#which is why some are goofing around and the others are posing for the camera

[missescalientee]

Wanted to draw a bunch of troll OC's and decided to do something I like to call Oc roulette, where I find and then draw a few at mostly random (I've wanted to draw some of them already hehe) from left to right the creators of these OC's are:

@/Podkidysh10 (you can find their art on insta!)

@funktrolls

@leahlozers-blog

@sunberies

@spooky-pop

@v-poreons

@/az.althea01 (you can find their art on insta!!)

@jennjamindraws

Hope I did em justice for ya!!

Little guys on their own:

[natsbaby]

The OF Neighbor [18+]

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: you just moved into your new apartment, which is exciting! Tho you’re not sure what to feel when you look out of the window to see your super hot neighbor taking pics for her only fans

Warnings: sexual themes due to the only fans nature, teasing but doesn’t lead to the dirty

A/N: Surprise! Apparently i have a drafted story all ready for posting so I hope you guys like this one! lol im sorry if this is bad ☠️

🚨🚨PLEASE DONT READ UNLESS YOU’RE 18 AND ABOVE 🚨🚨 thank you! <3

You bring in the last of your boxes, huffing and puffing in exhaustion as you finally close the door behind you. Putting down the box, you stand back up and lean back against the door, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the palm of your hand. After months of negotiations and dying over airline fees for your things, you finally glance around your new apartment, the next step to following your dreams in joining the entertainment industry.

As a fresh graduate, finding apartments was genuine hell so thankfully you found this apartment complex with the help of your friend who lives in the same building as well– just a few doors down your floor. It has everything you need too such as a 5 minute walk to the nearest train station, a lot of stores nearby for food and general supplies for a really decent price too.

The general layout of the building is kind of in a U shape where you can technically see into your neighbors rooms if you get a good enough angle, and that’s why the first thing you’ll do is install your new blinds.

“Okay let’s do this” you say to yourself as you hype yourself up. You go to your boxes, taking out the things you need to get to work.

As you get to work, drilling some new holes to install the curtain rod to, you couldn’t help but stop a few times just to look out of the window and admire your absolutely gorgeous view. You could see the New York skyline from where you’re at considering you’re at the 25th floor. You sigh dreamily as you rest your elbow onto the windowsill, placing your chin to the palm of your hand.

You look to the left to see your neighbor’s dog goofing around at the caged off balcony. You then look to the right to see your other neighbor relaxing on their couch while reading a book. And finally, you look up to see your neighbor posing for pictures in a gorgeous black lace lingerie.

You didn’t notice at first, until a solid 5 seconds later when your brain finally processed what you just saw because you did a double take to see her leaning forward to rest her hands onto the window while looking back at her camera. Your jaw drops before you could even stop yourself.

“Holy shit” you mumble in shock as you feel yourself blush while admiring the beauty of your red head neighbor. As she moves around to find better angles, she finally shows more of her face so you could get a better look and my god is she gorgeous.

Her forest green eyes just piercing through your heart, her dark red lip enhancing her natural makeup look. Her red hair curled to perfection as it frames her face in a way that makes her look deviously innocent. Your eyes trail down to take in her lingerie that just pushes her breasts up together with a deep V. The lingerie itself is almost like a bikini but she’s wearing a sheer robe over it that has feathers at the trimming to make her look more goddess-like.

You feel a drop on your hand, looking down to see a forming puddle of your drool. You quickly grab some tissues to wipe it away from besides you but the moment you look back, she’s gone.

You rub your eyes frantically and look back to see that she’s really not there. You sigh sadly, thinking it was all just a dream as the curtains are drawn back, shielding whatever was inside from the world.

“Damn I think I need a girlfriend if I just keep hallucinating or something” you chuckle to yourself as you get back to work.

“Why would you look at that!” Your best friend, Clint, says as he looks around your place in awe.

It’s been a few days since you first moved in, a few days since you saw your hot ghost-neighbor maybe, and you managed to put everything in place to your liking.

You chuckle at your friend, grabbing 2 bottles of beer from your fridge. “Thanks, I don’t have much stuff yet but it’s enough to get me going as I collect more things as the days pass”

You open the bottles with a bottle opener, walking up to the older man as you hand it to him. He takes it, raising the bottle up slightly.

“To your new found independence” he says, making you smile as you raise your bottle and clicking it against his. “To my new found independence”

You take a sip of your beer as Clint chugs his. Walking up to your window, you open the blinds as you lean forward to rest your arms on the windowsill. Clint follows your actions, sipping his beer as he watches the New York skyline.

“Met any of the neighbors yet?” He asks without looking at you. You shake your head no as you take another sip of yours.

“Haven’t had the chance yet, though I did see the dog over there” you point to the left where the dog of your neighbor playing with its toy once again. “That’s really cute”

Clint chuckles at your observation. “What about the neighbor from there?”

You watch as he points his finger to the upper right where your “ghost-neighbor” is. Your eyes widen a little as you remember her little show.

“Okay okay wait” you start as you stare at her window. “So there really is a red head living there?”

“So you did see her already” Clint says, smirking slightly. “Remember the girl I told you before you came here, the one I plan to introduce you to?”

“Oh the-“ you stop yourself as you finally understand what Clint is trying to say, your mouth forming an ‘O’ as you look at him as if you discovered something epic for the first time.

He laughs at your reaction, grabbing your beer bottle from your hand to place both of your bottles at the side table. “Come, it’s time to meet her”

“Oh my god Clint I-“ before you could do anything, he grabs your wrist and drags you out of your apartment.

“I can’t believe this is happening” you mutter under your breathe as you both walk up to the woman’s apartment door, who Clint just told you that her name is Natasha or Nat for short.

“Come on, you need more friends other than me! Who will you hang out with when I’m not around?” He asks while turning around, walking backwards so he could talk to you while walking.

“A dog or cat I plan to adopt?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“You need more friends and I’m here to help!” He says cheerfully as he stops.

“Alright, we’re here” he says as he turns to face the door, knocking on it. You both here a faint ‘coming!’ making your heart rate skyrocket.

Sadly in this exact moment, you realized that when you first saw Nat by the window, you were probably staring for a good 10 minutes. Your face falls in complete dread as you realize that you’re not sure if Nat saw you stare or not.

“Oh god Clint this is probably not a good idea” you mumble loud enough for him to hear and hopefully soft enough that she didn’t hear you as you take a step back.

Before Clint could reply, the door opens to reveal a literal goddess. Even though Nat’s just wearing a hoodie and leggings, her lounge outfit just makes you fall madly in love with her. She looks so normal compared to the lingerie you saw her wear a few days prior but this just makes her look drop dead gorgeous.

“Hey Tash!” Clint greets the redhead with a grin. “Sorry to disturb, just wanted to introduce you to a friend I told you about! Nat, this is Y/N. Y/N, meet Natasha or Nat!”

You gulp deeply as your hands start to sweat. “H-hello”

Nat looks at you up and down before meeting your eyes again with a slight smirk on her lips. “Right, the new neighbor. Nice to meet you”

You feel your heart beat against your chest rapidly as you feel like you wanna puke your guts out with the nerves. You realize in that moment that you don’t even know this person yet she makes you feel things that you’ve never felt for anyone specific.

You wave back in response as Clint chuckles at your shy nature. “Sorry about her, she does tend to get shy with meeting new people”

“Oh really?” She asks, intrigued as she crosses her arms over her chest making her breasts press together slightly making your eyes glance at them quickly before looking back at her. Normally, no one would notice but this is Nat so obviously she did. She smirks very slightly, running a hand through her hair. “Well, it’s really nice to meet the infamous Y/N Y/L/N Clint has talked about so many times”

Before Clint could pipe up another joke, his phone rings making him look at it really quickly. His eyes widens slightly as he reads it. “Oh shoot sorry girls, I think I gotta dash. Laura has family problems right now and needs me”

“Don’t worry about it” you say with a smile, internally relieved that you can finally go in one piece. “I had fun anyway and it’s really nice to meet you Nat”

“Awww” Nat cooes slightly with a sad tone, pouting a little. “I can keep you company first while Clint sorts out whatever Laura has. Give her my regards”

“You’re the best Nat” he says with a grin, running off to the elevators. He steps in, waving at the two of you.

“Don’t murder her Nat! I still need her!” He calls out as the door closes making the both of you laugh at him.

“Please, come in”

Holy shit doesn’t even begin to describe what you’ve gotten yourself into.

You’re now sitting at Nat’s probably super expensive because of how soft and how nice it is couch, sipping on the coffee she made from her really expensive looking keurig machine with her equally probably as expensive coffee mugs. You look around to take in her apartment.

Supposedly it’s the same layout as yours since all then rooms are supposedly the same except for the variation of windows and balconies. While you have a rather wide window, Nat has a roof-to-ceiling window. Her black black-out curtains accentuates the black and red theme of the room making you sweat slightly with nerves that you might break something and would take years to pay back.

Her furniture has that formal but homey look that can look right out of a showroom. Her wide screen tv installed onto the wall with a small cubby under it for her electronics and her glass coffee tables with table books. You glance to the wall where there’s a lot of panels making you think that this apartment is probably a smart apartment. Lastly, you glance at small cactus at the center that completely looks out of place with a questionable look.

“That’s from Clint” you jump slightly in shock as Nat chuckles, sitting besides you on the couch. “He said my apartment looked too business-y and said the cactus would liven up the place”

“I-its really cute though” you stutter as you put the mug down on the coffee table.

“You think so?” She asks innocently as she cocks her head to side. You nod in agreement with a shy smile.

“You have really good taste, this place looks amazing compared to mine” you say, admiring the interior. You snap out of it as you feel a hand on your thigh, quickly looking at the red head with wide eyes.

“You know..” she starts as she softly trace random shapes on your thigh. “When Clint told me about his childhood friend moving to the complex, I didn’t expect that it was you”

You gulp deeply as you try to calm your racing heart. “R-r-really?”

She hums in agreement as she traces a little higher. “You’re the one just 3 floors down, right? The one at the B complex?”

Now at this point, this can go 2 ways. Either you’re gonna have the best sex of your life, or you’re about to be called a pervert so you’re really, REALLY, hoping it’s the first.

You feel a chill running down your spine as she traces the lace trimming of your dress as your mind short circuits. You slowly nod, not trusting your voice right now.

She smirks at the effect she has on you, gently dipping her finger under your dress as she slowly leans forward. “I saw you, the day you moved in. Poor little thing was so shocked to see her neighbor by her window, huh?”

You feel the heat rush to your face and down south as you grip tightly on the couch cushions. Your eyes widen even more as her face goes right up to yours, her strong light musk-lavender perfume filling your lust-filled senses.

“Poor baby, drooling all over herself when you saw my breasts press up against the window? I thought it would be a nice touch for you” she cooes in a condescending manner, her supposed pity not matching whats showing in her eyes. Her smirk widens as she sees you gulp again while squeezing your thighs together.

“Don’t worry” she says as she leans forward to your ear. “I don’t mind if its you”

She whispers as she presses her lips on the spot behind your ear making you whimper quietly. She pulls back all together, smiling as if nothing happened even though her eyes say the exact opposite.

“Clint told me that he wouldn’t be back anytime soon and I don’t want to keep you any longer, it’s nice to meet you Y/N”

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part Three (Harry Styles)

a/n: part 3 wohoo! thank you so much for all the love you’ve been showing the series, it keeps me going and writing more and more! originally i thought it would turn out to be about three parts, but it has outgrown that limit so i added two more parts to the masterpost, that’s for sure is gonna happen but i might even add more?! not sure, im still in the writing process so i can’t tell how long it’s going to turn out to be, but this just means even more content for you guys!

as always, feedback is very much appreciated, please make sure to share your thoughts and comments on the part, it’s such a huge boost for writers to read what you thought!!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

When you were working at the daycare you couldn’t focus on photography as much as you would have liked to. You often had to stay in for extra hours, wait until the last kid was picked up and then do paperwork, or change the decoration in your room or whatever Clair asked you to do that day. By the time you got home you just wanted to take a bath and fall into bed. You also had to travel 40 minutes to work which took away a lot of time from your day.

Working for Harry helped you immensely with focusing more on your passion. Even on his worse days he got home by six and since your workplace is your home, you don’t even have to drive forty minutes to enjoy the comfort of your home, you just walk up the stairs to your room and that’s it.

In addition, taking care of Izzy, you still have the chance to work on some editing or snap new pictures. You have time off when she has her classes and when you put her down for her nap. The best thing is that Izzy is quite interested in photography, she gets very interested whenever she sees you bring out one of your cameras and she always lets you take pictures of her, posing and goofing around. The folder on your computer that has her name is growing each day with more and more sweet photos of the little girl that has completely stolen your heart. You’ve been regularly getting your favorites shots of her printed and you always leave them on Harry’s desk so when he gets home he sees them and they make him forget about whatever happened at work that day.

You are getting more and more emails about possible sessions and slowly but surely, your weekends start to fill up with weddings, birthday parties and engagement photoshoots. It seems like you have definitely made the right choice when you took this job. No doubts.

“Can I ask a question, daddy?” Izzy is poking the peas around on her plate as the four of you sit at the dining table at dinner. Ruth has joined you today, because Harry had to make a quick trip to his office in the afternoon and you were out shopping with Trevor today.

“Sure, baby,” Harry hums nodding.

“Why don’t you eat meat?” she asks seriously, eyeing her own plate that has some chicken on it, while Harry’s is only stacked with veggies and potatoes.

“Because I decided that I won’t want to.”

“Can I decide that too?”

“You’re a little too young for that, baby. You need the meat to grow big. When you’re older you can think about what kind of things you want to and don’t want to eat.”

“Okay,” she nods without throwing a tantrum about her dad telling her no. You know quite a few kids who would have flipped over it, but not Izzy. Harry might not even realize how good of a job he is doing raising her and teaching her how to be a good human.

“I have another question,” she announces, glancing up at Harry.

“Go ahead.”

“If you don’t eat meat, does that make you an herbivore?”

You can’t push down a chuckle, you were not expecting this. Your eyes meet Ruth’s over the table, she is enjoying this conversation just as much as you do. It’s cute how Izzy put two and two together and made a seemingly logical conclusion.

“We learned about herbivore dinosaurs this week,” you inform Harry, who is a little lost about why his daughter just called him an herbivore. Also, you’re quite impressed that she remembered the word, though she struggled with it at first, but it seems like it finally stuck.

Harry shakes his head chuckling as he sets his fork down, looking over at Izzy.

“In a way I should be called an herbivore, but that’s not what you call people who don’t eat meat. I’m a vegetarian.”

“Oh, okay,” she nods, wrapping up the information in her head as she keeps eating.

You and Ruth clean up after dinner while Harry gives Izzy a bath, a little earlier than usually, because she spilled apple juice on herself, so he decided to just go straight for the bath instead of changing once more before bedtime.

“Will you be fine with putting these away, Darling?” Ruth asks as you’re drying the last few dishes.

“Sure! I’ll take care of it,” you smile back at her as she nods and heads into the living room.

Harry emerges from upstairs with a freshly cleaned Izzy on his arms. As soon as her little feet touch the floor she bolts over to join Ruth in front of the TV while Harry walks into the kitchen just as you put the last dish away.

“Hey, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts and suddenly, you feel your stomach drop, especially because his face seems very serious.

“Oh God, what did I do?” you ask, feeling yourself panicking already.

“Nothing! It’s not like that!” he chuckles softly, realizing you kind of misunderstood the situation.

“Okay, good. Sorry, you just looked so serious.”

“Sorry, I was just… thinking. So two friends of mine that I work together with also are getting married soon. They had a photographer booked already, but the guy cancelled on them and, um, I hope you don’t mind, but I recommended you to them.”

“Really?” you ask in complete surprise.

“Yeah. Actually, they saw a picture of Izzy that you took in my office and we started talking about how you do photoshoots in your free time and then I told them to ask if you’d be up to do their wedding as well.”

“Wow, that’s really nice of you, Harry. Thank you!”

“I gave them your number, they’ll probably call you sometime next week or so.”

“Great!” you beam, excited about the new event you can work at. “I hope they’ll want to work with me.”

“I kind of hyped you up for them and they seemed very pleased with the pictures I showed them, so I’m sure they will want to,” Harry chuckles softly, even blushing a little. It always amazes you how a tall, muscular guy with so many tattoos can be such a soft, caring and loving person. It always reminds you not to judge the book by its cover.

“Thank you, Harry. This means a lot to me.” Reaching over you place your hand on his arm and give it a gentle squeeze before moving past him to join Ruth and Izzy in the living room.

Harry was right about Sarah and Mitch being all excited to get in contact with you, because they don’t even wait for the next week to reach out. Sunday afternoon you are working on some more editing at the dining table while Harry and Izzy are painting on the other end of the table, busy with their masterpieces when your phone starts ringing, an unknown number shown on the screen.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you answer it, leaning back in your seat.

“Y/N, hi! My name is Sarah Jones, I hope I’m not calling at a bad time, Harry gave me your number this week.”

“Oh! Sarah, yeah! So nice to talk to you!” you beam and Harry’s eyes snap up to you at the mentioning of the familiar name. “Harry mentioned you’d reach out and don’t worry, I’m happy to chat.”

“That’s great. I wanted to wait until Monday, but truth is that we are kind of in a short of time and I was afraid you’d be already busy for our date, so I wanted to call you as soon as possible.”

“No worries.”

“So first and foremost, I’m gonna ask if you have anything planned on the last weekend of May. I know it’s just in a few weeks, but I really hope we can work it out.”

“Let me pull up my calendar,” you tell her as you open up the app on your computer that you use to keep track with your sessions and events. Finding the weekend in question in it, you smile at the empty space. “Good news, seems like I’m free that weekend.”

“Oh thank God!” she breathes out in relief and you let out a chuckle. “That’s so amazing. So then would it be possible to meet up sometime next week? You could show some more works of yours and we can discuss more details, how does that sound?”

“This week? Well I have to work—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“Come into the office tomorrow morning.” “What?”

“Put her on speaker,” he smiles nodding towards your phone and you do as he asked, setting it to the table with Sarah on speaker. “Hey Sarah!”

“Harry, hi!”

“Aunt Sarah?” Izzy’s ears perk up, some pink paint on her cheeks that you have no idea how it got there, because her painting doesn’t even have any pink in it.

“Hi Izzy! So good to hear your voice!” she chuckles through the phone.

“Sarah, you’re gonna be at the studio Monday morning, right?” Harry asks and you can’t not notice how his voice changed the slightest bit as soon as he started talking about business.

“Yeah and Mitch is coming too,” she confirms.

“Okay then how about you come in tomorrow morning, Y/N?”

“But what about Izzy?”

“She can come too. I’ll look after her while you discuss the details, it’s no big deal. It’s been a while since the last time she came to work with me,” he smirks over at the little girl, who is already excited to spend some more time with her daddy at his workplace.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Absolutely,” he nods smiling.

“Thank you, well then I’m okay with tomorrow if it’s fine for you as well, Sarah.”

“That would be perfect! Thank you guys both, Mitch and I really appreciate it.”

“No worries,” Harry nods, going back to his painting. You take Sarah off the phone as you say your goodbye before ending the call.

You start Monday off with some extra excitement. Not just because you are about to get booked for another event, but also because it’s going to be the first time you see Harry at his workplace. He has been quite good at keeping his business separated from his private life, it never really happens that you catch him dwell about anything work related whenever he is home and around Izzy. The phone call with Sarah was like a tiny glimpse of what he might be like when he is in work mode and you’re kind of curious to see more of this side of him.

Just as usual, Harry takes care of Izzy in the morning while you get ready on your own. You want to look good, not only are you going to meet more of his friends, but people he works with. Or should you say, people who work for him.

You choose a light pink dress, throwing a white knitted sweater over your shoulders with a pair of ballerinas. After putting on some light makeup and grabbing your purse and laptop you head downstairs to grab a quick breakfast. Izzy is already sitting at the table, still in her pajamas since her and food are a dangerous combination and Harry always makes sure to get her dressed once she is away from all of that.

“You look so pretty, Y/N!” she beams, her legs dangling from the chair as she digs into her oatmeal. Harry appears from the kitchen and he has the same look on his face like when he saw you leave for that wedding a while ago. A blush paints his cheeks as he slows his steps down, his eyes running down on the length of your body before they return to your face.

“Izzy is right, you look… really pretty, Y/N,” he compliments into your face, unlike last time when you only heard him call you pretty when he thought you were long gone.

“Thank you,” you breathe out with a soft chuckle.

The morning carries on as usual, Harry dresses Izzy for the day and then you all head out, however you stop short upon seeing the various cars parked on the driveway and the double garage.

“Maybe take the Rover, it’s got the child seat in it and I’ll take the Jaguar today,” Harry suggests as he hands you over the keys to the Rover and then nears the car he is taking for the day.

“Oh yeah, you just take the Jaguar, boss,” you chuckle under your breath, finding it a little funny that deciding on which car you’re taking for the day is even a question in someone else’s life.

Izzy sings along the radio as you follow Harry’s car into the label’s building. Of course, it’s not just some simple office building, it’s situated in the riches area of the city and the building is massive with loads of floors and a huge HES Records sign above the entrance where you meet Harry after parking down.

“Good morning, Mr. Styles! Hello, Izzy!” the woman behind the front desk smiles widely immediately, standing up from her chair to hand Harry a stack of envelopes. “Your post, sir.”

“Thank you, Veronica. Have a nice day,” Harry nods in her way as the three of you move through the hall to the elevators. Waiting for it to arrive, you glance at the board on the wall that lists everything you can find in the building and the level you should look for it at. There are endless amount of studios, at least three on each levels, offices, creative rooms and conference rooms. It’s pretty clear that HES Records manages a lot of talents and that requires a lot of space.

Arriving to the twentieth floor, which is of course the top of the building, you are in awe as you realize that the whole floor is basically Harry’s office. There’s a kind of hall area for his two assistants, he has his own conference room, his kitchen and dining area and of course, his office space. The whole place screams power and influence. The modern design of the interior makes it such a fancy work space not just for him, but for everyone else in the building. It’s truly impressive.

“Wow, Harry. This place is… amazing,” you breathe out as he walks the two of you into the conference room where Izzy immediately climbs up to one of the chairs, standing up so she can lean onto the table. Harry walks behind her and adjusts her so she just sits before she could fall off.

“Thank you. I really like this place too. I always thought it’s important to have a great place to work at,” he smiles, clearly proud of how far his business has come. “There’s a mini fridge over there, feel free to take anything you’d like. Sarah texted me on the way here that they’ll be here shortly.”

“Great, thank you,” you nod, taking a seat next to Izzy as you set your laptop up. The glass door of the room opens and one of the assistants peeks inside.

“Mr. Styles, Mrs. Wonstein is on the phone asking for you.”

“Oh, alright, give me a minute and I’ll take it.” The assistant nods and walks out. “Izzy, come with daddy a little, alright? Let Y/N do her thing.” “She can stay, if you want. I can look after her,” you tell him, but he shakes his head as Izzy climbs off the chair and running over to him, she takes his hand.

“No, just focus on this one. I’ll take care of her, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, Harry,” you smile with gratitude as the two of them walk out, leaving you alone. You start scrolling through your folders, wondering which photos you should show Sarah and Mitch, picking out some of your favorites while you wait for them, though they don’t take too long to arrive. Soon enough the glass door opens and the lovely couple walks in.

“Y/N! Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Sarah greets you, wrapping you in a warm hug before stepping aside.

“Hi, I’m Mitch, nice to meet you,” the groom-to-be smiles shyly as he pulls you in for a short hug as well.

“Good to meet you guys too,” you smile back at them as you all sit to the table.

“Thank you so much for meeting us in such a short notice. Our photographer bailed out on us and I was starting to really worry when Harry mentioned that you are doing this kind of stuff in your free time,” Sarah explains.

“No worries. Would you like to go over some of my previous works?” you offer and they both nod in excitement before you start clicking through some old projects.

They share their vision for the whole wedding and the kind of pictures they would like and you like their approach and feel like it’s right up your alley. They both seem to like what you show them and Sarah compliments on how well you are able to catch small, but important moments.

“The wedding won’t be too big, just friends and family, but we do want a lot of memories, it means a lot to us,” Sarah explains and you nod, noting everything she says.

“Harry said you like this oldschool kind of vibe in your pictures,” Mitch chimes in.

“Oh, yeah. I like to make them look like they weren’t taken on a digital sometimes.”

“Do you think you can make some of those for us as well? Not all of them, just a couple,” Sarah asks.

“Sure! It’s more about the editing process, but it’s totally doable.”

You go over a few more things, making sure you’re on the same page, but you feel like things are working out perfectly. Though you guessed they would be great people, it’s still nice to work with such a nice and professional couple. You’ve had some crazy ones before, they definitely don’t make the job easy on you, but it’s not the case right now.

“Okay, so are you sure the date is okay for you? We wouldn’t want you to cancel on anything you had before just because we are Harry’s friends,” Mitch assures you, but you give them a warm smile.

“I’m totally free, don’t worry. Harry doesn’t have that kind of advantage here,” you chuckle softly.

“Thank you so much in this case. You’re truly a lifesaver,” Sarah breathes out in relief.

“Thank you for the trust. I’m really looking forward to working with you guys!”

Finishing up the meeting you pack up, chatting a little out of the business talk with Sarah and Mitch as you head over to Harry’s office.

“Hey! How did it go?” Harry asks as soon as the three of you walk in. Izzy is sitting at his desk, like a little boss, coloring something as he is sitting on the corner of the desk.

“Amazing, we owe you one for suggesting her,” Sarah sighs and you can’t help but just chuckle at how thankful she really is that you could help them out.

“You owe me no more than just one dance at the wedding,” Harry smiles at her.

“Can I dance too?” Izzy’s head perks up.

“Oh baby, you’re not coming to the wedding. You’ll be staying with Grandma, I already told you.” Izzy pouts at her dad, but she doesn’t seem to mind it that much, she quickly goes back to coloring.

“We’ll dance some other time, okay?” Sarah offers her and she nods happily.

“Can I dance with Uncle Mitch too?” she questions and Mitch just smiles down at her.

“Of course,” he hums, curling an arm around Sarah’s waist. “I have a meeting in ten so I’ll head out, I’m gonna pick James up in the afternoon, alright?” He kisses Sarah’s temple before pulling Harry into a brotherly hug. “Y/N, it was so nice to meet you and thank you for everything again,” he smiles at you, enveloping you in a quick hug as well.

“See you soon,” you smile back before he waves his last goodbye and leaves. “Who’s James?” you ask curiously.

“James is our son. He is turning three this year,” Sarah beams proudly.

“Oh! You two already have a son, that’s great! I’ll make sure to snap a bunch of photos of him too,” you chuckle.

“Please, our house is already packed with pictures, but there’s just never enough,” Sarah laughs.

The three of you chat a little longer while Izzy is busy with her coloring, talking about the wedding and whatnot, Harry invites her and Mitch over for dinner sometime and she happily says yes before business is calling her so she heads out as well.

“Okay, come one, little Sunshine. Let’s get home, Rosaline will be over soon for your piano lesson,” you smile down at Izzy who throws all her coloring stuff into one of Harry’s drawers before hopping off the leather seat.

“I’ll see you in the afternoon, okay?” Harry leans down and kisses the top of her head before pressing his lips to her cheek as well.

“Bye daddy, have a good day!” she calls out, grabbing your hand as you head to the door, Harry following behind.

“Mr. Styles, you have a meeting in five with—“ one of the assistants speaks up, but Harry stops her.

“I know, tell him I’ll be down in a minute. And please call Isaac to remind him about his deadline tomorrow,” he asks in that voice again you heard yesterday when Sarah called. There’s just something so intimidating yet exciting in the way he bosses around, but not like an asshole. He is a man in power, but he surely knows how to use it for the good.

“I forgot to talk to you about the time Izzy is spending at my mum’s, please remind me to go over it with you tonight, alright?” Harry asks and you nod as the elevator’s door opens and the two of you walk in.

“Bye daddy!” Izzy waves at him.

“Bye baby, be good! Bye Y/N!” he smiles as the door starts to close.

“See you later,” you smile back before he disappears from your sight.

The meeting with Sarah and Mitch got you buzzing, because it’s gonna be such an intimate yet beautiful wedding and those are your favorite. You can’t wait to start snapping the pictures and make their memories last forever of their big day.

You want to say thank you to Harry for suggesting you to them, so while Izzy is with Rosaline, you make a quick round to the grocery store and get everything you need to make some cupcakes, knowing well Harry loves those. He once told you that he could easily eat a dozen of those if he had the chance, so you think it’s gonna be the perfect way to thank him.

You keep the usual schedule, but after your little learning session in the afternoon, instead of heading out to the backyard to play, you suggest you bake the cupcakes together and Izzy is more than happy to help you.

It doesn’t take long for the kitchen to turn into a warzone, ingredients spilled to the counter all over the place, some music is playing in the background and you’ve been struggling to figure out how to use the different machines around the super modern kitchen.

You go all out with the decorations, you even bought some food coloring so you can make the cupcakes different colors and mess around with the icing and cream as well. You get so busy with the task on hand that time flies by faster than you expected. The two of you are still working on the decorating when the front door opens and Harry walks into the mess you’ve created in the past hours.

“What is doing on here?” he chuckles, seeing Izzy’s hair covered in flour, whipped cream on her nose and cheeks as she is throwing some sprinkles on one of the cupcakes, sitting on the kitchen island counter while you are finishing up another one.

“Oh! I wanted it to be a surprise!” you pout. “Izzy and I are making you cupcakes!”

“Why do I deserve a surprise?” he asks smirking, walking farther into the kitchen as he looks around, finding the mess quite amusing, rather than annoying. Harry knows well enough that it’s not easy to keep the place around you clean when there are kids involved in any process.

“I wanted to thank you for suggesting me to Sarah and Mitch. It was really nice of you.”

“Already told you it was nothing. Of course I suggest them a good photographer if I know one.”

You just smile at him shrugging, because no matter how hard he is trying to play it down, it meant a lot to you.

“Look daddy!” Izzy holds up her cupcake, half of it is covered with sprinkles, the other half is decorated with chocolate chips and she is clearly proud of it.

“That looks great, baby!” he smiles proudly, kissing the top of her head. “You have so much stuff on you, you could easily turn into a cupcake too,” he jokes, making her laugh.

“Be a cupcake with me, daddy!” Izzy beams and before Harry could stop her, she wipes some whipped cream to his face, getting him dirty as well. You gasp before letting out a laugh, Izzy shrieks happily seeing her dad all dressed up fancily and licking the cream off his face.

“Isabelle Styles, you have no idea what you just brought on yourself,” he warns in a low tone, already making Izzy scoot backwards as she is trying to escape, but she doesn’t have anywhere to go, the kitchen island’s edge is right behind her butt. However, she doesn’t realize it and tries to push herself back some more, deeming herself to fall right off, but before anything could happen Harry scoops her into his arms, pressing his creamy face to her cheek, making an even bigger mess that’s already there. Izzy is moving around, laughing and screaming as Harry gets some more cream to his hands, wiping it onto her anywhere he can.

“Oh my God, you are wasting all the cream!” you call him out, but it’s such a sweet moment to witness, you would never blame him for wasting it.

Harry stops attacking Izzy and turns to you with a dark look in his eyes.

“Izzy, I think Y/N looks too clean, doesn’t she?” he cocks his head to the side, exchanging a look with the girl in his arms.

“She does!” Izzy agrees as you start backing away from them. Harry sets Izzy down to her feet, grabbing the bowl with the remaining of the cream. He gets a handful for himself and lets Izzy fill her palms as well.

“Oh no, don’t you dare!” you warn them, holding up your pointing finger at them, trying to escape, but you are kind of cornered against the counter.

“It’s my house, I do whatever I want to,” he smirks, so full of himself and in a blink of the eye, they both launch themselves at you and Hell breaks loose.

They start whipping cream on you anywhere they can and when it’s gone, Harry just decides to go for anything else he can reach. Izzy is throwing sprinkles around while thanks to Harry, flour is flying everywhere, completely destroying the kitchen.

“Stop! No! I surrender!” you scream, fighting back, but it’s two against one.

“No mercy!” Harry shouts, so excited, as if he just transformed into a little boy, throwing mud around.

You grab his wrists when he tries to pour sugar on top of your head straight from the contained, holding him back, but he is so much stronger than you, it’s kind of a lost fight already. You don’t even realize how close he is, your chests are almost touching as he has you pinned against the counter, faces only about two inches away from each other. His wrist slides out of your hold, but he drops the sugar to the counter next to you. You try to snatch it to use his own weapon against him, but he is quick to stop you, forcing your hand down next to your side, but in the process he managed to bring you even closer, flushed against his hard chest and your lips part at the sudden mood change that he must be feeling as well, because the playfulness disappears from his eyes pretty fast and it’s replaced by something entirely different, something you can’t even read, because you haven’t seen it in his eyes before. And then…

Then you see his eyes flicker down to your lips, just a moment before yours move down to his. It’s that moment. It’s that exact moment when you just know you both are thinking about kissing, but you don’t know if it’s going to happen or now. You’re not even sure you want it to happen.

You fucking moron, of course you want to kiss him! That tiny voice in the back of your mind screams at you. In a heartbeat, it seems like he is about to move closer, but then the moment is interrupted and completely destroyed when a woman walks into the house, scaring you to death.

“Wow, it seems like Izzy took over control completely,” she comments, walking further into the house as you jump away from Harry, suddenly very aware of the mess you’ve made.

“Gemma, what—“ Harry starts, but he is quickly cut off.

“Don’t ask what I’m doing here, I literally texted you today that I would come by and you said it’s okay.” She gives him a look before her eyes move over to you as you’re trying to somehow clean everything up, but it’ll take a little longer probably. “You must be Y/N, hi! I’m Gemma, Harry’s sister.”

She steps over to you holding out a hand and you reach for it, but then stop, seeing that your palms are all floury. You both let out a chuckle, deciding to just move over the handshake.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, though it would have been better if we met when I didn’t have whipped cream in my eyes,” you joke.

“Auntie Gemma, we made cupcakes, do you want one?” Izzy runs up to her, holding up a cupcake that was finished, unlike the majority that are going to have poor decorations, since Harry and Izzy decided to use everything in the fight. Now it’s the floor that’s covered with icing, cream and sprinkles.

“Maybe later, sweetie, but they look awesome!”

As you wipe your face with a kitchen towel, you can feel Harry’s gaze on you, your heart beating so fast in your chest, it’s pushing all the blood up into your head that’s already feeling dizzy. What would have happened if Gemma didn’t walk in? Would has he kissed you? Or did you misread the situation and it was nothing just part of the game?

You busy yourself with cleaning up as Harry cleans himself a little with a paper towel before stepping closer to his sister.

“I totally forgot you texted, I replied in the middle of a meeting, I think I didn’t process the message.”

“It’s fine,” Gemma sighs. “I’m already used to my little brother forgetting about me,” she teases him, but he just rolls his eyes at her.

“Let me just help Y/N clean up the kitchen and I’ll be right with you. Would you mind cleaning Izzy off?” Harry asks her, but you stop him short.

“Oh, I’ll take care of this, don’t worry,” you assure him, but as his eyes snap over at you, you lose your voice. He clearly felt the moment as well earlier and now it’s kind of getting awkward, you don’t really want to be left alone with him right now. Not until you figure out what this whole thing was.

“Are you sure? I mean I was the one who started it and—“

“It’s fine,” you try your best to smile at him without overheating. He is standing several feet away from you, but you can still feel what it felt like to be pushed up against him.

Harry hesitates, his eyes following your every move while you are trying to busy yourself and act normal, while you are literally crumbling inside. You almost kissed your boss in the middle of his kitchen, you need a moment to process that.

“Alright, let me know if you need help,” he murmurs before picking Izzy up and heading upstairs to clean them both, Gemma following them right behind. When they are out of your sight, you lean against the counter, breathing out heavily.

Meanwhile upstairs, Harry hands Izzy his phone to play some games while he cleans her and himself off in the bathroom. Gemma sits on the edge of the tub, eyeing her brother curiously, which Harry notices.

“What?” he asks, stripping Izzy out of her dirty clothes.

“What was all that about?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you, Harry. You were like, ready to snog Y/N right then and there when I walked in. Did I miss something?”

“No idea what you’re talking about and I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring this up when it’s not just the two of us,” he replies firmly, looking down at the girl who is obliviously tapping on the screen. Gemma just rolls her eyes before leaving the two of them alone.

Wandering down she finds you scrubbing the counters from the mess you’ve made, deep in your thoughts. Seeing her walk in, you shoot her a smile, not sure what to say or if you even should say anything, but when she grabs a towel for herself and starts helping, you speak up.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m happy to help,” she smiles, as she starts cleaning the kitchen island up. “So how do you like working for my brother, so far? He mentioned what happened with the daycare. Honestly, those mothers are entitled spoiled brats,” she scoffs making you smile.

“They weren’t too delightful even before the whole fiasco,” you chuckle softly. “But I really like it here. There are a lot more perks and it’s so much easier to focus on one kid than to have fifteen at a time,” you point out making her laugh.

“Yeah, I’m good with my two, don’t think I could handle more.”

“Oh, you have kids?”

“Yes, two sons. Beau is turning ten this year and Jasper turned six in January.” Gemma pulls out her phone from her back pocket and unlocking it she shows you the homescreen that has a picture of two adorable boys sitting on a bench next to each other, munching on a big bowl of strawberries. The younger one, Jasper has a red sunhat on his head while Beau is rocking some cool sunglasses.

“Oh my God, they look so much like you!”

“I get that a lot and honestly, they really should!” Gemma scoffs. “It took twenty fucking hours for Jasper’s big head to come out!”

“Wow that sounds way too much,” you laugh and Gemma nods with a tired, but clearly proud smile.

“Yeah, but it was worth it. Anyway, after my two boys, Izzy is the little princess of the family.”

“The boys get along well with her?” you ask as you both keep cleaning.

“They act like her big brothers, they get so protective over her!”

“That’s cute.”

“Yeah, they really are. My mom has this summer barbeque every year, if Harry doesn’t invite you with him then I’m doing it now, because you need to see how crazy out family gets,” she smirks at you. “All of our cousins and the kids are there, it’s a whole parade.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot of fun,” you smile at her. “One of my friends in high school had a really big family and they always invited me to birthdays at their place, I loved how lively and buzzing it was always.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to get together from time to time,” she nods smiling. “So do you have a boyfriend or something?” she asks then, implying that she is not even sure if you are playing on the team she is assuming.

“Oh, um, no. It’s just me for now. So no boyfriend for me.” Your answer, making sure it gives her the information she was trying to get as well.

“Are you done interrogating her, Gem?” Harry appears from upstairs, Izzy running ahead of him before smashing herself against Gemma’s legs.

“We’re just having a chat, is that a crime now?” she rolls her eyes. “Swear to God, he is such a control freak sometimes,” she then adds turning to you.

“Would you stop offending me in my own house?” Harry gives him a look. Gemma leans down and picks Izzy up into her arms.

“Izzy, you really should tell your dad to pull the stick out of his as—“

“You are not finishing that!” Harry cuts her off and you can’t push your laughter back. Harry’s eyes meet yours over Gemma’s shoulders and he realizes that you are still all dirty and messed up. “Y/N, go and take a shower if you want. We’ll take this over, alright?”

It wasn’t an order, but you feel like it was a very firm suggestion. He is clearly uncomfortable with you talking to Gemma and though you’re not sure why, you don’t want to upset him, so just nodding you drop the kitchen towel and head upstairs to clean yourself up.

“I hope you didn’t say anything to upset her,” Harry comments as he takes over the cleaning. Gemma grimaces.

“What could have I possibly said? I was just trying to get to know her!”

“You are always a little too up in my business, Gems,” he sighs.

“Daddy, can I watch some TV, please?” Izzy asks, tugging on his pants.

“Sure. Do you need me to switch it on?”

“No, I’m a big girl, I can do it,” Izzy nods before running off, leaving the siblings alone.

“Didn’t know Y/N was your business,” Gemma tilts her head to the side. Harry opens his mouth to defend himself, but nothing comes out. He was caught with this one. “Oh my God. I knew I walked in on something, you have a thing for her!” Gemma gasps with wide eyes.

“Stop with this! You and Niall are like some middle schoolers, it’s so fucking annoying!”

“So Niall sees it too, huh?”

“Niall is an idiot,” he points out. “He is… obsessed with this idea that I should start dating again and he thinks I should make a move on Y/N.”

“Well, he is an idiot, but he has a point.”

“No he doesn’t!” Harry argues, but Gemma just rolls her eyes.

“So you want to die alone? Is that your plan?”

Harry has always hated his sister’s bluntness. She never held herself back when it came to giving her opinion, whether it was wanted or not. But what Harry hates even more is that most of the time… Gemma is right.

He doesn’t want to die alone, no one wants that, but being with someone is a hard topic for Harry after losing the person he thought he would spend the rest of his life with. Even just the thought makes him feel like he is doing something bad, like he shouldn’t even be thinking about anyone but his wife, even years after the tragedy.

“Harry, look…” Gemma breathes out leaning against the counter next to her brother. “I know it’s a fucked up situation and I know things are still not in the right place in your head. But eventually you’ll have to move on. We all want to see you happy and I think that… I think Maggie would want that for you as well.”

Harry tries not to physically cringe at the name, the familiar pain is already clutching his heart, like it has been since the day of the accident. Some days are easier, some days are harder, but Gemma is right. Things are still not in the right place in his head and he knows that, he is just not sure how to fix it at this point.

“I’m not saying you should date Y/N, I’m not Niall to force anyone on you. I’m just telling you to try to get out a little more, just to test the waters. But you obviously like her so if it happens to be her, it wouldn’t be a big deal, if you ask me.”

Gemma shrugs and goes back to the cleaning while Harry keeps his swirling thoughts to himself. Two of the most important people have told him the same thing recently and though part of him wants to stubbornly go against it, his rational side knows that they might be right.

But not much can be done when a man is still blaming himself for the death of his own wife. Because that’s exactly the case when it comes to Harry and no one really knows that the thought has been haunting him for years now…

After taking a quick shower, washing your hair and changing into clothes that are not covered in flour, you join Harry and Gemma downstairs and insist on finishing the rest of the cleaning while they move out to the terrace to talk. The evening goes by peacefully, Harry decides to order dinner and Gemma joins the three of you at the dining table.

You love watching the dynamic between them and they truly seem to be very close. Gemma likes to embarrass Harry with stories from their childhood and you are enjoying them all a little too much maybe, but it’s nice to think that he wasn’t always this confident businessman.

“It was so good to meet you, Y/N!” Gemma hugs you goodbye after dinner.

“You too!”

“Bye Izzy, come and give a smooch for your favorite auntie!” Squatting down she lets Izzy wrap her arms around her neck as she kisses her cheek sloppily.

“Bye Gemma,” she singsongs. Harry pulls his sister into a hug as well before walking her out.

You start washing the dishes, Izzy talking to you about whatever show she was watching earlier on TV. When Harry returns he tells you to just leave the rest of the cleaning up for him while he bathes Izzy, but you don’t listen to him and finish up while they are upstairs.

Bringing your laptop down you settle on the couch and just start scrolling through social media, reading articles and whatnot, the TV quietly playing in the background. You send out an email regarding the wedding you are attending this weekend, making sure everything is in place.

When Harry emerges again he joins you on the couch with a tired sigh.

“Thanks for washing the dishes but you really should just leave it to me when I ask you to,” he smiles at you softly.

“It’s not a big deal, I like to be useful,” you chuckle shutting your laptop down.

“As if you’re not useful enough already,” he huffs smiling to himself. “Oh, before I forget, I wanted to talk to you about Izzy going to my mum’s.”

“Oh, yeah, you mentioned it earlier.”

“Yeah. So she is going to spend a week at my mother’s and I timed it to line up with Sarah and Mitch’s wedding. So I’ll leave her at my mum’s Sunday evening and pick her up the next Sunday which lines up perfectly with the wedding on Saturday. That week is obviously free for you as well, like a paid vacation,” he chuckles.

“Sounds good. How far does your mother lives from here?”

“Just a few hours, not that horrible of a drive. If you’re up for it, we can carpool to the wedding and then pick her up together right from there and head home.”

“Yeah, that works for me, thanks,” you nod.

Harry stays and turns his attention on the TV, seemingly pretty unbothered while you still haven’t stopped thinking about what happened in the kitchen earlier. Glancing over at Harry it appears that it’s not that big of a deal for him, so it makes you settle with the thought that it’s not one for you either.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him grabbing your laptop and phone as you rise from your seat.

“Nigh, Y/N,” he smiles as you round the couch and head upstairs, but you stop at the bottom of the stairs, lancing back at the mop of locks that’s visible from him from behind. You watch him run his fingers through his hair and you let out a shaky breath, knowing well you did not convince yourself that it was nothing. Not for you, at least.

Because you wanted him to kiss you.

The wedding you’re attending is held on a farm owned by the parents of the bride. The whole barn was transformed into this very country like fairytale location, lots of fairy lights and candles along with some nice, pastel colored flowers with a hint of purple between them.

Everything goes planned. Arriving you meet first with the groom and then with the bride in their separated rooms of the house, going over everything they want just one last time before you get down to work, snapping loads of pictures from them getting ready for the big day.

Emily, the bride is a chatty girl and all her bridesmaids are her sisters, coming from a big family with five daughters, she is the second oldest. The groom, Jesse is a few years older than Emily, but they are such a cute couple and they are clearly so madly in love, it’s always nice to see people be so happy with the right person.

You keep going back and forth between the groom and the bride and later you do the first look thing as well, when Jesse stands outside in the field and Emily walks up behind him, letting him see her for the first time. It really is always such a special moment and you tear up as well, watching Jesse fall speechless upon seeing his beautiful fiancé.

As the ceremony is about to start and the guests slowly take their seats on the two sides of the aisle, you make a quick trip down there to make sure you are using the right lenses, not wanting to change a lot when the ceremony has started. You stop in the corner, just trying out if you can shoot some pictures of the guests as well with the lens you are planning to use, you take a look around using the camera and that’s when you almost faint.

You would pick out that face from any, it has grown to you way too much, but you didn’t think you’d ever see him again. Lowering the camera you stare at the tall figure with parted lips, blinking a few times just to make sure it’s who you think it is.

But it is in fact your ex-fiancé, Keith, and to make it even worse, the woman standing next to him with his arm around her waist is the one he cheated on you with. They are still together and now you are staring right at them.

Tears sting your eyes as you try to look for a way to escape before he spots you, though you know he’ll see you sooner or later, but right now they are standing right at the entrance of the barn and you can’t avoid walking past them.

Keeping your head down you try to stay unnoticed as you march towards the exit, but you apparently, you are out of luck.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Keith calls after you just when you thought you were successful in sneaking out. Stopping in your tracks you seriously think about just running off, pretending like you didn’t even hear him, but it’s kind of too late and it would be ridiculous. So turning around on your heels, you plaster the fakest smile on your lips as you look at him.

“Keith, hi!” you breathe out, taking just a few steps closer to him, still keeping some distance between the two of you. Stella, the lucky woman on his arm blinks at you and at first you’re not even sure she realizes who you are or if she even knows you. The longer she looks at you the more certain you become that she indeed does not know that you’re the woman Keith cheated on with her. Nice.

Keith realizes that the two of you have been staring at each other awkwardly, so clearing his throat he quickly introduces the two of you to each other.

“Um, Y/N, this is Stella. Stella, this is… Y/N.”

You can tell he was thinking about using titles, but he decided to leave it at that, though it would have been a lot more interesting if he just titled the two of you.

Y/N, this is the woman I cheated on you with, who is my girlfriend now. Stella, this is Y/N, to whom I was engaged when I was fucking you!

You flash her a quick, not too honest smile and it seems like she is catching onto that something is not right, but she can’t tell for sure.

“What are you doing here?” Keith asks, a little harsher than you would have liked him to talk to you, but it’s kind of understandable. Seeing each other after what happened is not a pleasant experience for either of you, you assume. You hold up the camera as the answer for the stupid question and Keith furrows his eyebrows at you. “Oh, you still to the photography thingy?”

“Thingy?” you ask, quite offended. Keith always belittled your love for photography. He thought it was just a hobby, something that should stay just a hobby and not get turned into anything more. He once told you during a fight that it takes your time away from more important things, like doing chores. That was one of the most sexist things he has ever said to you and you should have packed your stuff right then and there. But you didn’t, stuck around for three more months before you found out about the cheating.

“Well, this thingy is kind of a side job for me,” you inform him.

“Oh. That sounds… fun,” he nods, but it’s clearer than daylight that he thinks it’s just a waste of time. Good thing he has no business in anything about you anymore.

“Um, I’m gonna go now, but I guess see you two around.” You shoot them another fake smile before turning around and walking away from this conversation straight from Hell.

Marching away from the barn you rush into the nearest bathroom you can find. You need a minute. Or maybe two… five. This did not just happen. You didn’t just face your cheating ex-fiancé with the woman he cheated on you, what kind of sick movie plot is this you found yourself in?

Placing your camera to the counter near the sink you wash your hands and sprinkle some water to your face as well before you lean to the edge of the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You look like you’ve just seen a ghost and quite frankly, you would have been happier with the ghost than with Keith and Stella.

You’ve been doing alright since the breakup, but it’s obvious that only because you didn’t have to see Keith. Following the blowup when you found the explicit texts in his phone, you only had to face him twice and never since then. It’s easier to be okay when you don’t have to look at the person who hurt you most all the time, but coming face to face with him now really threw you off, especially with Stella on his arm. The fucker did not only cheat on you with her, but he went straight into a relationship with her and she probably doesn’t even know that she was just the sidechick in the beginning. If you were really evil, you’d go up to her and enlighten her about who you really are, but you are not one to cause a scene. Keith kept the two of you apart consciously, he never let you go into his office because he wanted Stella to think that he is a single man while he was engaged. Sickening to think how slyly he played the both of you and even after his little plan failed, he kept lying to the poor girl and lured her into a relationship. You wonder if he is already fucking another girl behind her back.

Your fingers start to turn white, gripping the edge of the sink tightly so you loosen up a bit, shaking your arms and shoulders off to pull yourself together. You fix your makeup and run your fingers through your hair quickly to give it some volume before grabbing the camera from the counter and heading out. However shocking it is to be at the same place as Keith again, you have a job to do right now and the bride and groom are expecting some amazing photos and that’s exactly what you’re gonna deliver.

You manage to busy yourself to the point where you are able to forget about Keith’s existence for most of the time. Following the happy couple around you don’t get too much free time, the camera is glued in front of your face basically and it brings you some peace. For a while.

Emily and Jesse disappear for an outfit change and it gives you a short break since they didn’t want that to be photographed, only when they return. So you get yourself a virgin cocktail from the bar and head outside to get some fresh air. You text back Heather and Trevor and then just scroll through Instagram, enjoying some alone time from the buzzing you’ve been around all day.

“Y/N!”

Turning to your right you spot Keith walking towards you, this time alone, but it doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes.

“What do you want?” you mumble under your breath.

“Just… though we could chat for a little. It’s been a long time.”

“Not enough,” you retort. “And I would like to skip the chatting.”

“Come on, you can’t be still that mad at me,” he chuckles and you almost punch him in the face right then and there.

“Well I am. So go back to your little girlfriend and leave me alone.”

“I know things didn’t end too well, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be civil towards each other.” You can’t help the laughter that bubbles from your throat. He can’t be serious, trying to act like the bigger person now after everything he has done to you. This has got to be a joke.

“This is me being civil, because I’m not throwing anything at you. So leave me the fuck alone, let me do my job and then we hopefully don’t see each other again.”

“Come on. You don’t miss me, baby?” he smirks at you, completely ignoring what you just told him. You physically cringe at the pet name he just called you and you take a step away from him, needing the distance more than ever.

“I don’t. Now leave.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Too fucking bad. Now leave!” you raise your voice, but it does nothing. He is still standing there, looking at you like he didn’t completely destroy you just about a year ago.

“Heard that you haven’t dated anyone since we broke up.”

“Are you asking around after me?” you scowl.

“We have a few mutual friends,” he shrugs. “Is it because you still want me?”

“My dating life is none of your business, Keith. And I don’t want you. Quite frankly, I don’t even know how I could ever want you, so now please let me enjoy my break and leave me alone.”

“Y/N, I just—“ Keith reaches for your hand, but you pull back before he could touch you, holding up a finger at him you start talking slowly and very clearly so the message goes through.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me or talk to me. I want nothing to do with you, you’re a manipulating, cheating, egoistic asshole who ruins the life of others. I’m telling you this for the last time, Keith: leave me the fuck alone.”

He looks a bit stunned at your harsh response, but you couldn’t care less if you’ve hurt him. He did way worse things to you than snapping at you. As you walk past him to head back into the barn, he doesn’t let the chance to punch you in the stomach with his words one last time.

“I wish I could say you were a good fuck, but that wouldn’t be true. Good luck finding some lowlife loser who would even think about marrying you!”

Every fiber in your body is screaming to launch yourself at him and punch him until he is unconscious, because that’s exactly what he deserves. The tears are already stinging your eyes, but you don’t give him the satisfaction to see you react to his words. So swallowing hard you just keep on walking until you are out of his sight, bottling up the sobs and tears for the time when you’re home and on your own.

It’s past two am when you arrive home, drained and exhausted, both emotionally and exhausted. Following the conversation you had wit Keith he didn’t try to talk to you anymore, but you could always feel his eyes on you, wherever you were, as if he wanted to see if you are watching him too, but you weren’t. Looking at him would have been too painful so you tried your best to keep your eyes away from him through the night.

You know damn well that what he told you when you were leaving was just to get a reaction out of you, to get you upset enough to start a fight with him, it’s just who he is, he enjoys having the last word and the higher ground in every situation, but you didn’t want to be his partner in his stupid games this time. However it still hurt, what he said.

Walking into the dead silent house you kick your shoes off, drop your keys into the little bowl next to the door and head to the kitchen to get yourself some water. Pouring yourself a glass you lean against the counter and as you stare ahead of you, nothing can stop the tears from falling.

Everything you kept bottled up during the afternoon and evening just hits you all at once, making you break down heavier than any time in the past months. You sob and cry, letting it all out until your head feels like exploding, but you still can’t stop. You were not ready to face the man that broke your heart like no one before.

In the middle of your breakdown you don’t even realize the footsteps coming from the stairs.

“Y/N?” Harry’s voice calls out, snapping you out of your pity party. He immediately sees that you’ve been crying like a baby, no doubt, but you still try to wipe your cheeks and eyes, pretending like everything is totally fine.

“Harry! What are you doing up so late?” you breathe out hoarsely.

“Just wanted to get some water, but have you been crying? What happened, are you alright?” he starts bombarding you with questions, clearly worried about you, seeing you in this state.

“Everything is fine, I just… had a rough night,” you chuckle through your tears that are still rolling down your cheeks, those bastards!

“A rough night doesn’t make you sob like this. What happened?” Rounding the kitchen island he stops in front of you, not sure how to approach the situation, but it’s kind of sweet how he wants to help, but doesn’t know how.

“I, uhh—I met my… ex-fiancé tonight. He was at the wedding I worked at,” you mumble shutting your eyes closed.

“Did he hurt you? Y/N, if he laid a hand on you, I swear—“ “No, he didn’t hurt me,” you shake your head before adding: “Well, not physically.”

“Come on, let’s sit down for a bit.” He gently takes your hand and pulls you to the couch in the living room, making you sit before he plops down next to you. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s really stupid, I shouldn’t be this upset about it, but I just… It hurt and I can’t change it,” you whine, wiping some more tears away.

“I’m sure it’s not stupid. Tell me what happened!”

“He was there with the woman he cheated on me with. They are basically a couple now, but she doesn’t even know that Keith was engaged to me when they started dating, so it’s really fucked up. And it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal, because, you know, fuck him, he can do whatever he wants, it’s not my business anymore, but then he came up to me and tried to chitchat with me, which I didn’t really want, of course.”

Harry listens carefully, giving you his undivided attention while you fumble with the hem of your shirt, kind of avoiding to look him in the eyes. Part of you is afraid you’d see judgment in them and you don’t think you would be able to handle that.

“I asked him to leave me alone, but he just kept talking and then I snapped at him a little harsher and when I was walking away he…”

You scowl again, hearing his words play in your head so clearly, as if he was standing behind you, repeating them to you. Harry reaches out and he gently covers your hand with his warm palm, giving it a gentle squeeze, letting you know that he is patiently waiting, not rushing you to talk. Taking a deep breath you blink your tears away before continuing.

“He basically said that I wasn’t even a good fuck and no man will want to marry me.”

“Jesus fuck, what kind of asshole did you date, Y/N?” Harry snaps in horror and it’s kinda funny, makes you laugh through your tears.

“Seems like the worst kind,” you mumble with a bitter chuckle. “I know I shouldn’t have let his words get to my head, but… it’s easier said than done. I feel like such a loser,” you breathe out, your lips trembling as the tears are threatening to flow again.

“Don’t blame yourself for having feelings, it’s completely normal. Of course his words hurt, he once meant a lot to you and he probably knows that too, that’s why he tried to use it against you. What he said held no truth.”

“You think so?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper as you finally look at him. His green irises appear so warm as he smiles at you, squeezing your hand again. He scoots a little closer, his knee bumping against the side of your thigh.

“Y/N, I know so,” he chuckles. “That guy was a proper idiot for what he did to you. You didn’t deserve any of that and any many would be lucky to have you as their wife.”

“Really?” you pout, feeling so touched and loved from his words. It’s exactly the reassurance you needed.

“Absolutely,” he nods smiling sweetly.

Everything that happened today messed with your head big time. And now sitting with Harry on the couch, listening to him telling you how worthy you are of love and happiness, it completely throws you off. Ever since that moment in the kitchen before Gemma walked in, you’ve been nonstop thinking about what would have happened and it made you notice even the tiniest things about him.

Harry Styles is a man who is clearly a sight for the eyes, with his chiseled jawline, pink lips and gorgeous green eyes, the duality of his powerful and business appropriate attires he wears during the day and the tattoos hidden under his dress shirts, you’d have to be blind to say that he is not an attractive man. But on top of everything on the outside, he is a wonderful person on the inside and it twists your head more than you’d like it.

Your brain switches off for a moment, or just the rational side, but you completely stop thinking as you stare at each other. The intimacy and emotionality of the moment pushes all your common sense to the side as your gaze wanders down his lips.

The thought of kissing him comes fast and before you could even stop yourself, you move forward and press your lips to his. The touch of his lips against yours is sweet and warm and kind of intoxicating, but in just a blink of the eye your rationality gets a grip of you and your eyes pop open in realization of what you just did. Pulling back you gasp and cover your mouth in shock, feeling your whole inside trembling at the thought of getting yourself fired by this move.

Harry seems frozen and quite shocked as well, his lips are parted as he stays still in his spot.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what’s gotten into me! Harry, I’m sorry, I promise—“

You start rambling in panic, but you don’t get to finish. Harry moves forward, his hand coming to the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss, this time making it a lot more passionate and even your tongues get involved. He is kissing you hard and you almost moan into his mouth when you feel his other hand come to your thigh, squeezing it just enough to send a shockwave up your spine. Your hands come up to the back of his hair and you hold onto him for dear life, carrying the kiss on like you’re two teenagers in your parents’ basement, doomed to get caught any moment. Harry goes in again and again, tugging on your bottom lip, licking into your mouth and making your insides twist just from having his lips on yours.

And then you both let go of each other, needing some time to breathe and you slowly realize what just happened. You both stare at each other in disbelief, completely shocked at your own actions, but neither of you have any idea what should happen next.

You let go of each other, sitting back to your normal positions, awkwardly breathing heavily and you realize you cannot deal with this right now. You are way too drained and tired to make it make sense so you decide to just… call it a night.

“I’ll head to bed,” you quietly inform him as you stand up from the couch, walking like a zombie, the shock still clouding your judgment.

“Good night,” Harry mumbles, just as confused as you are.

“Good night,” you nod and basically sprint up the stairs and don’t stop until you shut your door behind you.

Leaning your back against it, you slide down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you stare into the darkness for long minutes. Quite some time passes by before you hear Harry walk upstairs, his door opens and then closes before silence falls on the house again. With a blank mind, you push yourself up, take a quick shower and just go to bed, ignoring everything that has happened today. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

-

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[judysxnd]

Pictures you take of Finn on vacation

Beach edition

I had this idea today when I was looking at pictures of Finn. I think that’s a good idea, I might do it for other occasions! I liked the result so yeah, I think I’ll do it again. Hope you will like it too!

——————————————————————————

Its the morning, around 10am, and you’re in the hotel room. You’re laying in bed, on your phone as Finn is in the bathroom. Music blaring from the speaker (at a reasonable volume), Finn suddenly got out of the bathroom in his robe and starts dancing around. You took the opportunity to take a picture when he makes a pose. You couldn’t stop laughing.

——————————————————————————

One afternoon, as it was very sunny but too hot to do anything, you guys decided to rent a boat for the day, and sail around. As Finn knows how to drive a boat, he could show you. After he made you take the wheel for some time, you went back to your sit, and Finn took it back. You found your phone in your pockets, which gave you an idea: take a picture of him.

“What are you doing?” Finn said analyzing what you were doing.

“Enjoying the view” you smiled which made him laugh.

——————————————————————————

There was this one and only rainy day during the trip where the temperature dropped really bad. You stayed in bed, enjoying the view, cuddling. You also watched some tv shows, and a movie while eating dinner. After dining, it stopped raining so you decided to go for a walk on the beach and watch the sunset. This time, Finn took his camera, and took pictures of you without you knowing.

“The sunset is really red” you said staring at the sun.

“Yeah it’s beautiful” Finn said coming next to you as you stopped.

“Give me your camera” he did not question it and gave it to you. You took some pictures of the landscape, but you also took some of Finn.

——————————————————————————

The first morning after you arrived at the hotel, you were both up really early. You were both getting ready, however you didn’t know what to do. It was kind of cloudy but it was a little hot.

“we could go on for a walk” you suggested, as you were drying your hair.

“Huh, too lazy” you laughed.

“Not even one day on vacation and you’re already playing the lazy card. What are we going to do during this week?” You both laughed.

“We could take our bikes” you were confused.

“That’s literally more exhausting than walking”

“Yeah, but I don’t know, I kind of prefer that” you laughed.

“Well then, okay, I’m good for that”

After you were both ready, you went to take your bikes that were in the car. Finn got on his, so did you. He was arranging something when you put your phone out.

“Finn, smile” he looked up, confused, then laughed. You took the first picture.

“Always taking pictures”

“I’m making memories dumbass” he rolled his eyes.

After a while of riding you arrived on the road next to the beach. You were challenging each other on some races and all, just goofing around. In front of you, there were two women, standing in front of the beach, and taking pictures. After passing them, Finn went a little faster and mimicked them. You bursted into laughter and played the game by taking pictures of him, which gave as a result the second picture.

——————————————————————————

Tonight, you both wanted to eat outside, on the beach. There were tables with benches not far from the hotel. You ordered some pizzas and bought a few beers before going there. It was cute, just the two of you, laughing, talking, drinking a little. You had some cards and games, so you played, fighting because one’s cheating and all.

“It’s been a while we haven’t done that” you added

“Yeah. It was much needed”

“Agreed” you both smiled at each other.

The next morning you found this picture in your camera roll, not really remembering when you took it.

——————————————————————————

Obviously it would not be a true beach vacation without surfing. Finn loves to surf, which means that the location of the holidays were based on a good place to surf. Unfortunately you do not know how to surf. After a very long conversation, Finn managed to convince you that he could teach you the basics because “it could be fun if we had something more in common, we could go surf together and all”. You couldn’t resist him, so one afternoon when the waves seemed good, you went to the beach, on a side where there weren’t much people.

When you arrived on the parking lot, Finn was so excited to teach you everything. He got out of the car and started to get out his board. You stood next to the car, nervous, looking around you. You finally looked back at Finn, still taking stuff out of the car. You looked at your phone, hoping for something that could avoid this situation. You looked up to see Finn smiling at you. You quickly went on Snapchat and took this picture of him.

After walking a while, Finn put his board on the sand and showed you the positions and all. You mimicked him, feeling embarrassed.

“This is so humiliating” you said looking down.

“Why?”

“I don’t know” Finn laughed

“Don’t think about the people around us” you stared at him, he knew you too well.

After a while, you both went in the water, staying around the little waves area so you could try to find your balance there first. Let’s just say it was not a success. You ended up staying on the sand, watching Finn surf like a god. You kind of felt dumb, embarrassed, even uncomfortable because you couldn’t do it, and because Finn and the other people around you had to see this.

Finn made sure the rest of the day was way better than this so you would not feel guilty for anything, after all it wasn’t that bad.

——————————————————————————

One classic afternoon on the beach, tanning, playing and swimming together. After swimming for a while, you took a break and joined Finn who stayed on the beach. He was looking at you, phone out, taking pictures. You laughed as you approached him.

“Please tell me you’re not taking pictures”

“So you’re allowed to but not me?”

“Exactly” you laughed as you sat down in front of him. He took one more picture of you, which made you roll your eyes and smile.

“The view is too beautiful”

“So cheesy”

After that, Finn went in the water for some time, and when he came back, you made sure to do exactly the same thing he did with you. As he sat down, you took this picture.

“We’re even now” you said proudly.

“We’re far from even” you both laughed.

——————————————————————————

One morning, you were both wandering around the city, going in some shops, talking, discovering the city when you came across what seemed a garage. Finn was intrigued because there were only old cars parked in the front. You walked closely to a board which explained that this place was actually renting the cars for a day.

“No way! We have to do this!” Finn exclaimed. He was suddenly so excited, like a child. It was hard to say no, and you were also excited about this idea.

The ride was so good, driving around the city, finding new places to go after, enjoying the wind and the sun in this old car. The experience was great. Before taking the car back at the garage, you stopped by the beach.

“Here, take a photo of me in the car” you laughed.

“You love it that much?”

“Come on just do it!” He was so excited. He kept begging you, so you just took the picture. What a child.

[signifying-something]

Artemis Fowl: Animated Bloopers

So a couple weeks ago on the Artemis Fowl Incident Report Discord server ( @artemis-fowl-incident-report ), the brilliant @brekkie-bing had an amazing idea. Like how The Lion King and Brother Bear had animated bloopers in the post-credit scenes, she wondered what that would be like if we ever had an animated Artemis Fowl movie or tv series. That is where the greatest, most stupendous chain of ideas was birthed~~

SO MY SWEET PEEPS!! I present to y’all a whole host of bloopers me and a number of other people came up with, and feel free to reblog your own or even draw some of them!! As the great Super Mario says, LETSAGOO!!

Mulch is about to blow a big one, but it just comes out as a squeak

Foaly’s got a scene with a long rant in it, but he keeps jumbling up his words and they do about 76 takes to get it right

Holly writing “Fresh AF” in white marker on Artemis’ sunglasses, when he puts them on in a high tension scene you can here the whole crew in the background laughing

A phone goes off during filming. The ringtone is Madonna’s ‘Papa Don’t Preach’. The phone is Butler’s...

The camera pans on Holly eating some vole curry on set without realising her it’s her scene, her eyes widen as she’s like “OH CRAP ARE WE SHOOTING?”

Holly and Artemis goofing around during the punch take

Holly actually punches him super hard and he’s out cold

Artemis cracking up when he fumbles a line. Like, the voice actors just messing up and taking the piss

That one scene is Book One where Angeline has a weird homemade mannequin thing dressed as Artemis Fowl Senior, and the head just rolls off mid take and everyone bursts out laughing. Artemis is hands on knees screaming at the floor in laughter.

Juliet and Holly strutting and posing in the dressing room with Butler filming them

A full on argument between Argon and Cumulus which slowly delves into insulting each other

When they print out the first translation: “This...is [censor bleep]” cue laughter behind the camera

Julius roots cigar being too strong and he just chokes on the smoke for a painful five minutes while the crew hold in their laughter

Artemis struggles saying ‘I don’t like lollipops’ with a straight face

Footage of the troll fight without audio mixing so it's just Butler grunts and plate mail noises

Holly filming Artemis getting make up done on set

Artemis, glaring: I bet you won't release footage of your hair and makeup getting done

Holly does anyways

He’s getting some face powder on his noggin and Holly warns; “If that stuff gets on my hand when I punch you..”

Artemis, constantly: What's my line? I have so many words.

Artemis: I read the script but it’s all just words

Artemis:...*sigh* LINE???

When they finish a take they all just start dancing randomly cause thank god Artemis finally got his line out

Like Artemis walks into the room all intimidating and then he just stands there and he’s like “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing”

Artemis: L

Juliet: If you say line again I will throw one of the gold bars at you

Like Holly’s just watching and waiting awkwardly

Artemis: And this vial uh contains...llll

Butler: *glaring*

Artemis: llllemonade

Artemis running lines off camera and he's great and intimidating and subtle when he actually knows the words

When the director asks if everyone’s good on lines and they all know the questions for Artemis so they all just look at him

Artemis: Do you people understand how many words this is? This is approaching Rosencrantz And Guildenstern Are Dead levels of words

He has to pay up for every fudged line and every time they laugh or have a blank moment

Holly has a swear jar and Artemis has a "line?" jar

Artemis assuming it’s Holly’s line and he’s staring at her and she’s like “BRO ITS YOU”

Holly: That's a quarter in the jar

Artemis: THAT DOES NOT COUNT, I DID NOT SAY IT

Grub juggling the bars of gold cause they’re made of styrofoam and one of them hits trouble

Juliet accidently wacks someone else with her jade ring and she just goes "Oh god. I'm so sorry" repeatedly

Julius and Holly can’t stop laughing when he’s yelling at her

Holly doing the flying into scene and she trips while knocking over the props

Maybe a really heart warming scene where Holly catches Artemis playing Moonlight Sonata on the piano and secretly films him in his element

Mulch’s jaw gets stuck and he’s like “no guys I’m serious I can’t shut my mouth” Holly being like “well there’s a first”

Mulch hides food on set like RDJ during Avengers

Mulch would eat all the food and Holly would go "Goddamnit Mulch, why are you like this."

They come off set to get lunch. Food? Gone

Redoing takes because Mulch has cream cheese on his face

Inexplicably, it's always cream cheese

Even when they don't have any on set

Camera zooms in randomly on someone zoning out and making weird faces as they wait

The fairies being so short that the boom mic comes so low down in shots and it gets really annoying for everyone

Butler like Mufasa getting his voice pitch right as the audio rolls

Foaly: Uhh line? Sorry, it's a really wordy scene

Artemis: So it's okay when he does it?

Foaly: I don't call line nearly as much as you do. Aren't you supposed to be a genius?

Artemis: Aren't you?

Butler: Artemis, remember who you are

Butler: Artemis, I am your father

Juliet: Hell yeah you are

Thank you so much to my peeps who contributed: @brekkie-bing @pokegeek151 @the-local-bookworm and everyone on the discord server who was with us during those crazy, like, 15 minutes.

Once again, feel free to reblog and add your own or even draw some of these out! (Low-key looking at you; @brekkie-bing @iesnoth @hop-a-lot @fowlblue @popsicle-stick @blackhollyshort @talesoftales and all you beautiful artists...pwetty pwease 👉🏽👈🏽)

Have fun darlings!

[photiniainsummer]

Something Worth Celebrating

Rating: General Audiences (basically GenFic)

Summary: Dark admits he sort of, kind of has a birthday. And then he sort of, kind of asks you to throw him a party.

I know. Pinch me, I must be dreaming.

(Basically a purely indulgent fic where Dark gets to be happy for 0.2 seconds. Yes, it's late, please forgive me, Mr. Darkiplier sir.)

(second person POV, gender neutral reader)

Word Count: 4906

Author’s Note: No warnings. Honestly just tooth-rotting tenderness. This is a super-late birthday 'present' for our favorite spooky ego that I just couldn't get out of my head. Also posted to AO3!

The thought strikes you in the midst of your weekly scan of Mark’s content. While Dark makes sure to check his uploads and social media presence moment-to-moment, you often join his weekly wrap-up review sessions as a second, fresh set of eyes. It’s usually a silent and uneventful affair, with Dark sitting at his desk and you to one side of it, both focused on the week’s batch of content as it projects on the opposite wall. Hooking up the projector was easier than hunching over Dark’s laptop, the two of you bunched together around the screen, and it usually meant you could catch and examine any irregularities with greater accuracy. Not that there had been any for months. Mark’s content has become suspiciously unsuspicious, with no odd shot changes in the middle of playthroughs, no sideways comments in food reviews… and so your mind has started wandering during your viewings.

It’s not that his content is boring. But it’s hard to enjoy Mark’s lighthearted commentary, really, knowing the man for what he is: a manipulative, body-snatching, undead creature bent on conquering the hearts and minds of the world. That kind of imposing terror makes it hard to kick back and enjoy him goofing through a new horror game.

And, yet, despite that same terror, it’s difficult to stay fully focused on the task at hand. Maybe it’s the lack of weirdness lulling you into being unobservant - maybe that’s Mark’s goal. Regardless, he makes a jokey comment, surprised by a new onslaught of enemies so soon after receiving a new weapon - “What, is it my birthday?” - and though he proceeds to casually mow down a fresh flood of zombies, your mind is nowhere near his running monologue. No, you’re off on a tangent of wonderings - When exactly is his birthday, anyway? Is it soon? Do the egos share his, or do they have their own, if they know it? When would they celebrate it, anyway? Did Mark build in birthdays for them when he summoned them up, or was it whatever day they were formed from some strange, shadowy process you still don’t know the specifics of? It’s a strange and vaguely sad thing to ponder, your mouth turning down at the corners as you roll it around in your mind. To your side, Dark sighs softly, reaching out to pause the current video. Mark’s face freezes in an unflattering expression, and you turn to look at the entity.

“What, think of something?”

“No,” he demurs, scrubbing the video back. “But you are distracted. What do you last remember?” He doesn’t sound annoyed, which is a little surprising. Where a few months ago he would have bitten off a sharp comment about your wandering attention, he just gives you a mild look when you don’t immediately respond, hands hovering at his computer. It speaks to how routine this has become for you both, how each of you has grown accustomed to the other - the ringing of his aura barely registers for you now, although you were certain when you arrived that investing in a lifetime supply of ibuprofen was a basic requirement for working in close proximity to Dark for any extended period of time.

That’s when the thought strikes you - you meandering thoughts crystallizing around his presence, centering on him. You have to wonder how much of your thought process Dark actually heard, if your idle thoughts are loud enough for him to pick up. But seeing as he’s not making any attempt to immediately answer, nor chide you for thinking about such unimportant things, the thought, as a question, easily tumbles out between you.

“Do you have a birthday?”

He immediately furrows his brow, blinking in surprise. “What?”

“I said, do you have a birthday?” you repeat, committing to this line of questioning. You go so far as to turn slightly in your chair to look at him better, attention fully directed at him. Dark sighs and turns back to the computer, picking a spot in the video a couple of minutes ago, certainly farther back than necessary.

“I heard what you said,” he clarifies. “I am attempting to understand what could have possibly brought that up.”

“He said something about his birthday. It just got me thinking, that’s all.” Dark pauses, squinting his eyes ever so slightly at the screen. His cursor hovers over the playback bar, obviously considering his next move. You pause with him, then a smile tugs at your mouth. “You missed that, didn’t you.”

“I did not. It was merely an inane comment, so I did not take note of it.” He’s a little too indignant, too quick with that response, and it makes you laugh. He shoots you a patented glare, although it carries very little true malice. “When did he say that.”

“A couple minutes forward, it’s right after he gets that new gun.” Dark hums in response, clearly still miffed at having been successfully teased, but in a good-natured sort of way. You watch him scrub for the right spot, lulling back into a comfortable silence for a few moments before you remember what brought all this up and press on. “So, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Don’t be obtuse, come on. Do you have a birthday?”

“They had birthdays,” he remarks. You recall them, or, at least, a picture of them, the only one you’ve seen that isn’t a staged portrait. You like it better than the stiff, properly posed photographs Dark hesitantly showed you once, when he had finally explained his origins to you. In the one you preferred to remember, a well-dressed woman and man hug each other close as they smile warmly into the camera. It’s some holiday, or just an excuse to get together - there are garlands blurred in the background - and the woman is holding a fancy-looking drink in the hand that isn’t wrapped around behind her brother, tugging him into frame. He looks a bit put-upon, smiling almost embarrassedly as if the woman has cajoled him in front of the cameraperson into taking a picture with her. But his expression, for all it implies, is still warm. His body curls close to his sister, his hold on her obviously affectionate. The woman is beaming like she’s won, squeezing her brother close as her cheeks apple, her painted lips curled in such pride. Her eyes dance, catching the light of the camera’s flash. They look comfortable, happy, beautiful. Full of life. The woman’s smile had pulled one out of you, when you saw it.

Dark’s explanation of how he had come to be makes the memory all the sadder, the melancholia curling around your throat even as you remember it now.

“I, on the other hand, was not born,” he explains, and for a moment you begin to regret bringing it up. But the shadow-bathed man doesn’t seem bothered, his tone matter-of-fact, simple. You know it pains him still, you saw the look on his face as he described how he had come to be, how his aura had raged around him like he was going to pull apart. How their faces had appeared in agonized red and blue flashes behind him - now that you knew what you were looking for, you could see them as themselves, not just as Dark.

Which makes the fact he can say something that directly referential without threatening to rip through existence sort of comforting. Is he just comfortable with you, now, knowing that you know? Whatever it is, you decide it’s a good thing, and settle back in your chair. “Well, sure, not as such, but… do you celebrate theirs?” you ask, as gently as you can.

“I do not.” Dark finds the proper place in the video, advancing to it.

“So you don’t celebrate you… coming into being, on any particular day?”

“I do not.” You squint slightly.

“You don’t,” you repeat. Dark sighs once more, bringing a hand to his brow in the way he does when Wilford is being particularly taxing.

“No. I do not. But the… fans. Do.” It’s an answer given through gritted teeth - the man finds the celebration of him and his many appearances in Mark’s work frustrating, to put it simply. Of course, he’s completely committed to his role as the villain the actor dreamed of, and won’t lie and say he doesn’t find it utterly amusing how Mark’s own fans seem to like him more than the actor himself. But all that is tinged with the truth of his conscription into this role, the indignity of being painted as the wicked mirror image of the man who took everything from him. It is particularly insulting, particularly painful. So to have some false version of him celebrated and adored, is…

Well, to use his words: Disgusting.

You would go for complicated, instead. It does feels strange to have them celebrate a fictionalized version of the entity next to you, given the reality of the situation, but it’s not like you can fault them for what they don’t know. They’re caught up in Mark’s game - it isn’t their fault. Still, you aren’t really surprised they found a whole day to put aside for the man.

“What day did they pick?”

“Hm?” Dark seems caught up in some internal brooding, set off by the memories of the fanart he’s seen. You prod again.

“What day is it? That they made your ‘birthday’?”

He pauses a moment, considering. You can tell he knows, he’s just debating whether or not to tell you. Whether or not this will have unintended consequences. “June 19th. It was the first time Mark posted something… strange enough to be counted as my first ‘appearance.’ So it is my birthday, by their reckoning.” He pauses again. “I suppose it is as good a day as any. Although I do not understand it - why would someone want to celebrate my existence?”

His tone takes this bitter, harsh edge, and you instinctively want to cringe against it. But you also know how Dark hates you trying to be delicate with him. It’s better to be honest, to know his reactions are not for you, but for his situation. For Mark. So you suppress the desire to turn away from it, instead reaching across the bit of desk between you to touch his arm. He doesn’t react, apart from flicking his eyes to rest on your hand. Touching him like this, yours fades to take on the same black-and-white cast as his own.

“For what it’s worth, I’d want to celebrate it. I’m glad you’re here.” You squeeze him very gently, as if trying to impress that more fully into his mind. “And… they don’t really know you, but, I mean. I think they’d like you even more, want to celebrate you more, if they did.”

Dark is silent, gaze falling to a whorl of wood in his polished desk as he considers your words. He doesn’t immediately reply and you take your hand away, not wanting to be overly touchy-feely about the whole thing. Or, at least, you don’t want to be if that’s not what Dark wants. You’d be the first to console him, if you could, but it’s hard to get a read on what might help the man most. He lives in his head, unaccustomed to sharing much with the other egos, let alone someone who hasn’t directly been through what they have. Your position on the outside imposes a distance that even having worked so closely with him for so long hasn’t yet bridged. Still, you leave that door open for him whenever you gracefully can, whenever it doesn’t feel like you’re opening it to force him through.

You try show him he can walk through whenever he likes. If he likes.

The man shifts slightly, reaching out to adjust a small pile of papers. He puts them to rights, even though they’re already perfectly in line with each other. When he finally speaks, his voice is almost covered by its own deep echo.

“If I am honest, I meant more… why would they celebrate the man they see, the ‘Darkiplier’ in his works? He is not a good man, by any means. He tells the truth, Mark’s confidence in himself sees to that. But they do not know it. He seems to seek to trap the audience through lies, manipulation… I simply do not understand the appeal.” You feel a little caught out, wondering if you jumped a bit too eagerly on his statement as a chance to comfort him. “However…”

He stops, realizing he’s run out of papers to arrange, things to fidget with. Folding his colorless hands in front of him, he finally and intentionally turns to look your way. It’s a slow, steady motion, heavy with purpose. When you meet his intensely contrasted eyes, they fall gently on you. His expression is open, almost bare. Devoid of any bitterness, frustration - his usual armor.

“...it is incredibly kind of you to say that. About me. I. I sincerely appreciate it.”

The hesitancy in his voice, yet how honestly he continues on, intent on telling you this… It’s enough to break your heart. You give him a tender smile.

“You’re not exactly that man in those videos, Dark. Not the way he has you play it, know you well enough to tell that… But even if you were, you have reason enough for it, I’d wager.”

That gets you a wry smile from the man. “Enough reason to pull ourselves back from the dead?”

You laugh, softly. “Yeah, something like that.” At your mirth, the lines of his body begin to relax, and he eases back into his seat somewhat. It’s a rare sight, Dark letting himself relax, be still for a moment. Even his aura, ever-roiling, merely seems to ebb and flow around him in gentle pulses. His mouth stays gently turned up as he looks at nothing in particular, gaze easy on some middle distance. You can tell he’s thinking, even at minor peace like this, but has no real intention to speak again. Sensing the Big Heart-To-Heart Moment™ has passed, you sigh and look back over your sparse notes. “Should we get back to it, though? I totally derailed us.”

Dark pauses a bit longer in the moment before he idly waves a hand and reaches out to close the lid of his computer. “There is nothing interesting this week, really. I think we can call it there, unless you are especially invested in head-exploding physics.” You pull a face.

“Not particularly. I can finish going over it later, anyway. Just in case.” You stretch and twist in your chair with a sigh. “Think I’ll make some coffee - can I get you a cup?”

“Are you going to use the cafetiere?”

“No, I thought the Mr. Coffee would be better. Really gets it nice and watery, just like you like.” Dark scrunches up his nose in the most totally undignified way, and god that makes you belly-laugh, bending slightly over the desk to support yourself. It breaks him, getting a real smile to curl over his face. He can be such a goofball, when he wants to be. “Of course I was gonna use the cafetiere. Who do you take me for?”

“I have to check, I have had many a disappointing cup after agreeing too eagerly. But yes, I will take one, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“None at all,” you hum, coming down from your laughing fit. You make your way out of his office but before you can turn the corner, Dark calls your name, stopping you in the doorway. You look back to him, and he seems… at ease. His hands are folded across his middle, he’s resting back in his desk chair. The ghost of a smile is still on his face. You try to bottle that moment, preserve it mentally. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. Again. And…” He hesitates for a beat, making some decision. “If you or the others would like to do something. On the day. My… sort-of birthday… I would not be opposed.”

You force your jaw to stay in place and not hit the floor. Wilford will go ballistic. You don’t know if the mustachioed ego will be able to handle the thought of throwing Dark a real birthday party - he might just explode in a haze of confetti and glitter stars. Blinking, you right yourself, finding your head nodding before you even know what it’s doing.

“I. Y-Yeah! Sure, we. We could definitely do that. Do… something.” Dark just smiles a little more fully, exhaling a laugh. “I’ll. I’ll talk to them about it.”

Holy shit.

“Wonderful. It will be nice to have a reason to have a proper party. Something to celebrate. Don’t you think?” You’re nodding again, agreeing wholeheartedly, but dazedly, too. You don’t realize you’re just standing there sort of staring until Dark tilts his head thoughtfully to one side. “Is… coffee still happening?”

“Huh?” You remember. “Oh. Oh! Shi- I mean, shoot. I mean. Yes. Yeah. I. Coffee, yes. I’m… gonna do that.”

As you beat a hasty and red-faced retreat to the kitchen, bursting with ideas, you can just make out the man giving the faintest, echoing chuckle.

---

You don’t think you’ve ever felt such pure excitement in the Manor before. The air is practically buzzing with pure, unbridled energy as you approach Dark’s office door. Downstairs, you can hear the egos making final preparations underneath Wilford’s speaking in an overly dramatic tone, giving some kind of grand speech. Likely a rallying of the troops into being on their best behavior for their de facto leader. You can’t help a smile and a shake of your head - maybe he’d take his own advice tonight.

Either way, everything is ready, so you rap on the birthday boy’s outer office door. He’d graciously locked himself away after retrieving his morning coffee so you would all have the space to prepare. Of course, he hadn’t escaped early-morning birthday wishes from you and the Host, nor a fresh-cut bouquet of flowers you two had collected for him. You’d even carried them up to his office for him, just so he wouldn’t have to touch them himself and risk draining their color. The memory of how sort of bashful he’d looked, the you really shouldn’t have energy that had rolled off him as he directed you to set them on his desk - it makes you grin in anticipation for this evening as he calls for you to enter, now.

He’s sitting by the fireplace, apparently killing time with a book which he looks up from as you enter. An inquiring look pulls his brow. “All prepared?”

“Oh yes. Your party awaits you, sir.” Dark huffs a laugh and rises, setting his book aside. He’s dressed a bit differently, still in slacks and a tie but with the addition of a waistcoat closely fit over his dress shirt, which is slightly rolled up over his forearms. Then he begins to fix them, going for his jacket, and you have to interject. “Are you really going to wear a full suit to your party?”

Dark stops, looking confused. And a little concerned. “I. Was intending to, yes.”

Oops. “I mean, you always wear a suit,” you chide as gently as you can. “They look nice, but the whole point is celebrating, relaxing a little? Besides, you look nice just like that.” Dark pauses, casting a look over himself. He absently adjusts his waistcoat, and you notice a thin chain connected to one of the buttons loops into one pocket. Has he always had a pocket watch?

“You are certain it is not too… casual.” He almost sounds worried, the poor thing. You give him a reassuring smile as you approach, picking up his jacket and folding it with care before hanging it over your arm.

“I’ll bring it down, but I think you’ll be more comfortable like that. Though you aren’t totally dressed, yet.” The man gives you an utterly baffled look, and you grin in response, bringing out a brightly colored party hat. His look sours immediately.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on.”

“No. I am already being made to go down undressed, I will not go with bells on.”

Sometimes you forget he’s just a grumpy grandpa. You pull out the big guns. “Well… we’re all wearing them,” you hum, your own firmly in place. “Besides, Wilford insisted. And he’s the Decoration Czar. Self-proclaimed, but he rules with an iron fist.” Dark makes a valiant effort to hold onto his resolve, but it weakens in the face of you invoking the mustachioed man. With a soft, amorphous grumble, he pulls the elastic band of the hat under his chin.

Now that you understand a little more about how Dark and Wilford had come to be, their bond makes a lot more sense, even for all Dark’s frustrated looks shot the more light-hearted man’s way in the midst of meetings. Even before you knew the depth of their bond, Dark had always seemed surprisingly willing to go along with Wilford’s more doable requests, less inclined to irritatedly snip at him for his foolishness. As Dark adjusts his party hat in a nearby mirror (making sure his well-coiffed hair isn’t too disturbed by his headwear), you’re glad that, although Wilford may not fully be aware of it, the two of them have each other.

He drops his hands with a sigh. “I look ridiculous.” He’s positioned the cone-shaped hat directly pointing up in the middle of his head, and. Well. It looks way too proper, but very Dark all at once. You chuckle, coming close to help.

“You should see the den. It’s a wreck,” you tease, reaching for his hat, giving the man enough time to wave you off. But he doesn’t, just watching you in the mirror as you adjust it (careful of his curls) to a more jaunty angle. His aura has already absorbed the color from it, but it looks party-appropriate. More importantly, Dark seems a bit more at ease as he gets used to how it looks. You wonder if he’s ever worn a party hat in his life. “There, much better.”

“Hm. Then I suppose I am ready.”

“As you’ll ever be. C’mon, they’re all waiting.” When he turns from the mirror, you playfully offer him your arm. You think you’ll get an eyeroll, a dismissive but amused huff at best. You aren’t anticipating him looping his arm in yours and giving you this little smile that warms his eyes and has you pulling up short. He chuckles somewhat at your reaction, your lack of movement.

“I thought I was being escorted.”

“Uh. You. You are, oh, you definitely are, hold on to your socks, you’re about to experience the best escorting of your life.” Dark’s free hand comes up to help suppress the grin that threatens to split his face as you lead him from the office and down to the almost overwhelmingly decorated den. While the room is comfortably illuminated by a variety of the Manor’s most colorful lamps, the light is somewhat low and catches on the sparkling garlands heavily draped on the walls. Matching balloons bob at varying intervals and a rousing cheer goes up as you and Dark enter, a flood of grins turning your way. Music cuts on - something upbeat and jazzy - and the flock of egos quickly descends on the object of celebration, Wilford leading the charge and pressing a drink into the man’s hand after a massive bear hug. You release Dark’s arm to let the crowd of other egos at him, covering him in birthday wishes and affectionate pats on the back (their boldness inspired by Wilford, no doubt), before eagerly showing off all their preparations.

While Yancy explains the variety of possible games he’s worked up, getting a horribly wry grin out of the shadowy man at his creation of ‘pin the cravat on the Actor,’ you step back a bit to make sure Dark’s suit jacket is safely out of the way of the night’s oncoming revelry. Clearly, he’s already forgotten it, much to your pleasure. The bar is lined up with a few drink options, pre-made cocktails and bottles of wine opened to breathe, a number of elegantly arranged finger foods courtesy of resident chef Google Alpha. Carefully, you tuck Dark’s jacket under the bar in an empty shelf and before scooping up a drink of your own and tossing yourself back into the fray.

It goes a lot more smoothly than you had anticipated - everyone quickly falls into comfortable conversation, dipping into the snacks and games when it lulls. Wilford manages to keep his pants on despite threatening to provide a different kind of ‘entertainment’ at one point (and in spite of encouraging whistles from Bing and the Jims, who are quick to shove a camera in Wil’s direction). Further, Dark survives having ‘Happy Birthday’ sung to him, even blowing out the single candle in the middle of the complicated-looking tiramisu Alpha crafted.

It’s a rousing success, by all measures.

By the time you finally get a chance to sidle back up to Dark, the easy hum of the party has kicked up to a bit more of an excitable buzz as the jazz records have turned more and more swinging. Yandere and Illinois clearly know what they’re doing, beating a quick step around the open dance floor and grinning like bandits as Yancy does his best to help poor Eric get over the hurdle of not staring at your feet when you dance. The Manor feels more full than it usually does, with all of you crowded in the one room together, and you can see the warm, pure energy of it all is having a similar effect on Dark as it is on you - you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so much, small as they are.

Another thought hits you, even better than the one that prompted this whole affair. Grinning, you quickly gesture over the nearest Google. With the music like it is, it’s hard to speak over the ruckus, but you mime taking a picture and Green gets the idea, his glasses getting a particular sheen to them so you know he’s flipping through his interface. Once he gives you a thumbs up, you gently tug Dark down by the arm and gesture in Green’s direction. “Say ‘cheese,’” you prompt, and the shadowy man pulls a face.

“I don’t think-”

“Oh, just one, Dark, c’mon,” you poke. “He’s set up and everything.” With a sort of resigned huff, the man twists and gets his free arm around you, hand resting carefully on your back as you get yours around him, bringing him in closer.

Then, almost in your ear, you hear his very dour voice say, “Cheese...” and it breaks you. You’re busting out laughing, forcing yourself not to double over or spill your drink, and over the music and your own laughter, you can hear Dark chuckling, the subsequent snap of Green’s camera feature. The latter catches the most attention, the gathered egos coming running as soon as they realize pictures are happening.

Suddenly, everyone wants in, smushing in as close as they can get to you and Dark, bickering when elbows ‘accidentally’ find soft sides and someone worms in front of someone else, Green taking pictures all the while of the ensuing chaos. Dark’s aura is starting to rouse from its relatively peaceful state when you decide it’s gone on long enough. You quickly clap and break up the worst of the infighting, getting folks arranged as best you can. By the time you finish and most everyone is settled, Dark is wearing a very betrayed look and Wilford’s heavy arm, which is hugging him quite close to his side. With a playful shrug, you pick your way back to your spot.

“I thought you said one,” he grumps softly even as you both get your arms situated comfortably around the other.

“You believed me?” His eyes get a bit wide - you trick Dark? You trick him into photograph like the child? - but you turn away with a triumphant smile. “Green, set your glasses on the bar, get in!”

The android quickly obliges, setting the timer and sliding in among his copies as he counts you down. “Okay,” you call, “everyone say ‘Darkling!’”

The cacophony of laughter and broken-up attempts at the word is something you’ll never forget.

---

Google sends you the photos the next morning, as the Manor collectively attempts to nurse minor to severe hangovers. Flipping through and marking the best ones to print and frame, you get to see the first one of the two of you.

In it, you’re hugging each other close, smiling warmly into the camera. There are garlands blurred in the background and you’re holding a fancy drink, tugging Dark into frame. That slightly embarrassed tinge is gone from his smile, but he still looks cajoled, still smiles as affectionately as he ever has. There’s no doubt he’s changed - the photo warps to try to capture his existence, red and blue fragments breaking up the image - but his expression is still warm. And you look so pleased with yourself, so amused, eyes dancing with success and joy.

Full of life.

It pulls a smile out of you.

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Friday: Sparks

note: wrapping it up today with part five of ‘A week with Chris’. This was so much fun, thanks to everyone who followed along :) enjoy the fluff

(you can find the other parts here)

words: 1.6 k (this is definitely not drabble-sized anymore but I couldn’t help myself)

warnings: swearing

(Thursday, 7:11 pm)

Hey there, here are the pictures I took today, I figured you’d want them. CC

(attached: 23 images)

(Thursday, 7:13)

I almost forgot, meet me at 47-01 111th Street (that’s in Queens) tomorrow at 11 am. CC

(Thursday, 7:38)

By the way, I had a wonderful time today. Have a good night, Y/N. Chris

+++

(Friday)

On the subway ride to Queens, you re-read the messages Chris had sent you last night. The fact that he wrote you another one just to tell you that he enjoyed spending time with you made you immensely happy, and you could see the reflection of your silly grin in the subway window.

You were nervous about today, even more so than the times before. You felt like something had shifted between the two of you in the park yesterday, and you weren’t sure in which direction you were moving with Chris. There was an undeniable spark between the two of you, but he was still very much your boss.

The speaker announced the arrival at your destination, and with a sight, you got up from your seat. You would just roll with it, you thought, and deal with things as they developed.

+++

Like the days before, Chris was already there and waiting for you.

“Morning.” You greeted him. “No coffee today?”

“It’s already 11, I assumed by now you’d be awake enough to tackle today without caffeine.” He replied with a smirk.

“That totally depends on your plans. Spill, what are we doing today?”

“This is my favorite place in the whole city.” Chris said. “The New York City Science Hall, it’s something like an interactive museum, they have exhibitions rooms and a cinema, it’s great.”

“Sounds fun, I’m in.”

+++

“Chris, why are there so many children in here?”

You looked around the entrance hall of the museum with a puzzled look on your face, surrounded by what looked like an entire elementary school, all babbling and laughing. They were creating such an immense amount of background noise that you had to raise your voice to talk to Chris.

“Oh, a lot of the stuff here is intended for children, to teach them about science.” He replied with a grin “But it’s fun for everyone. Lighten up a bit, Y/N.”

“But why exactly is this your favorite spot in town?” you asked, eying the noisy kids around you warily.

Chris face got serious.

“My father used to take me here when I was a child. I grew up in the neighborhood down the street, and some of my best memories are from here, especially with him.”

You felt a pang of guilt in your chest at hearing how quiet Chris voice had become.

Of course you were aware about his father and how much he meant to him, and now you felt like a fool for talking about the place with that kind of disregard. Pulling yourself together, you gave Chris your most convincing smile and linked his arm with yours.

“Let’s make some new memories then. Come on, old man, I want to learn something.”

+++

“Ouch, god damnit.” you cursed, holding your hand in pain. You were trying to light a fire the stone-age way in one of the interactive exhibit rooms, and a spark had burnt your finger.

“Excuse me, ma’am, could you watch your language, there are children present.” one of the guards called your way, and you got beet red when a lot of small heads turned to you.

Chris snickered beside you. “Yes, Y/N, watch your mouth around the kids.” He whispered.

“Shut up, Cuomo. There shouldn’t even be kids here, this is super dangerous. Also I wouldn’t joke if I were you. You look ridiculous.” He really did, his massive frame was crouched in front of small the fireplace, looking even larger between all the children, and there were smashes of ash all over his shirt.

“You’re only jealous that my fire is already burning.” He grinned. You only flipped him the bird in return.

+++

Despite your earlier skepticism, you were having a great time. After several futile attempts of lighting a fire, you dragged Chris to see movie about space in the museums 3D cinema. You sat close enough for your knees to touch occasionally, and at some point, you were deliberately brushing your leg against his, smiling to yourself when he didn’t move away.

At first, you had been embarrassed about revealing your childish, overly excited side to Chris, but he showed zero judgement, acting silly and goofing around with you in a way you never thought was possible for such a serious person. The hours flew by while you were doing every activity the museum had to offer, and it was already late afternoon by the time you made your way towards the exit.

“Look, Chris, they have a photo booth.”

“Dear God, not again.” Chris groaned beside you, but you had already grabbed his sleeve and dragged him towards the box, basically pushing him inside.

“This won’t work.” You complained. “Its way to narrow in here, and you are too big.”

“Easy.” Chris grinned, sitting down on the small bench and pulled you to sit on his knee. Your mind was going into overdrive at being so close to him, and when he said “Smile!” and the flash announced the first picture being taken, you were still looking slightly bewildered.

“Quick, pose!” Chris whispered, and you just stuck out your tongue at the camera.

Suddenly, a huge arm got wrapped around you, pulling you close to the body beside you. You and Chris were basically cheek to cheek now, and you could feel your face burning up.

A sudden surge of boldness went through you, and you turned your head, pressing your lips to Chris cheek just as the last picture was taken.

Instantly, you became embarrassed, why had you done this? You bolted out of the booth, muttering “I need to use the toilet, be right back.”

In the restroom, you splashed cold water on your face until the flush disappeared, then braced yourself to face Chris again. He was standing next to the booth, holding the pictures you had just taken.

“We look cute.” He grinned, and you felt incredibly relieved about the lack of awkwardness. Appaerently, he didn’t mind the peck on the cheek.

“We really do.” You replied, and your heart sped up as he gave you a brilliant smile.

“So, to round up your perfect Cuomo week, I have another surprise planed. My car is just around the corner, let’s go.”

+++

Chris drove you back to Manhattan and parked his car in the garage of a huge apartment building on the Upper West Side. Your mind was reeling, was he taking you to his place?

You were too nervous to ask, riding the elevator with Chris in silence. You went all the way up, almost to the top floor.

“This one’s mine.” Chris announced as you stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway.

You entered the apartment, and your jaw almost hit the floor.

“This is where you live?”

It was gorgeous, a huge, open space, illuminated by the golden light of the setting sun. The floorlenght windows offered an amazing view of the Manhattan skyline.

“Wow, I’m definitely jealous.” You joked, still a bit overwhelmed by the place.

“Uhm, if you’d like to, the terrace is a pretty good place to watch the sunset.” Chris said, rubbing his neck almost as if he was nervous.

“I love sunsets.” You said, following Chris to the glass door that led to the outdoor space. He was right, the view was amazing, beams of orange light reflected by the countless glass facades around you.

Chris cleared his throat next to you, and you teared your eyes away from the sky to look at him.

“This week has been great, Y/N, I’m really glad you agreed to doing all this stuff with me, and I really hope you enjoyed it as much as I did .” His voice was oddly emotional, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I had the best time, Chris, and I can’t thank you enough for all the effort and time you put into everything. I loved every moment.” you replied, returning his look with a soft smile.

Slowly, his hand reached out, brushing against your arm before cupping your cheek. You held your breath, unable to move a muscle, your heart beating incredibly fast.

Like in slow motion, he lowered his head, his face coming closer and closer until his lips finally settled onto yours. It was a feather light touch, almost shy in a way you hadn’t expected from your usually brusque boss.

You returned the kiss, softly moving your lips against his, you hand reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his.

“This was so fucking cheesy.” You whispered after breaking the kiss, trying to calm your racing pulse a bit.

“Yeah, but it worked, didn’t it?” Chris replied with a small chuckle.

“I wanted to do this since Tuesday.” He continued, voice more serious now.

“That’s funny, me too.” you responded, still sounding slightly breathy. Your heart was almost jumping out of your chest, was this really happening?

“We should do it again then.” Chris murmured, leaning down to capture your lips once more.

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, the chilly air making you shiver.

“You’re cold.” Chris noted, wrapping his arm around you. “Let’s get you inside. I’m making dinner.”

You snuggled up to him, thinking that maybe you should write a thank-you note to the CNN bosses for giving you the week off.

The end (I think)

[myownsuperintendent]

Fic: “Shake It Like a Polaroid Picture”

As they are coming back together as a couple, Mulder and Scully experiment with taking sexy pictures. Set during Season 11, rated M for sexual content. Also here on Ao3.

.....

“Missed you today,” Scully says, when the two of them are sitting together over dinner. She smiles at him, touches his hand.

It makes Mulder so happy to hear her say it, after he’s been missing her for what feels like forever. He knows she missed him too, in the days they were apart—she told him as much, quietly, in the still morning hours, one of the first times they were together again, still finding their way. He knows that now. But when it was actually happening, it felt like she was a million miles away. He would imagine her without him, better than ever, finally perfectly happy. So it means a lot, to hear her says she missed him now, when they haven’t even been apart for twenty-four hours.

“I missed you too,” he says, because it’s true.

“I was thinking about you,” she says. There’s a little bit of a flush on her cheeks, and her voice is low. He knows her well enough that he doesn’t need to ask what kind of thinking she was doing.

“Yeah?” he says. “That’s…that’s intriguing, Scully.” Sometimes she still makes him inarticulate.

She’s smiling. “Can you blame me?” she asks. “After this weekend?” She has a fair point: they did spend most of the weekend in bed, getting very well reacquainted. She even spent the night on Saturday, although she went home on Sunday. It’s a progression, right now. He hopes they’ll eventually make it the whole way, is starting to believe they really will. “I even thought about texting you a dirty picture,” she says, in the same tone she used earlier to ask him how much salad he wanted, and that he did not expect.

“Oh,” he says. “I…Can I ask why you didn’t follow through?”

“Yeah,” she says, laughing now. “I thought about the cloud and I chickened out.”

“Entirely reasonable,” he says.

“You know, that’s what I love about you,” she says. “You have a healthy fear of being watched.”

“I do,” he said. “On the other hand, I’m reasonably certain we’re not being watched now. Are you finished eating?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Scully in the flesh is better than any picture. A picture can’t engage all five of his senses, can’t moan his name, can’t move against him in a way that feels as right as breathing air. And it can’t lean against him when they’re done, receptive to soft kisses, eventually murmuring, “Is it all right if I stay? For tonight?”

“You know it is, Scully,” he says, and as she’s drifting off to sleep next to him he allows himself to imagine that for tonight isn’t part of the equation. That it’s for all the nights.

And then he thinks about what she said earlier, about dirty pictures. They’ve never exchanged any: maybe it really is all that surveillance, making them leery. He carried a picture of her with him all through 2001 and 2002, when they were apart, but there wasn’t anything dirty about it in the slightest: she was fully clothed, in a green sweater and slacks, sitting on his couch, a smile on her face. The picture was from 2000, when their romantic relationship was still new; he’d loved knowing he could make her smile like that. (He still did.) And he’d carried that picture until it was crinkled and faded, feeling like it was all he had of her, sometimes. It was still in his office, now.

But dirty pictures were another thing entirely, and he can’t say he isn’t intrigued at the thought, wasn’t imagining what this hypothetical picture Scully could have sent would have been like. Would it have given just a hint of the erotic, or would it have left nothing to the imagination? Either possibility would have its attractions, and he’s half hard just thinking about them. But she’s right. There is the cloud.

Not that phones are the only way you can take pictures. You almost forget that sometimes, nowadays, but it’s true. Maybe they could…He has an idea.

He waits to bring it up with Scully until that Friday, though, when they have a whole weekend stretching ahead of them. She’s at the house for dinner again. She’s at the house for dinner most nights, now, and sometimes he still makes something special, but sometimes she insists that it’s her turn to cook, and sometimes they get take-out, and sometimes they just have leftovers. Sometimes Mulder tries to play it cool, like he doesn’t notice what’s happening, but then Scully smiles at him and he forgets about that.

Tonight, they have lasagna. “So I was thinking about what you said the other day,” he says, “about dirty pictures.”

“Oh?” she says, raising an eyebrow at him. “You better not try to make me ignore the cloud against my better judgment.”

“I’d never do such a thing,” Mulder says. “No, I was thinking…old school. Very old school. Not even digital.”

“You want to take dirty pictures on film?” she asks. “And who would be developing them?”

“We would,” he says. “Right in the moment.” And as she looks at him inquiringly, he adds, “I found an old Polaroid camera.”

She laughs. “Wow. I’d heard they were hip again, but I haven’t used one of those in ages.” Then she’s quiet, turning back to her dinner. Mulder’s sure that she’s as aware as he is that she hasn’t really given him any kind of response to the idea.

“Of course we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says. “I was just thinking…we’ve never done it and it might be fun. Might be more than fun, really.”

“I didn’t think you were going to try to force me into it,” Scully says. “I was just taking a minute to think, that’s all.” She puts down her fork. “What are you going to do with the pictures once we’ve taken them?”

“I don’t know,” he says; he hasn’t really thought it through in that kind of practical detail. “Keep them to look at, I guess. You can have some too, if you want.”

“Why would I want to look at pictures of myself?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

She gives him a look. “No,” she says. “No, if we’re going to do this, it’ll go both ways. You can take pictures of me,” she clarifies, “and I’ll take pictures of you.”

He hadn’t thought about that, but it’s erotic too, in its own way. Scully on the other side of the camera, directing him in what to do. “All right,” he says. “Deal.”

“Deal,” she says. “Tonight?”

“If you’re ready.”

“Sure, I’m always ready,” she says.

.....

“Okay, I lied,” Scully says half an hour later, poking her head out of the bathroom. “I’m not always ready.”

“We don’t have to do this,” Mulder says. “Maybe it was a dumb idea.”

“No,” she says, coming out of the bathroom now; she still has a robe on, belted tightly. “No, it wasn’t a dumb idea, Mulder. I’m just…weirdly nervous about it.”

“Which part?” he asks. “Committing your body eternally to film?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “No. I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. No, not about the pictures themselves. More about taking them.”

“It’s just me,” he says. “You don’t have to be…am I making you nervous?”

“No, not really,” she says. “And I know it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. But it just feels different. Having you see me when we’re together and having you…just look. And take pictures.”

“That makes sense, I think,” he says. “We can start slow, if you want. Nothing too explicit.” She doesn’t say anything, so he tries to think of another suggestion. “Or you can take the first one,” he says, holding the camera out to her.

She looks at him and then takes it in her hands. “Yeah,” she says, “I’ll do that.”

As soon as she’s holding the camera he sees what she meant, about it feeling different. He doesn’t want to take off his robe either, which is ridiculous; Scully’s seen him in numerous states of undress, but it’s never felt quite this focused, this calculated. “Now I’m the one who’s nervous,” he says.

“We can stop if you want,” she says. “Put the camera away.” But even if it’s making him nervous, there’s also something he likes about the look on her face, about the way her eyes are darkening as they flit from him to the camera in her hands.

“No,” he says. “No, I don’t want to stop.”

“Then we can start slow, like you said,” Scully says. “Lie on the bed, but keep your robe on.”

He nods, not feeling ready to speak at the moment, and lies down. He’s not sure how she wants him, so he poses like a pin-up girl, hands behind his head, one knee coyly bent.

Scully bursts out laughing. “Damnit,” she says, “this was your idea and now you’re not taking it seriously.”

“Why should we be serious?” he asks. “I told you, Scully, I wanted this to be fun. Are you not having fun?”

“Yeah,” Scully says, “I’m having lots of fun,” and she takes the picture then, before he was expecting it.

“Hey!” he says, but they both know he’s not mad. She stands there shaking the picture, the other hand on her hip, the camera around her neck. When it appears, she holds it out to show him.

It’s not really sexy in any sense of the word, Mulder thinks, although on the other hand he’s not particularly interested in looking at pictures of himself. It’s just him, lying back, smiling at her, goofing around. But the ice has been broken.

“Your turn,” he says, and she hands the camera to him and goes to lie down on the bed. Somehow the same pose is much sexier when she’s doing it.

“Will you…take off your robe,” she says, when he hands the camera back. He likes the way her voice falls, making it a statement rather than a question, a slight hint of bossiness. She’s getting into this, even if it was his idea, and she’s finding ways to up the stakes.

He takes it off—he’s wearing just his boxers now—and when he’s moving towards the bed, she coaches him like this is some high-stakes photo shoot. “Sit on the edge. About an inch to the right. Good. Now put your hands on your knees. Lean forwards.” And, just when he’s starting to get really turned on, “Oh, yeah, give me those bedroom eyes.” Now he’s both turned on and laughing, which has happened with her more times than he can count over the years, and which he’s convinced is an underrated state. She’s laughing too. He hears the click of the shutter again.

She doesn’t take her robe off all the way for the next picture, but she pulls the sides apart, revealing just enough of her breasts. If she’d ever texted him that, he knows he would have forgotten all about whatever he was doing. Her hair’s falling into her face, her eyes peeking out. She’s not laughing now, but she’s still smiling. A sexy little smile. He stares through the viewfinder, almost forgetting to take the picture.

“It’s a little unfair, Scully,” he says, when it’s his turn to pose again. “I’m already a lot more undressed than you are.”

“I know,” she says. “Keep your boxers on for this one, if you want.”

He keeps them on and reclines with his legs angled towards her. He rests one hand on his crotch, strokes himself lightly through the fabric. He can hear her breathing.

Another picture.

She sheds her robe, then; she’s wearing light blue underpants, and her hair loose over her shoulders, and nothing in between. She makes eye contact with him as she brings her hands slowly up to her breasts, cupping them, her thumbs running over her nipples.

“Mulder.” Her voice is soft, aroused, affectionate. “Take the picture.”

He does.

She gets up from the bed and takes the camera from him. Their hands linger a little more than necessary in the changeover. He sheds his boxers then—quickly, before he can think about it too much, because there’s still a bit of strangeness in being preserved on film this way—and kneels on the bed.

“Oh,” Scully says softly. “That’s good.” Her eyes are on him, on all of him. He only gets harder at that.

And then she’s naked too, for the next picture. “What do you want me to do?” she asks, as she goes over to the bed.

“Lots of things,” he says.

“For the picture,” she says.

“Then…touch yourself for me,” he says, and she does, her hand dipping between her legs, her eyes never moving from him.

He’s not sure how much film is left in the camera, and he barely gets to the bed before she grabs it back from him and pulls him down with her. “Smile,” she says, and then she’s holding the camera out for what is doubtless a very skewed selfie, and then she puts it down on the bedside table and kisses him with all the pent-up passion that, when you think about it, a session of taking sexy polaroids is bound to produce. He returns the kiss, his hands grabbing at her hair, and they fall back on the bed then, hands and mouths everywhere. Looking is amazing. Touching is even better.

Afterwards, they look through the pictures together, lying back among the sheets. She’s the most erotic sight he’s ever seen, of course. He doesn’t think the pictures of him are quite on that level (although when he says so, Scully says, “I think you’re very sexy, Mulder,” and it still feels like hearing her tell him she wanted him for the first time), but there is an appeal to them, to knowing Scully took them.

They did this together, that’s the main thing. Tonight he got her see her face in laughter and in lust, and that’s not something he’ll ever take for granted. Especially not now.

He holds up the last picture, the one of both of them. The top of his head is a little bit cut off, but Scully managed to capture both of their faces, her cheek pressed to his. “This came out better than I expected,” he says.

“Mmm,” she says. “You should have more faith in me.”

“I should,” he agrees, and he kisses her. “Do you want this one? When we split them up?”

She’s quiet for a minute, and then she puts her hand on top of his. “Let’s not split them up,” she says. “Let’s keep them all here.”

His heart leaps at that, but he doesn’t want to assume. “Do you mean…do you not want any or…?”

“I want some,” Scully says. “But I want to keep mine here. With us. I want to be here.” Her voice is determined, but there’s a little shyness in her eyes.

“Well,” he says, “I think that that’s the best idea anyone’s come up with all night.”

“Aww,” she says, and now she’s smiling. “Better than sexy polaroids?”

“Much,” he says. She kisses him slowly, and he holds her close. The pictures and the camera are still there, next to their bed.

[madeofitzits]

In honor of the impending return of Brooklyn 99, here are 99 reasons that...

1. He was precocious enough to know, at 5 years old, that he wanted to change his name (x)

 2. He has a bunch of nicknames: Sandy Amberg, Young Sandwich, etc. but the most endearing one is 'Droidy', his family's name for him (x) 

3. He is still super close friends with people he's known since: Elementary School (Chelsea Peretti) (x)...

4. Junior High/High School (Kiv and Jorm) (x) 

5. … Summer Camp (Irene Neuwirth) (x)

7.  ...and Film School (Chester Tam) (x)

8. Before he met Joanna, he dated other famous ladies but - out of respect - he never discussed it/them (x) 

9. He loves turtles and tortoises. When he was a kid, he had a pet turtle that he named 'Squirt' because the first time he held it, it peed on him. His Mom, Margie, accidentally killed Squirt when Andy was at Summer camp... (x)

10. … Maybe this is why, when shooting 'Popstar', Andy fell hard for Maximus (Conner 4 Real's turtle). He says they "had a good thing going" and that he wanted to adopt him. In the end, he decided against it because there are a bunch of coyotes in his neighborhood and he was worried the little guy wouldn't be safe. (Popstar: DVD Commentary)

11. Speaking of his Mom, despite being a super private person, he appeared on 'Finding your Roots' so that he could help her track down her birth family (x)

12. When he succeeded he cried (although we never got to see it on camera) (x)

13. That's because, like all good boys, he loves his Mama which is why - as part of the same episode - he said "My mom is basically the kindest person I know… and many people would corroborate that" (x)

14. Andy's Sisters, Hannie (Johanna) and Darrow, used to make him wear diapers and put his hair in pigtails until he was 5 years old. He says he didn't mind because he just liked that they were paying attention to him (x)

15. That's why he sees his identity in comedy as being 'America's kid brother'. When he was young, he would annoy his sisters until they laughed and he claims to have been replicating that approach to entertainment ever since

16. Although a bunch of his characters have 'Daddy Issues', Andy definitely doesn't. He's super close with his Papa (Joe) and has said "he's a good man" and "the best Dad in the world" (x) 

17. Joe was Andy's youth soccer coach and in one scene in 'Hot Rod', Joe's favorite photograph can be seen in the background. It shows a very young Andy posing with a soccer ball, after "scoring the winning goal against Mersey" (x)

18. He's been a loyal Golden State Warriors fan since he was a little kid, living in Oakland (then Berkeley) and, in 2010, he correctly predicted that they would "win a Championship in my lifetime" (x) 

19. The proceeds from his Umami Burger ('The Samburger') went to a deafness early detection program in Berkeley. This cause is close to his heart because Margie uses hearing aids and used to work in the special needs program, teaching deaf kids (x)

20. He, Kiv, and Jorm have made multiple donations to their old school district, including $250 000 to its theater program (x)

21. On the subject of The Lonely Island; Andy always goes out of his way to make sure that everyone knows how much he owes to his buddies. For instance, he told Marc Maron, during his WTF appearance, that "I get a lot of credit for what Kiv and Jorm have done" (x)

22. He makes this face when he knows he’s said something naughty…

(Gif credit: @andrewsambags)

23. During his 'Wild Horses' appearance, he said that he can't watch scary movies because they freak him out too much. He told 'Complex' that he's still scared of 'The Shining' (x)...

24. … Similarly, when he was at UC Santa Cruz he worked at the Del Mar movie theater and he had a hard time coping with screenings of 'Species 2' (x)

25. He fell in love with Joanna, the moment he met her, when she greeted him by addressing him as 'Steve the C**t' (x)

 26. He listened to 'Ys', everyday for a year, before he and Joanna started dating (x)

27. He bought the original portrait that was used as the basis of the cover art for 'Ys' and gave it to Joanna as a Christmas present, so that she could hang it in her music room (x)

 28. He loves birds and goes hiking and birding with Joanna (x)

 29. Every new comment he makes about Joanna becomes an instant contender for 'most beautiful thing a person has ever said about their spouse' (x)

30. For example, he readily admits that Jake's iconic heart eyes are the result of him thinking about his amazing wife (x)

31. There are many stories about how incredibly romantic Andy and Joanna's wedding was and Jorm has said that it featured "the most magical vows I've ever heard" (x)

32. The Newsombergs now live in Charlie Chaplin's old house (x)

33. On the Emmys Red Carpet (2015), the year he hosted, they took a momentary break from posing for the world's press to whisper 'I love you' to each other (x)

34. At last year's Vanity Fair party, Andy carried Joanna's purse for her so she could grab a snack (x)

35. He was a semi-permanent fixture in the audience for her recent run of shows for the 'Strings/Keys Incident' tour, even officially confirming his status as the 'President of her Fan Club' (x)

36. He used his Golden Globes monologue to call out the government for framing and murdering the Black Panthers (x)

37. On the Carpet for the Guy's Choice Awards, he called the event "a ridiculous farce", adding that "men already have it so easy - it's insane that there's a show that celebrates them". That makes sense when you consider that he, Kiv and Jorm have made an entire career out of parodying toxic masculinity (x)

38. He once said that only "idiot-ass men" think that women aren't funny (x)

39. He’s been wearing glasses since 7th Grade and he has the most heartbreakingly cute habit of nudging them up his nose, (especially when he wears his Sol Moscot frames) (x)...

40. ... and of rubbing his eyes under them (x)

41. He barely ever wears glasses for roles but he also avoids contacts (because he doesn't like touching his eyeballs) which means he's almost always 'acting blind' (x)

42. He has worn his glasses in character a few times - as 'himself' ('Lady Dynamite'), as 'Paul' ('I Think You Should Leave') and during a very small number of SNL sketches (e.g. during his one appearance in a 'Gilly' with Kristen Wiig) (x) 

43. He can't tolerate glare and when that makes him squint it's a sight that's too cute for words (x)

44. He owns about six outfits and has been rotating them for well over a decade (x) 

45. He barely ever breaks during shooting/while performing, so when he does it's aggressively adorable. (x), (x)

46. He's a grown ass man who persuades people to come with him to the bathroom because if he goes by himself he'll get lonely (x)

47. He didn't announce he was leaving SNL, until after his last appearance, selflessly choosing not to detract from Kirsten Wiig's huge and emotional send-off (x) 

48. He undertook a quest to smell like Lorne Michaels (x) 

49. He's ageing like a fine wine (x)

50. To protect their daughter's privacy, Andy and Joanna never announced that they were expecting. They've never released their little girl's name or date of birth and most news outlets still report that they became parents in August 2017 (even though that's inaccurate) (x)

51. Although he's careful not to talk about his daughter often, sometimes he can't keep from gushing about her. For example, when asked about his first year of fatherhood he said: "It’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Just like a beautiful, incredible dream. It has surpassed every expectation I ever had. It’s definitely been very blissful" (x)

52. After their daughter was born, Andy and Joanna spent the first 40 days at home with her (in a practice known as 'confinement'). He's described it as being "a really special time". (x) 

53. Andy is famously mild-mannered but, when asked about what triggers his 'Dad claws', he admitted that if anyone attempted to touch his daughter, without permission, he'd "probably sock them hard in the face"…

54. ...Characteristically, he went on to add that he hopes that never happens, since he hasn't been in a fight since 6th Grade (x)

55. Cyndi Lauper was his first celebrity crush and he plays her record ('She's so unusual') for his daughter all the time. (x)

56. His is the very definition of a precious laugh (x)...

57. It's made even more wonderful by the way it makes his voice go high-pitched (x)

58.  … and the way it causes his eyebrow to rise involuntarily  

59. It's impossible not to smile at his impression of his Mom (x)

60. And laugh at his impression of John Mulaney (x)

61. He was so convinced he wouldn't win the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Comedy or Musical, that he didn't prepare a speech. Instead, as he explained to David Letterman, he "just went… and started drinking". The resulting list of improvised 'thank yous' was perfect in every way (x)

62. As producers, Andy, Kiv and Jorm have given life to some amazing projects ('Alone Together', 'Brigsby Bear', 'I Think You Should Leave')...

63. … and gone out of their way to support women in comedy ('Party Over Here', 'PEN15') (x)

64. As well as being a comedy legend, he's a super-talented dramatic actor, who gave the performance of a lifetime in 'Celeste and Jesse Forever' but, after the movie wrapped, and it was time to do press for it, he was straight back to goofing around (x) 

65. His lip bite should be illegal (x)

66. Even though he wears the same vanishingly small number of outfits, over and over, he has a vast collection of the most excellent socks (x)

67. He always gives 'editing notes' during his own interviews (x)

68. He has a super sweet and sincere way of thanking interviewers when they compliment him (x)

69. He adjusts his hoodie constantly (x)

70. The two most perfect Jake laughs in b99 are actually real Andy laughs 'https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=W38A_xuXaeg https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=sVm9nYrTWRQ

71. Virtually everyone who has ever worked with Andy has talked about what a wonderful person he is. This explains why so many of them have been involved with more than one of his projects (x)

72. It's not only his colleagues who talk about what a delight he is (x), (x)

73. This lovestruck fool wore his own wife's merch when he went out to dinner (x)

74. No one else uses the word 'dinky' quite like Andy (x). The same goes for 'snacky' (see point 70)

75. He does this with his tongue (x)

76. He still likes to play soccer but his eyesight is so bad that he has to keep his glasses on for it

77. When he lets his gorgeous floofy hair grow a little it sits perfectly over the arms of his glasses (x)

78. He gifted the world with Jakey's little curl (x)

79. At the James Franco Roast, he couldn't bring himself to be mean to anyone except himself (and Jeff Ross, a little!) (x)

80. In fact, he's always been willing to laugh at himself (x) and he still is (x)

81. He changes b99 scripts to make them more feminist (x)

82. Despite their humble insistence that they just benefited from 'good timing', the reality is that Andy, Kiv and Jorm (along with Chris Parnell) revolutionized digital media, when 'Lazy Sunday' popularized YouTube, increasing its traffic by 85% overnight (x)

83. He once attended the Vanity Fair party because his Mom told him to (x)

84. He has an amazing way of subtly but firmly shutting down inappropriate questions, like when this interviewer suggested that Holt being gay was something that could have been played for laughs https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=idQsYQfkR5o

85. He auditioned for SNL at the same time as Bill Hader. Hader thought he'd blown it because Andy had a bunch of props and Bill had none. In the meantime, Andy thought he'd blown it when he saw Hader and realized 'this guy doesn't need any props' (x) 

86. His bromance with Seth Meyers is one for the ages (x)

87. Every single second of this video is proof of why Andy, Kiv and Jorm deserve the world (x)

88. He once dragged Mulaney up on stage for SNL Goodnights, even though writers weren't allowed to join in (x)

89. He has a hilarious phobia of pooping anywhere except his own bathroom (x) 

90. His beautiful, beautiful, face: His smile (radiant), his eyes (caramel - hella disarming), his ears (adorably asymmetrical), his nose (perfect), His chin (the dimple… *swoon*), his jaw (could cut glass), The 'Sambeard' (another amazing layer of pretty) (x)

91. His body: His butt (x), his thighs, (x) his soft lil tummy (The ‘Sambelly’) (x), his hands. (x), his arms (x), his hips…

(Gif credit: @amystiago /@badpostandy on Twitter)

92. All signs point to the fact that, like Jake, Andy uses his glasses case as a wallet (x) 

93. Jake's "cool-cool-cool-cool-cool-cool" is an irl Andy-ism that the writers worked into b99 scripts. What's even better is that Joanna does it, too (x)

94. He has a really good arm and is low key competitive, which is super hot https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=e32K_nBDy3Q

95. He's one half of the cutest Red Carpet pose of all time (x)

96. He barely ever seems to get mad but if angry Jake is anything to go by, maybe he should... (x)

97. He's a huge nerd, who geeks out over GOT, LOTR, 'Star Wars', 'Alien(s)' and anything relating to time travel (x), (x)

98. He has a gorgeous speaking voice, especially when he’s tired or a little sick. (Bonus points for any time he uses the word ‘correct’. See point 30) (x) 

99. He’s still so committed to his b99 fans and fam, even after all this time and is as excited as the rest of us that...

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 29: Light + Week Orb/Reanimate - Exorcists Can’t Save Me Now Chap.2:  Dolly Hearts

You know what’s happening here, but with a bonus of the creepy possessed doll trope.

Tucker sits on the floor, leaning his back against the doll, “I know this is some crazy cool stuff dude, but somehow I doubt Other-Danny can really appreciate this”.

Danny just rolls his eyes, he still does get a bit of a kick out of the nickname they gave It being ‘Other-Danny’; thank you Coraline and Sam’s love of Tim Burton. Least she wasn’t still trying to give It button eyes, though Danny’s got no idea where all the buttons kept disappearing to. He’s honestly genuinely suspiciously Dammy ate them or absorbed them or something. Magic was weird. Probably bugged his parents that he believed the whole ‘magic doll’ thing over the ‘ghosts are real’ thing. But Dammy literally grew and stuff, kinda hard to ignore that. He has yet to see a freaking ghost.

Sam shakes her old school camera, “just get over here you goof, time to look stupid for the camera”. Danny sticks his tongue out at her before posing. Which yeah, probably looks stupid.

Tucker watches Danny walk in the giant creation with a small smile, all this tech stuff was so cool! Though glancing sideways at feeling movement and feeling just slightly unnerved by Dammy actually moving Its head to be ‘looking’ right at the portal. Alright. That’s freaky. “Uh, Danny-dude? Other you is doin’ that paying attention to you thing”, wasn’t that supposed to be some death omen thingy?

Danny turns his head, “huh?”, genuinely feeling cautious but not getting to do shit about that at the sound of a click and static. Snapping his head back towards the back of the portal and seeing the green light there, “oh fu-”.

Tucker jerks to stand up, Sam hovering worriedly by the portal as a massive beam of green light flashes out of the thing. Both immediately clamping their hands over their ears at the sound of screaming. Dammy is also making some kind of static noise, somehow staying sitting upright. That was freaky enough to give them something other than the god awful sound to focus on.

Sam still manages to catch Danny? or what she thinks is him, when he? falls out. Tucker also moving to grasp the person-shaped black and white static, “D-Danny man?”. Both teens wincing at the sound? he? makes.

“We can’t, oh god, can’t understa-”, Tucker getting cut off by Dammy sparking all over with green electricity and shooting bolts of lightning at the static Danny. Both Sam and Tucker yelping and jumping back, having gotten zapped themselves in the process; electricity jumping over their fingers and forearms.

The two wince and rub at their fingers before watching more than a little wide-eyed at the electricity stuff jumping all over static Danny and looking as if it was tugging at him or something. Tucker blurting out, “I don’t know how aware you are dude! But I think Dammy’s trying to pull you in or something!”.

Sam looks to him, “do you, fuck, do you think he’s even aware what’s going on?”.

“Sam, I don’t even know what the Hell’s going on! And I’m pretty sure Danny just got fried to a crisp, so what the Hell do you think!”.

“Oh don’t you snap at me! I was just asking a damn question!”.

“My best friend probably just died! So I think I’m allowed to snap at whoever the Hell I want!”.

“Like Hell you are!”.

“Shut up!”.

“No!”, Sam doesn’t get to say more than that as static Danny seemingly snaps into Dammy. The two friends watching green rays of almost blinding light shoot out of the ‘eyes’ before dimming into two little green orbs of light inside the pitch black of the eye sockets and move around a bit before the doll lurches forward, grasps Its stomach, and the stitched line opens up like a mouth to immediately vomit up chunks of cotton and herbs. Sam blinks, “oh man, we so need to get the Fenton’s”. Tucker just nods slowly, as they both gulp and move closer to the doll.

Tucker putting a hand on It/his back, “Danny?”. The doll hacks a bunch, more bits of mess coming out, and nods faintly. So Tucker pats his back, “alright, okay”, looking to the side and whispering, “holy fucking shit”, glancing at Sam then back to Danny, “just get it all out of... your system, man”.

Danny makes a sound that’s kinda like someone rubbing two marshmallows together. Tucker swallows, “still can’t understand you, man”. While Sam comes around the other side and gives him a soothing arm rub, “do you think you can move?”. Oh Hell, they messed up bad.

They watch as he very jerkily puts a hand to the ground, moving to help him stand; which he’s also jerky and stiff about. Danny makes more of the marshmallow sounds as he leans against Tucker. Though Tucker’s positive Danny was saying something along the lines of ‘thanks’. Tucker’s just trying to not be freaked out by the soft plushie feel of Danny’s body. Sure he was used to Dammy being around, but that was just Danny’s kinda weird doll thing. Now It wasn’t just a doll thing. Was there even a Dammy anymore? Man this was so messed up.

The two friends watch and steady Danny as he cranes his? head around in a way that was closer to limp lolling. Them both feeling him stiffening when he catches his reflection in the far side mirror. Sam and Tucker following his line of sight, staring at the vibrate green glowing orbs reflecting off harsh enough to practically blackout the rest of the mirror. Both of them wincing at more marshmallow sounds, though it sounds more ‘alarmed’ this time.

Tucker gives him a small squeezes on the shoulder, “for the love of everything, please be able to learn to talk like a freaking person again”. Sam smacks him for that. But Danny makes something like a velcro sound that sounds close enough to a laugh.

Sam looks to him, more than a little thankful she’s well used to seeing the lipless hollow-socketed face, even if the green light ball things were unnerving, “do you want me to get your folks”, nodding her head at Tucker, “this idiot will probably raid the fridge instead”.

Danny doesn’t move for a bit before nodding slowly, making more marshmallow noises and stiffly grabbing his throat with one hand.

Tucker pushes Danny to sit down as Sam bolts up the stairs, Danny repeatedly making more noises while squeezing and poking his throat. Tucker grabbing his shoulder, making him jerkily look to him, before pulling him in and hugging him close, “you-fuck, you don’t know how bloody happy I am for Dammy right now. That you had, have, I don’t know, Other-Danny”, squeezing him a bit more, “fuck Danny”, wheezing a chuckle out, “so, I guess ghosts exist huh?”. Not surprised to get marshmallow in return, the tone’s softer and maybe worried? though so he pats him on the back and let’s go; wiping his face a bit with his arm as he goes.

Both turn their heads to the side at Maddie practically bolting down the stairs, Sam right behind. “You kids aren’t supposed to be down here unsupervised, you know this”.

Tucker stands up immediately, holding his palms out pacifyingly, “we know we know, it’s just the tech’s so cool and things weren’t working and we do know some lab safety and-”. Cutting himself off as Danny jerkily stands and wavers badly, Tucker moving to steady him.

Maddie blinks and stares at the moving doll, slowly looking progressively more horrified, “Danny?”.

The thread that makes up Its mouth moves up into a wobbly-looking nervous smile. The doll nods a little. She staggers over, grabbing Its-his? arm and pulling his? hand into hers. Staring at the skin-like fabric, the nailless fingers, the threads and seams, “oh Danny, what did you do”, and hugging him. Hugging the doll that housed him. He makes gurgling fuzzy sounds. Maddie letting go and stepping back a little to steady herself and give him some room, while Tucker gives a weak smile and nudges the doll's shoulder, “hey, that was closer to words this time”.

Danny looks to him and makes some sounds while doing something that vaguely resembles a scowl. Then looking to Sam as she walks over and hugs him too, “you’re such an idiot”.

“ɥ͜͜͝ɐ̡̡̨͘ǝ̸̷̧̨̢⅄̵͝”.

All three wince, Sam and Tucker moving to cover their ears a little. Tucker grumbling, “I’d prefer the fuzz and marshmallows over that”. Danny winces and practically smacks himself in the face while going to cover his ‘mouth’ with his hand.

Maddie whispers, “that was ghost speak”, shaking her head and moving to touch his throat gently, swallowing, “your.. dolls muscles and voice box is made of cotton and sugar string, you’ll have to learn how to use them”. Looking to her son's friends and noticing the odd burns on their fingertips, “what happened to your fingers?”, which instantly gets Danny’s attention too.

Tucker looks at his fingers, at least it didn’t hurt, and looks back to her, “oh uh, we were kinda close to Danny when Dammy went all crazy light show and, like, sucked Danny in with lightning or something”. Maddie looks to Danny curiously. Danny just starts doing something akin to flailing and looking back and forth from his friends, gargling a bunch.

“Hey woah man, it’s not your fault. Heck! You didn’t even do it! And Dammy just did what It was literally designed to do“.

Sam nods and squeezes his arm, “yeah, I’m just glad you’re in this thing”.

Maddie looks around, noticing the mess on the ground and blinking, “did... did you throw up?”. Danny nods and looks to be trying to quirk an eyebrow but it’s not really working. But that... that wasn’t supposed to happen. So why? The only thing she can think of is that his friends might have interfered with something.

Tucker and Sam frown when Maddie rushes off to her computer systems, Sam snapping, “is that bad? Is Dammy not functioning right? It’s not rejecting Danny or something is It?”. Tucker just nods worriedly. Danny points at his friends then smacks a palm into his chest, his chest felt weird; especially if he was supposed to be a ghost... dead.

Maddie nabs up a scanner and rushes back to Danny’s doll, putting it to his ‘eyes’, “sorry sweetie, your eyes are the only part of your... ghost that’s accessible”.

Tucker blinks, “wait, those glowy light ball things are actually eyes”. Danny grunts, probably something along the lines of saying ‘obviously’ or maybe being offended.

“Well technically it’s a culmination of ectoplasm but a ghosts eyes always have the highest concentration outside of their Cores. So eyes yes, but also no”, shaking her head and pulling the scanner back. Blinking down, a bit dumbfounded, at the results, “you... Danny, you’re... still human”.

Sam and Tucker both immediately blurt, “WHAT!”, and Danny makes a high-pitched grating sound, then taps at the left of his chest.

Maddie squints but moves to put her hand over the spot, going a little slacked jawed, “there... you have a heartbeat”. Danny nods rapidly but stiffly. Maddie shakes herself off and looks down to the scanner while Sam and Tucker both grapple over his chest, obviously wanting to make sure for themselves.

Maddie looks from the reading to the two teens and back again. Those two, they always were her boy’s miracle friends. The only ones unphased by his oddness and accepting of the doll. Who would all go to weird lengths to help and protect and support each other; apparently more so than she ever thought even possible. Once again looking to the teens, “you two, it’s because of you two”.

The two look to her in obvious confusion.

“What do you mean by that?”.

“Huh? But we didn’t really... do anything”.

Maddie shakes her head, turning the device around to face them, “when you got zapped. The ecto-electricity picked up bits of your DNA and took it with it. Human DNA”.

Danny looks back and forth between his two friends, looking a bit like he’s gonna cry, not that he actually can though, and hugs both of them around the neck; pulling them into him. His arms bend in a circle rather than at the elbow though Sam and Tucker don’t really care and smile up against his doll cheeks, but pause, turning their heads towards Maddie, “wait, does that mean we’re related now?!?”.

Maddie lets herself smile almost meanly at that, though with a level of relief underneath, “just a little bit”. Danny makes a tearing sound not unlike Velcro, the two other teens rolling there eyes as he lets go of their necks; arms falling to his sides with soft thwaps.

Maddie tears her eyes away, this, Danny being fabric and the ecto-energy contained inside that bled out the eye sockets, was going to take some getting used to. Her looking over their machinery and glancing back at the cotton pile on the ground. He had a heartbeat so maybe... Moving to set up one of their body scanners while Danny makes some kind of puff sounds.

Sam and Tucker couldn’t care less what Mrs. Fenton was up to, far more focused on trying to help Danny with the whole ‘walking on legs that don’t have bones or fleshy muscles’ thing. As they sort of guide him to walk around, all three watching the legs wobble and bend at odd angles; he does seem to be getting better pretty quickly though, even if he seems annoyed.

Tucker chuckles after a bit, deciding making light of this crap was the best idea and the one his goddamn sticking to, “you know, I always wanted a little brother”, and looks down at him slightly emphasising his slightly taller height. Danny, predictably, shoves him.

Sam rolls her eyes, “don’t expect to get any of Nana’s inheritance though”. Danny and Tucker exchange confused looks, though it’s kinda hard to tell on Danny. Tucker asking with Danny pointing at him, “huh?”.

Sam grumbles, “forget it, doesn’t mean anything”. And once more getting blocked from saying anything more by Maddie.

“Alright, So I think I might have an idea why and how you threw up”. Which gets all three teens' attention, hoping that something really wasn’t wrong with the doll. Both friends stepping to the side a bit to let her use the invention, whatever it was. Watching it shoot out a wide beam of light and move over the doll's entire body. Danny tilting his head at a little too sharp of an angle after; the unblinking orbs making the effect seem wide-eyed and both more child-like and a little creepy.

Maddie blinks at the result, even more dumbfounded but also happy, ridiculously happy. Looking back to Danny and not being able to help smiling some; ignoring the totally unnatural head tilt, “my guess was right”, turning the screen to the teens, “you threw up to make room for organs. Heart, lungs, stomach; it’s all there”.

Sam sounds more than a little morbidly curious, “so there are fleshy bloody organs in there? How in the?”, looking to Danny, “glad you still have that stuff though”.

Tucker chimes in with, “especially a stomach! How else are we supposed to have burger eating contests?”. Sam scowls at him, but is honestly glad for the normalcy.

Maddie tilts her head a little and frowns slightly, “no they’re probably made of sugar, fondant, and maybe some blood cells. Some of the dolls spices too maybe. Cotton for lungs? The density is right”. She would like to actually know but... no, not happening. Stuffing the completed doll and stitching It shut when they made It had been unpleasant enough. And Danny probably wouldn’t enjoy that.

Tucker grabs and bends the doll's arm in a circle, “and his bones?”. Danny grunting at him for that and yanking his arm away, guy could have at least asked before treating him like a twist tie; though yeah, what the Hell.

Maddie glances back to the device's screen, “I think there’s sugar string trying to be bones”, looking back to Danny, “but obviously that’s not really working. There’s nothing really solid enough in the doll to be bones, sorry sweetie”.

Danny’s string mouth contorts a bunch and no one can really tell what kind of facial expression he’s trying to make, “p҉͟ᴉ͏d҉̷̧͢n̡͜͝ʇ̴͝S͘͢ ̸̷˙̸s͘͢ǝ̷̧̨u̸o̷͢q̸̨̧͜͞ ̸̢̛̛͟o̷̢҉͡u̸͢͠ ̶͡s͠͠u̷̧͠ɐ͘͜͡͏ƃ̷̛ɹ̛͟o̕͏̨҉”. Then covering his ‘mouth’ again when everyone winces. “Sree”. Then grinning a bit stupidly at getting an actual English sounding sound out. Everyone else grinning at him a bit too.

Maddie gives an understanding nod, “your actual body is energy, a... ghost, it makes sense their language would be a default for you”, sighing a little, “if it wasn’t for your doll that’s probably all you could speak”.

Tucker butts in a bit awkwardly, “he was just making static sounds before. So I think he still took some time to learn or whatever”. Sam rolls her eyes, “he was head to toe static before, moron”.

Maddie scrunches her eyebrows, studying Danny, “maybe that’s just how ghosts look before they stabilise. The dolls are supposed to house the person before they stabilise after all”, squinting a little, “do you think you can stick out your tongue?”, the doll didn’t have one, so that was another area where the ghost inside was supposed to be able to be seen.

Danny gives a stiff shrug, arms flapping around limply a bit from the motion, and sticks out his tongue with absolutely no idea where this is going.

Sam and Tucker snort and chuckle a little at the glowing green forked thing, with bits of static or electricity spiking off it here and there but it was mostly solid.

Maddie nods, also noting the sharp teeth the doll had sprouted, at least those weren’t glowing. Just a little too white though. Just enough to feel wrong. Seemed slightly transparent too, especially at the tips. “I’d say you’re stabilised now-”.

Sam cuts her off, grabbing Danny’s face and prodding the teeth, “woah! You’ve got fangs! Damnit, now I’m jealous”. Tucker starts laughing while Danny bats away her hands, joining in with Velcro sounds after a bit though.

Tucker pats him, “and nice snake tongue, dude”. Danny makes more alarmed marshmallow sounds before sticking his tongue back out and grabbing at it. It feels like he’s going wide-eyed, but without eyelids that’s kind of hard to tell; the green orbs do get a bit wider though.

Maddie gives him what she hopes is a reassuring smile, “ghost usually only resemble humans, sweetie. There’s bound to be changes. Just maybe don’t stick your tongue out at people”.

Tucker immediately blurts out, “or do! Bet than would totally freak Dash out!”. Maddie gives a fond sigh at that, though hoping he doesn’t actually do that. Part of the point of the dolls was so the ghost wouldn’t start terrorising people, by force or by choice.

Danny covers his mouth, effectively conveying that he would not be doing that. Or at least not till he was at least comfortable with all of... this. Being able to feel his heart beating seriously helped, though actually being able to feel it brushing up against soft cotton was supremely weird. And the staticky tingling running around everywhere was very distracting. Though that might be the only reason he’s not having a total meltdown right now. He had literally died, stoled his friends' DNA, and hijacked Dammy’s ‘body’; which fine, was kinda the point and meant Dammy was serving Its purpose but still.

Maddie pats Danny’s head, making a point to not be weirded out by the stringy texture of his hair, “maybe I should make us some food, you should be able to eat it. Also, you are not going to school tomorrow or for the next few days”.

All three teens go wide-eyed -or wide-orbed in Danny’s case- realising the slight issue. Sam and Tucker glancing at Danny. His ‘skin’ was noticeably fabric, the string ‘mouth’ absolutely couldn’t pass as even kinda normal, his ‘eyes’ were an obvious issue, people might not notice the lack of fingernails and same with the shark teeth, and then there was the boneless problem, oh and he couldn’t speak. Danny just jerkily rubs at his neck before pointing upstairs and making marshmallow noises.

[stardustkenobi]

Only Lookin’ At You

Poe Dameron x Reader

Request: “HEY BITCH I N E E D 90 FROM THE PROMPT LIST WITH MY HUSBAND THANKS IN ADVANCE” @niffleurs​ she’s here

Warnings: fluffity fluff fluff

“To the women who will always be bridesmaids” Sophia said, her alcohol induced vibrato and grandeur hiding the fact that yes, she was very bitter that her boyfriend of ten years still had not popped the question.

Along with the other six bridesmaids, you rose your glass of champagne and clinked it with each one. Hannah, your best friend in the whole entire universe, was finally getting married — the third of your friends to get married in the past couple of years.

Undergrad was a long ways away as you took a hefty sip of your drink, eying the rest of the women that shared the same silk colored robes as you in the back room that you had been shooed off to to prepare to walk down the aisle. You picked at the monogram on the left side of your chest, letting out a subtle sigh. It was definitely difficult to understand Sophia’s frustration, considering the fact that your twenties had been plagued with bad hookups, one nasty relationship that was on again, off again for the better part of three years that ended in a crescendo of yelling, thrown insults, and tears of relief when you finally left the apartment, and disappointment.

Most of the movies and love songs and books that carried you to the oh so disappointing age of 32 had convinced you that you would find that one special person by now and you weren’t necessarily worried about it, but days like today punctuated the fact that it just hadn’t happened yet.

Shrugging your shoulders, you joined your friends as they began the mindless process of getting ready for wedding party pictures and the eventual arrival of the bride to be. Your hair was braided and twisted into the style that Hannah had meticulously picked out for you. Your lashes were plucked and your face was painted before Sophia was pulling you to the mirror. Between her and Hannah’s twin sister, you were finally placed into the gown that effectively made you a member of your sorry group of seven always a bridesmaids.

“You look amazing.” Sophia beamed as she flattened out the waistline of the gown.

Giving her a grimace in the mirror, you picked out little parts of the get up that irritated you. Were you complaining about your inclusion in the wedding party? Absolutely not — Hannah was practically a sister to you and her fiancé was one of the kindest souls that you had ever met. It wasn’t their fault that you had hoped you would have been the next of your girlfriends to be decked out in white and kissings the love of your life in front of what seemed to be the entire world to show that he was yours and you were his.

“Time for pictures!” A voice dragged you from your dreamlike trance in front of the mirror and with a push from Sophia and a bouquet slapped into your hands, you were off to the front lawn of the wedding venue to take pictures with the groomsmen.

The seven groomsmen were a mix of people you knew at varying degrees. Some were friends of the groom that you knew from college, others were childhood friends, a few were coworkers.

The groomsman that you were introduced to at the rehearsal as the man who would walk you to the altar less than twenty four hours ago was a man named Poe. He worked with Hannah’s fiancé — the two had climbed the corporate ladder of the marketing agency they had started out in fresh from senior year of college and, almost ten years later, they were practically running the place.

Poe had been mentioned time and time again by Hannah, who absolutely loved to play match maker. She was convinced that you would fall in love with him and be it your stubborn nature or the fact that you were becoming absolutely obsessed with the fact that you hadn’t found the one yet, you froze up the minute he introduced himself to you as you hung around the edges of the altar waiting for instructions.

He was indescribably handsome and from what you knew he was smart. However, the cynic in you questioned whether he would even be interested. Sure, he was single and just about your age, but for one thing, you certainly hadn’t had the best track record with relationships over the past fifteen years. What would make trying with him any different? And why would he even glance your way unless Hannah had put ideas in his head already?

You were unsure of what you wanted, both in life and in a partner and as much as you wanted to explore that, you were afraid to get hurt again.

So there you stood, chatting half heartedly with your girlfriends as thoughts of perpetual loneliness swirled around your brain. They most definitely were not welcomed thoughts, but you were having a significantly hard time quelling them, particularly as you glanced over at Poe who was somehow even more handsome in the standard tux all of the groomsmen wore. Your chest squeezed as you watched him goof around with his friends in front of the camera, becoming more and more attractive by the second.

“You think he’s cute, don’t you?” Hannah’s twin teased by your ear after the photographer had finished up with the guys. Of course Hannah had said something to her – this was Hannah for God’s sake.

“Shut up, Margo.” You hissed as the photographer approached your group to take pictures. “I don’t even know him.”

Marge smirked as the seven of you squeezed together, smushed up for a series of photos that ranged from serious to goofy. “He’s been watching you since you walked into rehearsal last night with every opportunity he has to.” She said plainly, turning to stand back to back with you as Sophia suggested some ridiculous pose that made some of the other girls laugh.

“Don’t put ideas in my head.” You said through a forced smile, voice an octave higher than normal.

She snorted, elbowing you teasingly. “Take a look yourself when you get a chance, why don’t you?” She said in a sing songy voice, then left to stand somewhere else at the direction of the photographer.

Your eyebrows furrowed together as the camera continued to snap away. Letting your eyes trail over to the group of guys standing a little ways off, sure enough, you met a pair of soft, brown irises that flickered away almost as quickly as you had made eye contact.

“Maid of honor and best man? Can I have you both over here for some photos, please?” The photographer said quickly, trying to adhere to the strict schedule of the day.

Margo shoved you forward to meet Poe — of course he was the best man because this was all a stupid, cliché little joke that fate was playing on you. Of course you’d have to be on his arm for the next two hours until you could finally break free at the reception, which would give you just enough time to formulate some dumb fantasy about how you’d catch Hannah’s bouquet and he’d catch her garter and your eyes would meet from across the room knowingly and he’d slip you his number on the back of his place card and it would all be just like the YA novels you used to read under your covers well past your bed time in high school and he’d —

“You good, Y/N?” Poe asked softly, hands in his pockets as he walked up to you and effectively pulled you out of your stream of consciousness.

Your knees were weak as you glanced up at him, nodding shyly. “I’m good.” You promised. “Just nerves, I think.”

He smiled, holding his arm out as the photographer directed. “You seemed a little nervous last night, too.” He said as he smiled, posing with you as the photographer began to take your pictures. Glancing down, he pushed a curl out of your eyes. “Hope it’s nothing I did.”

Your smile was soft as you chanced a quick little peek up at him. Yep, still gorgeous. “It’s not you at all.” You giggled as the flash and click of the camera caught the less than staged moment. “I think it’s just the heels, if I’m being honest. Hannah went with ones that are just way too high and I might face plant at some point if I’m not careful.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head as his eyes squeezed shut. Another snap of the camera. “She and Jack always said that you were funny, I’ll never get why they didn’t introduce us sooner.”

Your eyes rolled as you snorted, letting your bouquet hang at your side. “Of course she’s talked about me.” You said as you turned to the side a bit at the photographer’s request. “I’m sorry if she’s made you listen to stories about me at nauseum, she’s hell bent on setting all of her friends up and I totally get it if you’re, like, weirded out by being stuck with me today.”

Poe’s head tilted to the side as he studied you, taking your free hand at the photographer’s insistence. Snap — another sincere moment caught on camera, another piece of evidence for you to ruminate over when the photos finally came into your inbox months down the line when the fire in your belly had been doused and forgotten. Another photo to ignite that flame again and make you wonder if it ever could have worked. So many should’ve, could’ve, would’ves would more likely than not be plaguing your subconsciousness. “I actually asked about you when I saw that post of you and Hannah, Jack, and Margo at Governor’s Ball two summers ago. She never brought you up beforehand.”

Your mouth opened and closed as you searched for the words to respond, more likely than not looking like a fish. You willed your mind to say something, anything to counter this information as Margo yelled to you and your counterpart that it was time to get ready to process into the small chapel on the property the wedding was being held at.

“Guess that’s us.” Poe said with an almost shit eating grin, holding his arm out for you. “We can talk more about things later, if you’d like.”

You took his arm after a moment, not necessarily hesitating because you were afraid to touch him, but more so because you were afraid to mess up this delicate situation that mirrored so many action movies where the main protagonist debated whether or not to cut the red or blue wire to diffuse some sort of detonator. “I’d like that.” You finally said, choosing the lamest and subsequently safest response that you could muster.

The wedding went off without a hitch. Hannah and Jack were undeniably the cutest couple you had ever seen as they shakily exchanged vows they had written for each other in the dead of the over the past year, edits meticulously made and different word choices tested. Their kiss brought you to tears and the whole ceremony pulled you out of your own selfish thoughts for a little bit in the most relieving way possible.

You were sat on Hannah’s left, Poe was on Jack’s left, at the long table at the front of the ballroom the reception was being held in. Poe had finished his speech right after yours, receiving as many laughs as you had. When the bride and groom finally moved to the dance floor, Poe was immediately at your side, chatting your ear off eagerly as the two of you watched people spin around the dance floor for the better part of an hour.

“So,” Poe said after your fit of giggles from a joke he had cracked had died down. A slow song was just starting to play over the speakers. “You don’t have a date, I don’t have a date. They’re playing that cheesy ass Taylor Swift song that everyone’s been having their first dance to at their weddings and neither of us have had any excuse to get up and dance tonight…”

Your cheeks flushed and you hoped it would come across as being a result from the flute of champagne you had downed. “Are you asking me to dance?” “I’m not saying that we should go dance.”

“I think you’re asking me to dance.” You whispered teasingly, leaning forward with a knowing smile. “Lucky for you, if you weren’t asking me to dance, I’m going to have to pass. I don’t dance.”

He quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head. “You don’t like to dance?”

“No.” You backtracked. “I love dancing, just…Not in front of a ton of people.” Your grin was sheepish as you shrugged, picking at a piece of link on the skirt of your gown. “Too many opportunities to slip up and look — what are you doing?”

Poe’s hand was gripping yours and, as much as your mind screamed at you to not follow him out to what could be a potentially embarrassing situation caught on camera for generations of Hannah and Jack’s family to see, you allowed yourself to be pulled out to a quieter corner of the wooden dance floor and pulled to the chest of a man that, despite knowing him for just a day and really only talking to him for an hour, felt more familiar to you than any other man you had met before.

“Pretend that there is no one else here but us” He said softly, his hands finding your waist as Taylor crooned about a love that was three summers strong. “I won’t let you fall, promise. Eyes on me, okay?”

You nodded, totally dumbfounded as you started to sway with Poe and swallowed the lump threatening to rise in your throat. Your shaky hands rose to wrap around the back of his neck, subconsciously playing with the ends of his hair.

The conversation continued to flow quietly as the song reached the second chorus and by the bridge, his forehead was pressed to yours in the most tender of ways that erased any doubt in your mind that he had spent the first part of his night with you simply out of obligation to his friends.

You didn’t catch the glances shared between Margo, Hannah, and Jack a little ways off. You didn’t see how the whispered excitedly about how their plans were finally coming to fruition and how their stubborn friend was finally letting her guard down again for someone who wouldn’t take advantage of the vulnerability. Shit, you wouldn’t have cared if you saw or heard because of the way Poe was currently looking at you.

His words were filled with hope for the future and at the end of the night as you all trudged off to go your separate ways to get back to the hotel you all were staying at, the jacket of his tux was draped around your shoulders and your phone buzzed with text after text from him as you climbed into the car with Margo and Sophia.

You hadn’t caught Hannah’s bouquet or garter, Margo and Sophia both chided from the front of the car.

You smiled to yourself as your head hit the headrest on your seat. No you hadn’t — you had been too busy dancing with Poe in the gardens just outside the all glass doors to even notice it happening.

[marlahey]

wsitd part fifteen (sneak peek)

a shawn mendes rpf fic rating/warnings: can anyone tell I still find fandom really annoying misc notes: so...hello again. literally so much has happened since the last time you saw me, so much that all I can really say at this point is that I hope you’re all safe and well, despite everything. I swore I wouldn’t abandon this fic and I haven’t! thank god for that. I wish I could’ve finished it for today as planned, but my job’s been nuts for the last few weeks and it totally ruined my writing mojo. in any case, here’s the first last ~3k of we stumbled in the dark. happy second birthday, wsitd. I can’t believe how old you are, suddenly. thank you to everyone who’s messaged me over the last little while and especially in the last few months when this last part was only like 300 words deep and felt so vast and scary. I can’t tell you how much your support has meant to me.  (oh and pls just pretend for the sake of an upcoming scene not found here, Taylor’s Lover is already out in the world. just– just pretend. you’ll see.)  so without further ado:  (previously; start at part one here; find all parts here) (toronto; now) Shawn wants to FaceTime. Slide to answer.

His voice appears first. “Before you say anything, it’s not as bad as it looks.” “What–” You straighten automatically. “Shawn? Are you okay?” Bruises. On his beautiful face. Bruises and a tiny cut below his left eye, the beginnings of a scab along his jaw. Shawn’s rueful expression calms the start of your heart, like jumper cables jolting a battery into a steady rhythm. “I’m an idiot.” “What happened?” you demand, trying not to sound shrill or hysterical. He’s not dying. But his face. “You’re going to laugh at me.” “I won’t.” You’re too glad to hear from him – it’s been two weeks of rain checks and brief goodnight calls. Shawn sighs. The soft light of whatever room he’s in makes his features hazy. It’s late in Nashville. “I fell off a Bird.” “A what now?” “It’s a…” Shawn chuckles like he knows what he’s about to say sounds ridiculous. “Like a motorized scooter?” “Is that even a thing?” Your phone pings with messages: too-high, too-bright angles of him grinning, one hand on the handlebars of said motorized scooter, shots from behind of Parker and Geoff that are too blurry to be Kelsey’s work. Your heart pangs. “So totally worth it, huh?” He laughs. “Yes. Absolutely. I just wanted to tell you first before I like, story it or whatever. Didn’t want you to worry.” “Aren’t you performing? That country music thing?” “Tomorrow,” Shawn nods. You’re too late to conceal your wince. “National television, I know.” “Good thing you’re not just a pretty face?” He laughs so hard that he tips out of frame. Joy blooms inside your chest. “Ow. I think I bruised a rib. Damn El, way to kill a guy’s ego.” “Yeah,” you retort, “because your ego definitely needs taking down a peg.” It’s so easy with him. Somehow you’d forgotten that, amidst everything. A strange kind of sadness sticks in your throat. It clearly shows on your face because Shawn tilts his head. “What is it?” You almost say, nothing. “I miss you,” comes out instead. It feels like weakness, this honesty. You couldn’t really articulate why. “I’m sorry, I–” “I miss you too.” Shawn cuts you off so rarely in conversation that you genuinely stop out of surprise. His smile softens, oddly serious, as though he can hear the lost words: I know I put us here. “Every day.” There’s nothing accusatory in it, nothing reluctant or angry. Shawn says, I miss you, like he’d say, I love this song, with unequivocal certainty and ease. How can you feel better and worse at the same time? “One day at a time, right?” Shawn says gently. You nod. It’s what you agreed, after all. “You should get some rest,” you say. “Near death scooter experiences have to be exhausting.” Shawn snorts, his laugh crinkling around his eyes. It settles you in a way that you have to hang onto, in the days to come. “You sure you’re okay?” you ask, partly so he can’t pose the question himself. “Totally fine, El. I promise.” He’s giving you the out and you both know it. Shawn’s fingertips brush the edges of his camera, like he’s reaching for you through it. (He’s probably just adjusting his grip, but it’s a nice thought nonetheless.) “Call me tomorrow?” he asks. “We have the day off. Maybe we can watch a movie or something.” “Sure. Sweet dreams.” Shawn never hangs up first. He’s always still looking when you end the call, like he’ll never be able to stare for long enough. *

(new york; then) You If you only had one day in NYC what would you guys do with it?

Parker How much time are we talking actually? You As of right now?  Charlie Precision is essential Sinclair. You 37 hours. I’m on the red-eye out tomorrow. You Already packing. No one asks why, though you’re sure there are questions. The band doesn’t voice them in the group chat, much to your relief. Geoff Sophie’s all over it. Have you guys eaten dinner? Shawn Nope, cancelled our reservation last minute. Geoff Be ready in 45. Coming to get you. Brian PIZZA. PIZZA. PIZZA. Suddenly there’s like a hundred pizza emojis blowing up your phone. You’re still laughing when Ava comes to check on you. The laughing might become crying but no one needs to know that. * (toronto; now) “I’ve been thinking about getting another tattoo.” “Oh yeah?” You’d nearly forgotten how much you miss home. High Park in the spring may not be Hyde or Central, but it’s yours all year round – even if you missed cherry blossom season by a mere two weeks. You’ve been lamenting it for three minutes, Shawn mhmm-ing in your ear at appropropriate intervals. He’s in a park too, a brief respite from rehearsal. It’s nice to trade photos of the view and pretend to be together. Tell me something new, you’d asked. This qualifies. “Is this another impulsive itch?” “I thought you liked my little meditative man!” “Oh I love it,” you assure him. You can picture Shawn’s false offense so clearly, struggling not to grin like a loon in front of an eldery couple sitting on a bench as you walk past. “I’ll never forget how terrible you and Brian are at it, and I love that you now have matching tattoos as a permanent reminder.” Shawn mhmm’s again, like he doesn’t believe you. Your cheeks hurt from trying not to laugh. “I’ve thought about it, you know.” “What, meditating?” “No you goof.” You lose that fight against a giggle, a stupid smile. “I mean, nothing against meditating. I’m sure my therapist would recommend it.” “Okay, so what have you thought about?” It sounds just suggestive enough – even in broad daylight at two in the afternoon – that a shiver races up your spine. He doesn’t mean that. But now that the idea’s in your head, you’ve definitely thought about that. “El? You still there?” “Yes!” you say, a little too high pitched. You have to clear your throat. “Hi. I meant a tattoo. I’ve been thinking about a tattoo.” Shawn mutters something too low to catch, your attention caught by laughing children chasing each other across the grass. “Sorry, what was that?” “Nothing.” He’s a terrible liar, but you let it slide. “That’s awesome! Do you know what? Or where? How is this the first I’m hearing of this?” Fondness for him swells like a wave. You shrug before you remember Shawn can’t see you. “I think I just wanted to put a lot of thought into my first one. Not...jinx it, or something? You have to be 18 right, so I figured if I still wanted it by my birthday that I’d just…” “Just what?” You swallow around a sudden knot. How the hell do people maintain long distance for years at a time? This feels like agony. “Get it when we came home from tour. I was gonna… I was gonna ask you to come with me.” “I still could, if you want.” “You’re only home a few days,” you object, half surprised even as the words leave your mouth. “You promised your parents you’d spend that time with them.” “Are you planning on getting a massive sleeve or something, El?” You snort. “No. I just...I know how precious your time at home is to you.” Shawn doesn’t say anything for a moment. Anxiety drops like a stone in your stomach. “I mean, if you get it soon, it’ll be pretty much healed by the time I’m back in the city. Might be a good idea.” You wish sometimes he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. “And if you were really mean, you wouldn’t even tell me what it was and I’d have to wait forever to find out.” “I haven’t completely decided yet,” you admit. “I know the artist I’d love though, down on Bathurst. I’ve been stalking her Instagram for like two years. I’ll send it to you.” “Can’t wait. I gotta go, I’m back at the venue. But I’ll call you later?” “See you Shawn. Have a great show.” “And El?” “Hmm?” “Unless you’re planning on getting it like, down your spine or something, it doesn’t hurt as much as everyone says. I dunno how much that scares you, but...it shouldn’t. You’re like, one of the bravest people I know.” A pause, in which you genuinely don’t know what to say. “That’s kinda dramatic. It’s not like, war or something. God. You know what I mean right? It’s really not that bad, I promise.” You haven’t cried in nineteen days. You’re not starting now. “Yeah. Thank you.” I love you. You’ve been swallowing those words for so long and you have no idea why. *

@lightsshawn: she’s gone guys we did it @cruelsummermp3: did what? @dancingwithshawn: got rid of ellie - she hasn’t been seen in three weeks! @afterglow: what the fuck is wrong with you guys? * Shawn For the record I said “Fuck that’s hot.” Shawn And then I thought it might be Shawn Too much. You Not too much at all. You Definitely not.

*

(new york; then) “Next!”

“I never thought I’d be so happy to line up for pizza.” You’re shoulder to shoulder with other patrons in Prince Street Pizza, inhaling the delicious scents of dough and cheese with Kelsey, Kristin, and Ava. The boys have bee-lined for the first available table that’s definitely too small for all of you, while Ava points out all the famous faces that line the walls beneath fairy lights. “I’m glad you’re here,” you tell her, barely loud enough over the din. Your sister just squeezes you gently. “Remind me to print some photos and buy some lights when I get home. I’m really digging this vibe.” “Think you’d get some use out of this?” Sometimes you could swear Ava’s purses are like Mary Poppins’.

“What the– when did you get that?” “From your Amazon wishlist, silly.” Your sister presses an Instax camera into your bewildered hands. “They’re cheaper here. I thought it might…” Ava’s smile softens. “Ease the sting a little. Be a nice project for your room? And I didn’t want you to lose that photography spark.” Not crying. “Did you put film in this already?” Ava nods. “Have at ‘er. Tonight seems like a good night.” You throw your arm around her neck, pointing the camera at your faces, twisting away from the people in line just behind you. The flash is so bright but it hurts in a way that’s almost sweet. “Next!” As predicted, there’s definitely not enough room at the table when you and the other women arrive with The Fancy Prince and a Spicy Spring pizzas. Shawn waves wordlessly towards him, sliding from the absurdly tall chair to offer it to you. As you clamber up, his arm snakes back around your chair and he steps back closer to you. On the outset it’s a space saving measure. But Shawn seems pretty comfortable eating with you essentially tucked against him. You can’t say you mind either. *

They sneak you into a bar.

(or more operatively, Kelsey slides a fake ID into your back pocket on the subway platform while you’re timing a shot of the train arriving. You gawk at it so long that you nearly trip through the doorway. It’s identical to your Ontario license – so much so that you have to check your wallet to make sure you haven’t irresponsibly lost your ID – save your birth year. Ava pointedly avoids your eyes. “Did you have something to do with the fact that I’m suddenly magically 21?” you ask Shawn. Just as he was pleased to eat pizza in close proximity, Shawn seems delighted to wrap his fingers just a few inches above yours around the centre pole inside the subway car. Looking up at him now, you know with a striking certainty that you’ll never tire of it either: the sharing space, the strokes of intimacy that seem so carefully brushed when you touch – incidental seconds hiding more yearning that you thought yourself able to feel. (You wonder if it’s mutual. You hope so.) Shawn just raises his eyebrows, reaching for the card between your fingers, but you jerk it back. “Oh no way are you seeing my driver’s photo.” “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he says, reaching into his back pocket. Shawn tightens his grip against the pole, stepping even closer as the car shifts back and forth. Something in your gut wants to flush at his words but he’s already extending an identical card to you, unabashed. The voice inside your head that used to see wanting whenever he looked at you now speaks in insistent imperatives: want. want. want. “Shawn Mendes.” You lower your voice in mock shock. “Are you telling you have–” you cast a furtive glance around the subway car, and he chuckles– “a fake ID?” Shawn tips his chin down towards you so that his mouth nearly touches your temple. “Don’t tell, El.” (You do flush this time, damn him.) The youthfulness of his face on his license startles you in a strange way. You forget sometimes that despite the two-ish years (and entire career) between you that makes Shawn feel much older sometimes, twenty isn’t exactly ancient. He can’t even legally drink tonight, for Pete’s sake. “You’re so cute,” he says quietly, like a secret. Your cheeks are hot when he hands you the counterfeit back to you. “And no, nothing to do with me.” “Will this even work? Don’t people get their licenses stolen by bars all the time because Americans don’t understand the concept of different countries?” Shawn shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out.”) You don’t end up needing the fake in a stroke of good luck, but it burns a hole in your pocket nonetheless. (Kristin hands you a red lipstick as you stand in line – “Just in case we gotta sell it.”; it makes Shawn double take in the reflection of the window.) Sophie exchanges pleasantries with the doorman at Hollow Nickel and he waves the group inside to a modest weekday crowd. “We got the first round,” says Geoff. Brian and Charlie blow a series of kisses. “Love you too, dorks.” Sophia returns with two bottles of red and a question in her eyes, to which Ava says, “Fries for everyone?” “Hear hear!” Parker tips his beer. “Got a toast in you, Sinclair?” “A toast?” All evening you’ve been thinking about Paris. And as everyone looks with warm expectancy, you finally have the words you didn’t then. “My birthday was one of the most memorable nights of my life. And I think I was worried that it was the only night like that I’d ever have. But it wasn’t really the city that I loved.” You can’t look right at Shawn. “Thank you.” You lift your glass. “For making that night and every night of this amazing journey so wonderful. I know we’ll see each other again, but I guess – we have tonight, and we’ll always have Paris. I love you guys so much.”

Not crying. “To you Sinclair!” Charlie tilts his bottle with a grin. “We’ll miss ya.” The sound of everyone reaching forward and their glasses clinking hurts too, in that same sweet and painful way. *

(toronto; now) Hey, it’s me. I think you’re either asleep or in rehearsal so don’t even worry about not picking up. I know it’s just a volunteering thing at the humane society but I’m like, weirdly very nervous about it, like god what if all the dogs hate me Shawn? How the fuck would I go on after a blow like that? I’m kidding. But only mostly. I just wanted to hear your voice before I went in. Even if it was just your answering machine. Is that lame? Probably. Anyway...god Ellie, wrap this up. I’ll let you know how it goes. *

You This is Earl and I love him with my whole heart You Sent an image You Look at those ears he’s like a bat I’m dying. Shawn Loved your photo You I’m considering him a good luck charm for my Sick Kids application. You How was the show? Shawn Good :)   It’s unlike him to be so monosyllabic, smiley notwithstanding. Especially about a show. You Where are you? A crosswalk light turns in your favour. You’ve been walking just behind a couple with a giant white Samoyed, admiring his beautiful fluffiness as he sat at his owner’s heel. “Appa, yip yip!” The dog gets up immediately to walk. Holy shit I’m gonna die.  

You’re literally typing Shawn oh my god I just–  when your phone rings in your hand. “Hi.” You catch your reflection in the glass of a restaurant. Do you always look this happy when you talk to him? “El.” Shawn hasn’t said your name like this in a long time – not since In My Blood’s release. It immediately deflates your The Last Airbender excitement and you stop in your tracks; Appa’s swinging tail disappears around the corner.   “Can you ask me again?” You turn down a local greenspace next to your building. The bustle of Queen Street fades and you press your phone closer to your ear. “Where are you, Shawn?” “Back in the hotel in Raleigh. You know that hammock thing by the window?” “In your story, sure. What time is it?” You know the answer, of course. Same time zone. “Eleven something.” Nerves pinch at the base of your spine. “And how do you feel in that hammock thing in Raleigh at eleven something at night?” Shawn sighs. “A little better now that I’m talking to you.” Your stomach jumps. “But? What is it?” The line is quiet for a moment, though you can still hear Shawn’s even breath. “I feel like I’m not doing enough.” “What do you mean?” “Remember what you said when you were filling in your application for Sick Kids? You have all this time and energy so you may as well use it to help other people?” “Yeah…I mean I spent a good portion of my day cuddling cats, but–” He huffs a gentle laugh in your ear and it feels like a victory. “Yes. I remember.” “I just feel like… like I could be doing more to help. What’s the point of having all these followers or this like, platform, if I can’t do good with it?” It seems important to choose your next words carefully. “You know your music really helps people, right? Like Morgan, from London? Like me?” Shawn sighs again. “Yeah. You know how much that means to me.” “I’m not saying you can’t or you shouldn’t look to do more – I dunno, fundraising or educating, or whatever. You’re right, you can and do reach so many people. But it’s not like Instagram is gonna solve every single major social issue in the world, or that you or any single person has all the answers or right opinions.” “I feel like an idiot sometimes,” he says, like a shameful admission. “I literally only have a high school diploma and I feel like, out of my depth all the time.” “It’s not fair that people expect you to speak about every trending topic of the day,” you insist. You can feel yourself on the edge of getting worked up, a surge of overprotectiveness you haven’t felt in a long time. “That’s not your job. What happens when you say something well-intentioned and it blows up in your face?” “That’s what I’m afraid of.” “Shawn…” It takes a second to straighten out all the thoughts now whirling around in your head. “I understand what you’re getting at. And I admire you for it, more than you know. I’m sure there’s a way to help people and use your platform in a productive way without all the...noise.” He’s quiet for a long time. “God, I miss you.” It’s ridiculous how he can still make you blush, even from hundreds of miles away. “I miss you too.” “Are you home yet?” “Just about to get in the elevator. Can I call you back?” “Yeah. Wanna watch something?” “You’re not tired?” “No. Just wanna be with you for a bit, if that’s okay.” There’s no one around but you bit back another stupid smile anyway. “Always okay.”

[theamberwriter]

I saw the prompt list and i was thinking maybe 8 with aizawa! Like he comes home to his gf being silly and cute. You decide the rest uwu

[I'm flattered you sent in a request! ✨ I love writing for Aizawa, and there needs to be more for him in the world! I had fun with this one!]

Pairing: Shouta Aizawa x Reader

Word Count: 1451

Prompt: 8 - “You’re under arrest for being too cute. Put your hands where I can hold them.”

You were so glad that it was Friday. You’d taken the day off, that meant you had a long weekend. And goodness knows you needed it. You ran a large hero supply store. It was quite a demanding job. Being the big boss, you didn’t get days off a lot. But the department of health and labor had cracked down, forcing you to take weekends and vacation days. It didn’t matter if you ran the company, you needed to take care of yourself too.

You paced around your apartment. Your husband, Shouta Aizawa, was at his teaching job. So you were alone. Honestly, it was nice having you time.You loved your husband dearly, and wished you two were able to spend more time together. But you needed your own time, too. Or else you’d go nuts!

You spent the morning cleaning, it was surprisingly nice. After taking care of a large store, doing housework was a cinch. And being able to take your time brought you much needed peace. You put on a CD, humming along to the lyrics. Your bobbed your head to the beat. Slowly you began to dance along as you cleaned the bathroom. It started with shoulder swaying, then moving your cleaning brush in time with the music.

You used the broom as a dance partner as you swept the kitchen. Dramatically posing as you hit intense points in the song. Your mind imagining a whole audience sprawled in front of you. You spun around and shook your hips, sweeping the dirt into a pile. Calming down just long enough to get the grime into the dust pan and toss it in the trash.

You used the mop as a microphone. Trying not to slosh water around too much. The last thing you wanted was for Shouta to come home to a bigger mess. With both of you being so busy, it could be hard to clean as thoroughly as you wanted. But since you were being forced to take days off, you finally had the opportunity to do some proper housekeeping. As well as surprise your husband. It wasn't an opportunity you got often, so you wanted to take advantage of it.

You decided to use your quirk to help with dusting. It was sort of like telekinesis. But not as flashy. You gave things wings, and could control where they went. It wasn't extremely helpful for much. But you found it useful for getting stuff off and onto shelves. You just glad you could control multiple items at once.

You gave a few spray cans of furniture polish wings. Along with rags to follow behind them. You took a can and a rag yourself. You had the objects moving around you to the beat. Like the dishes in the Sword in the Stone movie. You decided to push it, and get the vacuum going too. The more you had control over, the harder it was to concentrate. But you really wanted to get the house clean and tidy before Shouta got home.

Once that all was done, you went around and touched all the objects that weren't where they were supposed to be. A few dozen objects flew into the air. Again, you danced as they swirled around you. Singing loudly and badly to the music. You picked up a few more objects as you spun. Trying to place everything where it was supposed to go.

Your heart leapt as you spun straight into a pair of arms. Shrieking, everything lost its wings and fell out of the air. You stared straight up into the beautiful, amused eyes of your husband. He was giving you a mischievous smile. Your face filled with heat. You just knew he'd caught you goofing off.

"Looks like I have one more criminal to catch today. - You’re under arrest for being too cute," he teased, taking your hands in his. "Put your hands where I can hold them.”

You laughed nervously. "Welcome home, Shouta, I didn't hear you come in."

He kissed you chastely, then went to the stereo. "I would suppose not. You got this so loud. The neighbors are going to hate us."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. You started to go back around and touching the things that slipped your quirk. "Now you're just being dramatic. How was your day?"

"Nothing special. Had to separate Bakugo and Midoriya, again," he groaned, sitting on the couch. He watched your every move, you could feel his eyes on your back. "We caught a petty thief when I was on patrol. So it was rather uneventful. You look like you've been busy. - I thought you were told to take it easy."

You shrugged, not looking at him. "I'm fine. Just tired. With All Might's retirement, I've had to take extra security measures. It's just going to take getting used to. I promise, I didn't over do it."

"You're pushing the limits of your quirk. Hire a security team. You don't have to take it upon yourself to control all fifty security cameras." Shouta's eyes bore into your back.

You knew he was upset with you. You'd had to personally give wings to all the store security cameras, and check every single nook and cranny yourself. Crime was getting worse. It got taxing. Along with never having taken any day but holidays (when you shut the store completely) off, you were forced to for your health.

When you looked over your shoulder, Shouta's mouth fell into a flat, disapproving line. "How much have you used your quirk today? Your nose is bleeding."

You put a hand to your nose, pulling away to find blood. You gasped, you hadn't even noticed. "I didn't even -"

Shouta took your other hand gently. "Let's go clean you up."

You sat on the lid of the toilet while Shouta hunted through the medicine cabinet. You felt like a child who'd been caught drawing on the walls. Finally, he turned to you. He had a cotton ball in one hand. In the other was a rag.

Silently, your husband wet the cloth. He crouched to your level, but avoided your eyes as he wiped away the blood. Then he shoved the cotton up the side of your nose that was bleeding. Shouta stared at you, still crouching.

"I yell at you because I love you, you know," he said finally. "I can't have you go and do stupid things."

You sighed, eyes dropping to your lap. "I know. I'm sorry. I just really wanted to surprise you."

"The dancing was enough." You caught the smile, and teasing in his tone. "I just want to know you're still going to be in one piece when I get home."

Shouta kissed your forehead, then stood and offered you his hand. You took it, and followed him back to the living room. He sat on the couch, pulling your against him tightly.

"So what did you have in mind for movie night?" His voice rumbled under your ear. "We're both finally home early on a Friday after all."

You smiled to yourself. Butterflies paraded through your stomach. You were so glad that he'd remembered. This was a tradition you'd had while dating. You couldn't remember the last time you two were able to have movie night while you were married. Even your honeymoon was cut short on account of a villain attack.

But you had something a little different in mind. You trapped his face in your hands and kissed him, roughly. Deeply. Slowly. You smirked, "I was thinking, if I was under arrest - Why don't you do something abo -"

He smacked the back of your head. You groaned, to which Shouta grunted in response. "Behave. You strained too much for that today. Now pick a movie."

"Alright," you groaned, curling back into his side.

"Maybe tomorrow," Shouta said quickly, you almost didn't catch it. Your face grew hot. But you could help as you smiled to yourself, and began throwing out suggestions. Most of which were immediately shot down. Finally, you ended up with the movie you'd seen on your first date.

This lead to you and your beloved reminiscing about old memories. The beginning of your relationship. The beginning of your marriage. He remembered things you didn't think he had. This flooded you with more warmth and happiness than you felt you could contain. You couldn't wipe the dopey grin off your face.

You both fell asleep on the couch. Contentedly. Happily. Lovingly. You woke up briefly, and gave Shouta a kiss on the cheek. Immediately settling back into the warmth with one thought on your mind; it was going to be nice having days off.

[hogwarts--imagines]

Polaroids and Sweet Lovin’

GIF NOT MINE

Castiel x Female!Reader

Warning: FLOOF

Request: Anon; Could you write a Cas x reader fic where the reader loves taking Polaroids and takes some of Cas? 

This was longer than intended.. Enjoy babes.

This was perfect. 

The Polaroid was a perfect idea. 

I needed something to do while Sam, Dean, and Castiel were gone. I brought cases to them, I did the research, and when Bobby passed, I took his place and had loads of phones labeled so I knew who I was supposed to be, if it would be FBI or CIA or anything else. 

I was bored half the time so I got a Polaroid camera and I got to work. I took aesthetic pictures of the bunker Library, and even my room because it was literally aesthetic and I loved it. The pictures came out great and I decided to put them in an old empty photo album. 

When the boys got back days later, I discretely took pictures of them. Dean eating pie or anything else he could shoved in his mouth. Sam reading books, grooming his long hair, something. I would get pictures of them doing silly things, laughing, or even sleeping in the chair they were sitting in. 

I knew it would be awkward if they caught me, but I loved taking pictures, capturing the moments that were filled with joy, and positive things. 

God only knows how much hell we literally go through. 

The one time I grew the balls to capture a picture of Castiel was probably the best decision ever. 

I had a huge thing for the angel, but I never acted on it since, well, It’s Cas. I wasn’t as strong and Sam or Dean. I didn’t go out and hunt. I was a small quiet person who was to damn awkward to get a full sentence out at the angel.

The picture took my breath away. I walk walking around finding things to take a picture of and turned the corner and saw him standing in the farthest window from me. He was looking out the window, the sunny day was shinning through the window and lit his face up in all the right places. I took the picture and turned around to put it in my album.

So since then, many more were taken.

---

Another moment, I didn’t mean it, really. 

I was walking and dropped my camera, picking it up I checked for damage. I looked through the lens. I just so happened to be facing Cas’ bedroom, door wide open. I didn’t realize that when I took the picture he was in the room. 

I held the photo in my hands as I continued walking towards the library. I shook the photo a few times and looked at it. I sucked in a deep breath and felt my cheeks heat up. 

Cas was shirtless. His back was to me, and his head was turned to the right slightly as he looked at his, wings. They were out for the world to see. The picture captured that moment and I almost died from how beautiful the picture was. Tucking it into my pocket I turned around and charged for my room to put it safely into my album. 

“Hey Y/n,” Dean was right behind me “What were you looking at?”

“N-nothing” I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a step back. 

“Mmmhmm” Dean smirked at me and stepped forward “That was quite the picture you took”

“WH-what pict- What picture?” I stuttered out and continued to step back. 

“Tell me, does Cas know you took that?” Dean grinned and started laughing.

“Fine” I huffed out and grabbed his arm “Come look at this.”

I dragged him all the way to my room, past Sam and Cas who were now in the hallway, leaving them with confused looks towards a laughing Dean.

--

“You took these?” Dean asked as he looked through the album.

“Just something I started doing to pass the time” I fiddled with my fingers and trained my eyes on my bed.

“They’re..  Beautiful” Dean smiled as he flipped through the pages, stopping when he saw more with mostly Cas. “Seems you got stuck with one thing”

“I...” I trailed off and looked at his eyes “He’s just so.. Angelic.”  Dean laughed at that. 

“See, I knew it” he managed to get out between laughs.

“Knew what?” I snagged the album back from him and handed him the recent picture I took. 

“That you like him” He spoke casually and starred down at the picture. “This.. This is by far the best one you took. You should keep this one close.”

“I do not!” I argued “and why would I do that?” 

“In case you miss him and you can just look at this” Dean smirked again.

“What? No!” I snatched the picture and put it in the album. “We do not speak of this. This is between us.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Dean took the album and closed it, putting it back under my bed. “Food?” 

“Food” 

--

Since then, Dean made sure to point to Cas whenever he’d show up, jokingly trying to get me to take pictures. Dean started randomly posing for the camera and I of course, took the picture. 

Sam caught on, never seeing the album, and would make silly faces whenever he noticed me taking a picture. During these moments Cas would look at the boys like they were crazy. He never noticed I was there taking a picture.

---

I was sick, Sam and Dean left to go check out a possible case, while I stayed in my bed sick. I was looking through my album when I slowly drifted off to sleep. 

---

Narrative POV

Cas listened to Dean and came to check on y/n. Walking into her room to see her sound asleep. Walking over to her bed, Cas noticed she had a photo album open and resting on her chest as she slept. Picking it up, Cas went to close it, but noticed a picture of Dean. 

Deciding to start from the beginning, he slipped through the pictures. None of them are her. Except one. Stopping to study it, he couldn’t help but smile. 

She was standing facing the mirror. She was wearing her favorite black shorts, and a shirt she had ‘borrowed’ from him. The way the shirt was sitting on her, you could barely tell she was wearing shorts. But Cas would recognize those from anywhere. Her hair was tied up in a sloppy bun, and her camera was held in both hands and up to her face. Blocking it. 

Cas loved the picture, and he wanted to see more of her in the album. However, he was met with a surprise.

The next seven pages were of him. They all took his breath away with how beautiful the picture was. And from judging by the one picture of her, Cas concluded she was the one taking the photos. 

He paused at one. The one he never expected to see. But did he really expect to see any of these? 

His wings, out in the open. His stance, everything. It was so beautifully taken. But when was it taken? The others, he could recall that exact moment, but that? He was in his own room. Alone.

Did she sneak inside and watch him?

Cas decided to close the book and set it on her nightstand. He would ask her about it later, if he could muster up the words to talk to her. 

---

Reader POV

I was finally better. Waking up the fever was gone and I could breath again. I was still not 100% better but good enough to get out of bed and head to the kitchen to find food. 

“You’re awake” A deep voice called out from behind me when I entered the kitchen. Castiel.

“Yes?” I turned to look at him.

“Feeling better? Dean asked me to come check on you.” Cas stayed put in his spot. Dammit Dean.

“A little, just hungry.” I shrugged as I turned towards the pantry and grabbed the box of Ding-Dongs.

“I have a question” Cas tilted his head to the side.

“Shoot. But follow me cause I want to be in the warmth of my bed.” I was a bit surprised with how clear that came out.

We arrived in my room, I sat on my bed. Still holding the box of Ding-Dongs. 

“What’s up?” I looked at the angel with raised eyebrows.

“That” He pointed to the album

“Wh-” He walked to it and grabbed it off the night stand, opening it to the picture with his wings 

“This” He pointed to it “When?”

“Um” I cleared my throat “I can explain”

“Well, really my question is how? I saw the pictures before that, with everyone being goofs, but, then it turned into a lot of me. Which are beautifully done. I was a little disappointed with the lack of pictures of you, but you can’t really take pictures of you if you’re the one taking pictures” He was now sitting on my bed looking at me.

“There is a thing called selfies” I added quietly. 

“And every picture you’ve taken of me” He looked back down at the photo “I’ve seem to recall that moment, not that I knew you took a photo. But I can’t for the life of me, figure out how you took this one.”

“Um” I repeated again “I can explain”

“Please do” He tilted his head back slightly and furrowed his brows. 

“Well explain why you went through my personal belongings” I quickly threw out there, mostly because I was embarrassed and didn’t want to be put on the spot.

“Oh” Cas’ eyes widen “Uh I didn’t mean to”

“Yeah and I didn’t mean to take the photo” I added defensively 

“How do you not mean to take a picture?”

“How do you not mean to go through someone’s personal belongings?”

“Stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“That, thing you’re doing” 

“What? Stating facts?” 

I didn’t realize he was closer.

“Seriously though, how did you take the picture?” Cas spoke quietly.

“It was an accident” I then explained the story and played with my fingers again. I started biting my lip when he didn’t respond.

“You shouldn’t do that” He lifted his finger and pulled my lip away from my teeth “It’ll make your lip bleed.”

“Sorry, it’s a habit” I mumbled. “Sorry for taking so many pictures without your permission” 

“Is that a habit too?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Uh” I bit my lip again, not sure of what to say.

“I see, there is a habit that needs to break.”  He moved closer again, making my heart pound harder more and more.

“I’ll stop taking pictures of you” I added quietly, still biting at my lower lip.

“Not that” 

He cupped my face and pulled me in for a kiss. I froze and stayed still, trying to register that this actually just happened. He pulled away and looked into my eyes.

“I think I know how to break that lip biting habit of yours.” He smirked. The look he had and what he just did, had Dean written all over it. 

“Whoa” I breathed in deeply.

Cas stood up and started for the door

“You’re more than welcome to take pictures, if you still want. But if you want a private session, taking photos on my wings, you know where to find me.”  He then walked away. 

I took a few moments to collect myself. I looked through my album again, trying to calm down still. When I noticed something.

The picture I took of me in the mirror was,

 gone.

[trans-advice]

Actor Michael D. Cohen Has Something to Share: ‘I Transitioned’

Actor Michael D. Cohen in Burbank, Calif. on April 16, 2019.

“We need more sweat!”

On that command, a production assistant takes a spray bottle filled with glycerin and scurries over to actor Michael D. Cohen, making his bald head glisten as a crew stands by at a studio in Burbank, Calif. They’re filming the fifth season of Henry Danger, a farcical superhero saga that is Nickelodeon’s longest running live-action sitcom. In it, Cohen plays a character named Schwoz, a quirky genius who aids the show’s good guys much as Q aids James Bond. In this scene, as a goof, Schwoz is leading some of the show’s younger actors through an aerobic workout. Cameras roll as Cohen, clad in spandex and now suitably sweaty, breaks into action. “Your life begins where your comfort zone ends!” he barks while huffing through the routine.

It’s just a line that Cohen is delivering in his character’s silly accent. But it also expresses an idea that the actor has come to understand intimately, one he is ready to embrace again, whatever it might mean for his future. Spurred in part by the political climate — which in recent years has seen fraught public reckonings around issues related to gender — Cohen wants to publicly disclose a private fact that he has been sharing with colleagues on the set of Henry Danger: Nearly twenty years ago, he transitioned from female to male.

“I was misgendered at birth,” Cohen says. “I identify as male, and I am proud that I have had a transgender experience — a transgender journey.”

Today, there are more actors than ever who are open about having had, as Cohen puts it, a transgender journey. This is in part because there is a proliferation of shows, including Pose and Transparent, that are portraying nuanced transgender characters. But Cohen is rare in that he worked in the entertainment industry for more than two decades before he chose to make this disclosure.

In many ways, the environment is far more welcoming than it was when Cohen first transitioned, back when issues of gender identity were largely relegated to spectacles like The Jerry Springer Show. In Hollywood, figures like Laverne Cox and Asia Kate Dillon have nabbed major roles, helping to shift mindsets among producers and audiences alike. More broadly, there is unprecedented awareness about LGBTQ issues, in courts and legislatures as well as the cultural zeitgeist. Yet that visibility has also spurred backlash from conservatives who cast transgender and gender nonconforming people as a threat to societal norms.

Cohen does not use the word transgender to describe himself, but he does view himself as part of a community that typically embraces that label, and he didn’t feel he could be an outspoken advocate until he made his history known. The actor has grown restless while watching the Trump administration roll back protections for transgender people in schools and the military, as Republicans have fought bills that would protect them from discrimination in public spaces.

“This crazy backlash and oppression of rights is happening right in front of me. I can’t stay silent,” Cohen says. “The level of — let’s be polite — misunderstanding around trans issues is so profound and so destructive. When you disempower one population, you disempower everybody.”

It’s a chilly April evening in L.A., and I’m sitting with Cohen on the otherwise empty patio of a sleek restaurant on Sunset Boulevard. One of the first things you notice about him is the same thing casting directors do: he’s short, just over five feet tall. Tonight, his big eyes are framed under a flat cap and he’s sporting salt-and-pepper stubble that will be shaved before filming starts the next day. As we talk, Cohen has a tendency to fiddle with the cuff of his blue blazer. The Canadian-born actor also has a tendency to crack jokes, displaying the comedic talents that have propelled his career. When asked about how it’s been having the name Michael Cohen lately, for instance, he says that he’s had it: “I’m thinking of changing my name to Paul Manafort.”

Today, a central struggle for openly transgender actors is combatting the expectation that they should play transgender characters. If Cohen has been hemmed in, it’s only by the perception that he’s a character actor — a type of thespian he defines as “not good looking enough to sleep with a leading woman.”

He recalls watching The Carol Burnett Show as a kid in Winnipeg, marveling at the way that television can be unifying for people laughing together on a couch “regardless of whatever else is happening in that family unit.” Though Cohen always wanted to be an actor, there was a time early in his career when he focused on behind-the-scenes work and voice acting instead. “I think I loved acting so much,” he says, “that I didn’t want to do it as a woman.” Eventually, his love of acting won out. Cohen played female roles until he transitioned in 2000, a process that, in his case, involved medical treatment as well as changes in how he presented himself socially.

Some years later, Cohen left the studios of Toronto for Hollywood and started landing roles at a greater clip. In 2014, he began appearing on Henry Danger. Today, more than 750,000 kids tune in to watch the sitcom each week. According to Nickelodeon — which, along with parent company Viacom, shares wholehearted support for Cohen and “diversity in all its forms” — it’s the number one live-action kids’ show on basic cable. Adults may have seen Cohen elsewhere, on sitcoms like Powerless, in films or commercials like a Wendy’s “Biggie Bag” spot that has been airing recently.

Actor Michael D. Cohen on the set of Henry Danger in Burbank, Calif. on April 16, 2019.

Actor Michael D. Cohen on the set of Henry Danger in Burbank, Calif. on April 16, 2019.

Ryan Pfluger for TIME

Another reason Cohen wants to publicly talk about his history now is that he is preparing to put on a new production, a play about his life that has been in the making for the past fifteen years. In the one-man show that he wrote and stars in — called “4 Cubits Make a Man,” a reference to Leonardo Da Vinci’s famous Vitruvian specimen — he chronicles how he came to grips with his identity, as well as how he navigated family, romantic relationships and widespread ideas about what makes someone a man.

“It is not random, it is not arbitrary, it is not chosen,” he says of gender identity. “It’s like trying to negotiate with gravity.”

The play, funny enough to get the audience through the raw pain of many scenes, centers on this tension. “In my experience, I was born male. What my body said about it was irrelevant,” Cohen says. “No matter how hard I tried, it was not up for negotiation. Believe me, it would have been so convenient if I was actually a woman.”

People like him are not, as some social conservatives have suggested in fiery debates about LGBTQ rights, the product of “radical ideology” spreading around the Internet or a figment of anyone’s imagination, he says. “My chromosomes do not dictate my gender. I’m a man,” Cohen says. “It’s not that hard.”

In the play, Cohen also explains why he does not describe himself as transgender.

He understands that this word is commonly used by people who identify with a gender other than the sex they were assigned at birth. Many people “feel that does reflect their identity and they’re very comfortable with that, and that’s completely valid,” he says. But, for him, the term feels off, and he does not want to make compromises about how he describes himself at this point in his life. “I have worked so hard to get to the truth and I’ve taken on labels in the past that didn’t feel true for the sake of convenience at that moment,” he says. While the word transgender may describe his past or his transition, he says, he has always felt his “core being” was male, and so that is the language he uses.

Cohen knows that may seem complicated. But that comes with the territory. He believes that animus toward people like him — however they identify — comes in part from the fact that their existence complicates simple maxims about gender. That is part of what has made transgender people a target in political battles over issues like the sports, religious freedom and civil rights. And Cohen wants to stand with them. “These are my people. I belong to this group,” he says of Americans who have been affected by policies like the Trump Administration’s guidance on Title IX, the law that prohibits sex discrimination in education.

Though Nickelodeon has been supportive, Cohen knows this is a complicated time to be making this disclosure in Hollywood, too. The entertainment industry continues to grapple with what it means to be inclusive, and while LGBTQ issues are intermingling with kids’ programming more than in the past, sensitivities remain. Cohen is hopeful about the message that his continued presence on the show — which has filmed more than 100 episodes and was recently picked up for 10 more — will send to young viewers who are attuned to issues of gender identity. Yet he is also prepared for backlash from parents.

“People don’t understand. They think this has to do with sexuality and it doesn’t. They think this has to do with pushing an agenda on kids and it doesn’t,” he says. “What it does is send a message to kids that whoever they are, however they identify, that’s celebrated and valued and okay.”

There’s something about Cohen that kids respond to, the producers of Henry Danger say. Maybe it’s his small stature. Maybe it’s his talent for physical comedy. Maybe it’s the feeling that Schwoz is a fantastical bridge between the grownup and kid worlds.

Chris Nowak, the showrunner for Henry Danger, says that colleagues respect what Cohen has told them but continue to see him as they always have: “Just a guy who’s real good at his job.” Jace Norman, a teen heartthrob who plays the show’s protagonist, Henry Hart, says in an email that the news “didn’t change anything about the high level of respect and admiration I have for the guy,” and thinks “it’s in the best interest of the entire world to have every type of person represented on TV.”

On set, Cohen’s news seems to have been processed with little hubbub. Of far more concern is the timing for delivering jokes as he flees, still in his spandex getup, from a frazzled woman who has traveled back from the future to warn everyone that humanity will be enslaved by robots. As she pursues him, Schwoz zips frantically around the show’s secret superhero lair like he’s in a Benny Hill chase scene. In between takes, he jokes that, for this particular episode, he has been drawing inspiration from Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard.

However frivolous it is, when the episode airs, it will reflect a serious reality back to the actor: that the world sees him as he sees himself, a guy who plays another guy on TV. And he hopes that sharing the fuller picture might make the idea of disclosure less uncomfortable for others. “If I tell my truth,” Cohen says, “that gives other people permission to tell theirs too.”

Write to Katy Steinmetz at katy.steinmetz@time.com.

[writingmi]

We're Now Married | Tom Holland x Reader (Part 1)

“You could still back out, you know,” Kenna, the eldest of your band, muttered. You nodded in acknowledgement at this. You knew this wasn’t one of your best decisions. The fact that you’re doing this alone and not with your band was a dangerous territory in itself. But you couldn’t pass up the chance to be in a world-wide show with an actor who is also known world-wide. “It’s not too late, (y/n).”

“You could still back out, you know,” Kenna, the eldest of your band, muttered. You nodded in acknowledgement at this. You knew this wasn’t one of your best decisions. The fact that you’re doing this alone and not with your band was a dangerous territory in itself. But you couldn’t pass up the chance to be in a world-wide show with an actor who is also known world-wide. “It’s not too late, (y/n).”

“I know, Kenna,” you grumbled. She was only looking out for you, you know that. That fact made it even harder for you to back out. You’re the youngest of the band, sure, but that doesn’t mean that you’re a kid. you’re already 20, for God’s sake!

“Don’t worry, Kenna,” your guitarist, Arabella, called out. Her brown hair was swaying back and forth as she walked towards the two of you. You couldn’t help but giggle a little when she almost bumped into one of the crew. She slid into her seat beside you and patted your head, grinning . “(Y/n)'s a wise girl and she can make decisions on her own.”

“I know that,” Kenna grumbled, pinching her nose. “I can’t help but worry.”

“All you do is worry,” Elyse slid into her seat, wrapping an arm around Kenna’s shoulder. You smiled at the two, loving how close the four of you had gotten in the past year. “Try and relax a little.”

“5 minutes till we start!” The producer called out, her voice ringing around the small cafe. It was small and cozy, and there were small plants hanging from the ceiling, giving the small cafe a green tint. This would have been a cafe you visited more often if you pursued college instead of stardom.

Rubbing your hands, you smiled at your members. They grinned back at you before bursting into a laugh.

“I can’t believe the youngest of Unisex is finally getting married!” Elise squealed, reaching over to pinch you cheek. This girl is hyper, you can’t help but chuckle at it.

All of you stopped laughing when a small rectangular box was given to you. It was pink with small hearts decorating it.

“What is it?” Kenna asked. “Is it a gift? Is there a ring inside?”

“It’s too early for that, Kenna,” you laughed. This was nerve-wracking and exciting at the same time. All you could hope was that your partner would be a nice man that you could get along well.

The producer was calling out some commands to the crew before he announced, “Settle! Action!”

“Okay, let’s open it,” Kenna said, clapping her hands. “In 3, 2, 1!”

“What’s in it?” You immediately asked, leaning on the table. Your stomach dropped when you saw that it was a phone and a small card. You didn’t know what you were expexting but it definitely wasn’t this.

Ara picked up the small card while you plucked the phone from the box, inspecting it a little. “To Mrs. (Y/n), your virtual marriage will be starting tomorrow!”

Elise and Kenna shrieked. You laugh at their antics. Sure, this was all acting and you can feel the cameras staring at you. But it was endearing when they can still act normal despite many eyes watching.

“I'm kind of guilty that I’m the one getting married first before you guys,” you admitted.

“You can give this to me, then,” Kenna said, grabbing the small box. The laughter didn’t die down and you could hear the small crew laughing along.

“I have a question,” raising her hand, Elise’s voice stopped the laughter. “What should we call him?”

Call him? They haven’t even met him and now they’re wondering what to call him?

“Brother-in-law!” Ara crowed.

“Brother-in-law?!” You repeated. That’s specific and awkward. “Why are you asking this anyway?”

“So that we know what to call him if we meet,” she answered, flipping her hair. “When we meet, I mean.”

“Anyway, let’s open the phone!” You set the phone at the center of the table so that everyone could see. When you opened the phone, there was only the messaging app in the middle of the screen.

“What do you wanna do? Do you want to text first?” Elise suggested, wriggling her eyebrows. You threw a napkin at her face, shaking your head lighty.

“She shouldn’t,” Kenna muttered to herself. You nodded. “Girls aren’t usually the ones who makes the first move.”

“But why isn’t he sending anything?” you moaned, arms stretching out on the table and laying down your head. The nervousness was getting to you and you want to get this over with. What’s more, you have to put up an act in which you’re excited to talk and meet with a total stranger.

“There isn’t anything to fret about,” Ara soothed, patting your head. She was the motherly kind of your group and she’s especially close to you. This is probably due to the fact that the both of you auditioned together for the studion. “They probably didn’t tell him anything so that’s why he hasn’t sent anything.”

You swiped around with the phone. You could feel the others’ stares around you and could hear someone chuckle in amusement. While they were talking and wondering about your partner, you debated on whether to pick up that phone and make the first move.

When you were little, your father told you that girls don’t take initiative when it comes to things like this. But right now, you wanted to say a small ‘Hello’ or send a wave but that would be too bold. Especially when this would be broad-casted worldwide and you wanted to look good for your father.

You jumped when a loud ‘Ping’ resounded and echoed around the room. “It’s here, it’s here, it’s here,” you muttered, standing up and rubbing your arms. All of you stared at Elise, waiting for her to read the text.

“What are you guys looking at?” she asked.

“Read it!”

“There is no text,” she laughed. You squint your eyes at her, sure that you just heard something. “I just wanted to make sure that the phone isn’t defective so I clicked around.”

All of you groaned. This was getting nowhere and the nerves are skyrocketing every second. What if your partner backed out? God, this was a waste of time that should've been spent practicing for your next album.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll put it down now,” Ara apologized but not before laughing loudly every 5 seconds.

“But this person seems like he’s very careful,” Elise observed. Ths made everyone quiet down. You couldn’t help but glare playfully at her.

“Hey, don’t criticize my husband,” you said, slamming your fist down at the table. They stared at you wide-eyed and you fought the urge to break out a smile. This is all acting for the sake of the show.

“You guys haven’t even started yet,” Kenna argued. “You guys are starting tomorrow, you know. And we’re all sad right now because you’re getting married first.”

The playful atmosphere was back and all of you are now back to laughing and messing with each other. This js what you love about your group. No one takes anything personally because all of you are way past personally knowing each other. Everyone of you have memorized each other emotionally and mentally like the backs of your hands.

“Guys should be the one who makes the first move, you know,” you said. All this waiting was making you tired. And thirsty.

For about three minutes, the four ofyou were just goofing around. You can’t help but glance at the phone every now and again. You weren’t really an impatient type of kid but a guy shouldn’t make a woman wait, especially when he knows that a woman is waiting.

Another loud ‘Ping’ rang out and this time, you all held your breath as Kenna opened the phone. You could hear your heart beating loudly through your ears, or maybe that’s just the blood rushing. It was a little bit despicable, really, how you were waiting for a single text from a stranger.

“He just said ‘hello’,” Kenna announced. Wow. All of you were worrying and all you get was just one text. This reality show business is now getting funnier and funnier to you.

“What if you be straightforward?” Elise said, grabbing the phone. Now, they’re the one who’s texting him when you’re the wife. “‘Who are you?’”

“That’s a little bold, don’t you think?” you babbled. What if you were coming off too strong? God, this really isn’t helping with anything.

“Oh, he sent a pic!”

“This could be anyone!” you moaned. He was clever, you have to admit. Making the pic black and white and cropping out half of his face. Half of his face… you shook that thought out of your head. It couldn’t be. “What should I send?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Ara said. She was giving out instructions and poses for you, which you immediately followed. Now, this was familiar. Posing for pics wasn’t a problem for you and it was just a matter of time before you found the right angle and lighting. They had you transfer to another table and grab a random book out of the shelf that was at the corner. Their efforts in making you faceless was kind of witty and resourceful, you have to give them that.

“And… send!” Kenna announced. “Ugh, I’m so excited for tomorrow!”

“Oh, wait there’s another card,” you said, taking the card that was handed out to you from the cameraman. “Tomorrow is the day the both of you would meet. Prepare a small gift for your husband and enjoy a day together.

“I’m already a gift, aren’t I?” The members snickered at your suggestion. “Well, what do you suggest?”

“Let’s clean up now,” Kenna said. You groaned at her dismissal. A gift… it’s hard to think of one when you don’t know if the person would even like it.

“Is there any other girl like me?” You asked them.

“Well, no."

“That’s why!” You grinned. “I’m the best gift for him!”

Prologue

Part 1

Part 2

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