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frostironfudge · 2 years ago

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Silhouettes In the Spotlight - Bucky Barnes - Ten

Summary: Bucky Barnes has worked immensely hard to have a filmography expanding across genres and garnering accolades from critics, peers and fans. Y/N Y/L/N, with her debut novel (fan-fiction turned New York Times Bestseller) has two other best sellers under her belt. Next is her highly anticipated fourth book lined up for release. SHEILD Productions has acquired the film rights to her debut novel and they want Bucky Barnes to play the lead (aka himself) by any means necessary. This story is about angst, lust, heartbreak, and love. After all fairytales only exist in books and movies right?

Warnings: fluff, making out angst, swearing, towards reader: non consensual touching (not sexual in nature but still non consensual is non consensual), physical abuse, degrading language, non consensual photography. heavy chapter if these themes bother you please do not read the chapter, alexander pierce is a shit head or worse, brock rumlow too, i have demarcated the areas where the non consensual touching begins and ends.

Pairing: Actor!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.6k || Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Main Masterlist || Fic Masterlist || AO3

Chapter Nine|| Chapter Eleven

HEADLINES:

Alexander Pierce Visits Dolores In Rehab Centre.

Natasha Romanoff Hopeful To Find The Next Doll, Maria Hill Joins Search For Auditions to Re-Open.

Author Y/N Spotted First Time Amid Break-up Rumours With Steve Rogers, Fans Attack Her Social Media.

Steve Rogers Jets Off To Europe. Top Ten Places To Visit To Get Over Break-Up Blues.

British GQ Announces Cover Star Bucky Barnes, Shoot To Take Place This Month.

Hydrangeas Publishing and SHEILD Productions Still In A War Over Buy-out, Authors Suffer As Work Is Pushed Back But Deadlines Aren’t Eased.

On-lookers Say Loki and Ace Spotted Getting Closer. Enemies To Lovers Or Just A Fling?

Bucky wonders if he’s dreaming, he really does as his hands run over your head along your back as you burrow closer. Your breathing soothed, sleepily seeking more of his warmth as laughter rumbles at your adorable behaviour.

“What’s so funny?” You question, muffled by his shirt.

“Not funny, endearing.” He corrects, you raise your head, chin resting on his sternum looking up at him.

“You’re thinking.” You muse, narrowing your eyes.

“Observant.” He chuckles, crinkles by his eyes appearing.

“Tell me?” You try to sit up, his hold tightens, “James,” you giggle, his left palm cups your cheek, the cooler thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

“I’m thinking, is this what Rhys felt, when he saw his Doll in reality? When he finally felt her against his body? Did he ask himself over and over, is this a dream? Is this a dream?” He watches you absorbing his words, blue eyes searching your own.

You press a soft kiss to his palm, his eyelids flutter closed, you place a kiss to his wrist. Bucky’s breath hitches.

You kiss the inside of his forearm, the way you can manage with his right arm still caging you in, when you reach the crease of his elbow, you look up at him. His gaze trained upon you.

“Doll reminded Rhys, that this is their reality, every-time either one of them questioned if they are still in a dream the other showed them, with each touch, with each syllable of love, with each kiss. That this is their reality.” You watch as his eyes turn glassy.

“And how do we remind each other?” His voice a soft whisper, “In the chaos of this life I lead, of these flashes and spotlights that surround you and I?”

“Those bright flashes, that spotlight that shines upon you, the shuttering chaos that waits for your brand new, when you just hold my hand and then my fingers intertwine, we’re just two silhouettes in the spotlight, together we’ll remind, that those bright lights that illuminate, only make me see you more clearly.” You tell him.

“We’re two silhouettes in the spotlight, they don’t see you like I do, they don’t know how easily I’ve given my heart to you.” Bucky admits, you turn misty eyed. He chuckles, wiping the stray tear.

“Might be coming for your job, Feather.” He jokes you give him a watery grin.

Then hide away into his chest again. Bucky wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

Your thumb brushes over the material of his shirt. Contemplating sharing your other book idea since you feel no urge to write the one you’re currently supposed to publish.

That draft lay abandoned since weeks.

“Whats on your pretty mind?” Bucky coaxes you out of your reverie.

“Well I had another idea for a book…” You begin, he frowns as your body tenses.

“Feather, why are you nervous?” He questions.

“I’m scared about the idea and how it will be received.” You admit.

“Well tell me, I want to know.” He urges, “You know I love the stories you’ve shared. Biggest fan right here even though I was terribly late to the fandom.” He clicks his tongue and the lil scrunched up face he makes has you giggle.

“Well it’s about, this twenty six year old and a forty year old…” you watch him.

“Quite the age gap but nothing to bat an eye too much at you know?” Bucky shrugs, “Are they in love?”

“Well, he’s her father’s best friend… the dad and he met when—,”

Incessant ringing has you pause, Bucky looks towards the table where your phone is the number is unknown,

“Why does he not understand I don’t want to talk to him?” You grumble.

“You think it’s Steve?” Bucky reaches for the device.

“I know it’s him.” You huff, he answers the call still, putting it on speaker phone.

“Y/N.” Steve’s voice greets you, “Please talk to me.” His words are slurred, “Did you send me to voicemail again? Fuck.” Clanging of bottles and a shatter occurs.

Bucky worries and you look up at him, “Steve?”

There is a hiss, “Why won’t you talk to me? Am I that bad?”

“Steve are you alright? Where are you?” You question.

“Why don’t I dislike you? Why are you in every goddamn thought of mine? Was the fucking same when Bucky and I had our fall out. Is he with you?” There is a sniffle.

“Steve, please tell me where are you?” You plead, you don’t want him hurting himself.

“Steve,” Bucky’s own throat is tight with emotion.

“Bucky?” Steve whispers, “I’m a horrible friend aren't I? Parading around your details and having a thing for your girl.” Steve gives a humourless laugh.

“Steve are you at home?” Bucky questions, “Just tell us we’ll come get you.”

“You’d bring her? I want to apologise for being a shit, a shit head.” Steve drawls voice thickening.

“She call you that? First meeting grumbled it under her breath but I heard it.” Steve chuckles.

“She called me a knob head once.” Bucky adds, you glare at him.

“I don’t think this is the time to discuss—,”

“I see her in my dreams you know? Picked up her book, the one with the guy who lets her get away and then returns years later as her bodyguard?”

“Steve I think you’re muddling all the books.” You look at the phone in concern, Bucky prompts you to ask Steve again.

“Steve? Where would we be if I came in your dreams right this minute?” You wonder if the tactic will work. Bucky hands you your jacket while grabbing his own.

“We’d be in my penthouse, you’d like the view from here, city lights and limitless sky.” He chuckles, then sighs as if he just took another sip.

“I know where it is.” Bucky takes your hand as the two of you head to the stairwell to not lose the connection of the call.

“That sounds nice.” You say, “Steve you have to talk to me, I need to know that you’re okay.”

“Just palm hurts, sliced it on glass, s’nothing.” He dismisses your sound of concern.

“Can I ask you something?” He wonders, sounding childlike, hopeful.

You and Bucky settle into his other car. The one he uses to remain undetected.

“You can, go on.” You prompt, Bucky intertwines your hands over the console.

“Why didn’t you and your mom leave him? Why did the two of you suffer? I’m asking because it took a long time for me too. I stayed cause I thought I could protect Mum by taking the hits for her.” He sniffles, your heart breaks for him.

“You know what she did? She would purposefully call me in, so she could be saved. She threw me under the bus. Your mum isn’t like that, she shielded you.” His voice cracks, Bucky squeezes your hand.

“I-I don’t know Steve, I never had the resources before and when I got them I knew I needed more and mom needed me.” You admit, “I wish I could have left with her earlier.”

Bucky’s jaw tightens it pains him to hear your say this, you spilled everything over the course of time from your mutual confession.

“Do you miss him? I miss mine, the good parts when I was younger.” Steve admits, you hear liquid sloshing.

“Steve, you gotta stop drinking man.” Bucky tells him, worry lacing his voice.

“I can handle it, your the one who can’t handle lick, lick-kurrrr.” Steve laughs, Bucky shakes his head.

“Yeah I’m a total lightweight.” He admits.

“Yeah you are, punk.” Steve agrees.

“You’re the punk.” Bucky reiterates.

A moment of silence settles over them, you can hear the breathing on the end of the line. Bucky’s grip tightens on the wheel and your hand.

“I miss you, Buck.” Steve admits.

“I miss you, Stevie.” Bucky says, without hesitation.

You watch him, he swallows. You squeeze his hand.

Steve cuts the call just as the two of you enter the basement parking. Bucky guides you through the familiar path to the penthouse.

Bucky reaches behind the succulent handing near the window next to the door, the key hidden under the fake plant.

Bucky takes a deep inhale as you both enter the apartment. It’s dimly lit, the television casting a glow across the living room, the glass crunches underneath your shoe. Steve’s head snaps up.

“Y/N?” He blinks several times, Bucky comes to stand behind you and Steve’s gaze shifts to him.

“Bucky?” Steve places weight on his right palm, then winces.

“Shit.” Steve looks at the cut as it drips across his forearm.

“First Aid’s in the kitchen if he hasn’t moved it, get him to sit up on the couch?” Bucky requests and you both part.

“Steve, you need to sit on the couch.” You move closer he only looks up at you.

“Oh you’re here, m'eudail.” Steve reaches for your hand with his uninjured one.

“Steve I need you to sit up on the couch.” You tug on his hand.

“M’eudail listen, I need to tell you I’m sorry.” He kneels then stands swaying you grab his arms to help steady him. Yet you sway with him.

“Steve sit, I’ll listen please just sit.” You urge, you look away to see if Bucky’s on his way back.

Steve grasps your chin, making you face him, “Steve,”

His lips brushing against yours, “Please.” he pleads. Your hands raise to push at his chest.

“Steve, I’m with James—,” his lips cut you off and then he’s flung back. Bucky’s fist connecting with his face. Steve doubles over, palm covering the injured area. He groans pressing himself into the couch.

“James.” You grab his hand, Bucky turns to you, walking you to the edge of the room.

His thumb runs over your lips, you look up at him.

“Don’t defend him.” He warns you.

“I’m not, are you okay?” You question.

“You better hope this doesn’t bruise.” Steve groans.

“Get over it.” Bucky calls out, eyes not leaving yours, you look at his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You look back up at him.

“You have nothing to apologise for, Feather.” He assures you.

“That guy on the other hand, his list just increases.” Bucky sighs, pressing his forehead to yours, you close your eyes.

Footsteps pad closer and then fade, you heard the sounds of Steve hurling. You wince. Bucky sighs.

“Stay here.” He requests, and moves to one of the rooms shutting the door.

You stand for a total of one minute before carrying the bottles into the kitchen, trying to find the broom to gather the glass before it hurts anyone else or Steve again.

Bucky walks out as you’re sweeping the glass into the outer carton of a Whiskey bottle.

“He’s okay, threw up given the consumption, the forearm gash isn’t too deep.” He explains, moving to the sliding closet and retrieves the dustpan.

“You spent a lot of time here?” You as as he takes the broom from you.

“Starting of our careers he and I, with our first big endorsement bought this place,”

“And then he sold his half to me after the accident but before things went downhill.” Steve walks in rubbing his bloodshot eyes, some how seeming soberer.

He shuffles into the kitchen, Bucky and you finish putting the glass in the trash to find Steve sipping the coffee mug while staring at the bandage on his palm.

“You both can leave.” He says, Bucky rolls his eyes, “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You still have all the stupid with you.” Bucky grumbles, you glance between them.

“Bucky—,” Steve turns and his eyes shift to you.

“I’m sorry about what I did. It was shitty and non consensual and me being drunk isn’t an excuse or a reason. I, I’m sorry.” He looks away and then back at you.

“Steve, that was really crappy.” You swallow down the lump in your throat, “Just, don’t do this stupid thing about drinking yourself to oblivion.”

He nods, taking a sip of the coffee.

“How, how are you holding up?” He asks, Bucky looks at Steve, observing the bags under his eyes and the withered look.

“I’m okay, given how things are I’m sure you heard.” You shrug.

“I’m sorry about the thing with your mom’s facility, I just, I wanted to be able to, fuck, whatever my intensions were it was shitty of me.” He sets the glass in the sink, scowling at the empty bottles.

“Don’t go down that path.” Bucky says knowingly.

A haunted look crosses Steve’s features, “I already am upon it.”

“No.” Bucky presses, he steps forward, Steve faces him.

“Just go Bucky. Take her with you, she’s better far away from me. You all are.” Steve procures another bottle.

“You’re going to keep drinking?” The words leave your lips.

“Sweetheart, just go home with your boyfriend.” Steve sneers.

You glare at Steve, he doesn’t look at your drinking straight from the bottle.

“Steve—,”

“I said leave, before I call the cops for trespassing.” He seethes cutting Bucky off.

Your phone and Bucky’s ring in tandem.

“Yelena?”

“Sam?”

“Did you use the back entrance?” Steve groans, the two of you answer the calls.

“Are you with Bucky At Steve’s?” Yelena’s voice is frantic.

“Yes?” You sound wary how did she know?

“Valentina has paps stationed outside, the security tipped her off about you.”

“I haven’t even been here!” You almost yell, Bucky’s expression is hardened as well.

Steve’s stomach flops again, “Fucking Valentina.”

“Sam’s attempting to get rid of them.” Bucky informs, “He’s told us to lay low.”

“Where here?” You ask.

“Where else sweetheart?” Steve scoffs.

“You know what you did was hurtful but this, bullshit facade of yours hurts more.” You sneer, Steve’s mouth twists into a grimace he stomps over to his room shutting the door.

Bucky sighs.

“I’ll call you back, there is something that needs taking care of,” Yelena cuts the line before you can say anything further.

When the two of you head to the living room, muffled shouting resounds from his bedroom.

“Valentina I swear if you don’t remove those fucking paps I will terminate your contract.” Steve sounds extremely calm but his voice keeps growing in octaves.

“Oh please you know I have shit on you.” She warns, “I know the shit Alexander has on you.”

“Are you threatening me? You know I’m your biggest client I drop you, you will go down as a nobody.” He warns.

“You’re too much of a chicken. Please what are you going to do?” Valentina scoffs.

“You’re fired.” He states, cutting the call, dialling his legal team.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Rogers?” Matt Murdock chuckles.

“Matt, i’ve fired Valentina, I need a new person to fill her place and I want everything iron clad, she has a slippery tongue.” He warns.

“Understood, I’ll have everything done by the end of the day. You take care alright?” Matt requests, Steve closes his eyes.

“I will.” He affirms, closing his eyes he opens the notification tab, already tweets, messages and emails pouring in about the leaked video that cuts Bucky out and only has you move through the building lobby.

Outside Bucky winces at the articles pouring in painting you as the one who cannot let go. The fan’s opinions dwindling. Then Sam shares a link. It takes him to Steve’s page.

Bucky’s eyes widen, he taps your arm handing you the device. You raise your head from your hands.

“ @.Steve_Rogers: it has come to light that security footage from my building has leaked and been fabricated to today’s date. I apologise for the privacy invasion this has caused Y/N Y/L/N, she has endured enough on my account with fabricated tales and speculative articles into the nature of our relationship. We are co-workers nothing beyond that, she has written a brilliant book, that has achieved great accolades, and now I and my co-stars and the crew of the movie have the chance to bring her vision to life. I apologise to the fans as well, I know how all of this looks and I know most of my relationships are out in the open before I or my partner have the opportunity to decide, which is also why I have cut ties with Valentina de Fontaine. Please understand that this is a time you should be respecting Y/N Y/L/N not parading her private moments of offering to help me bring Beckham to life and twist them into a cruel jab at a relationship. Yes the pictures leaked, yes we shared a friendship. I did stupid things to fuck it up instead of being authentic. She tolerated me way beyond what she should have. Nothing more to it. Now, if any of you know a great PR rep or manager please let me know, preferably someone who doesn’t give a shit about keeping me in the headlines and gets me to do authentic work I believe in, thank you.

All of the love, S.R. ❤️”

You re-read, he disregarded everything, admitted it was false, you look up at him as he steps into the living room.

“Well you did say to find the real me.” He shrugs, Bucky shakes his head chuckling.

“You still aren’t forgiven.” You tell him.

“I know, I’ll earn it.” Steve smiles confident, “Want food while the paps clear?”

“I could do for a pizza.” Bucky pipes up, he’s satisfied seeing the bruise on Steve’s face.

“You know? Why not.” you agree.

You stare at the email, three days later. Alexander finally booked the venue for the meeting. You log it into your calendar. Yelena places a bag of take out in front of you. She had been hiding something acting shifty. You had hoped to catch her off guard but one thing about Yelena, she is never letting her guard down.

“Eat, Y/N.” She gestures with her hand.

“yeah I, I had a question.” You begin, she looks up at you, nose scrunched.

“What is it?”

“Why are you being so fidgety?” You narrows your eyes as her jaw drops and she immediately launches into being defensive.

“I am not!” She scoffs, you press your lips into a thin line.

“I don’t buy it, what is on your mind.” You question opening the bag that contains Indian food, the aroma soothing your senses.

“Then why are you so…,” You pause as she stares behind you. You turn, Steve waves from the doorway.

His attention is drawn by another worker at BW.

“Is this why you’ve been shifty?” You turn back.

“Yes.” She exhales.

“You took him on thats okay, Yelena I know you’re going to treat him better than Valentina did, you don’t have to worry about my reaction. Him being here won’t have you divert your attention from my work.” You smile when she nods.

“I didn’t know how to tell you, its just, there was so much going on at your end and well…” She just trails off, slumping back in her chair.

“I’m not handling him directly we’ve taken him on as a client.” She explains you nod while eating.

“So Alexander has sent out the invites for the dinner.” You turn the laptop around for her to read.

“The dates the same as Bucky flying out. Have you told him?” She looks at you with furrowed brows.

You nod, “James is trying to alter the flight till after the dinner meeting thing is done, Sam’s on it as well. Right now it’s coinciding with him boarding the plane.”

You recalled the tension that rolled off of Bucky’s body the minute you mentioned this meeting. He hadn’t told you much about his own interactions with Alexander but you knew there was a-lot more to it. You just hoped to where your mind wandered wasn’t true. It was easy to think of horrible things.

You stared at the email again, it seemed daunting the only thing getting you by was that other authors would be there too.

Sam’s phone clatters on the glass he glares at it. Bucky groans throwing his own phone at the couch, it bounces and lands on the carpet with a thud.

They don’t need to affirm what they already know. The tickets and dates aren’t changing.

“I have a bad feeling.” Bucky says, the entire meeting thing has left a deep gnawing and clawing feeling in his chest. He doesn’t want Alexander to have something to hold over your head.

Given how Alexander behaved when Bucky broke his PR relationship contract. He had a sinking feeling that you were going to be used against him. When it didn’t happen he stupidly allowed himself to feel relief and then the email came in, the meeting was on the same day but after he was being flown out.

“What is the next step? Slip a recording bug in her bag?” Sam questions, “Hire a bodyguard?”

Bucky covers his face with his palms, “Isn’t Steve an old Hydrangeas author? Also Loki they reached out to Loki.”

Bucky bolts towards his phone dialling Loki’s number.

“Hey mate.” Loki greets, “How are you?”

“Loki, hey,” Bucky wonders if this would work.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen with Y/N?” He sits up, “Are you okay?”

“No, she’s okay, it’s, did you ever go through the deal with Hydrangeas? You know they reached out for you to come on as an author right?” His friend hums at the question.

“They did but then the whole buy out thing happened so I never got on board, not that I would have, why?” Loki frowns, Bucky wasn’t seeming as himself.

Bucky sighs, then begins to explain, Loki grows worried.

“Wait did you say British GQ?” He confirms, “The just announced Steve as a special coverage too.”

“What?” Bucky looks to Sam, “GQ Steve.”

“On it.”

“Look, I’m in New York send me the address and I’ll keep a watch okay? He doesn’t have shit on me that the world doesn’t already know.” Loki assures.

“Thanks mate I’ll send the address to you. I’m sorry to drag you into this mess.”

“Mate, Y/N is as much of a friend to me as I am to her, even without you two being together I would take care of her no questions asked.” Loki assures yet again.

“Thank you.” Bucky’s voice is thick with emotion, he knows how hard it has been for you to form friendships as these, the way you cried to him with tears of joy when you realised how everyone was there for you came out in support of you.

“You don’t know how much this means to her and me.” He adds.

“Bucky, she means a lot to us as well. Now go, I’ll have everything sorted here.” Loki smiles as they bid each other good-bye.

Bucky cuts the call Sam looks up at him, “Steve and you are on the same flight.”

He presses his lips into a thin line.

Something doesn’t feel right.

There is a private entrance to the airport that high profile individuals utilise to avoid being spotted as well as priority boarding after persons with different abilities.

Bucky turns to you as Hayden places the car into park moving out to unload his bags. Giving the two of you another few moments to cherish.

“You have the pepper spray?” He questions again.

“I do,” you show him and tuck it into your purse again.

He cups your cheek, the feeling in his stomach knots further.

“James.” You look into his eyes, “I will be alright.”

“I know I just; I’m going to miss you.” He swallows down, eyes searching through yours, you give him a smile.

He strokes your cheek, “I’ve been meaning to say this earlier I regret not saying it earlier but I was worried that it might be too soon, but then again maybe I’ve been feeling this way for far longer.”

Your lips part, he gives you a soft smile.

“I love you, Feather.” He declares, the four words wrap around your heart.

“Oh, James,” You inch closer to him, your lips brushing over his, “I love you, James.”

Your confession a whisper against his lips that brands itself onto his being.

He pulls your face closer, his lips on yours everything else in the world fades away.

His hands move to your hips pulling you across his lap, the grin blooming across his face between the kisses the two of you share.

“I’m the happiest man in the world today, Feather.” He admits, you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, his palm running over your head.

“I wish you didn’t have to go.” You murmur, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“I wish I didn’t either.” He admits, he kisses your shoulder, your scent taking over him.

The two of you remain embraced till Sam taps on the tinted window, “We have to move, I’m sorry to cut this short. Steve’s here too.”

You shift away, but not before Bucky gives you another searing kiss. Even as he opens the door to leave Bucky bends back inside, he grabs your hand bringing it close to his lips and placing a kiss to the tattoo he adores.

“Take care of yourself for me, I’ll be back in three days okay? I love you.” He cups your cheek again.

“I love you too. Come back soon, take care of yourself for me.” You place a kiss to his palm, he smiles.

Hayden enters the car again, you watch as Bucky, Sam, Steve and his new manager make their way into the airport.

“Shall we head out Ma’am? The Hotel your event is at is about an hour away.” Hayden meets your misty eyed gaze through the rearview mirror.

“Hayden,”

“Ma’am, he’ll be back before you know it.” He assures, you nod, taking the tissue he offers.

“Thank you.”

Bucky sighs as you inform him of the sudden venue change, you made it in time, given as the hotel was closer to the previous venue.

It’s fifteen minutes till he has to board the plane.

The knots in his stomach only tighten he’s in half a mind to give up the cover page. Loki’s been updated about the venue change but the message isn’t read nor delivered and his phone is unavailable. He traces the path to the exit with his gaze.

He should leave, his limbs push to have him rise from his chair.

“I thought you’d bring her along.” Steve muses while sitting down next to him.

“I wanted to but she has this meeting with every other Hydrangeas author and Alexander.” Bucky watches the blonde man’s brows furrow.

Bucky’s heart sinks at Steve’s next words,

“Bucky, that meeting was cancelled this afternoon.” Steve says while pulling up the email on his phone.

The words blur, “Steve she’s still invited, she’s on her way to meet him.”

“Boarding call for Delta Airlines JFK to LHR.”

Steve’s features set into a harsh glare, Bucky begins moving to the exit, “I’m not getting on that plane.”

“No you are not.” Steve agrees following him.

NON CONSENSUAL SCENE BEGINS

There isn’t any welcome sign or guidance line to where the meeting is as you enter the hotel lobby. You had told Hayden he could take the night off since getting back home from here was easier.

You message Bucky that you’ve reached and tuck in your phone when the manager stands in front of you.

“Ms. Y/L/N, I presume?” He speaks in a gentle manner.

“Yes, um, am I late?” You question worriedly.

“On the contrary Mr. Pierce is delayed he has asked me to take you to the presidential suite.” He gestures towards the lift.

“I, won’t the others be there for the meeting?” You ask while following.

“You’re the first one here. The suite is equipped with a private conference room.” He explains and you step behind him of the elevator.

“Oh, okay.” You tap your foot to the elevator music.

The doors open directly into the presidential suite, you follow behind to the meeting room, the chairs are lined up around an oval white marble table. Bottles of water kept along with notepads and pens.

The manager pulls out a chair for you, you thank him as you sit.

“Would you care for refreshments? Any drinks?” He questions, you shake your head.

“Water is fine, you reach for the bottle, taking a few large gulps, his walkie beeps, he excuses himself from the suite.

You wait for a few more minutes sighing as you head towards the window, taking a few more gulps of the water and reaching for a second bottle. The sudden thirst you’re attributing to nerves, you place the bottle down.

“Ah, I see you made it.” Alexander grins like a cheshire cat.

You turn, “Oh, hello Sir— Alexander.” he smiles as you greet him.

“Ah come along I wanted to hold a mixer out on the foyer, no idea why Stuart brought you in here.” Alexander beckons you towards him with the flex of his fingers. You push away from the window, the floor tilts, you stumble propping yourself up with the back of the chair.

“Are you alright sweetheart?”

You look up at him, he’s smiling, you blink, his features morph into worry. Nodding you take the support of the wall blinking several times to clear your vision. When you reach the doorway you fall forward again, the floor shakes.

You groan as you’re picked up, large arms wrap around your waist. You shuffle in the tight grasp.

“Brock put her on the sofa and get rid of the jacket.” Alexander orders, taking off his own suit jacket and cufflinks.

Brock places you on the large sectional, when his hands move to your jacket you grab his hands, “Please no.” You plead, alarms ringing in your head and the vibrations of the floor don’t stop.

“Her, phone’s going off, it’s Barnes.” Brock says, looking up at his uncle.

“Throw it to the side.” He huffs, a clatter resounds as the vibrating floor stops, you stare up at Brock, trying to push his hands away. Brock pins your hands above your head.

“James won’t let you—,”

“Shh, sweetheart, you and I are going to take some very interesting photos. James is on his way to be far, far away from you.” Alexander’s palm cups your cheek.

You pull your head away, he grabs your jaw harshly, you cry out. Distantly fabric rips and Alexander’s weight is above you as he nastily grins at you.

“Oh look at you, crying. Oh sweetheart, you should have thought of this before you tried to get in the way of my entire plan. My best actors and you? Have you seen the mirror?” He laughs wickedly, there is a bright flash, you cry out at the sting on your cheek that follows.

“Dip your head down.” Brock tells him, Alexander’s breath fans across your neck, you struggle against him.

“Fucking bitch, I’m not even touching you. Who would want to? Certainly not my actors, they are toying with you. Shiny little toy, they ran after Dolores the same way.”

Your eyes close at his words, you can’t feel your limbs anymore, disorientation taking over.

He grabs your hand, making your fingers move close to his mouth you catch a flash of your tattoo before Alexander takes them in his mouth, you will yourself to kick or pull your hand back, his teeth clamp around your index finger you cry out at the pain.

“Fucking bitch. I will make sure no one hires you, or publishes you. I will even ruin your little Barnes’ career. At least him I used well, didn’t I Brock?” Alexander chuckles.

Brock’s laugh echoes around your mind.

“Don’t, don’t hurt James.” you cry as his fingers twist your wrist, the dizzying feeling as you’re turned around.

“Maybe I should tell you what I have on Steve then, you’re going to forget all of this, and I’ll remind you.” he chuckles darkly, you see the flash against the upholstery.

“Little toy of SHEILD, thats what we should call you, fat fucking toy, your followers, your fans, all increased because of my company. I bought Hydrangeas already, I leaked your chapters, you will be SHEILD to buy your book rights, I’ll earn a profit you get nothing. Just the way I milked your precious James’ arm loss.”

You can hear him but your tears seem louder as he tells you the vile things he did to the two of them, the drugs, the women, the compromising pictures with everything.

You cry out as he pulls you up then pushes you down to the floor. You struggle to remain on your knees as he has you face him.

“Was supposed to be Steve losing his arm, fucker was becoming a liability, then Barnes stepped in with his improvisation. Maybe I should hurt him again. Or should I hurt Steve?” Alexander’s ring bruises your cheek. “Answer me.”

“Please don’t hurt them! Please don’t hurt them! I’ll do anything.” You plead.

“You open your mouth and you see what I do to you.” Alexander warns, throwing you back, you curl up on your side, black spots cloud your vision.

“Anyways once your little boy toys know what occurred they won’t touch you. Who will believe that you didn’t sleep with me, you were the one that wanted to rise above. No one. Who will believe that I, Alexander Pierce drugged you? No one. Who will believe a little author who lied to everyone about her father not being an abusive man but displayed every bit of it in her book? No one will believe you. When I’ve produced movies and best selling sagas, your story is in my hand as well. You’re a liar, a fraud, no one will believe a silly pathetic girl that makes up stories for a living.” Alexander pats your wet cheek.

Brock takes a final picture the white flash bleeds into blackened darkness.

NON CONSENSUAL SCENE ENDS

The ding of the lift and silence of six minutes echoes around the rental car. Sam drives as swiftly as possible. Steve’s gaze is trained on his phone that was video recording Bucky’s device. Bucky was shaking, anger rolling off of him in waves.

“Yelena?” Steve’s new manager, Angel’s, voice cuts through the silence, “We need Barber and Murdock. It’s Y/N, something happened, just get them at BW private meeting no paps nothing. Off books. You need to go get her, she’s shaken up. Medical team as well.”

Your sobs break free, Bucky’s heart bleeds, “Feather.” he says.

“James?” your voice breaks off more.

“Feather I’m coming to get you okay? I, I need you to talk to me, are you hurt?” Bucky will kill them, he’s going to kill Alexander and Brock.

“Do-don’t I’m, I’m not, I’m not—,”

“Feather, please, please, don’t believe a word he says, I believe you.” He assures, you cry harder over the call, there is shuffling across the line.

“You didn’t go?” you whimper, bringing the watch closer to your face.

“I’ll explain when I get there okay?” he sounds broken, hearing everything that was done to him and Steve.

“Don’t come here. I’ll, I’ll meet you at home, please.”

“Baby—,”

“I don’t want to be here.” You plead, “please.”

“I’ll call Hayden for you.” he says.

“I gave him the night off.” You inform, “I, I thought he would—, there should have been others…”

“Yelena is on it.” Angel assures, “She’ll reach in a few minutes.”

“Did you hear everything? It the call’s on the watch…” You wonder when did the call dial or get answered during the struggle. He sighs, he doesn’t know how to answer this question.

“Who-Who else heard?” You sniffle, your shirt was in tatters, the buttons half popped off.

“Feather…” Bucky winces, “Steve, Angel and Sam.”

“We’ll make him pay, Y/N.” Steve’s voice is gruff a little scratchy, the whole ordeal lasted thirty minutes, how did the call get answered they don’t understand but Steve began recording the device with his own phone.

“We can’t, he’ll ruin your careers. He threatened to hurt, hurt you, he said more but I, I was drowning?” you try to make them understand.

“Nothing is more important than you.” Bucky says, his vibranium arm whirs as his fist is tightly clenched.

“Alpine and Mum, the nurse…” You being to panic again,

“I’ll have someone relieve the other nurse and say you’re caught up okay?” Steve assures you, “Angel, call the nursing facility please, an email from them has the contact information.

“I’m not going to stop, Feather. We’re going to make him pay.” Bucky assures, you whimper.

“You, you tried to warn me, I should have said no.” You begin to cry again.

“This is not your fault, you were misled. This was planned by them, you are not at fault.” Bucky assures you, he swallows thickly.

You take a deep inhale, the elevator dings, “Someone’s come back,” you hide away the watch behind your back, cowering against the sectional. Pulling your jacket to cover your form.

Yelena comes finds you on the floor she drops her bags as you arms wrap around her, you begin to cry, “I’ll have her back at BW.” Yelena spots the ongoing call on the watch.

“Have change of clothes for you, your hoodie.” She explains, “I thought maybe it was a spill…”

You shake your head, she helps you wear the hoodie. Your limbs wobble, “He had something in the water in the conference room.”

Steve and Bucky share a glance, they were familiar with the laced drug.

“Yelena, get the bottles.” Steve says over the speaker phone.

You follow her not wanting to be alone, she grabs the half empty bottle and the empty bottle and a third sealed one.

She takes your hand, leading you to the basement parking. You numbly follow her, getting into her car.

Bucky paces the entirety of the BW office, his head snapping up to the entrance every time he hears footsteps. Steve watches him while he replays the audio for Matt and Andy.

Matt’s lips press into a thin line as the call progresses for a second time. Your cries for no and help have your voice hoarse.

Andy scribbles the time stamps across a piece of paper. Noting down everything that was occurring via the audio. Every word where you pleaded for a no, or asked them to stop marked. His breathing trying to remain in control. The anger towards men like Alexander only growing.

The audio ends, Steve looks towards both of them.

“We need to tread with this very carefully. It is non consensual, she repeats over and over, he also admits to incriminating things he has done to you and Mr. Barnes.” Matt lists, “Andy you need to work rationally not with anger.”

“I know what I’m doing Matt.” Andy huffs, “We can build a case. However this needs to be off books and off records. The main thing is she’s shaken, if she says no, we cannot do anything.”

“What do you mean? We have to do something!” Steve yells.

“Mr. Rogers, please understand, till the victim does not file the complaint, there is nothing we can do.” Matt sighs.

“Andy come on.” Steve looks at the man helplessly.

“I can’t do anything Steve, we can talk to her, assure her that this will be dealt with without harm to either you or Mr. Barnes but if she says no, that it a full sentence.” Andy looks at Steve who only gets more irritable.

“You need to cool off before she comes in.” Andy advises his brother, “She needs rational and calmness right now.”

Steve only grumbles under his breath.

His head snaps up as Bucky and you meet halfway, he lifts you up as you wrap around him, your sobs greet everyone. As you hold on for dear life to Bucky.

Bucky runs his hand over your head, leading you to Yelena’s office, the three seater couch allowing you to lay on Bucky as he holds you. Apologies fall from both of your lips, he kisses your tears away while shedding his own.

“I managed to get a hold of Loki.” Sam walks into the conference room, “He ordered a drink in the hotel lobby. Woke up right now.”

“He was drugged as well?” Steve looks towards Andy.

Andy’s lips press into a thin line he notes this down as well, “We need him to come in, I’ve got Dr Banner and Dr Cho in to find DNA evidence and take blood samples. Again only if Y/N agrees.”

Steve pushes the nearest chair and it topples over, he rests his palms against the wall trying to curb his anger.

“He’ll hurt the two of you.” You say for the umpteenth time sitting in the conference room to discuss how to go about this whole situation.

“Feather, we have him threatening you over us. He cannot do shit.” Bucky cups your cheeks, you weren’t leaving his side to afraid to be alone. The scent of his cologne calming you.

“It will all come to light.” You say, “What about that?”

“It anyways would if we did a misstep with Alexander.” Steve says from his place to your left.

“Exactly, this way they know Alexander is the bad guy.” Bucky’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone. You look down at your hands, his teeth marks left a gash over your tattoo over the exact place Bucky left his parting kiss.

Bucky’s jaw tightens as he sees the flesh marred.

“If you still do not want to, Matt and Andy will leave.” Bucky tells you and your gaze lifts to the two lawyers, Steve explained Andy and he are twins but Andy left the family and changed his last name. The information seemed like whiplash. He had kind eyes, as Steve did in some moments you had with him.

“Y/N, look the trauma you underwent tonight was horrible and I cannot provide words that may be able to comfort you,” Andy’s voice is sincere, “What I can offer is a chance to make sure Alexander and Brock never get the chance to hurt you or anyone else again.”

“We have a contact in the FBI as well, her team was investigating SHEILD for the longest time, money laundering amongst other things, we can build a case.” Matt assures, he tilts his head the glasses gleam against the light.

“He won’t be able to hurt James and Steve or anyone right?” You want to affirm.

“Yes.” Matt says, “even what he mentioned about Bucky’s accident that was scheduled for Steve.”

“We will make sure of it.” Andy adds, his gaze flickers to his brother who harbours worry towards you, Bucky’s expression holds the same worry.

“What about Bucky’s accident?” You look amongst everyone, your brows furrowed, “I, I don’t remember…”

“It’s probably the drug altering your memory.” Matt deduces.

“Don’t strain yourself trying to recall, we can take your statement afterwards as well.” Andy says, he taps his pen on the paper.

“We all are going to believe and support you, no matter the choice you make.” Bucky grasps your hand gently, Steve lightly touches your forearm.

“Look around the room,” he urges, and you do, “Bucky, Yelena, Angel, Loki, Matt, Andy, Sam and I, we are all here for you.” They all offer encouraging looks, you feel tears brim again.

“Okay, okay, I’ll file the case.” You look at the two lawyers, Matt smiles.

“Thank you.” He says.

“Hey, Darcy, I have some news.” Andy stands gazing out the window continuing his call.

“Y/N, this is Dr. Cho, she will be assessing you and documenting the injuries.” Matt announces the minute Dr. Cho steps in, “her perfume is recognisable.” he explains with a light chuckle.

“Y/N, I’m Helen Cho, I’ve step up the examining area in the other office, you can have someone accompany you.” She gives you a warm smile.

Your gaze moves towards Yelena, she nods, “Of course I will.”

You swallow standing up, looking down at Bucky.

“I love you.” he tells you kissing the back of your hand.

“I love you.” you cup his cheek brushing your thumb over his jaw.

You look back at Steve, “M’eudail, it means, my darling.” he tells you, you nod.

“Steve.” Andy warns.

“Thank you for being here, you’re a good friend.” You say to him, Steve find a weight lifted from his shoulders.

Bucky’s eyes meet his, he nods affirming and agreeing to what you said.

You meet Loki’s gaze with an apology on your tongue.

“Hey I’d get knocked out as many times for you.” The green eyed man gives you a cheeky smile.

You give him a smile and walk out with Yelena following Dr. Cho.

HEADLINES:

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes Get Into Public Altercation At JFK, Escorted Out By Security.

Dolores Issues Apology Statement As She Gears Up To Return From Rehab.

Loki Laufeyson Naps While Waiting For Script Read.

GQ Releases Statement Redacting Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers From Next Month Issue, Director Brock Rumlow Chosen Instead.

Alexander Pierce Issues Statement Hydrangeas Now A Part Of SHEILD. New Name — HYDRA.

A.N.: i know this chapter a heavy scene, if anyone needs to talk my DMs are open.

Taglist is Open comment or DM to be added!

Taglist: @stevesmewmew @elle14-blog1 @crazyunsexycool @sebsgirl71479 @pandaxnienke @slutforsexyseabass @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @pandaxnienke @vampire7595

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alwaysxlarrie · 3 years ago

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50 fic recommendations for u :)

i was inspired by @allwaswell16 who does monthly fic recommendations (and much, much more)! i do not have the executive function abilities to do that - i admire her for being able to do so, and just in general, really, but i am in the middle of making a fav fics and fav ao3 writers masterpost, and i’ve *been* in the middle of that since december lol. so, i figured, for now i’d just do a smaller post of fics (this was originally intended to be a *much* shorter post) i’ve been reading these past few weeks that i’ve been loving & fics that i’ve been rereading as well!

are you taking clients? by @jaerie (sex worker harry/rich louis, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, mentions of childbirth, mentions of cults, i’ve been manifesting a part 2 to this since i first read it, light angst, ambigious ending, implied future sugar baby harry)

a million roses (bathed in rock n’ roll) by deLILah (daddy kink, mentions of alcohol/drugs, spanking, music producer louis/singer harry, mentions of past gryles fwb, mentions of closeting, mentions of past haroline, hurt/comfort, harry is louis’ baby, dom/sub undertones, getting together)

a life that we share (i owe it all to you) by @all-these-larrythings (kid fic, single dad louis/single dad harry, it says no angst but then the next tag is bullying so i’d argue that there’s a bit of angst, the fluff and fond in this is *chefs kiss*, harry is louis’ baby, hurt/comfort)

all your mates are here by @londonderrytea (non abo werewolves, lots of top tier humor, some angst, slow burn, subtle courting/flirting, light angst)

all i want is to fall with you by @2tiedships2 (omega louis/alpha harry, courting, light omega discrimination, wary louis, the writing is so funny and witty i love it)

adore you by @isthatyoularry (older louis/younger harry, hate to love, louis is infatuated with harry, harry is louis’ baby, courtship, toxic family relationships, character development, louis just wants harry to be happy and to marry him, miscommunication, minor violent scene, implied smut)

ain’t that a kick in the head! by @karasunonolibero and keysmashlesbian (strangers to minor enemies to friends to lovers, football au, american harry/british louis, famous louis/non famous harry, mentioned/implied closeting, kind of a slow burn, getting together, top tier humor, so many memes we love to see it)

babydoll blues by @thedevilinmybrain (music executive louis/singer harry, sugar baby au, daddy kink, dom/sub undertones, a love triangle of sorts, bdsm elements, angst, i love this sm)

boys fall like dominoes by orphan_account (omega harry/alpha louis, strangers to fwbs, possessive louis, dom/sub undertones, i absolutely recommend part two of boys fall like dominoes)

caught in your gravity by @lululawrence (british louis/american harry, footballer louis/football coach harry (lol), secret relationships, closeting, coming out, homophobia in the football industry, a few momentarily hostile situations, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, very light angst)

counterculture by @sadaveniren (omega harry/alpha louis, semi famous louis/non famous harry, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, platonic come marking, strangers to lovers, getting together, possessive louis, public sex)

convalescent boy (with a heart of gold) by @londonfoginacup (this fic is so soft and cute i cry, college/university au, mentions of past louis/omc, actor louis, marcel au, strangers to friends to lovers, getting together, slow burnish)

gorgeous (it makes me so mad) by @artxghoul (barista harry/tattoo artist louis, sexual tension, dom/sub undertones daddy kink, healthy bdsm communication, bathroom sex, harry is louis’ baby, strangers to lovers, louis is a seductive minx and harry is a hippie trying his best)

gathered on wings by @twopoppies (artist louis/artist harry, sculptor louis/painter harry, feminization, harry is louis’ baby, top tier dirty talk/smut, desk sex, thigh fucking, angst, sugar baby harry, daddy kink, semi public sex, this is one of my fav fics omg, younger harry/older louis, dom/sub undertones, acquaintances to fwb to lovers, miscommunication turned to healthy communication, getting together)

hard for me to know i might see you around by @coffeelouis (strangers to lovers, tinder au, louis has no shame and i love it, embarrassed harry, somewhat of an ambiguous ending and i usually don’t love those but i do love this fic)

in all its imperfections by @briannamarguerite (coworkers to lovers, healthy communication, virgin harry, anxious harry, punk louis, harry is louis’ baby, getting together, supportive louis, top tier dirty talk and smut)

in dreams by @haydolce (strangers to friends to lovers, neighbors au, punk louis, teacher harry/tattoo artist louis, this shit is so cute, mentions of harry’s ex, slow burn, sharing a bed, mentions of insomnia, secret admirer au, falling in love, louis just wants to see harry happy, getting together)

i don’t wanna be your friend, i wanna kiss your neck by crybaby (omega harry/alpha louis, louis is gemma’s best friend au, drug/alcohol use, hopeless romantic harry, mentions of louis/omc, friends to fwb to lovers, angst, thigh fucking, possessive louis we love to see it, getting together)

it’s halftime. are you ready to go? by @gaycousinlarry (coworkers au, friends to lovers, mutual pining, body worship, prostate orgasm, overwhelming crushes, implied getting together, harry is infatuated with louis what’s new)

introduction to dynamics by @juliusschmidt (college/university au, omega louis/unlabeled harry, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, i think this fic is so cute, miscommunication, mentioned tense / uncomfortable family dynamics, light angst, getting together)

knock knock, i love you by @thelovejandles (college/university au, classmates to lovers, virgin harry, harry is louis’ baby, fluff, light hurt/comfort, dirty talk, orgasm denial, getting together, kinda wanted to fight their teacher at one point tbh - no one would’ve noticed if she hadn’t said anything but i digress lol, i love this fic, top tier dirty talk and smut)

let’s talk about making love by istajmaal (phone sex operator louis, dom/sub undertones, self spanking(?), daddy kink, harry is louis’ baby, this fic has such good dirty talk omg, angst, strangers to fwb to lovers, getting together, requires a bit of suspension of disbelief tbh imo but the fic is absolutely good enough to overlook that aspect)

like how your hands feel me up and down by ballsdeepinjesus (halloween au, classmates to lovers, semi public sex, feminization, dom/sub undertones, fics where harry has a crush on louis & they get together & the vibes are very harry is louis’ baby are my shit & this is one of them, getting together, i love this fic)

lemon eyes by @turnyourankle (strangers to fwb to lovers, college/unversity au, alpha louis/omega harry, miscommunication, they kinda share that really, jealousy, angst, minor injuries from a bike accident, slow burn, getting together, harry is louis’ baby, the smut and dirty talk is top tier)

let me outshine the moon by sarcasticfluentry (vampire au, vampire louis/human harry, public sex, dom/sub undertones, exhibitionism, possessive louis, strangers to lovers, implied getting together, pain kink, praise kink)

my service, your pleasure by @hershelsue (best friends to lovers, service kink, praise kink, humiliation kink, dom/sub undertones, roommates, first time au, i betaed this and i love how it turned out)

my pleasure (to make you mine) by @zanniscaramouche (strangers to lovers, piercer louis, pain kink, praise kink, nipple play, slight miscommunication, dom/sub undertones, also one of my fav fics, harry is louis’ baby)

no bunny but you by @crinkle-eyed-boo (strangers to lovers, bartender harry/artist louis, punk louis, semi public sex, dom/sub undertones, slight daddy kink, getting together, light nipple play, face fucking, louis is a minx what’s new)

never be by @cherrystreet (study abroad au, college/university au, strangers to friends to lovers to exes to lovers, minor louis/omc, minor harry/omc, pining, angst, louis is a little shit and harry is obsessed with him what’s new, i love this fic)

our lives, non fiction by @indiaalphawhiskey (marcel au, enemies to fwb to lovers, book tour, author louis/author harry, first time, top tier smut/dirty talk, kink exploration, marcel is louis’ baby, mild angst, miscommunication turned healthy communication, mentions of past toxic/unhealthy relationship, getting together, a very good lesson about love and the standards we hold)

oh glory by @alivingfire (olympics au, swimmer harry/gymnast louis, mentions of zouis, louis seduces harry by breathing and makes his life a chaotic rollercoaster but like. with love, praise kink, dom/sub undertones, light bondage, angst, strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of homophobia in sports environments)

picture this by @kingsofeverything (misunderstandings, flustered harry, light hurt/comfort, light dom/sub undertones imo at least, acquaintances to lovers)

ready to fall by @crazyupsetter (radio dj louis/singer harry, acquaintances to fwb to lovers, harry is obsessed with louis what’s new, courting, louis is a little shit, slow burn kinda, getting together, it reads like harry is closeted in this fic but if so he’s inside of the most clear glass closet ever, but i also could’ve read those parts wrong, semi public sex, bathroom sex, louis is a minx)

skip the small talk by @sadaveniren (omega louis/alpha harry, dom/sub undertones, wax play, breeding kink, bdsm elements, mating kink, overall a top tier fic, harry is louis’ baby)

secrets don’t make friends by @thedevilinmybrain (daddy kink, dom/sub undertones, service kink, domestic kink, feminization, college/university au, harry is louis’ baby, hurt/comfort, this is one of my fav fics)

say something by @kingsofeverything (omega harry/alpha louis, divorced harry, older harry/younger louis, pregnancy kink, mpreg harry, mentions of cheating and assholes exes, angst, miscommunication, harry is louis’ baby)

staring across the room by @allwaswell16 (strangers to ‘enemies’ to lovers, installation coordinator louis/librarian harry, harry thinks louis is annoying and louis just wants harry’s attention, lots of fluff, miscommunication, getting together, smut, cute narry friendship louis teases and seduces harry and i love it. i also love the super cute and funny sequel)

strip that down by @chloehl10 (friends to lovers, college/university au, thigh fucking, waxing, pain pink, semi public sex, louis loves and worships harry’s thighs nothing new here we love to see it)

star strangers by @sunshineandhisrainbows (strangers to friends to lovers, photographer/songwriter/law student/singer harry, tour leader/guide louis, implied/referenced homphobia/homophobic laws, implied/referenced internal homophobia, self esteem issues, sexual tension is written so well i could cry, travel abroad au, minor louis/ofc at the beginning, sexual exploration, hurt/comfort, slow burn, they kind of share that really, mentions of cheating - not larry, all zarry wants is to see louis happy)

stars will align for us by @2tiedships2 (alpha louis/omega harry, strangers to friends to lovers, lots of pining, much fluff, insecure harry, getting together, we all need to admit that harry is us when it comes to actually talking to our crushes ok, i love this fic)

them butterflies by @gaycousinlarry (social worker harry/graphic designer louis, past mentions of louis/omc, coming out, a few scenes with homophobia, they share that really, strangers to fwb to lovers, slight miscommunication, i love this fic tbh)

the flower that blooms in adversity by @hershelsue (strangers to lovers, unlabeled harry/alpha louis, pregnancy kink, lactation kink, light angst w/ a happy ending, praise kink, love this fic)

the money mark by @brightgolden (age difference, sugar baby au, alpha louis/omega harry, hostile/toxic work environment, exes to lovers, miscommunication, semi slow burn, mild angst, getting together)

this is my jam by @disgruntledkittenface (historical/90s au, gay bathhouse, closeted harry, mentions of hiv/aids, strangers to lovers, praise kink, exhibitionism, normally i despise ambiguous endings but i’m not mad at this one, i love this fic sm omg it’s so well done, dom/sub undertones)

we are ghosts amongst these hills by orphan_account (farmer louis/artist harry, soulmates au, reincarnation au, historical au, this fic made me miss a soulmate from the 17th century that i do not have, slow burn, it says a dash of angst and i firmly disagree this shit made me cry, period typical homophobia, angst, when i finished reading i had to go back to look for all the things i’d missed the first time, harry is louis’ baby, getting together, mentioned nemma)

wasn’t expecting that by @yourpricelessadvice (single dad harry, construction worker harry/teacher louis, one night stand turned into forever, hurt/comfort, angst, coming out, louis introduces our mans harry to gay sex, harry is louis’ baby)

want you more than a by @donotdialnine (harry is louis’ baby, best friend’s brother au, they share that really, dom/sub undertones, praise kink, a few occurrences of bullying, first time, domesticity kink, also obsessed w this fic + the alternate ending)

want it flowing through my streams by @screwstyles (tennis au, grand slam au, alpha louis/omega harry, strangers to friends (if u squint) to lovers, bad boy louis, the way their relationship progresses is so cute i love it)

what do you mean he’s coming? by @mediawhorefics (mild angst, famous louis/non famous harry, actor louis/photographer harry, louis is gemma’s best friend au, banter, a break in the third wall at one point imo, harry is louis’ baby, getting together, literally such a cute fic ugh)

young hearts on the chase by @polaroidlouis (college/university au, omega harry/alpha louis, courting, oblivious louis, fluff, this is so cute i could cry, strangers to friends to lovers, getting together)

i cannot believe this took me 80 years to make, nor can i believe i have 50 fics in here yet still had so many more i wanted to include. even tho it was slightly stressful to make bc i couldn’t add so many authors and fics that i’d wanted to, it was so much fun. 10/10 would do again for sure.

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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“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.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #enemies to lovers #dwd!harry #idk I always feel like theres more I need to put in here but idk #pls leave feedback and reblog

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twopoppies · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! I hope it’s not too annoying of a request but I was wondering if you or your followers can think of any fics that are kinda inspiring academically, especially regarding British literature, if that makes sense? I just finished rereading Come As You Are and every time I read it, it motivates me to read more and practice my writing because I want to be more like Harry from that fic hahaha and I’m looking for more fics which evoke this feeling since I’m starting my masters in October and I need all the help I can get. Thank you so much! (I absolutely love your master post and its my go to couple times a week!)

Hi sweetheart. Hmmm... I just reblogged my Dark Academia fic rec, but other than that I think it would be fics where one or the other are writers/poets etc. Not all of these are heavy on the writing/poetry, but they're all great fics.

Make Your Words A Weapon by @helloamhere (E, 36K) I recently read this a second time and it’s even better than I remembered. I love everything this author writes. This one just really hit me hard for whatever reason. Maybe it’s the way they explore Louis’ anxiety and coping mechanisms and pain and the way he pushes people away and protects himself, but also wants someone to push back just a bit and love him despite all of that. And the way Harry is the perfect foil for all of it, while also feeling like a fully developed character himself. Yeah, it’s probably all of that. Plus soul marks! (Musician Harry/Music Journalist Louis)

Our Lives, Non Fiction by @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 114K) this is, quite literally, the best fic I’ve read in years. It’s so well written, clever, funny, emotional, and sexy. Its draw you in immediately and you’ll end up falling in love with these characters before you know it. Don’t miss this one. Harry and Louis are both authors.

An Invincible Summer by Brooklyn_Babylon / @twopoppies (E, 45K) this one is mine, I hope you like it:

Never content to stay in one place for long, a few months down south researching for his novel seemed like an idyllic, slow-paced summer to Louis. He wasn’t ready for the blistering heat, the backbreaking work of watermelon picking, or how stifling the attitudes in rural Georgia would feel. And he definitely hadn’t anticipated falling in love with the farmer’s son.

The summer of 1946 would turn out to be everything worth writing about. Farmer Harry / author Louis

Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (E, 115K) Beautifully written, flawed characters and an emotionally engaging and ANGSTY plot. Super hot smut that made me cry like a fool. Banter, OT5 friendship, and the gritty realness of New York as a backdrop. Loved this one. Artist Harry / Author Louis

where your lips land by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite (E, 12K) Ok, I’ve recommended this one a few times and I really do love it. Anyway, I love fics where the two of them are both artists of some sort (Louis is a poet in this one, Harry is a photographer) because it allows for another layer of understanding and connection and support. I particularly love the way Louis’ tattoos are woven into this story with layered meaning. And, as always, just beautiful writing.

you’re writing lines about me by snazzyasalways (T, 4K) This is gorgeously written on that Dreamy, poetic style I happen to love. Louis is a blind poet, Harry is a baker, Harry falls in love with Louis’ words, then with him.

another hazy may by deLILah (M, 41K) Another author who writes great fic after great fic. This one has that dreamy quality I love and there’s also something about it that, at times, reminds me of a little bit of a Raymond Chandler novel. I know that’s weird...but, yeah, it does. Anyway, I love this one. Such a good read.

I would name the stars for you (I would take you there) by orphan_account (M, 91K) This is just beautifully written. Angst. Mutual pining. Dumb boys. Beautiful descriptions of art and creativity and fame and beautiful poetry.

Little Technicolor Things by scary_crow (M, 72K) This is truly one of the most beautiful pieces of writing I have ever read and it is an absolutely travesty that it’s not being talked about every day. This fic is gorgeous and poetic and romantic and heartbreaking and an explosion of metaphoric images and everything I never knew I needed but now that I have it I want to read it over and over and over.

But If This Ends by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense (E, 107K) This author referred to this fic as their “depressed vampire” fic while they were writing, and it is that. But it’s also a unique story with beautifully fleshed out characters, plot twists, and super hot smut. Go check it out! Vampire Harry / Writer Louis

24K Magic by @justalittlelouislove (E, 33K) FINALLY a category in which I can rec this author! I love everything they write, but this was the first one I’d read and it’s just great. Smooth dialogue, sexy smut, great description of character growth…just a really fun fic.

the best part of me (was always you) by @moonshinelouis-archive (E, 6K) Gorgeous writing. The descriptions of heartbreak and missing someone and still loving them were really well done. And I cried. Of course.

'Sup by MediaWhore (GA, 7K) Divorced, awkward Harry pining for silver fox Louis is a trope I never knew I needed, but I love it so much.

I Will Never Rust by stylez (E, 38K) I must have read this at least 5 years ago and I honestly don’t remember details, but my notes say “gorgeous, sad, sexy” so... I’m crossing my fingers that old me knew what she was talking about. It’s frat boy Harry so that could go either way. LOL! Student/Poet Harry.

Loyal Knight and True by rainbowninja167 / (E, 52K) Really original story, mystery and magic, great characterizations. All around a very good read!

Turning Page by purpledaisy (M, 68K) This author does a wonderful job with their characterizations which makes their fics such a pleasure to read. This one really has you rooting for curmudgeonly Louis and skittish/secretive Harry to figure their shit out and fall in love. If you like this one, make time to read this author’s fic, Walk That Mile – it’s one of my all time favorites. Sports journalist Louis.

Black with Autumn Rain by Whimsicule (T, 93K) This author is a favorite. If you like intense, creative stories, with complex characters and tight dialogue, you should read all of their fics. This one has the flavor of a Daphne du Maurier novel – dark, creepy, and moodily romantic. Plus a supernatural edge. It’s so good. Journalist Harry.

That Sounds Fake But Okay by dancingontheceiling (E, 113K) This one has a little bit of everything: Enemies to lovers, fake relationship, famous/not famous... plus, really good writing and some sexy smut scenes. Actor Louis / journalist Harry.

Sing When You're Winning by hazmesentir (NR, 91K) another one I read ages ago, but I always like this author’s writing and the premise of newly out footballer Louis and journalist intern Harry who somehow snags the interview, is such a fun one. And I don’t know why it has an NR rating, there’s plenty of smut.

feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream by togetherwecouldbealright (M, 123K) I read this one so, so long ago that all I remember is that I loved it, that there’s some really romantic and sweet moments, and that my notes from way back when only say, “OMG this one is so good! And I’ve barely gotten to the smut!” HAHAHAHA! Journalist Harry/prince Louis (this fic has been deleted, so the link is to a download).

#writers and poets #my fic rec #larry fic rec

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letterboxd · 4 years ago

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Chaotic Bisexual.

Shiva Baby writer-director Emma Seligman tells Ella Kemp about expanding her wildly cringey short film into an even more anxiety-inducing feature, why Virgo and Taurus make the perfect producing pair, and the eternal conflict of being a good Jewish girl.

“If I can skip a bris to see E.T., I like movies!” —Emma Seligman

It sounds like a strange riff on a guy-walks-into-a-bar joke: a girl walks into a shiva and bumps into her secret ex-girlfriend, then her sugar daddy, then his shiksa wife, oh, and their baby—yet the payoff is so much more rewarding.

Filmmaker Emma Seligman’s debut feature is a new kind of teen classic: 78 non-stop minutes teeming with well-drawn traits and tropes that define the best coming-of-agers, the best Jewish comedies and the best day-in-a-life psychological roller-coasters.

Shiva Baby began as a grad project—a short film of the same name—and Seligman’s feature-length embellishment impressed at last year’s virtual editions of SXSW and TIFF, where it was quickly snapped up for international distribution. In a way, Shiva Baby was perfectly tailored to the times we were living in: Danielle, our reluctant heroine, is trapped in a claustrophobic family event she can’t escape, as people from her past and lies about her future make their way deep under her skin.

Fred Melamed, Rachel Sennott and Polly Draper in ‘Shiva Baby’.

Shiva Baby is very much the product of a wry school of emerging filmmakers who understand excruciatingly mundane horror and pin-sharp comedy as intimate bedfellows. Seligman’s writing finds a way to flesh out gloriously caricatural Jewish relatives, probing and overbearing and irrational. She does this both through dialogue and a visceral, haptic aesthetic that lurches in and out of focus visually, and has a nails-on-chalkboard unease sonically.

Coming in hot with a 4.01 average rating, Shiva Baby is striking all sorts of discordant notes with film lovers. “Combines some of my biggest anxieties: being asked if I have a boyfriend as well as what my plans for the future are and people talking with their mouths full,” writes Muriel.

The film’s “bisexual chaos”, which hinges on a haywire performance from Rachel Sennott as Danielle, opposite Molly Gordon’s overachieving ex-girlfriend, Maya, is also one of its great strengths. Glee star Dianna Agron is the shiksa threat, Kim, while Danny Deferrari is Danielle’s hapless benefactor, Max. If that’s not enough? Polly Draper, Fred Melamed and Jackie Hoffman are also just there.

What do you think defines a Jewish sense of humor? Emma Seligman: It’s morbid usually, and darker—generally uncomfortable and cringeworthy. I think about Curb Your Enthusiasm or Seinfeld, and A Serious Man. It borders on, “Is this funny at all?” I think Jewish humor leans into the darkly funny British sense of humor. I’m Canadian, so I feel like I’m halfway between the UK and the US in terms of their sense of humor.

Was it always your intention to make a comedy that feels like a bit of a nightmare? You’ve mentioned Black Swan and Opening Night as touchstones… Because I came from a short film, the question when expanding into a feature was, “How are we going to keep everyone interested in this day?” It’s got to be a significant day, it’s got to be that this young woman’s life has completely changed from this day. So what is it that changes? Why are we watching it? I watched a lot of movies that took place in one day, one of them was Trey Edward Shults’ first film Krisha. And then from there I realized that anxiety and this scary psychological feeling is a great way to have the audience stay there.

I watched Opening Night because there’s a shiva in it, but it was more the lobby scenes that were so claustrophobic and tense. And then each step of the way with each department, we were like, okay, it’s gonna be tense, but then we got to music, I was like, okay, this has become a full nightmare. Initially, I was just like, it’s got to be tense, but by the end, I was like, well, it does feel like a nightmare to a young woman sometimes.

Because you mention that, I have to ask whether you’ve seen Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade? I have, it’s incredible. It’s so funny, they’re both coming-of-age [films], and one of them is about a fourteen year old and then the same sort of feeling exists when you’re 22. When you’re fourteen is when it begins, and when you’re 22 you’re sort of at the end of it and you’re like, “Oh, I thought I figured out what I was supposed to do when I started feeling insecure this way at fourteen about sex and boys.”

Diana Agron and Danny Deferrari in ‘Shiva Baby’.

Let’s talk about Rachel Sennott, who you have describe as your “Virgo rock”. What do you bring one another in your creative partnership? She’s a hustler, and she sets goals like nobody else. I think she moves very fast, and I’m more detail-oriented. I don’t know if the movie would have happened without her because she was like, “What are the goals to achieve this film?” After we made the short film, she just kept checking in with me. She goes well beyond what an actor does, which is why she’s an executive producer, because she was very, very invested in seeing the movie get made.

I think she pushes. We joke that she brings me out of my depression and I help calm her down. I feel like Taurus is a little more chill. Virgos are also earth signs, but they run on a faster frequency. So I think I calm her down, especially when we’re writing and bringing it back to structure. But she’s way funnier, she’s able to give jokes so quickly. We balance each other perfectly, for sure.

Do you think your partnership with Rachel is the kind of partnership you could see yourself maintaining throughout your career? Definitely. I think it’s important to have a good friend and also a young woman. She’s got different career goals from me, but they’re aligned. And we’re not in competition with each other. I feel so grateful because so much of the time I feel like the world does make you feel like you’re in competition with your friends that are trying to do the same thing as you when you’re a young woman—or just maybe in general.

Rachel Sennott and Danny Deferrari in ‘Shiva Baby’.

Her character in Shiva Baby completely subverts the idea of a “nice Jewish boy/girl” which can be a trope in movies, but also very much a real thing in life. Is that something you consciously wanted to subvert, or did it come organically from the story you wanted to tell? I wanted to contrast that idea of a “nice Jewish girl” because every nice Jewish girl or boy has a sex life. I felt the sort of nice Jewish girl stressors on me were completely opposite from the NYU art school sugaring worlds, and hookup culture broadly. My family is such a huge part of my life and I think that those two sets of pressures are completely contradictory; to be a good girl or boy and have a stable career ahead of you, and to be finding, even if it’s at the very beginning, your eventual partner, or to just be in a relationship. And I felt like in school, no one wanted to date, everyone was hooking up. So many of my friends are sugar babies. I tried it super, super briefly.

I felt like the world was telling me to be like “an empowered, independent, sexy woman who doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her, and doesn’t abide by any rules”, and I was like, “This is the opposite of being a nice Jewish girl!” And I just felt like those two things were screaming at me. So I did want to play on that. But I don’t even think it’s playing, just because that felt like what I was trying to battle within myself. And I think a lot of young people do, whether they’re Jewish or not. That’s their family’s expectations. And then the world is like, “But don’t care and don’t commit…”

Writer-director Emma Seligman. / Photo by Emma McIntyre

But then you still have to go home to your parents at the end of the day and they’re going to tell you what to do… Exactly.

What would you want viewers to take away from Shiva Baby about the sugaring community that you feel has been maligned in the past? I’m not a sex worker, so I don’t want to speak on behalf of this community, but I definitely feel like there hasn’t been many positive portrayals of sex workers. So I just wanted to show someone—because I knew so many friends of mine who did it—who enjoyed it, or purposefully did it and didn’t feel bad or shameful about it. I think maybe a lot of people think that it’s always something that comes out of dire circumstances. But whether that is the case or not, I think there’s a lot of people who enjoy it and enjoy what they do like any other job. So I just hope that they’re able to sort of widen their scope of what a sex worker looks like and acts like. Every sex worker has got a family, friends, a full robust life, as we all do.

It’s time for your Life in Film questionnaire. Can you give me a few must-watch Jewish films for people who don’t know where to start? Fiddler on the Roof, Yentl, Keeping the Faith, Kissing Jessica Stein, A Serious Man. Definitely Uncut Gems, and Crossing Delancey.

Shiva Baby has been described on Letterboxd, variously, as “Uncut Gems but make it chaotic bisexual”, “the most stressful Jewish movie since Uncut Gems”, “the chaotic successor of Uncut Gems”, “if Krisha and Uncut Gems had a baby”, and, of course, “Uncut Gems for hot Jewish sluts”… Amazing, I love that. Extremely nice comparison.

Who is your favorite promising young woman? Not Emerald Fennell’s film, but a young creative or performer who you think is making waves. I love Hari Nef—I think she’s amazing and am really excited to see what she does next. I loved her so much in Transparent and Assassination Nation, and I don’t understand why she hasn’t been the lead in a million movies.

Molly Gordon with Rachel Sennott in ‘Shiva Baby’.

What should people watch next after Shiva Baby? Those Jewish movies would be a great start. And then Krisha, although I think a lot of people have seen it especially if they’re on Letterboxd! But then those Jewish romantic comedies, and then Obvious Child, all those movies are very sweet and endearing and helped me make it.

Separate from film, if it’s shiva-related then Transparent. If I didn’t have Transparent I don’t think I would have seen world of grounded, nuanced Jews that I could do comedy with. It would have been more in the Curb vein, which is also amazing, but a little more schtick.

What was the first film that made you want to be a filmmaker? My parents are huge movie buffs so I’m not sure there was one moment, but I will say that when I was six there was a re-release of the 20-year anniversary of E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial and I was at a horribly packed bris and my uncle was like, “Fuck this, there are so many people here, I can’t even breathe. Let’s go see E.T.” That was the first moment where I was like, if I can skip a bris to see E.T., I like movies.

Related content

From Short to Feature: Rob’s list of 2020 films that made the jump

Jewish Cinema (non-Holocaust): Amelia’s list of films “for when u want to celebrate your heritage but don’t want to have to think all too deeply about the Shoah”

Best Directorial Debuts of 2020: suggested by Letterboxd members, featuring Shiva Baby

Follow Ella on Letterboxd

Shiva Baby is now in select theaters and on VOD in the US. Film stills by Maria Rusche.

#shiva baby #emma seligman #jewish filmmaker #jewish director #directed by women #rachel sennott #jewish film #jewish movie #transparent #uncut gems #hari nef #e.t. the extra terrestrial #obvious child #krisha #trey edward shults

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jocia92 · 3 years ago

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In a Zoom interview, Stevens explains he knew how to speak German having studied it in school and having visited Germany several times in his youth. Eggert also spoke about the film via Zoom from Berlin, where she is rehearsing for a play that ironically is about Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.

Angela Dawson: Dan, were you fluent in German before signing onto I’m Your Man?

Dan Stevens: I’m always nervous about the word “fluent” because I feel like if I say that somebody’s going to throw me into a situation where I’m totally out of my depth. I would say that my German is good. I’ve always loved the language. I’ve spoken it since I was about 13, maybe even earlier because my parents had friends who lived in Germany. We used to vacation there quite a lot when I was a child, and then I studied it at school. I did a movie (Hilde) there about 13 years ago playing an Englishman who spoke German. So, I had been in a German movie previously, but nothing like this. This was a totally different thing.

The level of German that is required for Tom, even for a German, is pretty strange and unusual. So, I definitely polished it up to get out there and tackle this role but I (had the language skills) to begin with.

Dawson: Maren, how was Dan’s German?

Maren Eggert: He really worked on it a lot. He did well because he has a talent for languages. He really wanted to do it so he threw himself into it. I’d tell him I wanted to speak to him in English so I could practice it, but he wanted to speak German so he could practice it. So, he really worked on that. I think it was great for the part because he’s just so charming and friendly. As an actor, he has the ability to go straight into a character. He doesn’t make mistakes with his performance.

Stevens: Sometimes she would speak to me in English and I would answer in German, which is a great exercise. I had the whole cast and crew speak to me in German the whole time. Occasionally, we’d have certain conversations in English but most everything was in German. It was great because it kept me in the zone of thinking in German.

Dawson: Dan, you play a robot so there’s something not-quite-human in how you act as Tom.

Stevens: Ultimately, he has to be lovable but also a little strange. I think that was one of the motivations for Maria (Schrader, the director) looking to cast outside of Germany for a foreign actor who could speak German. However good your German is, it’s rare to find an outsider who can sound totally German. The idea that Alma’s ideal robot would speak German, for practical purposes, but maybe have a bit of an accent—a little bit exotic, but not too exotic is what he defines it as—so they settle on British for her. She’s confused by this but the algorithm—the program—has created this for her. It’s one of the many things that throws her about this whole experiment.

I wanted to create something that was uncanny but not in a too weird a way. It’s strange but also intriguing and ultimately kind of lovable.

Dawson: The scene in which Tom is in a field with a herd of deer surrounding him unafraid has a lot of symbolism in it. Alma sees him as this man she’s falling in love with yet she also realizes that the reason the deer are unafraid is because he’s not human. What’s your interpretation of that scene?

Stevens: That whole sequence with the deer and with Alma and Tom lying in the grass and talking about memories, that was a big step on in terms of the evolution of Tom’s humanity, I suppose. Most of the time, we’re in Alma’s apartment or in the museum. As he says, (being out in the field), “is a nature experience.” Getting them out of the city and out of those conventional settings and putting them in this bucolic setting of a German forest and having these lovers wandering through it, it has that classical feel to it. Whether directly or indirectly, it gets through to the viewer that we’re in this beautiful setting, isn’t it romantic? It tees up what’s to come. It’s a beautiful sequence. It’s also the first time I’ve spoken Korean.

Dawson: Maren, what’s your interpretation of that scene?

Eggert: For Alma, it really helps her put Tom in the right space. At this point of the film, she’s already falling in love with him but there’s this moment where she can watch him from a distance.

Dawson: The release of I’m Your Man couldn’t be timelier because so many people have been locked away unable to pursue romantic relationships for over a year now. People are lonely; they miss human contact.

Stevens: I don’t know about the loneliness so much but it definitely spoke to me when I read this in the Spring of 2020. It was the peak of the pandemic. It was definitely a time of deep reflection both inward and outward—that sense of “how did we get here?” It was a collective thing about looking at humanity which is sort of what Tom does all the way through the movie. He’s looking at Alma but also trying to learn about her environment—this world that she’s in—as quickly as he can. He’s trying to get that information. The most affecting scenes I found in an odd way was the sequence where Tom is watching a young couple watching epic fail videos at the coffee shop. It’s not something I habitually watch but my kids love them. Maria forces us to sit with them quite a bit. It’s not just one or two fails, it’s a whole bunch of them. It goes on almost too long and stops being funny and starts being a little sad. You get contemplative about humanity in that scene and start feeling sorry for Tom that he has to absorb all this. It’s like, “What are we doing?”

So, a lot of that sentiment I was really feeling last spring and summer. I feel that a lot of that went into the film. I guess it’s still resonating with people. The technological question of coping with loneliness—I hadn’t thought of that as a consequence—but I suppose you’re right.

Dawson: In films and other stories about robots, people always seem to be mistrustful, yet robots are increasingly part of our lives. Why do you suppose our first instinct as humans is to be wary of robots?

Eggert: I don’t know. Maybe because we can’t control it. We can’t see inside. It’s like a stranger and we always react (with caution) to strangers. Personally, I can totally understand Alma’s reaction because I would react the same: I’d want to control the robot. Throughout the story, she has to learn to know this robot. That’s the fascination she has with it.

Dawson: Do you think having Maria Schrader direct this, an actress herself, helped tell the story from a woman’s point-of-view?

Eggert: Yes, of course. She really encouraged me a lot. We have a lot in common in terms of how we look at filmmaking and how scenes work and with the character, she really pushed me to go a little further. She encouraged me and I think that really was between us women.

Dawson: What are each of you working on now?

Stevens: I’m shooting Gaslit, a miniseries about Watergate in which I play John Dean. People I’ve spoken with remember watching (the Congressional hearings) and seeing it as one of the first political soap operas. It was very much an analog political soap opera scandal. So, that’s been a lot of fun. We’re in the final weeks of that.

Eggert: I’m working in theater; I do a lot of theater here in Berlin. It’s a project on Frankenstein and Mary Shelley. That too is also about artificial intelligence and connects to I’m Your Man. It’s really fun to think about what scares me and what is this monster. It opens in two weeks. Afterwards, I’m doing another movie where I’m playing a conductor, so I’m training to do that. I wanted to be a conductor as a child, so I’m looking forward to playing one.

#ich bin dein mensch #i'm your man #dan stevens #maren eggert #forbes #interview

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merlinmyrddin · 3 years ago

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Hello!

Can you recommend me some very underatted gay movies? (I prefer comdey or happy ones if it's possible)

I recently came to realize i am a 23 man who happens to be gay. I don't know what took me so long.

Hello! I am sorry for the time it took me to answer you, but your ask has been playing constantly in my head now for weeks and I had to go down nostalgia lane film-wise...!

I'm also sorry for how long this answer is, I got carried away!!!

So first of all, I am damn proud if you. I know it sounds like empty words but whether you're 13, 23, or 45, being able to say you have found your inner truth is always something to be proud of! And what took you so long? It didn't. We are living in times where people want you to believe you are meant to have your sexuality and/or gender figured out by 18 when in reality, I know more people doing their coming out in their 20's/30's. Because when it comes to being gay, lesbian, bi, trans and queer : this last decade has seen some major changes. But it's ok for people born late 80's and 90's to come out "just" now. We grew up in a time where homosexuality was still taboo in most places. And when I say taboo, I mean that "homosexual" was barely pronounced, sometimes only whispered. A time where "gay panic" was a legitimate defense in court. (Talking from a Western European point of view here again. Many places in the world, including the USA still consider the murder of an homosexual or transgender victim as a legitimate act. And these last years has proven that there was not only the "gay/trans panic" crippling our streets, but also a "black panic" and more recently, an "Asian panic". Short aparte here : "gay panic" doesnt mean "omg, that person is making me question my identity!?" nor is it a term used when thirsty over an actor/actress when openly gay such as "[actor name] oh wow...*gay panic intensifies*... this term is a serious concept a murderer can use in court as a defense when taking the life of someone from the community. This is the law enabling hate crimes.)

To any younger people reading this right now : gay marriage has been legal in France since 2013, in the UK since 2014 and, allegedly, in the US since 2015. This is recent history. People who are mid-20's are historically closer to the HIV/AIDs crisis than of the legalisation of same-sex marriage.

As such, we are made to believe than coming out in our twenties or thirties is doing a late coming out. No, it's not. We are a generation who suffered through systemic homophobia in our formative teenage years. When we were trying to figure who we were, people were marching in the streets calling us names, and trying to defend the idea we did not deserve basic humans rights. (As a side note, I am not implying that such issues are not currently happening. This is mostly western European centred again as I am, well, European. This is also targeted towards sexuality orientations, excluding any gender talks as this is still currently a very real societal issue for which the fight has only just begun. Double side note : I'm not yet fully caffeinated. But hopefully you get the general idea despite my flagrant lack of eloquence on this fine morning.)

Alright, let's move on to films then!

I searched for a long time for happy / comedic films but then I realised I was definitly not the right person to answer that. On a general basis, I enjoy dramas. That's my thing.

So instead, I thought I would list you the first LGBTQ+ Films I ever watched, hoping they'll find you well.

-Stonewall (1995). Not my favourite film, but as a kid, it was great first jump into lgbtq+ history. Sad note : The director of this film died of AIDS shortly after.

-Another country (1984) Based in the 1930's in a public school. Starring Rupert Everett (who just a few years ago came to direct "The Happy Prince", a great take on Oscar Wilde and Alfred Douglas, casting himself as Wilde, and Colin Morgan as Bosie...fantastic film, highly recommand), and starring Colin Firth. Teenagers discovering themselves, from homosexuality to politics. (The parralele made is quite interesting as both young men are misfits...one for being gay, one for being Marxist.) Great watch, but a heavy one.

-Maurice. (1987) God, I love this film. It explores not only coming to term with your sexuality but also what it means to be homosexual for the people around you and the impact it can have on your life, depending on your social background. Starring James Wilby, Hugh Grant and Rupert Graves, this is an other drama which leaves you feeling almost raw. I always had an affinity for British film because of how...real they feel. Best example would probably be Danny Boyle himself. You know what I mean... you grow attached and you feel for these characters. And Maurice does just that. Memorable quote : I am an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort. (And you might think : "Oscar Wilde? Again??" And oh boy, yes. Oscar Wilde again. Yes, he is one of the most well known author, mostly because of The Picture of Dorian Gray, but he is also a major part of Queer history. After all, "queer" has been used as a derogatory term for homosexuals for the time...directed at Wilde during his trial for posing as a somdomite. (No typo there.) Being an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort is an other one of the euphemism like "being a friend of Dorothy") And talking about Wilde...

-Wilde (1997). Biopic, Stephen Fry as Oscar, Jude law as Oscar's lover : Bosie. Incredible. Superb film. I can not find words.

-An Englishman in New-York (not the Sting song. Actually yes, kinda the Sting song. Because both the film and the song are about the same man : Quentin Crisp). Biopic. An artist, writer, actor, Quentin Crisp has always bothered. Painting his nails, wearing make up, criticising the royal family. He was a character. John hurt is magnificent as Crisp, who he had already played in 1975 in The Naked Civil Servant, an other great watch.

- A Single Man (2009). With Nicholas Hoult and Colin Firth. This film was a slap in my face. And it has, in my opinion, one of the greatest speech of all time, during a scene in the classroom :

"[...]Let's leave the Jews out of this just for a moment. Let's think of another minority. One that... One that can go unnoticed if it needs to. There are all sorts of minorities, blondes for example... Or people with freckles. But a minority is only thought of as one when it constitutes some kind of threat to the majority. A real threat or an imagined one. And therein lies the fear. If the minority is somehow invisible, then the fear is much greater. That fear is why the minority is persecuted. So, you see there always is a cause. The cause is fear. Minorities are just people. People like us."

-Pride (2014). [TRAILER] Bloody hell, that film. When we talk about lgbtq+ history, we often thing about the pink triangle and the holocaust, Reagan, Stonewall, AIDS and... fucking Maggie. Margaret Thatcher, the Iron Lady. Again, funny how the past is closer than we think, as I still have friends of mine talking to me about that period in British history that they lived through. The minors strike. The poverty, the crisis of the working class and the HIV crisis. But if you are looking for a film full of hope, from tears to laughter, this is the one. Bread and Roses. Bread, and Roses. And a message, which I believe is the essence of our community to this day : solidarity forever. After all...there is power in a union.

If anybody has other films to add, you are more than welcome to do so.

Love you all xx

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who-am-i-no-one · 4 years ago

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Emma. (2020)

I watched this movie in late January. After multiple viewings and re-reading the book, I have a lot of thoughts about this adaptation.

It seems rather strange, given that Emma is part of my holy trinity of Austen novels, that I didn't watched the most recent adaptation earlier. I think it was mostly due to my initial impression that Anya Taylor-Joy's otherworldly looks didn't quite match what I had in mind for the titular character. I decided to give this version a try after watching Queen's Gambit. Not sure that Anya's looks will ever grow on me, but she did impress me as a young actress who seemed to have a maturity beyond her years.

Long story short: really wished I had seen this movie earlier! It is absurd and heartfelt at the same time, imo, the version that best imbues Austen's humor. It is now my favorite adaption, with the possible exception of Clueless, and I'm not quite sure how much of that is just nostalgia.

From the casting to the direction to the script to the costumes to the set to the soundtrack, I could tell the creative team really put a lot of love into this project. It's always a joy to watch something that's made with love and made well.

Direction

Autumn de Wilde's directing is quite good. I would never have thought this was her first feature. She certainly has a unique and colorful style, which is probably to be expected for such a famous photographer.

Funnily, while watching the movie I kept thinking it reminded me of early Hollywood romantic comedies like Bringing Up Baby (incidentally one of my favorites) or The Philadelphia Story, and then reading interviews and seeing that she had tried to bring in some of that style of humor made me feel rather validated. Also the servants' reactions were awesome!

Absolutely loved the fact that they decided to show that Knightley and Emma were in love with each other very early on in the story, with Knightley more aware of it. I've read some people complaining about the surprise of Emma's being in love being ruined. But come on, did anyone reading two chapters into the book think it wasn't going to be the two of them together in the end?

Loved how much of Knightley's point of view we got in this movie. This is one repressed pinning man. I can totally see this Knightley riding ventre a terre from London in the rain because he thought Emma was heartbroken.

The only gripe I had was the lack of Frank and Jane's subplot. As it seems they shot some scenes for that, I assume it was the director's discretion to take them out. I remember thinking while watching the movie that they must have expected the audience to be familiar with the story because some things just didn't really get explained or extrapolated on a lot. If you hadn't read the book it'd be 30 minutes or more into the movie before you put two and two together and figured out why Mr. Knightley is always at Hartfield.

Script

The script takes most of the dialogue directly from the book, which is awesome. I love Austen's writing because there is a certain musicality to it and retaining that in large part for the movie really made it better for me. The deftness with which Eleanor Catton moved dialogue from one scene in the book to a totally different one in the movie was quite brilliant. Everything flowed so well.

The scenes that differed from the book were also excellent - namely, I really loved the Jane/Knightley duet, the infamous nosebleed and first kiss scenes. 💖 I thought the screenwriter used those changes to quickly establish plot points and character arcs well.

Costume/Hair

Not a Recency expert so can't say much about the costumes and hair as far as period correctness but from reading other reviews it seemed like they were very true to the period. Obviously appreciated them taking the time to show the audience how men got dressed in that time (purely for research purposes obviously 😜).

Emma's dresses were all quite beautiful. I especially loved the black evening dress, the pink one with the roses and the proposal dress. Also loved the little pop of red shoes that went with the proposal dress. As someone who wore red shoes with her wedding gown I heartily approve.

Absolutely loved how Emma's curls unwound as her life unravels. Similarly think they must have done the same for Knightley to a lesser extent. His hair during the card playing scene at the Westons was quite terrible.

Set

I! Loved! Hartfield! It looked just like a doll house. Really most of the sets looked good enough to eat. So much pastel. Reminded me of French macarons.

I liked how everything in Donwell Abbey was shrouded in Holland covers. Makes a good point that Knightley barely lives there at all, that his home has been with the Woodhouses for quite a while now. Which, of course, makes his sacrifice at the end just a little bit less of a sacrifice?

Soundtrack

Isabella Waller-Bridge's music really meshed well with the tone of the entire film. The male and female opera singers, sometimes sounding as if they are bickering with each other and other times seeming to be in duet, was a brilliant touch. The folk music was a little jarring at first but really grew on me.

Johnny Flynn's end credits song "Queen Bee" is amazing. I love that we get Knightley's perspective at the end with a song written and sung by Knightley. It's a lovely coda to the movie. And now, if the next Austen hero doesn't write one for his SO I'm going to think him a very poor sort of lover.

Cast

Anya's Emma was really great. I'm glad they allowed Emma to be her bitchy self. Lol. I haven't watched the 1996 and 2009 versions in a while but I distinctly remember them making Emma too nice. I recall writing after watching the Garai version that Emma was actually mean and they should have let her be mean! If she's not a brat in the beginning, how will we see her change for the better later on? I love what a snob and how manipulative this Emma was and so assured of her place in her little society but still had the vulnerability of almost an imposter's syndrome which I feel most people can relate to.

Her chemistry with Johnny Flynn's Knightley was off the charts. Pretty much every scene they had together I half expected them to reenact the library scene from Atonement lol.

Mia Goth was a wonderful Harriet. She really captured Harriet's inexperience, naivete and diffidence. The orgasmic sounds she was making during the gypsies attack scene were awesome. Although, I could probably have forgone a few of Harriet's scenes for more Frank and Jane.

Not sure why they made Mia go brunette since the book specifically mentioned Harriet was fair? Perhaps having all three leads as blondes was just a bit too much. I'm also not sure if I liked Harriet's ending as I really don't think Emma, even in her most contrite mood, would invite further friendship from a tradesman's daughter and soon-to-be her husband's tenant farmer's wife. This seems a piece of modern day wishful thinking on the part of the creative team.

Bill Nighy was so good as Mr. Woodhouse. He made it so believable why everyone would do everything in their power to accommodate his whims. The gag with the screens was too funny. He was able to sketch out a lonely quirky old man who is afraid to lose those close to him in very limited screen time. Absolutely loved the scene where Emma was heaping blame on herself and he just sat with her in sympathetic silence.

Miranda Hart's Miss Bates was excellent as well. She has long been one of my favorite British comedic actresses but she can also do drama well. Her reaction to Emma's teasing on Box Hill and her forgiveness of Emma later brought me to tears.

Josh O'Connor's Mr. Elton was deliciously creepy. The carriage proposal scene was at once a little scary and hilarious. I actually liked the portrait scenes a little less because I found the acting there slightly affected and veering into 1995 Mr. Collins territory. But as Austen described Elton as having "a sort of parade in his speeches", this was much more forgivable. Really loved Mr. Elton's determination to eat cake during the Eltons' visit to Hartfield.

Tanya Reynolds was an excellent Mrs. Elton and in very little screen time was able to bring to life this meddlesome nouveau riche. Adored her little shimmy during the ball.

Amber Anderson's Jane really looked as if she were in a decline. Callum Turner did a good job as a slightly restless, mischievous and immature Frank Churchill. I did feel his looks were a bit too modern but that's just my personal view.

Given how many scenes they had I thought they used the time they had pretty well with furtive glances and sly smiles at each other to establish the relationship.

Connor Swindells was such a love sick puppy as Robert Martin. Did this role ever get cast in other adaptations? I don't seem to recall at all.

Special shoutout to Oliver Chris's John Knightley. Absolutely had me in stitches.

And last but never the least, Johnny Flynn's Mr. Knightley:

To preface, I will never not fall for Mr. Knightley in any version that I watch. And really, get yourself a good looking enough actor with good enough chemistry with Emma and good enough acting chops and you should have a fairly successful Knightley.

I judge all my Knightleys by the Box Hill scene. And up to that point in the movie, I really liked Johnny Flynn's Knightley. He was playful and sexy and jealous and slightly bitchy as well. The duet scene was lovely because I always appreciate a man who can play instruments and sing well. The sexiness and chemistry of the dance scene was off the charts. That's all well and good. And like I said before, given any well cast actor, I probably would have liked them in those scenes as well, just as I've liked Northam's and Miller's Knightleys.

But, the Box Hill scene absolutely blew me away. To make sure I was not just biased towards the last Knightley I saw on screen, I did go back and compare each version's Box Hill scene and I am, actually, even more blown away. Some of it is a credit to the directing and script, but a large part of it is Johnny Flynn's acting in that scene.

As far a script and directing, the set up to the fight scene was fantastic. Loved Anya's expression changes after she makes the joke. Loved Miranda Hart's Miss Bates as she realizes what Emma meant. The silence that followed. Knightley's shocked face and how sympathetic he was to Miss Bates. Can probably write a whole thing just about this scene alone.

I loved the fact that Knightley had an internal struggle as to whether or not to approach Emma and reproach her for her behavior. I know the book has him tell Emma about his struggle but that just doesn't work as well for me on screen.

During the scene you can just tell how frustrated and disappointed in her he is even though he tries to keep his voice low. But the way he reprimands her does not at all feel lecture-y and I feel like part of it is because it seems like he starts to lose control a little bit as well. His voice starts to crescendo as she stubbornly refuses to admit she was in the wrong and culminates in "badly done, indeed!" with actual fingerpointing. Yikes.

Then he losses steam and looked regretful, almost devastatingly so, at his own outburst and perhaps felt that he was losing her by giving this speech and looked as if he would have said something more - an apology or some words of comfort to soften the blow? - but didn't.

This remorse and the struggle at the beginning really bookended the scene for me.

Absolutely loved his Knightley, and, really, him as an actor after that.

The proposal scene as well was very good. His delivery was just really good. The way he said "If I loved you less then I might be able to talk about it more." with some regret and then closing his eyes as if he can't believe what he just said. Soooo good. Also, he cries very pretty, lol.

The delivery of the three "yes" during the kiss scene as Emma asked for confirmation that he really was ok with giving up his house to come live with them was also brilliant. It just kept getting softer and softer but he never breaks eye contact. Absolute chef's kiss. His closed eyed little smile of content after Emma kisses him just made me melt into a puddle.

Yup, overall I'd say I rather liked his interpretation of Mr. George Knightley. 😜

I did wish they hadn't giving him such sideburns but after watching some Emma interviews I can totally understand. If he didn't have the sideburns there'd be more complaints about how young this Knightley was. He's got such a baby face.

...I seemed to have written an entire essay on this movie...yeah, I just have a lot of feelings and thoughts about this version...

#Emma #emma 2020 #jane austen #movie review #austen adaptations

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chiseler · 3 years ago

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The Mysterious Death of a Hollywood Director

This is the tale of a very famous Hollywood mogul and a not-so-famous movie director. In May of 1933 they embarked together on a hunting trip to Canada, but only one of them came back alive. It’s an unusual tale with an uncertain ending, and to the best of my knowledge it’s never been told before.

I. The Mogul

When we consider the factors that enabled the Hollywood studio system to work as well as it did during its peak years, circa 1920 to 1950, we begin with the moguls, those larger-than-life studio chieftains who were the true stars on their respective lots. They were tough, shrewd, vital, and hard working men. Most were Jewish, first- or second-generation immigrants from Europe or Russia; physically on the small side but nonetheless formidable and – no small thing – adaptable. Despite constant evolution in popular culture, technology, and political and economic conditions in their industry and the outside world, most of the moguls who made their way to the top during the silent era held onto their power and wielded it for decades. Their names are still familiar: Zukor, Goldwyn, Mayer, Jack Warner and his brothers, and a few more. And of course, Darryl F. Zanuck. In many ways Zanuck personified the common image of the Hollywood mogul. He was an energetic, cigar-chewing, polo mallet-swinging bantam of a man, largely self-educated, with a keen aptitude for screen storytelling and a well-honed sense of what the public wanted to see. Like Charlie Chaplin he was widely assumed to be Jewish, and also like Chaplin he was not, but in every other respect Zanuck was the very embodiment of the dynamic, supremely confident Hollywood showman.

In the mid-1920s he got a job as a screenwriter at Warner Brothers, at a time when that studio was still something of a podunk operation. The young man succeeded on a grand scale, and was head of production before he was 30 years old. Ironically, the classic Warners house style, i.e. clipped, topical, and earthy, often dark and sometimes grimly funny, as in such iconic films as The Public Enemy, I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, and 42nd Street, was established not by Jack, Harry, Sam, or Albert Warner, but by Darryl Zanuck, who was the driving force behind those hits and many others from the crucial early talkie period. He played a key role in launching the gangster cycle and a new wave of sassy show biz musicals. At some point during 1932-33, however, Zanuck realized he would never rise above his status as Jack Warner’s right-hand man and run the studio, no matter how successful his projects proved to be, because of two insurmountable obstacles: 1) his name was not Warner, and 2) he was a Gentile. Therefore, in order to achieve complete autonomy, Zanuck concluded that he would have to start his own company.

In mid-April of 1933 he picked a public fight with Jack Warner over a staff salary issue, then abruptly resigned. Next, he turned his attention to setting up a company in partnership with veteran producer Joseph Schenck, who was able to raise sufficient funds to launch the new concern. And then, Zanuck invited several associates from Warner Brothers to accompany him on an extended hunting trip in Canada.

Going into the wilderness and killing wild game, a pastime many Americans still regard as a routine, unremarkable form of recreation, is also of course a conspicuous show of machismo. But in this realm, as with his legendary libido, Zanuck was in a class by himself. He had been an enthusiastic hunter most of his life, dating back to his boyhood in Nebraska. Once he became a big wheel at Warners in the late ’20s he took to organizing high-style duck-hunting expeditions: the young executive and his fellow sportsmen would travel to the appointed location in private railroad cars, staffed by uniformed servants. Heavy drinking on these occasions was not uncommon. (Inevitably, film buffs will recall The Ale & Quail Club from Preston Sturges’ classic comedy The Palm Beach Story, but DFZ and his pals were not cute old character actors, and their bullets were quite real.) Members of Zanuck’s studio entourage were given to understand that participation in these outings was de rigueur if they valued their positions, and expected desirable assignments in the future. Director Michael Curtiz, who had no fondness for hunting, remembered the trips with distaste, and recalled that on one occasion he was nearly shot by a casting director who had no idea how to properly handle a gun.

But ducks were just the beginning. In 1927 Zanuck took his wife Virginia on an African safari. In Kenya Darryl bagged a rhinoceros and posed for a photo with his wife, crouched beside the rhino’s carcass. Virginia, an erstwhile Mack Sennett bathing beauty and former leading lady to Buster Keaton, appears shaken. Her husband looks exhilarated. During this safari Zanuck also killed an elephant. He kept the animal’s four feet in his office on the Warners lot, and used them as ashtrays. If any animal lover dared to express dismay, the Hollywood sportsman would retort: “It was him or me, wasn’t it?” Zanuck made several forays to Canada with his coterie in this period, gunning for grizzly bears. Director William “Wild Bill” Wellman, who was more of an outdoorsman than Curtiz, once went along, but soon became irritated with Zanuck’s bullying. The two men got into a drunken fistfight the night before the hunting had even begun. In the course of the ensuing trip the hunting party was snowbound for three days; Zanuck sprained his ankle while trailing a grizzly; the horse carrying medical supplies vanished; and Wellman got food poisoning. “It was the damnedest trip I’ve ever seen,” the director said later, “but Zanuck loved it.”

Now that Zanuck had severed his ties with the Warner clan and was on the verge of a new professional adventure, a trip to Canada with a few trusted associates would be just the ticket. This time the destination would be a hunting ground on the banks of the Canoe River, a tributary of the Columbia River, 102 miles north of Revelstoke, British Columbia, a city about 400 miles east of Vancouver. There, in a remote scenic area far from any paved roads, telephones, or other niceties of modern life, the men could discuss Zanuck’s new production company and, presumably, their own potential roles in it. Present on the expedition were screenwriter Sam Engel, director Ray Enright, 42nd Street director Lloyd Bacon, producer (and former silent film comedian) Raymond Griffith, and director John G. Adolfi, best known at the time for his work with English actor George Arliss. Adolfi, who was around 50 years old and seemingly in good health, would not return.

II. The Director

Even dedicated film buffs may draw a blank when the name John Adolfi is mentioned. Although he directed more than eighty films over a twenty-year period beginning in 1913, most of those films are now lost. He worked in every genre, with top stars, and made a successful transition from silent cinema to talkies. He seems to have been a well-respected but self-effacing man, seldom profiled in the press.

According to his tombstone Adolfi was born in New York City in 1881, but the exact date of his birth is one of several mysteries about his life. His father, Gustav Adolfi, was a popular stage comedian and singer who emigrated to the U.S. from Germany in 1879. Gustav performed primarily in New York and Philadelphia, and was known for such roles as Frosch the Jailer in Strauss’ Die Fledermaus. But he was a troubled man, said to be a compulsive gambler, and after his wife Jennie died (possibly of scarlet fever) it appears his life fell apart. Gustav’s singing voice gave out, and then he died suddenly in Philadelphia in October 1890, leaving John and his siblings orphaned. (An obituary in the Philadelphia Jewish Exponent reported that Gustav suffered a stroke, but family legend suggests he may have committed suicide.) After a difficult period John followed in his father’s footsteps and launched a stage career, and was soon working opposite such luminaries of the day as Ethel Barrymore and Dustin Farnum. Early in the new century the young actor wed Pennsylvania native Florence Crawford; the marriage would last until his death.

When the cinema was still in its infancy stage performers tended to regard movie work as slumming, but for whatever reason John Adolfi took the plunge. He made his debut before the cameras around 1907, probably at the Vitagraph Studio in Brooklyn. There he appeared as Tybalt in J. Stuart Blackton’s 1908 Romeo and Juliet , with Paul Panzer and Florence Lawrence in the title roles. He worked at the Edison Studio for director Edwin S. Porter, and at Biograph in a 1908 short called The Kentuckian which also featured two other stage veterans, D.W. Griffith and Mack Sennett. Most of Adolfi’s work as a screen actor was for the Éclair Studio in Fort Lee, New Jersey, the first film capital. The bulk of this company’s output was destroyed in a vault fire, but a 1912 adaptation of Robin Hood in which Adolfi appeared survives. That same year he also appeared in a famous docu-drama, as we would call it, Saved from the Titanic. This ten-minute short premiered less than a month after the Titanic disaster, and featured actress Dorothy Gibson, who actually survived the voyage, re-enacting her experience while wearing the same clothes she wore in the lifeboat. (This film, unfortunately, is among the missing.) After appearing in dozens of movies Adolfi moved behind the camera.

Much of his early work as a director was for a Los Angeles-based studio called Majestic, where he made crime dramas, Westerns, and comedies, films with titles like Texas Bill’s Last Ride and The Stolen Radium. In 1914 the company had a new supervisor: D. W. Griffith, now the top director in the business, who had just departed Biograph. Adolfi was one of the few Majestic staff directors who kept his job under the new regime. A profile in the February 1915 issue of Photoplay describes him as “a tallish, good-looking man, well-knit and vigorous, dark-haired and determined; his mouth and chin suggest that their owner expects (and intends) to have his own way unless he is convinced that the other fellow’s is better.” It was also reported that Adolfi had developed something of a following as an actor, but that he dropped out of the public eye when he became a director. Presumably, that’s what he wanted.

Adolfi left Majestic after three years, worked at Fox Films for a time as a staff director, then freelanced. During the remainder of the silent era he guided some of the screen’s legendary leading ladies: Annette Kellerman (Queen of the Sea, 1918), Marion Davies (The Burden of Proof, 1918), Mae Marsh (The Little ‘Fraid Lady, 1920), Betty Blythe (The Darling of the Rich, 1922), and Clara Bow (The Scarlet West, 1925). Not one of these films survives. A profile published in the New York World-Telegram during his stint at Fox reported that Adolfi was well-liked by his employees. He was “reticent when the conversation turned toward himself, but frank and outspoken when it concerned his work. Mr. Adolfi is not only a director who is skilled in the technique of his craft; he is also a deep student of human nature.” Asked how he felt about the cinema’s potential, he replied, with unconscious irony, “it is bound to live forever.”

III. The Talkies

In spring of 1927 Adolfi was offered a job at Warner Brothers. His debut feature for the studio What Happened to Father? (now lost) was a success, or enough of one anyway to secure him a professional foothold, and he worked primarily at WB thereafter. Thus he was fortuitously well-positioned for the talkie revolution, for although talking pictures were not invented at the studio it was Sam Warner and his brothers, more than anyone else, who sold an initially skeptical public on the new medium. After Adolfi had proven himself with three talkie features Darryl Zanuck handed him an expensive, prestige assignment, a lavish all-star revue entitled The Show of Shows which featured every Warners star from John Barrymore to Rin-Tin-Tin.

Other important assignments followed. In March of 1930 a crime melodrama called Penny Arcade opened on Broadway. It was not a success, but when Al Jolson saw it he sensed that the story had screen potential. He purchased the film rights at a bargain rate and then re-sold the property to his home studio, Warner Brothers. Adolfi was chosen to direct, but was doubtless surprised to learn that Jolson had insisted that two of the actors from the Broadway production repeat their performances before the cameras. One of the pair, Joan Blondell, had already appeared in three Vitaphone shorts to good effect, but the other, James Cagney, had never acted in a movie. Any doubts about Jolson’s instincts were quickly dispelled. Rushes of the first scenes featuring the newcomers so impressed studio brass that both were signed to five-year contracts. While Adolfi can’t be credited with discovering the duo, the film itself, re-christened Sinners’ Holiday,remains his strongest surviving claim to fame: he guided Jimmy Cagney’s screen debut.

At this point the director formed a professional relationship that would shape the rest of his career. George Arliss was a veteran stage actor who went into the movies and unexpectedly became a top box office draw. He was, frankly, an unlikely candidate for screen stardom. Already past sixty when talkies arrived, Arliss was a short, dignified man who resembled a benevolent gargoyle. But he was also a journeyman actor, a seasoned professional who knew how to command attention with a sudden sharp word or a raised eyebrow. Like Helen Hayes he was valued in Hollywood as a performer of unblemished reputation who lent the raffish film industry a touch of Class, in every sense of the word.

In 1929 Arliss appeared in a talkie version of Disraeli, a role he had played many times on stage, and became the first Englishman to take home an Academy Award for Best Actor. Thereafter he was known for stately portrayals of History’s Great Men, such as Voltaire and Alexander Hamilton, as well as fictional kings, cardinals, and other official personages. The old gentleman formed a close alliance with Darryl Zanuck, whom he admired, and was in turn granted privileges highly unusual for any actor at the time. Arliss had final approval of his scripts and authority over casting. He was also granted the right to rehearse his selected actors for two weeks before filming began. All that was left for the film’s director to do, it would seem, would be to faithfully record what his star wanted. Not many directors would accept this arrangement, but John Adolfi, who according to Photoplay “was determined to have his own way unless he is convinced that the other fellow’s is better,” clearly had no problem with it. His first film with Arliss was The Millionaire, released in May 1931; and in the two years that followed Adolfi directed eight more features, six of which were Arliss vehicles. He had found his niche in Hollywood.

One of Adolfi’s last jobs sans Arliss was a B-picture called Central Park, which reunited the director with Joan Blondell. It’s a snappy, topical, crazy quilt of a movie that packs a lot of incident into a 58-minute running time. Central Park was something of a sleeper that earned its director positive critical notices, and must have afforded him a lively holiday from those polite period pieces for the exacting Mr. Arliss.

In spring of 1933, after completing work on the Arliss vehicle Voltaire, Adolfi accompanied Darryl Zanuck and his entourage to British Columbia to hunt bears. Arliss intended to follow Zanuck to his new company, while Adolfi in turn surely expected to follow the star and continue their collaboration. Things didn’t work out that way.

IV. The Hunting Trip

It’s unclear how long the men were hunting before tragedy struck. On Sunday, May 14th, newspapers reported that film director John G. Adolfi had died the previous week – either on Wednesday or Thursday, depending on which paper one consults – at a hunting camp near the Canoe River. All accounts give the cause of death as a cerebral hemorrhage. According to the New York Herald-Tribune the news was conveyed in a long-distance phone call from Darryl Zanuck to screenwriter Lucien Hubbard in Los Angeles. Hubbard subsequently informed the press. The N.Y. Times reported that the entire hunting party (Zanuck, Engel, Enright, Bacon, and Griffith) accompanied Adolfi’s remains in a motorboat down the Columbia River to Revelstoke. From there the body was sent to Vancouver, B.C., where it was cremated. Write-ups of Adolfi’s career were brief, and tended to emphasize his work with George Arliss, though his recent success Central Park was widely noted. John’s widow Florence was mentioned in the Philadelphia City News obituary but otherwise seems to have been ignored; the couple had no children.

V. The Aftermath

Darryl F. Zanuck went on to found Twentieth Century Pictures, a name suggested by his hunting companion Sam Engel. One of the company’s biggest hits in its first year of operation was The House of Rothschild, starring George Arliss and directed by Alfred Werker. The venerable actor returned to England not long afterwards and retired from filmmaking in 1937. In his second book of memoirs, published three years later, Arliss devotes several pages of warm praise to Zanuck, but refers only fleetingly to the man who directed seven of his films, John Adolfi, and misspells his name.

In 1935 Zanuck merged his Twentieth Century Pictures with Fox Films, and created one of the most successful companies in Hollywood history. He would go on to produce many award-winning classics, including The Grapes of Wrath, Laura, and All About Eve. Zanuck’s trusted associates at Twentieth-Century Fox in the company’s best years included Sam Engel, Raymond Griffith, and Lloyd Bacon, all survivors of the Revelstoke trip. Personal difficulties and vast changes in the film industry began to affect Zanuck’s career in the 1950s. He left the U.S. for Europe but continued to make films, and sporadically managed to exercise control over the company he founded. He died in 1979.

In 1984 a onetime screenwriter and film critic named Leonard Mosley, who had known Zanuck slightly, published a biography entitled Zanuck: The Rise and Fall of Hollywood’s Last Tycoon. Aside from his movie reviews most of Mosley’s published work concerned military matters, specifically pertaining to the Second War World. His Zanuck bio reveals a grasp of film history that is shaky at times, for the book has a number of obvious errors. Nevertheless, it was written with the cooperation of Darryl’s son Richard, his widow Virginia, and many of the mogul’s close associates, so whatever its errors in chronology or studio data the anecdotes concerning Zanuck’s personal and professional activities are unquestionably well-sourced.

When Mosley’s narrative reaches May 1933, the point when Zanuck is on the verge of founding his new company, we’re told that he and several associates decided to go on a hunting trip to Alaska. The location is not correct, but chronologically – and in one other, unmistakable respect – there can be no doubt that this refers to the Revelstoke trip. From Mosley’s book:

“There is a mystery about this trip, and no perusal of Zanuck’s papers or those of his former associates seems to elucidate it,” he writes. “Something happened that changed his whole attitude towards hunting. All that can be gathered from the thin stories that are still gossiped around was that the hunting party went on the track of a polar bear somewhere in the Alaskan wilderness [sic], and when the vital moment came it was Zanuck who stepped out to shoot down the charging, furious animal. His bullet, it is said, found its mark all right, but it did not kill. The polar bear came on, and Zanuck stood his ground, pumping away with his rifle. Only this time it was not ‘him or me,’ but ‘him’ and someone else. The wounded and enraged bear, still alive and still charging, swerved around Zanuck and swiped with his great paw at one of the men standing behind him – and only after it had killed this other man did it fall at last into the snow, and die itself. That’s the story, and no one seems to be able to confirm it nor remember the name of the man who died. The only certain thing is that when Zanuck came back, he announced to Virginia that he had given up hunting. And he never went out and shot a wild animal again, not even a jackrabbit for his supper.”

VI. The Coda

Was John Adolfi killed by a bear? It certainly seems possible, but if so, why didn’t the men in the hunting party simply report the truth? Even if their boss was indirectly responsible, having fired the shots that caused the bear to charge, he couldn’t be blamed for the actions of a dying animal. But it’s also possible the event unfolded like a recent tragedy on the Montana-Idaho border. There, in September 2011, two men named Ty Bell and Steve Stevenson were on a hunting trip. Bell shot what he believed was a black bear. When the bear, a grizzly, attacked Stevenson, Bell fired again – and killed both the bear and his friend.

That seems to be the more likely scenario. If Zanuck fired at the wounded bear, in an attempt to save Adolfi, and killed both bear and man instead, it would perhaps explain a hastily contrived false story. It would most definitely explain the prompt cremation of Adolfi’s body in Vancouver. Back in Hollywood Joe Schenck was busy raising money, and lots of it, to launch Zanuck’s new company. Any unpleasant information about the new company’s chief – certainly anything suggestive of manslaughter – could jeopardize the deal. A man hit with a cerebral hemorrhage in the prime of life is a tragedy of natural causes, but a man sprayed with bullets in a shooting, accidental or not, is something else again. That goes double if alcohol was involved, as it reportedly was on Zanuck’s earlier hunting trips.

Of course, it’s also possible that Adolfi did indeed suffer a cerebral hemorrhage. Like his father.

John G. Adolfi is a Hollywood ghost. Most of his works are lost, and his name is forgotten. (Even George Arliss couldn’t be bothered to spell it correctly.) Every now and then TCM will program one of the Arliss vehicles, or Sinners’ Holiday. Not long ago they showed Adolfi’s fascinating B-picture Central Park, that slam-bang souvenir of the early Depression years in which several plot strands are deftly inter-twined. One of the subplots involves a mentally ill man, a former zoo-keeper who escapes from an asylum and returns to the place where he used to work, the Central Park Zoo. He has a score to settle with an old nemesis, an ex-colleague who tends the big cats. As the story approaches its climax, the escaped lunatic deliberately drags his enemy into the cage of a dangerous lion and leaves him there. In the subsequent, harrowing scene, difficult to watch, the lion attacks and practically kills the poor bastard.

by William Charles Morrow

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My sources for this article, in addition to the Mosley biography cited in the text, include Stephen M. Silverman’s The Fox That Got Away: The Last Days of the Zanuck Dynasty at Twentieth-Century Fox (1988), and Marlys J. Harris’s The Zanucks of Hollywood: The Dark Legacy of an American Dynasty (1989). For material on John Adolfi I made extensive use of the files of the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts. Special thanks to James Bigwood for his prodigious research on the Adolfi family genealogy, and to Mary Maler, John Adolfi’s great-niece, for information she provided on her family.

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