) until examining him closely. It's funny how many people are saying "Ky's handsome now" and saying he has an athletic body when in reality, he always did, XD. It isn't the first time Ky got big changes to his look based on the events in his life, but I'm going to focus on Ky's iconic design.

Ky is the opposite of Sol; the traditional knight-in-shining-armor type hero. This is another design I'll call timeless and my personal favorite look for Ky. He's very handsome in a princely way, which is fitting since Ky is a French noble. He wears a white shoulder cape containing a high collar with blue trim. It's attached to the blue knight-tunic with black trim in the front, accented with a white, trench-coat like detail. There's twin belts attached to his blue and black gloves while one is on his matching boots. Layered underneath his uniform is his black and white, sleeveless turtle neck and fitted detached sleeves. The belt around his waist with "HOPE" conveys Ky's philosophy. This attire is the Holy Order uniform, which conveys how strongly Ky holds onto the teachings and experiences he had during those times. His story at the time was about fulfilling his duty and doing what he knows and believes is right. Blue and white has always been Ky's main colors, which tells alot about his personality.

Meaning of White Personality(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-white.html): 

Having a personality color white means you are neat and immaculate in your appearance, in the presentation of your home and in your car, almost to the point of being fanatical. You are far-sighted, with a positive and optimistic nature. You are well-balanced, sensible, discreet and wise. You think carefully before acting - you are definitely not prone to impulsive behavior. You tend to have a great deal of self control. You may appear to be shy, but you do have strong beliefs about most things and love the opportunity to air those beliefs. The challenge for you is to be open-minded and flexible and to communicate your needs and desires. Meaning of Blue Personality(https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-blue.html):   You are conservative, reliable and trustworthy - you are quite trusting of others although you are very wary in the beginning until you are sure of the other person. At the same time, you also have a deep need to be trusted. You are not impulsive or spontaneous - you always think before you speak and act and do everything at your own pace in your own time. You take time to process and share your feelings. You are genuine and sincere, and you take your responsibilities seriously. Having a personality color blue means you have a deep need for peace and harmony in your everyday life - you don't like having your feathers ruffled. You would benefit from daily meditation and quiet time for reflection, introspection and self-discovery.

You appear to be confident and self-controlled, but may be hiding your vulnerable side. Being a personality color blue means you are generally fairly even-tempered, unless your emotions take over - then you can become either moody and over-emotional, or cool and indifferent. You are sensitive to the needs of others and caring with your close circle of friends. While you are friendly and sociable, you prefer the company of your own close group of friends.

You are a rescuer and love to be needed but one of your lessons is to learn to love yourself first - you live from your heart and are always busy putting the needs of others first. You can be rigid - you like to stick to what is familiar to you and it is hard to sway you from your path - you stubbornly do things your way even if there is a better way. You need to have direction & order in your living and work spaces - untidiness and unpredictability overwhelm you.

You are approachable and friendly, always making people feel welcome in your life. You have a thirst for knowledge in order to gain wisdom and appear knowledgeable in whatever area interests you. You are spiritual or religious with a high degree of devotion to family, God, or other causes that are important to you. If reacting negatively, you are prone to self-pity. These perfectly fit Ky's personality and has mostly stayed with him throughout his character development. Now to look at his GG Strive redesign beginning with the head.

One of the obvious difference is Ky's hair is short, reminiscent of his iconic look. But it raises the question of how since according to the story, it's stated his hair grows rapidly no matter how many times he tries to cut it(due to heavily implying he's part Gear). I'm guessing either Ky followed Sin's method of cutting his hair every 3 days or he found a special hair product to prevent rapid growth, XD. I notice the style of his hair is a bit different; the strands of his bangs is shorter and thicker. It creates a boyish look instead of a young man, which doesn't fit Ky. It doesn't seem noticeable during gameplay, but cutscene-like sequences it's the opposite. His hair should've been exactly like GGX2.

His facial structure and eyes in GG Strive is exactly like in GGX2 except for one part; his chin. While Ky's chin was never wide like most male characters, it usually isn't this narrow either. The narrower chin makes him look younger and with how the hair is styled, it gives the impression it's Ky from an earlier timeline. If his chin was similar to how it was in GG X2, it will improve his look alot and show he's mature and sophisticated. Next is examining the full body picture of his new look.

This is a huge departure in many ways. The only aspect inspired from his iconic design is the shoulder cape, but it lacks the blue trim around the helms and collar. Instead, there's black trim at the helms and hints of blue at the back with the words "Illyrium". His semi-fingerless gloves with fingernail plating is something he doesn't usually wear, but the back of his hands does have plating saying "Nothing can be done without hope". It shows he still generally has the same philosophy and key traits he's known for. The fact his "HOPE" belt is replaced with 2 standard belts(one black and the other brown) implies his mindset he carried from the Holy Order is gone and became open-minded. His open, V-neckline shirt with a single sleeve is inspired from this.

I do find it interesting how this reveals(pun intended) a different side of him, XD. It adds a sense of sensuality that leading men from romantic novels have and obviously it being sexy. Next is his fitted pants accented with blue crosses at the front then his boots with blue trim at the bottom. The most significant change is how Ky's dominant color is now black, which has important meaning to his character development.

Positive traits of Black: Include protection and comfort, strong, contained, formal, sophisticated, seductive, mysterious, endings & beginnings.

Negative traits of Black: Depressing and pessimistic, secretive and withholding, conservative and serious, power & control, sadness and negativity.

All of these fit Ky and since he's wearing alot of black instead of blue and white, this implies he has or going to have an internal struggle. I haved mixed feelings about his new design.

I love the concept of it and think it's nice to see Ky wear something different as his main attire. By itself the outfit is good and easy to adjust to, it's just not as unique as his original design. The design of blue crosses from his GG Accent Core Plus ending should've been implemented in the new design and add some gold trim to balance out all the black. I think his gloves should be changed to be more stylish along with the silver plating. If it had these tweaks, Ky's new design would be perfect.  

Design Rating: A(Great!) CHIPP ZANUFF ------------------------ The reveal of Chipp's redesign has mostly been positive, but all of us immediately said "He is so BUFF!" People say he looks handsome now and have joked he worked out at the same gym as Chris Redfield, XD. Let's look at Chipp's previous design!

Chipp's iconic look definitely displays the street-punk style and rowdy persona. This perfectly fits with his dark past of being a former biochemical drug dealer and addict. He has wild spiky hair, small red earrings, and a leather choker around his neck. The fishnet undershirt is both punk-style and those who practice ninjitsu wears. He has fingerless gloves with silver, square-shaped plating. This aspect is also on his belt and short-length boots. There's two leather buckles strapped around the right leg of his white pants and has on a loose-fitting ninja vest with silver buttons. This highlights his newly adopted values he got from his mentor and father-like figure Master Tsuyoshi. Chipp even has on black eyeliner around his eyes to emphasizes the punk look. Since he primarily wears black and white with hints of red, this tells about his personality. Black and white together obviously means viewing things in a straightforward way instead of complex like gray. Red conveys of his hot-headed masculinity, passion, and impatient nature. Combined with the other colors, it shows Chipp's other side of having pure intentions, even though it doesn't always come across right.

In Xrd SIGN, only minor tweaks were made such as adding a red sash attached to his belt, extra detail on his pants and boots, and slightly thicker eyeliner. Ever since becoming president of a (currently) unofficial nation dubbed "Eastern Chipp Kingdom", Chipp's personality seemed to have mellowed some, though still has his impulsive tendencies. Chipp has been through alot of character development since the beginning. Now for his redesign for GG Strive starting with his face.

One of the things I notice about Chipp's face is while it's still narrow, it's a little fuller and smoother with slightly higher cheek bones. His chin is also about an inch or 2 wider than how it was in the Xrd series. His eyes still has the same defined shape, but the eyeliner isn't as thick. These tweaks to his facial features makes him look handsome and approachable instead of angry and rough. But his fiesty side is still there because besides his eye shape, his upper teeth now has some small fangs. Now to see a full body picture...

Chipp's hair also got tweaked; tt's still spiky, but more stylish instead of wild. Instead of strands of hair rest on his forehead, he has noticeable asymmetrical bangs. Besides his red earrings, Chipp's 2 main colors(black and white) is kept along with a little more red from the strings attached to his ninja gauntlets and strapped sandals. He still has the red sash attached to his belt, though this time he has a thick, rope belt(I think it's called "Obi"). His white pants is very loose-fitting and no longer has twin buckle straps, but does have a little more detail with the side silver buttons. On his upper body, Chipp has on a leather vest with a form-fitting, sleeveless turtleneck. The height of the collar covers his mouth and contains buckle straps. This look is inspired from his design in "The Butterfly and Her Gale".

It has aspects of the high collar, gauntlets, and boots, even though the boots was tweaked to be sandals. This redesign shows Chipp fully embraces Japanese culture and the ways of ninjitsu. I think it may also hint of him being or becoming a master himself and training others, especially with how he's gotten so muscular. The way they mixed old and new with Chipp's redesign is amazing and love the tweaks to his face and hair. I do think his pants maybe a bit too wide along with the rope-belt, but other than that his look is perfect.

Design Rating: S++(Awesome!) AXL LOW ------------------- "Axl got PANTS!" is the main reaction people had when he got revealed and the majority agree it's a much needed upgrade. This is the 3rd time Axl has gotten major design changes since GG:The Missing Link. His look from GGX and onwards greatly emphasizes he's heavily inspired from real-life singer Axl Rose. For Axl, I'm going look at his redesign for Xrd SIGN.

In comparison to the others, Axl's design was never high-fantasy or elaborate, but it makes sense he's from the 20th century. His look in Xrd mixes aspects from the 1st GG and GGX, which conveys his easy-going nature and trying to adapt to the future he's in while maintaining his values of the past. He still has his signature UK cap, brown fingerless gloves, and matching shoes. His white shirt has a unique black zipper tie that adds a hint of contemporary along with his blue jacket. Attached to his black belt on the hips is cloths of the UK flag and has on blue shorts. Red and blue has mostly been his main colors(with some white) that tells of his peaceful, friendly, and passionate nature. In the story, Axl is finally confronted about why he time-skips and must make a hard decision that forever change his life. The choice he made leads him to major character development along with what role he will play in the story, so he needed another redesign to reflect this.

This design shows Axl has embraced the current timeline while maintaining his love for his country. His fingerless gloves is a lighter brown along with his ankle-length boots. He wears a red plaid jacket with white sleeves and black with orange trim at the helms. Underneath is his a sleeveless, form-fitting tank with 3 zippers at the front and a brown buckle at the mid-section. On his lower body is a belt with a UK buckle and fitted, detailed black pants with zippers on the side. This look is inspired by the concept art.

I notice his new design as a mixture of colors compared to before, though it seems black is the most dominant color. One of the meanings for black is power and control, which fits with how Axl now has control over his Time powers. He also has an aura of confidence compared to his uncertainty in the past games. This is the perfect design for Axl because he looks amazing and conveys his personality well.

Design Rating: S+++(Perfect!)

Thank you for reading this! I'll make a series of this as more characters of the game are revealed in the future!^_^

[basketofverbiage]

Hold On Pt 3

Here is part 3 finally! It took forever to edit because its so long. I had never planned to write a part 4, but now I think I might need to. We are finally past the angst mostly, so things are brightening up a bit.

Warnings: mentions of suicide attempt, hospitals, therapy, mentions of rape, mentions of miscarriage, shower with Jin (no funny business, all fluff)

Word count: 10,358

Part 1  Part 2 Part 4

When Yoongi had said that the boys were coming back to bring dinner, Y/n did not expect this. She had expected random takeout to suit all their tastes and just a low-key family meal. She did not expect Hoseok and Namjoon to drag a borrowed table in and cover it with a red checked picnic tablecloth and then put flowers in the middle. She did not expect Jimin and Taehyung to come in carrying multiple gift bags and Jungkook to bring soup that Jin’s mother had made. She did not expect that the boys would have brought both she and Seokjin changes of clothes either. She was totally at a loss for words and struggling so hard not to cry when Jungkook ran back out to the car and brought in the biggest bouquet she’d ever seen and his own Cooky plushie for her to snuggle. Y/n was certain that she was undeserving of the kindness and love of these precious men after what she had done. And when she opened the gift bag to see the silk pajamas in her favorite color, she cried for the million-and-first time that day.

“Noona, we just wanted to get some things that you could have to be comfortable in and have some pieces of home here with you since you probably won’t be able to leave yet,” Jungkook murmured as he hugged her tight. “We didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Oh Kookoo, I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m just a little overwhelmed. I don’t deserve any of this after what I did.”

“Yes, Noona, you do. We love you. You are our family. While we don’t know exactly what happened to bring this on, we know that we love you. Let us be your safety net when you are falling and your protectors while you heal,” Jimin piped up as he took his turn to hug her.

“You are so strong, Y/n-noona, but it’s okay not to be sometimes. Isn’t that what you always tell me when I’m overwhelmed?” Taehyung asked. “Let us be strong for both you and Jin-hyung for a while.”

While Y/n was being smothered in love by the maknaes, Yoongi and Seokjin had gathered extra chairs and brought them in. Namjoon had brought in a bucket of ice to go with the drinks that Jungkook and Jimin had brought to go with dinner, and Hoseok had begun dishing out the food. The boys circled their chairs all around Y/n’s hospital bed and they all ate and drank together, chattering and laughing and just being a big goofy family for a while. They had all been so worried and so scared for so long that the relief that Y/n really was okay had made them all slightly giddy.

Seokjin kept an eye on Y/n but let his brothers take the lead in her care and distract her for a little while. As everyone finished with the soup and passed around the pastries for dessert, Namjoon broke the lull that had settled on the room.

“Jin-hyung, Y/n, I just wanted to let you know that you are welcome to stay at the dorms with us for a while if you want. I know that going back to your apartment may be difficult at first, so I wanted you to know that I got Jin-hyung’s room ready for you. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Thank you, Joonie. We haven’t really discussed what will happen when we get the okay to leave. Y/n’s therapist will be coming in tomorrow so that we can have a long talk about everything and make plans. I want to make her transition as easy as I can. But I will have to go back. The bathroom…” Jin’s voice trailed off when he remembered the state they’d left the bathroom in.

“You don’t have to worry about anything. Hobi-hyung and I went today and I cleaned up the bathroom. It’s good as new. And Hobi-hyung tidied up the kitchen,” Taehyung spoke up gently and gave Seokjin’s hand a squeeze.

Y/n sat there in silence for a few moments before taking Seokjin’s hand in hers for some strength before beginning to talk to the boys. She told them everything that had happened, from the rape to her depression, and the culmination the day before. The boys sat in various shades of emotion from cold, blue rage rolling off of Yoongi in waves to the shock clear on Hoseok and Namjoon’s faces. Jungkook’s face was tinged red and had hardened in his attempt to keep the flashpoint of anger under his own skin, while Jimin looked worried and Taehyung looked slightly appalled.

“I just needed to tell you all everything. I didn’t want to have secrets anymore. I told Jinnie everything this afternoon, and so he’s had some time to process it all little. But hopefully my therapist will have some ideas of what to do and better management than just idle chatting from day to day and week to week. It helped some, but obviously not enough,” Y/n quietly finished.

“Y/n, thank you for trusting us with this. I’m glad you told me this. It actually opens the floor for me to tell you both what I spoke with Sejin-hyung about this afternoon. We both agreed that while there is about another month before we have any overseas tour dates or events, it is extremely important that you not be here alone. Sejin-hyung actually suggested this and I fully agree. You will be going with us when we go abroad. It may be a little overwhelming to do all that traveling, but I know you have the option to work from home on most of your assignments. You can continue with your work, just from other countries. We also discussed that instead of staying mostly in hotels, we will try to book houses or chalets in the cities we go to so that we are all nearby whenever you need us and you aren’t having to keep up with 7 different hotel room numbers scattered about a hotel. You can just step out of your bedroom and yell and we can all come running,” Namjoon explained.

Seokjin’s face immediately fell into a state of shock that Namjoon had already taken care of the request he had planned on making without even knowing why he needed it. And then he had taken it an entire step further.

“Namjoon-ah, I don’t know what to say,” Seokjin started.

“Don’t say anything. Y/n may be your girlfriend, but she is our sister. And we want to help. So please, let us.”

As the boys were cleaning up the room, Y/n stepped into the bathroom to freshen up a bit before bed. The nurses had removed her IV line earlier that day and had given her the okay to have a shower. Taehyung had brought in her shower items from home, and that helped. She would no longer smell like a hospital and hopefully she would feel less in shock and overwhelmed. In the blackness of everything she had been struggling with, she had never anticipated the boys to react this way. She honestly had fully convinced herself that Seokjin would leave her and she would lose all seven of them in one fell swoop; to think that they had gone to such efforts to make sure she felt their comfort and their love had her crying into the shower all over again. She tried to keep the sobs quiet so that they wouldn’t hear but was apparently unsuccessful because Seokjin barged in the door a few minutes later.

“Baby, you okay? I heard you crying…”

“I’m just…I didn’t expect any of this. I thought you would leave me and I would lose them too. I just…I don’t deserve any of you.”

“Oh Princess, you do. You did not deserve what happened to you when we were away, but none of us will let anything like that happen to you. In fact, if the police ever find who hurt you, we may have to lock Yoongi-chi and Jungkookie in the practice room to keep them from killing them with their bare hands,” Seokjin said.

She hadn’t noticed, but he had stripped down while she was standing with her eyes closed, forehead pressed to the tile of the small shower, and had climbed in with her. Seokjin pulled her close to him and kissed her forehead. “Let us help you, Love. You are no longer alone in this.”

Seokjin took the time to wash and condition her long hair while she cried a bit more about everything and mourned the tiny lost life she hadn’t realized that she was attached to before it was ripped away from her. After finishing slowly showering both of them, Seokjin helped her step out of the shower and dried her off himself, then rubbed her favorite amber scented lotion on her back, arms, and legs. While he dried himself more, she put on the beautiful new pajamas Jimin and Jungkook had bought her and brushed her teeth. Once they were both dressed and had brushed their teeth they stepped out into the room. Y/n still had her hair wrapped in a towel and her hairbrush in her hand, but before she could think about brushing her hair, Jimin pulled her over to sit in the chair in front of him and slowly and gently detangled her dark curls. He brushed her hair then handed the brush over to Taehyung, who braided her hair in pigtails so that it would be cute, but out of the way for sleeping. When she took it down in the morning, it would have beautiful kinky waves that she wouldn’t have to worry with styling properly.

The boys seemed to be playing a very unusual game of Hot Potato, and Y/n was the potato. As soon as Taehyung had finished with braiding her hair, Y/n got pulled over to Hoseok. Hoseok gently applied her nighttime moisturizer to her face then hugged her tightly for a few minutes. He would never tell, but he had been having flashbacks to the dried blood on the bathroom floor all evening and just needed to hug her to feel that she was really okay. He kissed her gently on top of her head and whispered something in her ear that made her smile softly and say, “I know, Hoseokie. I promise I won’t.”

Next to gather her attention was Yoongi. He had had time to settle his anger while she and Seokjin had been showering, and was much calmer than he was before. When Hoseok had finished with his time with her, Yoongi reached out and pulled her over into his lap. He hugged her tightly. “Love, it’s going to be a horrific battle from here on out. You’ve already been fighting, but by yourself. But the cavalry is here now, and we got you. Okay?” When she softly agreed, he let her up off his lap, only for her to be yanked into a tight hug by Namjoon. Y/n’s back was to the group, so only they could see the tears glistening in his eyes as he stopped being the tough leader and allowed himself to simply feel all the fear, sorrow, and relief of the last 29 or so hours. “I love you, Y/n. You are an amazing friend and sister to me. Please let us help. Please come stay with us when you get to leave,” he begged into her ear.

“I can’t promise that, Joonie-bug, but Jinnie and I will discuss it with Dr. Kang tomorrow and see what she says. If she thinks it’s a good idea, we will go from there.”

Finally, Jungkook got his chance. He had been so antsy while she was out of his sight. Y/n was the big sister he had never had and had been the first one he thought to call when things went well or if he was upset lately. So, when he had his chance he kissed her cheek then hugged her as tightly as he could. He was angry at the bastards who had hurt his Noona and it had triggered his protective streak. Jungkook did not want to leave the hospital but he knew that they all needed to go home and rest. Seokjin would stay and they would meet with Dr. Kang in the morning. She was meant to come round at 9:30 am and Seokjin had promised to call them all to update them then. So he squeezed her one more time and said, “Noona, Jin-hyung is going to be with you tonight. I want to stand guard outside the door, but my hyungs won’t let me. So I’m going home, but if you need anything, even just a hug, just call me or text me and I’ll be here so fast your head will spin.”

“Okay, Kookoo, I promise I will. Go home and sleep for a while, Baby Bunny,” Y/n giggled. The special nickname she had given him relaxed the tension in his heart a little and he felt a bit better about going home.

After another round of hugs, forehead kisses, I-love-yous, and please-sleep-wells, the six boys left Y/n and Seokjin to settle in for the night. The hospital bed was so small compared to their bed at home, but somehow, neither of them minded. The tight space was actually welcomed because Seokjin could feel every breath Y/n took and it quieted the voice that kept asking what if this is a dream and she’s really gone. It was nearly 11 pm when they were finally able to settle in for the night. Even with their nap earlier, Seokjin was so tired from the roller coaster of emotions they’d been on, and as soon as he was sure she was settling safely into dreams, he fell deeply into sleep.

Seokjin startled awake after having a strange dream about falling in a hole to find Y/n no longer in bed. At first, he didn’t think anything about it, but then he panicked a little because he had not left her side the entire time since she’d woken up. Just as he was climbing out of the bed to go look for her, she stepped out of the bathroom.

“Jinnie, it’s okay. I’m coming back to bed now. I just needed to pee.”

His heart didn’t stop pounding until she climbed back into the bed and curled up as close to him as she could get. He had a feeling that he might feel like that more than he’d like to for a while and was so glad that they weren’t leaving for tour for a bit. Even though she was going with them and he had that peace of mind, he felt like he needed her beside him constantly to make sure she had really survived. She drifted off to sleep again fairly quickly, but Seokjin laid awake for a while longer just allowing her deep breathing to comfort him enough that he could sleep again.

 Seokjin woke up again when the sun was just beginning to peek in through the window on the other side of the room. Y/n was still sleeping soundly with her head pressed to his chest. She looked so beautiful in the early morning light with her lips slightly pursed in her dream state and some tiny unruly curls bursting out of her braids. She still looked a little more pale than usual, but the doctor had said that the pallor would subside after a few days when her body had had time to begin remaking the blood that had been lost. While she’d had several transfusions, she had lost more blood than they’d reintroduced, so her body would just need to remake it. The doctor had also said that she’d likely feel a little colder than usual until her blood was replenished.

The clock on Seokjin’s phone said 6:37 am. He was usually leaving for practice around now, unless they had a special event. He had just decided to try to go back to sleep when the door squeaked open and Jungkook slipped in with 3 cups of coffee and what seemed to be breakfast.

“Jungkookie, what are you doing here so early?”

“I just wanted to bring you both breakfast, Hyung, and coffee too. I barely slept wondering how Noona was.”

“ ‘m fine, Kookoo. Wha time is it?” Y/n asked as she stirred around and opened her eyes.

“It’s 6:45 am, Baby,” Seokjin told her.

“Ugh, it’s ass o’clock. Why couldn’t you wait another hour or two?” she grumbled.

Jungkook laughed at that. “Oh my precious, sweet, lovely Noona. You never have been a morning person. But that’s okay. I came bearing gifts. I brought you a caramel macchiato and Yoongi-hyung made breakfast and sent you both some.”

Y/n blinked several times trying to decide if she’d heard correctly. “Yoongi-chi made breakfast? At ass o’clock?”

“Yes. He did. He made a breakfast pie, sliced fresh fruit, and sent toast as well. You should feel special,” Jungkook giggled.

“I’m amazed that he’s not pretending to be a rock. Is he sick?” she asked.

“No, Noona. I’m not sure he slept more than I did. We both were a bit worried about you still and had trouble settling down last night.”

Before Y/n had the chance to say anything to that, Jungkook began to unpack the breakfast he had brought in and the lovely smell filled up the entire room. Yoongi could definitely cook when he wanted to, and that showed through. He had to have gotten up super early to put together the pie alone, and Y/n was very thankful for his efforts.

 Yoongi had actually not slept at all the night before but hadn’t told anyone that. When he realized at 4 am that it was useless to kept tossing and turning about the bed, he got up and made coffee. As he sat sipping the liquid stamina, he had the idea to make breakfast. His mom had always made a breakfast pie for special occasions and had shown him how. If he made it, then someone could take some over to Seokjin and Y/n. In order to feed all of them, he knew he’d have to bake at least 3 pies so he got to work. The pies were finished, crust from scratch and everything by 4:45 am and in the oven baking away. Yoongi was amazed that he still felt antsy, so he began slicing up strawberries, a pineapple, and a watermelon to go with it. He had hidden away a beautiful loaf of one of Y/n’s lovely sourdough loaves in the freezer for a rainy day, so he pulled it out and sliced the entire loaf for toast. Since it had been frozen, he buttered the slices and toasted them in the oven as the pies rested before being sliced.

Their apartment smelled amazing, and one by one the boys drifted sleepily into the kitchen. The only one who seemed wide awake was Jungkook, and he wandered out towel drying his hair a bit more from a shower. With one look at each other, Yoongi and Jungkook had realized that neither had slept. Yoongi had prepared two containers with servings of breakfast to take over to the hospital but made a third quickly.

“Jungkookie, will you please take these over to the hospital to Jin-hyung and Y/n? I put breakfast for you in there too, and money for you to pick up Starbucks for you three on the way,” he said softly.

“Of course, Hyung. How did you know I wanted to get to the hospital right away?”  Jungkook questioned.

“You’re the only one here fully showered and dressed, and I think you slept less than I did last night. So go on, Kookie. Go check on them and report back. And make sure Y/n eats every bite of the fruit on her plate. She needs the vitamins to finish healing.”

 After they’d finished having breakfast, Y/n stepped into the bathroom to get ready for her therapist to come by, leaving Jungkook a chance to speak along with Seokjin.

“Jin-hyung, is she really okay?” he asked tentatively. “I mean, I know she’s not okay okay, but she’s alright physically now?”

“According to the doctor, yes. But we have a long way to go for her to be mentally alright. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure I’m okay. When she’s out of my sight, I start to feel panicky again. That’s something I need to get under control quickly so I don’t suffocate her.”

“I think it will be understandable for a little while, but maybe we can help with that too. I want to help Noona as much as I can. I couldn’t really sleep last night because I wanted to be able to protect her,” Jungkook admitted. “I really hope the doctor says she can stay with us for a little while. I think we would all feel better if we know she’s nearby for a bit. Otherwise, we are going to take over your apartment.”

Jin laughed a bit at that thought. “Eight of us crammed in our tiny apartment would be a stretch. It might violate the fire code, Kook.”

The bathroom door opened up and Y/n came out in leggings and Jungkook’s oversized hoodie. Her hair was down from the braids and parted to one side so her bangs laid loosely over her forehead. She still had on her slippers and put the pajamas she had removed into her duffle bag in the closet of the hospital room. She checked her phone while Jungkook and Seokjin chatted quietly, and giggled when she saw a message from Yoongi.

Eat well, Princess! I better hear that you ate every bite of the breakfast I slaved over! -Yoongi-chi

Thank you for making a beautiful breakfast at ass o’clock, Yoongi-chi. It was lovely. The only thing left was watermelon seeds. Y/n sent the message back then sat back down on the bed beside Seokjin.

“Jinnie, you better get ready. The hospital doctor said he’d come by before Dr. Kang, and it’s already almost 8.”

At that, Seokjin got up and headed into the bathroom to change clothes and freshen up before facing the looming medical staff. Once the bathroom door closed, Jungkook began packing up the empty containers he had brought breakfast in and set them aside. Y/n jumped slightly when he then climbed into the bed beside her where Seokjin had slept and pulled her into a hug.

“Noona, I just needed to hug you tight this morning. I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about you and worrying. I mean, I know Jin-hyung was here and would take care of you, but I wanted to be here too. I just feel extra protective of you now that I know what happened. And I’m sorry for that. I might drive you crazy with checking on you for a little while until everything settles down.” Jungkook paused for a second before adding, “Hell, who am I kidding? You are about to have 7 overconcerned guard-dogs for a little while, so I hope you will tell us to give you some space if you need it. I just know that with all of us worried, plus Sejin-hyung too, we might be a bit much to handle. But hopefully, if you can stay with us, we will be close by enough that we won’t be constantly bugging you. Has anyone called your office to let them know what is going on?”

“I’m actually not sure. With today being Saturday, I am usually off today and I had taken yesterday off.”

“Is there anyone I can call for you? I think you will need a bit more time away from work, and I’d be happy to run any errands you need,’ Jungkook offered.

When Seokjin walked out of the bathroom, his heart gave a sweet lurch upon coming out to find his baby brother wrapped around the love of his life. They were talking quietly, almost like they were sharing secrets, but Seokjin could hear their conversation now that he was out of the bathroom.

“I actually called Y/n’s boss the evening I found her. She told me that you can take as much time as you need to get settled and properly ready to work again before coming back. She also forbade you from stepping foot into the office before two weeks are up except to let her see with her own eyes that you are okay,” Seokjin laughed out the last part. “She really acted like she was your mom.”

“We’re a tight little office, you know,” Y/n said with a soft smile. “We have to take care of each other.”

Jungkook squeezed Y/n one more time, then released her and kissed her gently on the forehead. “I should go. I’m in Jin-hyung’s spot. Plus, I have to report back to Yoongi-hyung how much you both ate. If he doesn’t deem it well enough, he may show up to force feed you fruits.”

 Jimin sat curled up on the sofa in the boys’ apartment with a blanket thrown across his lap and his laptop propped on the arm of the sofa. He was researching the best way to help people who had lived through traumas, and wasn’t coming up with much luck. He wanted to do something tangible that he could hold in his own hands to help. Somehow, being able to see and touch something that would help would make him feel like he actually was contributing to Y/n’s healing process. She had done so much to help him heal over time and battle off the demons that rose up from time to time to shout that he wasn’t good enough or slim enough, and now he wanted to do something helpful in return. He kept finding things that said to make sure they had professional help. Y/n already had someone taking care of that aspect with her therapist and with Jin-hyung.

After reading several articles about PTSD and similar things, he realized that there may not be anything tangible he might be able to provide outside of hugs and love from time to time and just being there. While he was sure that this was something he could readily offer, he still wanted to do something special, especially if Y/n would be staying with them for a bit. That’s when the idea struck him. Y/n loved to bake. She had told him once that it helped her so much when she felt stressed out or pressured from work. He wasn’t sure what items they had in their kitchen related to baking as none of them ever bothered. If they were craving anything baked, they’d either order it from somewhere or ask Y/n to make it. The only baking items they had were flat cookie sheets that Jin-hyung put other pans on top of to make sure they didn’t overflow in the oven and the pie tins that Yoongi-hyung used to make the breakfast pies in.

Jimin spent another few minutes on Google trying to sort out all the things someone might need for baking and made a long list of things they’d need. He didn’t want to just order them online because they might not be here in time. Who knew that you needed some of these things? Like, what are pie stones? Who puts rocks in their pie? Hopefully, Y/n would know what to do with them, because they were on his list along with a special kind of mixer with a dough hook, several types of pans, mixing bowls, thermometers, and a plethora of other smaller gadgets that just seemed fun.

With his list in hand, Jimin knew he needed a shopping partner who would be as enthusiastic as he was, so he set out to find Hoseok. Hobi-hyung loved to shop and his sister liked to bake too, so if they got stuck picking something, they could always call her for help. Jimin finally found him holed up in the little studio at their apartment with Namjoon and Yoongi. They were working on arranging a rap-line only track.

“Hobi-hyung, can you go shopping with me?”

“What are you shopping for, Jimin-ssi?” he asked.

Since he’d already interrupted them, he told them his idea for something to help Y/n and his reasons. Then he showed them his list. They all seemed to like his idea, and Yoongi added a few things to his list.

“Buy the girl a proper rolling pin. I literally used a steel water bottle to roll my pie crust this morning. You also need to add cooling racks, some trivets, and a baking stone to your list. Find a square baking stone if you can. Most of them are aimed at baking pizza, and are round, but I know that Y/n uses one sometimes for some of her more finicky loaves.”

“Oh yeah! And you should buy that one mixer that comes in pretty colors. I bet they make a purple one! It won’t really match our kitchen, but who cares?” Namjoon added. He really had no idea about things needed for baking, but he’d seen commercials for stand mixers advertising all colors of the rainbow.

After chatting for a few more minutes, Jimin and Hoseok left the studio to go on their shopping trip. Just having a plan for everything made them feel like they were doing something more than all sitting around worrying, and it took the edge off the constant anxiety they’d all walked around since Seokjin had found Y/n in the bathroom two days ago.

 When Jungkook got home from the hospital, he washed out the containers that he’d taken breakfast in and loaded them in the dishwasher. After seeing Y/n with his own eyes and hugging her for a bit, he felt a bit more at ease. Seokjin had promised to let them all know what the plan was after discussing everything with Y/n’s doctors. Jungkook actually felt his lack of sleep starting to catch up through the coffee he’d had that morning. While everyone seemed to be doing their own thing, he figured he could nap for a while before Seokjin called. As he started down the hall to his room, he was stopped by Taehyung calling to him from his own room.

“Jungkookie, how was our Y/n? Did she eat well?”

“Yeah, hyung, she did. She seemed okay. A bit antsy to speak with the doctors and move forward with a plan. Noona still seemed a little bit sad, but after everything she’s been through, who wouldn’t be sad, you know? I’m more worried that all of us will suffocate her to death with our own worrying and fussing over her than I am about her. Noona is strong and she’s helped all of us so much. I know she will be able to bounce back eventually. It’s just going to take some time.”

“Yeah. How do you think we can help best? I know hugs and just listening and stuff, but I don’t want to overwhelm her. We are 7 men, and men are the ones that hurt her so badly. I want her to be here with us, but I don’t want it to make her be afraid either,” Taehyung confessed softly. “That’s all I’ve thought about since she told us last night. How often we all made her hug us when we got home, even if she flinched away a little. All the times she looked so exhausted like she hadn’t slept well, and she explained it away with work stress instead of telling us that being near us was ripping open her old wounds. I don’t want to delay her healing.”

Jungkook completely understood what Taehyung meant. He’d laid awake nearly all night thinking the same thing. “I know. I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I was so angry at those assholes that hurt her, and worried about her. I seriously wanted to camp out at the door of her hospital room as a protector, but Namjoon-hyung made me come home. But while she was getting dressed and stuff, Jin-hyung and I talked about it a little. He said that he was planning to speak with her therapist about it. If she gives the go-ahead for Y/n to stay with us, he’s hoping that Dr. Kang will do a sort of crash course with all of us. Maybe meet together with us as a group and give us an idea of what to look for regarding Y/n’s emotional health and also let us know the types of things that will help and will hurt. He also said that he might discuss meeting with her too on his own to help with the trauma of finding her like that.”

“That’s probably a good idea, Kook. I know you’ve been in their master bathroom. The entire white tile floor was covered in dried blood except for the place where she was sitting. I honestly have no idea how Jin-hyung and the paramedics didn’t track it all over their house. It took nearly half a bottle of bleach to get it all up. I ruined the mop I used and a scrub brush I found under the sink trying to get it all out of the grout. Hobi-hyung nearly passed out when he saw it.”

Jungkook paled a little at the thought of his sweet Noona surrounded by her own blood. He cursed under his breath, then said, “I can’t imagine seeing that. It’s horrific in my mind, but was probably worse in person. Jin-hyung said he’d call us all later and give us an update on the plan. I was going to try to have a nap first since I didn’t sleep last night. Wanna go nap with me?”

Taehyung just nodded and grabbed his pillow then followed Jungkook across the hall to his room. He hadn’t changed out of his pajamas that morning, and Jungkook had worn sweats to the hospital that morning. They curled up together in Jungkook’s bed. Even though they all had their own rooms for the most part now, in times of stress and worry, they tended to sleep better together. During the most stressful times of their lives just after debuting, they all slept in one room, and they tended to gravitate back together because there was comfort and safety in numbers.

 “Well, do you think Hobi and Jimin have bought out the entire kitchen store yet?” Namjoon asked. They had left 2 hours ago, and had promised to call when they got back to get help carrying everything upstairs.

“I don’t know. But I’ve been thinking. They are buying all the necessaries for baking except actual baking supplies. I used the very last of the little flour we had this morning. Do you think we should go buy ingredients?”

“We could. But I have a lifetime ban from the kitchen, remember? So I have no idea what goes into baking.”

Yoongi smirked a bit at that, then said, “I can make pie crust and that’s it. But we have the whole internet at our disposal. How about we start there?”

They both spent several minutes looking up recipes for things they knew that Y/n had baked before and started a list. By the time they were done, the list had 27 items on it.

“Who knew there were that many different kinds of flour out there?” Namjoon muttered as they did a final glance over the list.

“I didn’t. But there is one thing that we need to get that we can’t buy at the store. Y/n won’t use any leavening except her starter. Jin-hyung will have to get that from their apartment,” Yoongi said thoughtfully.

“We can send him on a special expedition for that later. Should we go ahead and go pick up these things?”

“Yeah, and we should probably let Jimin and Hobi know to call Tae and JK if they beat us back. But you know how Hobi gets when he shops. We will probably beat them back.”

 After three hours and meetings with two different doctors and a discharge planner, Seokjin felt drained. They had gotten the okay for Y/n to leave the hospital tomorrow with the agreement that they would both meet with Dr. Kang daily for at least the next two weeks and that she would stay at the dorm with the members; while she had not expressly stated that Y/n should not be left alone, Dr. Kang had heavily implied it, so it made sense for them to go to the dorm. It would also relieve the other members. She also had agreed to meet with the rest of the group to advise of triggers that Y/n may have from the trauma, signs of things to look for, and the best way to help with panic attacks or if she started to spiral downward again. Typically, after a suicide attempt, an individual would be hospitalized for 2 weeks minimum and on strict suicide watch. However, because of who Seokjin was and the amount of attention that the hospital was starting to gain from paparazzi photographing the guys entering and leaving, Dr. Kang made an exception for Y/n. Also, knowing that she was going to be essentially surrounded by 8 mother hens (all seven members and Sejin, who Seokjin had called to arrange the meeting between the guys and Dr. Kang), it had eased the doctor’s mind considerably. Seokjin felt exhausted by the entire morning and could only imagine how Y/n felt. She had fallen asleep almost immediately after the discharge planner had left and the nurse had come in to take her vital signs.

Y/n’s head was resting on Seokjin’s chest in the hospital bed. Her breathing was steady and even, and it was a miracle to him. It was a miracle that she had survived all the things she had. His eyes welled up with tears as he thought of how strong she had tried to be for him and all the things she had suffered through silently over the months. Why had she ever thought he would leave her for something not her fault? He felt so guilty; he still felt like he had been a horrible boyfriend and like he hadn’t loved her well enough. If he had, she would have known that he would have helped shoulder all of that burden.

She was right about one thing though. If she had called him the night it happened, hell yes, he’d have been on the first flight out of LAX he could have caught. Her wellbeing trumped ARMY every time. He loved his fans, he really did, but she was a higher priority. Y/n’s very existence kept the happy, playful Jin that ARMY knew alive and going, so she came first; she took precedence over nearly anything he could think of, with his brothers and family a very close second. His own wellbeing came third on that list, but he also knew that he needed to be careful with that ruling. He needed to take care of himself to take care of her and support her better. That is part of why he agreed to meeting with Dr. Kang on his own. He kept seeing flashes of her in that giant puddle of blood when he closed his eyes, and it made him want to cling to her more than usual. Right now, Y/n was vulnerable and still recovering from her suicide attempt, so she was more willing to accept his affections. But once she was feeling better and more able to do her own thing, his constant presence and need to touch her would drive her crazy.

Seokjin knew he needed to update the members so that they could prepare for her to come home and also to alter their schedules a bit, but for the time being, he was so tired. He decided that while Y/n was using him as her pillow, he might as well nap too. In a few hours, he’d call and update everyone, but for now he let Y/n’s deep breathing lull him to sleep.

 When Taehyung woke up a couple hours after curling up with Jungkook to sleep, the first thing he noticed was how quiet it still was around the dorm. It was 2:34 pm according to his phone, and everyone was usually up and doing their own thing by now. It was rarely ever this silent in their home. Just after checking the time on his phone, Jungkook’s phone starting ringing on his bedside table.

“Kook, wake up and answer your phone,” Tae grumbled, shaking him hard to wake him up.

Jungkook moaned then grabbed his phone. “Hello? You’re where? Oh. Yeah, we can come down. Gotta pee first though…Okay. Bye, Hyung.” Jungkook sat up on the side of the bed and stretched before tossing his phone aside.

“Get up, Hyung. We have to go down to help Hobi-hyung and Jimin-ssi carry some stuff up. They’ve apparently been shopping for Noona.”

While Jungkook headed off to the restroom, Taehyung went into his room and slipped shoes on and grabbed his key to get back in. Then, he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge in the kitchen to sip on before heading down. By the time Jungkook came out of the bathroom, he’d drank half the bottle. Jungkook finished the bottle off in the elevator down to the parking garage. When they got to Hoseok’s parking space and saw both the backseat and the trunk full of bags and packages, they were both a little surprised.

“Did you buy an entire shop, hyungs? We’re going to have to make two trips!” Jungkook exclaimed.

Jimin laughed, then explained, “I wanted to buy everything Y/n would need for baking, then realized our kitchen has no baking utensils. So, I made a list from searching on the internet of things she might need. Yoongi-hyung and Namjoons added a few things to the list, then while Hobi-hyung and I were out, we got some recommendations from a nice grandma at the shops and called both our moms and Hobi-hyung’s sister.”

Even with all 4 of them carrying as much as they possibly could, it still took 3 trips to get everything upstairs. Then, it took a solid hour to unpack the bags and put all the different items out on the counter. Jungkook snapped a picture and sent it to Seokjin, captioned, “Did Jimin-ssi and Hobi-hyung forget anything Y/n needs for baking here at the dorms? They bought out two whole shops.”

 Namjoon and Yoongi had thought that going to a regular supermarket would be enough, but some of the items on their list were missing. Was buckwheat flour really something that had to come from a specialty store? And why is powdered milk so expensive? They were shocked at the cost of some of the bread-baking ingredients. They had never really considered how much those ingredients were or that they were even used. Namjoon had figured that the nuts and dried fruits for her granola recipe and some of the extracts might be a bit pricy, but the flour surprised him. She’d been spending loads of money on baking for them. They made so much more money than she did that Yoongi felt a bit like they had been robbing her. If any of the seven of them wanted a specific baked good, they just asked Y/n and the next day she’d show up with it. He felt a bit guilty about it since occasionally he’d ask for something extravagant just to tease her, and she’d make it anyway. Like that special dark bread he’d had when they had been in Berlin. Somehow, Y/n had recreated it perfectly. He had looked up a recipe and the list of ingredients was insane, including unsweetened chocolate, coffee, fennel seeds, molasses and rye flour among the list.

After around 2 hours shopping and 3 different shops later, they finally made it home and called Jungkook and Taehyung to come help carry everything up. Jungkook laughed when he saw what they had, and said, “I don’t know where we are going to put all this. Jimin-ssi and Hobi-hyung bought out 2 shops and they’ve eaten our kitchen.”

Even with that warning, Yoongi was shocked by the sheer volume of kitchen gadgets covering their kitchen island and most of the counter space. Thankfully, he and Namjoon had planned ahead a bit and had rearranged a shelf in their pantry to house nothing but the baking ingredients. They had also bought multiple canisters for storing the different flours and other dry ingredients that all had a chalkboard space for labeling the contents. With the help of the others, Namjoon and Yoongi were able to transfer them all to the pantry on their designated shelf. After they were finished, Jungkook snapped a photo of the shelf as well and texted it to Seokjin too. The caption on this one was, “Namjoon and Yoongi bought out the baking section of the supermarket and at least one specialty store. They decided that Jimin-ssi and Hobi-hyung were not going to outdo their efforts. While they were all out conquering shops, Taehyungie-hyung and I had a fabulous nap.”

When Y/n opened her eyes after crashing, the clock on the hospital room wall said 6:00 pm. She moved carefully so as not to wake Seokjin, who was still sleeping. After climbing out of the bed to use the restroom, she stopped for a second just to appreciate how beautiful he was even in sleep. How did I ever get so damn lucky, she thought to herself. She used the restroom, then washed her hands and brushed her teeth before stepping out into the room. Seokjin’s phone started vibrating on the bedside table as she was closing the bathroom door.

“Jinnie, wake up, love. Your phone is ringing.”

Seokjin startled awake then grabbed his phone. “Hey, Namjoon-ah. Yeah, we just woke up. No, I haven’t seen any messages from JK yet, but I’ll check them. Oh, okay. That works perfectly. We can update you when you get here then…See you soon.”

Upon hanging up the call, Seokjin mentioned that the guys were just parking outside the hospital and that they were bringing dinner. Y/n watched in amusement as his mouth dropped open and his eyes got wide. “Those boys have lost their minds,” he mumbled. “Well, Baby, you sure are in for a surprise tomorrow is all I will say.”

Before Y/n had a chance to question anything, the boys came crashing in the door with a variety of take out containers and beverages. Taehyung was also carrying another bouquet of flowers, which he shyly handed over while kissing her on the cheek. With Seokjin’s help, they wrangled up the table they had used the night before and placed out the chairs that had been stacked in the corner of the room. After spreading out all the different takeout boxes, they all just picked around at the random things spread out; while they had each chosen a specific meal, everyone just ate off of everyone else’s plates anyway, so they needn’t have bothered. After the silly dinner chatter quieted down, Seokjin filled in the group about the meetings with the doctors and the plan for Y/n’s hospital discharge.

“Namjoon-ah, Sejin-hyung will be calling you to let you know about the time for the meeting for everyone with Dr. Kang. I may or may not be in that meeting since I’ll be meeting with her daily. We also all will have her phone number in case we need it. For the first 2 weeks, Dr. Kang has said that she doesn’t want Y/n to be alone for extended periods of time. Now, while that means that we will all be hovering a bit more, Y/n is allowed 30 minutes maximum at a time alone. Y/n is an introvert, so she needs time alone; besides, going from living with one busy man to living with 7 busy men may be system shock for her to an extent and she’ll need time to process that,” Seokjin explained.

They all seemed perfectly okay with that idea. Hoseok and the maknae line were all loudly excited until Yoongi shushed them by reminding them where they were. After a bit, the group cleaned up everything and left to return home to finish their preparations for Y/n and Seokjin to return to the dorms.

Little did they know, they guys had begun preparing a small party to welcome them. In fact, Taehyung and Jungkook took a detour before returning to the apartment to buy party decorations. They didn’t buy a ton of decorations as they wanted to make a banner themselves, but they did buy some brightly colored streamers and some tastefully colored balloons and a few lightly scented candles to place around the kitchen and living room. Y/n had sent the three bouquets of flowers the boys had brought plus the two bouquets sent by her office home with the boys, so Jungkook also bought several vases to split up the larger bouquets. Then there could be flowers scattered throughout the apartment. The final stop they made before returning home was for a few gifts from the two of them. The others had already gone all out, so they wanted to have special gifts as well.

 The night passed quickly, but the discharge seemed to take forever. Dr. Kang had come in and met with Y/n and Seokjin before they could leave and did a full couples therapy session as a preparation for the upcoming weeks. After nearly an hour and a half of time with Dr. Kang and then a final hour-long examination from the hospital doctor, they were finally able to leave with discharge papers in hand. Namjoon had arranged for a car to pick them up and bring them to the apartment since Seokjin had ridden in the ambulance to the hospital and his car was at their apartment. Seokjin knew he’d have to go back to the apartment to pick up more clothes for the both of them and some other items, like their laptops, but Namjoon had assured that they should have most of the things they’d need for a day or so. They’d have time to settle in before returning.

Seokjin still had a key to the group’s apartment because he’d stay at the dorm from time to time when they had schedules at odd hours or if they flew home from overseas promotions in the middle of the night, so they didn’t have to knock on the door. Since Namjoon had arranged the car, Seokjin texted him to let him know that they were on their way. When they arrived, Seokjin unlocked the door and carried their bags in. He initially didn’t pay attention to the state of the room until he heard Y/n gasp. Then, he looked up and his mouth dropped open. There were royal purple balloons taped up in several places throughout the living room and a giant banner that said, “Welcome Home, Noona! We Purple You!” strung above the entrance to the kitchen. All 6 of the other members were standing in the entrance way with helium balloons and royal purple roses in their hands.

“Surprise?” Jungkook called out softly.

“Oh gosh, guys. You didn’t have to do this,” Y/n choked out, tears streaming down her face.

“No, but we wanted to, Noona,” Taehyung said, pulling her into a big hug. “Don’t cry unless they are happy tears. We are just getting started. You haven’t even opened presents yet.”

“Presents?”

Seokjin laughed heartily at that. “The boys got a little excited, Baby. I hope you are ready to drown in their affection.”

At that, Yoongi stepped forward and took Y/n by the hand. “We just wanted you to feel at home here with us. So we bought a few things so that you can do some of the things you love while you are here.”

When he led her into the kitchen, Y/n cried harder. Nearly every available surface was covered in bakeware. Just at a glance, Y/n saw a royal purple professional grade stand mixer that was still in the box, a set of glass mixing bowls, stainless steel mixing bowls, a flute pan, a baguette pan, whisks in multiple sizes, liquid measuring cups in three sizes, silicone baking mats, a baking stone, and loaf pans in 4 sizes ranging from individual to large. Y/n was in shock a bit, and was struggling to speak.

“This isn’t everything,” Namjoon said softly with a smile. He took her by the hand and led her into the pantry. “You have your own shelf, Y/nie. Yoongi-hyung and I tried to get as many ingredients as we could, but if we forgot something, let us know and we’ll go get it for you.”

Y/n was sobbing by this point. These beautiful men had spent so much time and money on equipment that they probably didn’t even understand the use for just so she would feel at home with them. She pulled Namjoon into a tight hug and croaked out a thank you, then grabbed Yoongi next.

“I just wanted to get something that could help, Noona. You told me once that you bake away your stress, and none of us bake, so we didn’t have anything you’d need. So, Hobi-hyung and I went shopping,” Jimin said gently when Y/n pulled him into a hug.

“Get over here, Hopie,” Y/n said through her tears, and squeezed him tight. “Thank you so much.”

“There are still more presents, Noona. Come sit down please,” Taehyung called from the living room.

Y/n moved toward his voice still in a state of shock and with tears streaming out of her eyes. Seokjin’s eyes were glassy too at the kindness of his brothers. The photos that Jungkook had sent had not done this justice; seeing it all spread out was overwhelming at best. Once they were sitting down, Taehyung and Jungkook pulled out a big beautifully wrapped box and a smaller box.

“Which do you want first, Noona?” Jungkook asked.

After thinking for a few moments, Y/n said, “The smaller one?”

Taehyung giggled then handed her the smaller box. Y/n took a moment to unwrap the lovely silver wrapping paper. Inside the box, there were 8 rings of varying sizes. She looked up a little bit perplexed.

“So, these rings are special. Do you see the pretty blue one in the middle?”

Y/n looked at him and nodded before looking back down at the rings.

“These rings are special. They are all connected together. The blue one in the middle is yours. When you wear it, it will be connected to all the others by Bluetooth on our phones. There is a ring for each of us as well. There is a small button on the underside of the rings. If we push those buttons, we will be able to feel your heart beating in real time. The same works with yours, except you will have to press your button a certain way for each of us. They have been programmed already, and I have a list of the special codes for each of our rings for you. All we have to do is connect them to our Bluetooth,” Taehyung explained. “Now, as long as we each are wearing our rings, you will be able to feel us with you no matter where you are. You never have to feel alone again.”

Taehyung took a moment to distribute the rings to each member. They were all slightly different and suited each one’s style, which amazed Y/n. How in the world had he made this happen on such short notice?

“Okay, now for my present. It’s much simpler, but I think it will help,” Jungkook said, plopping the box in her lap.

“Kookoo, it’s heavy! What is this?” Y/n pondered out loud.

“Open it and find out!”

After unwrapping the dark purple paper, Y/n opened the box to find a soft purple blanket.

“It’s a weighted blanket. I have a friend in Busan who has panic attacks, and she said that she has one and it helps so much when she is anxious or afraid. I’m hoping it will help you on your bad days. While we will always be there for you too, I know that sometimes you will want to be the strong one and try to deal on your own, and this is for those days.”

Y/n pulled him and Taehyung both into a tight hug. “Thank you both so much. I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

The rest of the evening was spent with Y/n and Seokjin trying to settle in a bit while helping the others to put away the bulk of the kitchen gadgets and running the new bakeware through the dishwasher. Y/n was so incredibly touched by the heart of these 7 men and kept pinching herself because she kept thinking she was going to wake up from a dream.

 Y/n was a little bit overwhelmed the first few days. She was not used to being around other people constantly and it was a little bit exhausting. Luckily, she found that when she was starting to feel that way, Yoongi would shoo the others away and take her to his studio. He liked to work in silence, and he was an introvert too, so he understood how loud the other guys’ personalities could be. Y/n savored her time with Yoongi-chi; she would curl up on the couch and nap, read, or play games on her phone for a few hours until she felt better.

The other member that seemed to constantly surprise her was Namjoon. If he noticed she was getting overwhelmed and Yoongi wasn’t around, they would put on hats and face masks and Namjoon would take her on a walk through the park near the apartment. When they were walking, Namjoon wouldn’t say anything. They would just slowly stroll down the path by the river and breath for a bit. When he was sure she was calm, then he’d start to chat with her. Without her knowledge, he actually used the rings that Taehyung had bought to measure her heart rate. He could tell when she was stressed without her ever having to speak up.

Seokjin was her strength. When she had nightmares and woke up screaming, he held her gently and sang to her until she settled down. He cracked jokes when he could to lighten the atmosphere and make her laugh. He went to therapy on his own for a while to learn better how to help her and to help himself, then went with her too when she needed it. On the days that Y/n nearly choked with fear, he guarded her from the other guys and shielded her from their worry and attention. And the day she hit her knees in the practice room from the pain of having lost her baby, he was there to hold her and kiss her and slowly piece her heart back together with his love.

There were days that Y/n was so angry that she needed to get energy out. Jungkook was her go to those days. He’d take her to the gym with him and let her beat the hell out of a punching bag until she felt better. He’d offered to spar with her once and had learned quickly that it was a bad idea. She landed a great left hook to his side and he hadn’t blocked in time; she felt guilty for several days after seeing the bruise she’d left behind and refused to spar with him again after that.

On the days when she had way too much nervous energy, then she baked. While he couldn’t help, Jimin would sit on a stool at the island and fetch ingredients for her out of the pantry. It always amazed him how she’d take a few things and make a dough. Bread was her go to on those days because bread dough loves abuse. She could punch it, slam it down, and smack it around, and the more she did, the better it would turn out. Jimin had to keep an eye on her sometimes though. After she had baked 8 loaves in one day, Jimin had to make her stop baking. He marched her out of the kitchen to the bathroom and handed her a bath bomb. After he heard the hot water start, he cleaned the kitchen and camped out on Seokjin’s bed until she came out. The soak in the tub did wonders for her and she settled down. After that, she’d talk as she baked and be careful not to overdo it.

Taehyung was a softer soul at times and acted as her music therapist. The days when melancholy threatened to swallow her whole, Taehyung would come up to her and say, “Hey Noona, have you heard this song?” He’d distract her with a variety of random music he found, and they’d curl up on his bed and share headphones and talk music for hours. After a while, the sounds would soothe her heart enough that her mood would shift.

Hoseok was the living embodiment of hope. Everyone knows that, but to Y/n he was also joy. Dark days with Hoseok meant going and taking over the practice room and booting anyone else in there out. Hoseok would lock the door and put on the goofiest songs he could find and they’d do the silliest dances they could come up with. Y/n nearly lost it the day he started their “HopeY/n Dance Therapy Session” with Baby Shark. But it always helped. At some point in their silliness, at least one of them would fall in the floor in a pile of laughter. Afterward, there was a bit more light in her world and a little less darkness.

[the-gunslock]

Hiver 4 - North, part 2

This is the second of a 3-part story about Amanda and I. This one is about how one dinner changed my life.

The shipwright waits patiently for her friend, observing the multicolored dusk sky passing by. Her work for the day is done, her back and shoulders are sore, and she would like nothing more than to take a shower and spent a whole day off, being lazy. Which, well, she managed to schedule for the next one. The Hangar won’t implode because of her taking a day to herself. 

She hopes.

As she massages her thigh where her prosthetic leg connects, she hears steps frantically tapping the metal staircase above. She guesses it’s Hiver and beams at the excitement she always carries herself with. It’s kind of adorable, if she had to admit it.

It’s...

“‘S she like this with everyone?” Amanda thought to herself, realizing how busy she has always been to meet Hiver’s clan and friends.

Her question is left unanswered at the Warlock launches herself down into the metallic beam, barely bothering to hover down. She hits it with a CLANG, waving delightedly and jogging to Amanda’s position. She’s practically bouncing as she greets her crush.

“Ay Hiver. What crazy contraption d’you have for me to see?”

“None!”

“Oh, you found a good hand cannon you want to talk about? That’s fine too.”

“Wrong.”

“...Want me to hug you while you vent about horrible Crucible matches?”

“Three strikes, you’re out! No, I want you to come with me, Amanda.”

Amanda is out of ideas for answers. “Alright then”, she says, putting her palms up in ‘defeat’.

She gets up and holds on to the Warlock, who floats them out of the isolated metal beam. She is curious but at least Hiver’s body language shows it’s not something threatening. As they take the elevator from the Tower down to the city, she ponders over her friend.

It’s funny -- how genuine she was, specially for a Warlock. Most were methodical, or cynical. Rahool, Ikora, Asher Mir, all of them acted in such a way that it made her feel so small in comparison.

Sure, it caused conflicts between themselves too, but people who carried the task of guarding and acquiring knowledge had a way to make civilians (and sometimes even other Guardians) feel so belittled, even if they didn’t mean to. It kind of made them hard to hold a conversation, and the feeling of having to shut up and listen is incredibly frustrating.

Hiver, though... She was intelligent, yes. But also… approachable? Charming? Humane?

The human looked sideways at Hiver standing next to her in the Tower elevator. She had an innocent smile on her face and was bobbing her head side-to-side to some song she probably got stuck in her head.

Tender. Yes. Tender was the word Amanda looked for. A quality that made her a friend first and a Warlock second, in her heart. It was less about teacher and disciple, or Guardian and shipwright, and more about Hiver caring for her, and her helping Hiver. It wasn’t totally like helping other Guardians, though -- Hiver appeared to be going the extra mile to make sure she was doing okay, in between missions to save humanity from obliteration.

“Amanda? Let’s go.” Hiver says as the elevator doors open, summoning her sparrow and climbing on. Amanda holds on to her waist and they blaze into the illuminated streets of the City.

“Hiver, you never really told me where we’re going.”

“It’s a surprise. Hold on a little while longer.”

The ride is calm as Hiver takes care not to go too fast or crash into anything. Amanda takes this rare moment where she is on the backseat to appreciate the view of the people around living their lives, the many now-lively buildings that were rebuilt after the Red War, and the street lights passing them by. After a while, she just closes her eyes and buries her face on Hiver’s back, waiting for them to arrive at their destination.

They stop in front of a grassy plaza with artificial lakes, and Hiver pulls up to the opposite sidewalk.

“Amanda? We’re here.”

“Well, anytime ya want to tell me where “here” is and what we’re doing, feel free.” She says, both of them getting off of the Sparrow, leaving it to transmat away. Hiver motions for her to follow. They enter a building with a large, marble-stone lobby. Warm lights bring life to the place, the walls’ corners are lined with lively plants inside long wooden planters.

To the right are a bunch of couches and tables where people are going about their business, talking to each other, reading, eating a meal or working on their holo-tablets. To the left, a balcony with two frames, elegant black shells with white details and trimming. Behind them, intricate, gold and silver metal letters spelling “Luminosity Heights” in a cursive, fancy font.

“Greetings, Ms. Hiver! Welcome back!” One of them says from behind the reception desk.

“Hello, Siegfried, Roy! Authorize a guest, please.”

They quickly update some data on their workstations, and give both of them clearance. Hiver goes up to one of many turnstile doors containing an energy barrier and removes her gauntlets to place her hand on some sort of biometric panel. Once she is confirmed, she motions towards it in a “ladies first” manner and lets Amanda through.

Amanda starts to understand where they are. After the door they reach the vacant elevators and Hiver types the floor number. As they ascend, Amanda leans back against the opposite wall and takes in all of the luxurious, yet somewhat rustic scenery they just went through. The Warlock is straining to contain her excitement, but she just eyes her crush and smiles at her.

The elevator stops, its doors opening. They are now in a smaller room, with an intricate white vase containing a beautiful bouquet of white and blue flowers, sitting atop a black table with silver details. 

Hiver goes left and places her hand at another biometric scanner. “Ms. Holliday?” Hiver says, anxious for her reaction.

“It’s… Amanda, Hiver. What is it? What is this place anyway?” She says, a bit impatient from her tiredness.

The door to the apartment opens, letting the moonlight in from the windows at the end of the living room. The white lights turn on soon after the door is open.

“Welcome home.”

Amanda steps in, and takes off her boots. She is in awe of the cleanliness and the decoration Hiver picked for her place. It felt cozy, and peaceful. A nice place to come back to.

“Ahaha! This’s a fine place. It’s -- it’s awesome!”

“Trinity, play Pale Rider, please.” The Ghost obeys, counting “one, two” and starting to play old guitar chords. “Amanda, you can make yourself at home. I’ll take a bath, and then grab you a towel so you can shower.” Hiver says, before entering her bedroom and closing the door.

“Got it, girl.” Amanda answers, giving her a thumbs-up. She rests her body on the couch, spreading her tired legs and enjoying the western-like music Trinity is playing.

She is sitting on a brown, suede-ish couch with three seats with a tree-like floor lamp beside it. In the middle of this room is another black end table in the same style of the one in the lobby. Below the tabletop, many books about various subjects -- fictional stories, archives, journals -- are arranged, some of them untouched, others in a deplorable state; she imagines Hiver didn’t dare damage them further.

The walls are a clean white, adorned with some pictures neatly lined together; mostly simple paintings of plants, and some delicately made drawings of exotic revolvers framed behind anti reflective glass, including the currently lost Hawkmoon and First Curse.

As the song ends, Trinity goes to rest in a little red pillow Hiver got her.

On the wooden television stand, was a wide TV and what seemed to be a game console. Above it, she put up a shelf that displays miscellaneous sculptures of Guardians and enemy units -- particularly the Vex. Amanda remembers Hiver saying she was very afraid of Vex, even though she likes their aesthetics. Levitating on display were coin-like artifacts said to honor the Iron Lords, and two porcelain vases with devil’s ivy creeping down their sides.

Looking at the window on the left side, she sees a small reading nook by the three windows. It was a raised wooden section full of and moss green and beige cushions, easily accessible drawers under it. The walls above have some macrame vases hanging from them. It was big enough to fit two people, or three if they were sitting. Thin, linen curtains separated it from the rest of the living room, and the windows -- as Amanda went to inspect -- gave them a good view of the Last Safe City.

The apartment was not too high, but not too low either. Walking back to the couch, she spotted a marble-top island with chairs, and behind it was the kitchen part of the place. Amanda considers asking Hiver to make dinner. The last time she ate was over four hours ago.

After a while of hearing a hair dryer sound, she sits back on the couch and Hiver announces her presence again. “Back I am!” She says, carrying a towel for the shipwright, who took a moment to appreciate her outfit.

The Guardian had changed out of her robes and was now wearing a thin, white blouse with a black peter pan collar that exposed her slender shoulders with a little bow knot neatly tied under it. On her lower half was a deep blue, ankle-length skirt that shaped well to her hips and waved elegantly as she walked. She had traded her Annealed Shaper boots for much more comfortable black tights.

“Hey, looking good! You warlocks sure know how to be fashionable.” Amanda commented playfully, taking the towel in her hands. Hiver chuckles nervously and blushes.

“I-it’s nothing special. See, my bedroom is at the end of the hallway. There’s a shower there, right next to the door. If you want to borrow some clothes from my closet, you can do it too. They should fit and... I can wash your coveralls as well.”

Amanda throws the towel over her shoulder. “Alright, thanks! Listen, don’t wanna be a prick, but… can I eat something after I’m done? ‘S been some hours since I last ate.”

“Of course! I was planning on making us dinner anyway. No need to rush and, if you need anything else, all you have to do is ask.” Hiver answers happily before disappearing into the kitchen to look for ingredients. Amanda rolls her eyes and smiled at to the Awoken’s housewife-like behavior and wanders to the bathroom.

Everything there was also clean, but made from a grey granite to contrast with the whiteness of the other rooms. The mirror was relatively large and plain, and on the corner of the bathroom was a bluish stained glass shower box with a tub if she so chose to use it.

Amanda stripped herself off her clothes and tools, leaving them on top of the toilet seat to collect later. Locating Hiver’s care products to use, she also spots a small sliding window with three very small vases on them, waiting to be occupied. One of them housed a small sapling; Amanda turned on the shower and smiled, reminding herself to ask Hiver to show what grows from it.

After a much-needed cleansing of her pale, greased skin (Made much more satisfactory by the ludicrous amount of skincare products Hiver has) and some massaging to help her soreness, the human stepped out of the shower and, while she dried off, she had to pick something to wear.

Not wanting to think too much about it, she picked out a random black set from Hiver’s underwear drawer and put it on quickly. Surprisingly, they don’t differ much in bra size. She considers it lucky.

Now, for clothes, she examined every piece carefully, time and again taking them for a closer look. The guardian appeared to prefer comfortable and clean-looking clothes, probably a byproduct of her wearing armored robes and trench coats all the time.

As the shipwright tries on a red sweater that falls off her shoulders, she feels a smell coming from the kitchen. ‘Tomato?’ she guesses, which caused her stomach to express its anger even more. She chose a pair of white cottony pants to go with the sweater and grabbed her things from the bathroom, bringing them to Hiver.

Getting to the island, she sees a plate with steaming hot… toast? Covered with layers of tomato, then melted cheese, and… some herb? Probably a spice… Amanda has never seen something like this.

“Hey Amanda.” Hiver says, not taking her eyes off the kitchen counter. “Help yourself. I’m almost done.”

“Wait, done with what?”

“Dinner.” The warlock responds, shrugging and smiling smugly at her confusion.

“Isn’t this dinner?”

“That’s an appetizer. Or… an entrée, as Ada would say.” She sprinkles grated parmesan cheese over the meal she’s making. Amanda sits down, setting her clothes aside and taking one of the toasts, biting into it and closing her eyes to analyze the taste better. It’s…

“Delicious...” She blurts out without thinking, eyes shining. The Awoken girl smiles in pride while putting the main course in the pre-heated oven, then walking over, juice jar in hand, to take a seat next to her crush. It’s been forever since she’s had a meal with someone.

She picks up a Bruschetta. She doesn’t know the name of it, just the recipe, but she was determined to find out. “We Warlocks don’t just search for Golden Age relics, you know?” She takes a bite out of it, enjoying its salty flavor. She could tell she had done it just right and was happy about it.

“So…” Amanda starts, in the middle of her second Bruschetta. “When did you get this place?” Hiver pours them both a cup of juice.

“This morning, after some days of dealing with bureaucracy and killing stuff to get Glimmer. I got it with most of the furniture, so the price got a little… saltier.” She looks at her kitchen, happy to have a place to call hers. “Still, beats living out of my ship or in Old Earth’s cold, dead debris.”

Amanda nods, mid-chewing a half of the bread, and then swallows. “I’m happy you got it, Hiver. It’s pretty cozy, and… very you, if that makes sense. It’s not bland, but it’s not super fancy-pantsy either. It has a nice feeling to it.” She continues eating the other half as she recalls the sense of style of other Warlocks she met.

Particularly Brother Vance.

“I did my best in making this place presentable to you… but this is not all I have to show, though.”

“My, my, aren’t we full o’ surprises today?”

They hear a ding coming from the counter, conveniently, as the bruschettas are almost over. Hiver’s kitchen counter, shaped like a chicken that she painted a little spades symbol on, has gone off indicating the meal is ready.

“Just be patient.” Hiver says while putting on oven mitts and pulling it out of the oven. Amanda notes that it looks like a… tomato sauce mess. Putting it on their plates, they get to eating.

“Boy, do you like tomato. Not that I’m complaining.” The freckled girl pushes the sauce away from her food, revealing pasta and fried steak.

“Villages around found a way to grow them… really fast. And they’re healthy. You say to-may-to, I say make sauce with it. And everyone’s happy.” Hiver replies with a smile, garnering a laugh from her human friend. They eat the rest of it in silence.

After the main course, Amanda is still curious to see what Hiver has to show her, hurrying her up in an almost coquettish way. Hiver goes to her storage and pulls out one of the Dragon Fruits she was given in the Old Texas frontier.

“Amanda… is this here familiar to you?” She says, bringing it back to Amanda. She gasps, her expression changing completely; Her face is one of shock, her eyes widening immediately. She presses her lips together and takes the pink, prickly fruit in her hands with utmost care, examining it thoroughly, as if it were some sort of jewel. Hiver could sense some change, but not identify if it was good or bad.

The Awoken silently motions to have it back, grabbing a knife from her utensil drawer and opening the fruit to expose its white flesh. She proceeds to cut and push cubes out of the flesh so that she may serve it and give them to Amanda, who is visibly trying to hold herself together, hands with fingers intertwined pressing against her forehead and her thumbs supporting her brow ridge.

“Amanda?” Hiver says, pushing a plate of pitaya towards her. She picks a cube of the fruit and, as soon as she slowly finishes eating it, tears start rolling down her face uncontrollably. She then downs another. And another, and another, each of them bringing a stronger wave of emotion than the last.

Hiver watches silently, holding back her impulse to hold the woman and never let go. She had made it. It was the fruit. And more than that, a part of Amanda’s childhood.

She finishes the fruit, pushing away the plate, and lowering her head to continue sobbing. Hiver starts rubbing her back in an attempt to give her some comfort.

“Do you want a hug?” She offers.

Amanda silently gets up and quickly holds her friend, crying as quietly as she can -- which isn’t much -- on her shoulder. Hiver hugs her back, rubbing the back of her head, and they stay like this for some full minutes, before Amanda regains some of her composure and manages to stumble towards the couch, wiping her tears away.

“How…” She hiccups.

“Eva’s book.”

She turns to look at Hiver. “And… and where did you…”

“Let me grab you some water, this is gonna take a while.”

Hiver then proceeds to wipe Amanda’s tears off and explain her expedition to Old Texas.

“I see…” Amanda says, starting to feel better. Hiver reaches over and softly wipes away her tear trails. “Thank you.”

“I figured it would make you happy.” Hiver says, smiling shyly.

“It did. More than ya know.” The blonde is finally back to smiling, and leans her head on Hiver’s shoulder, sending her into a flustered panic. She can’t let it show. “Sorry Hiver… it’s… it’s late. All that cryin’s made me pretty tired.”

“Want to sleep here?”

“Been too much of a pain already. I should go.”

Hiver sighs. “Amanda, it’s more than a pleasure to be around you. Don’t think you’re bothering me, especially because I was the one who brought you here and did everything I could to make you feel welcome. D’you like this place? Do you want to stay?”

Amanda is a bit taken aback by her friend’s seriousness. “Yeah… it’s good to have someone other than me at home, if I’m being honest.”

“Then please,” Hiver wraps an arm around Amanda’s shoulder, holding her close. “Stay.”

The shipwright revels in the warmth of her friend’s embrace, slowly letting go of the half-painful nostalgia the felt earlier, and smiling softly as she started to doze off. She feels relieved. Before wandering off, the human girl manages to mutter one last sentence, giving Hiver just as much happiness as she caresses her crush’s shoulder with her fingertips.

“‘Kay. I’m stayin’.”

She feels at home.