#you could say i could have drawn it this whole time

[akamitrani]

— Backstage Pass —

David Howard Thornton x Fem!Reader (Pt.1?)

Warnings: Mild suggestive, flirting (and the massive amount of tension that comes with it), release of the tension, slow burn.

Summary: You manage to get backstage access to a Terrifier panel where David is present, you end up striking a conversation with him and one thing leads to another.

[A/N: Hi guys, this is my first ever published fanfic – Be kind ☠️ – Sorry if anything lol. Btw, I hope y'all like to read fr cuz this fanfic surely is for readers]

[ · · · ]

The low hum of the convention floor buzzed around you, but for the moment, it felt as though the world had quieted down. You stood backstage, just outside the makeshift white room where David was preparing for a panel at the horror convention. Your excitement of meeting the actor behind Art the Clown was palpable, it was the man himself – the warm, approachable, and genuine David

You had spent the better part of the day anxiously navigating your way through autograph lines, fan meet-and-greets and photo ops, but now, standing backstage, you had a rare chance to speak with him outside the chaos. You never expected an encounter like this but here you were, a quiet moment with the very man who had terrified and fascinated you all at once

David’s head peeked from behind the curtains, his bright blue eyes meeting yours – “Hey! You’re the one who was talking about makeup techniques earlier, right?” – his voice had a casual charm, free of any of the sinister vibes Art was known for

You nodded, a bit stunned that he’d even remembered you from earlier in the day – “I'm Y/N by the way... And yeah, I’m just starting to get into prosthetics, but I love how the horror community brings so many elements together”

He smiled, a grin that reached his eyes and softened the sharpness of his features – “Y/N. And oh I totally get that. There’s something about horror that feels like a puzzle, you know? Acting, makeup, lighting… everything needs to come together for the whole thing to work”

It felt like a small moment of mutual understanding, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to his enthusiasm. Here was David, the man behind the terrifying clown, speaking with such openness.

“So...” – David said after a beat, his tone playful – “what’s your favorite kind of horror?”

“It’s a toss-up but I’d say psychological horror, something that messes with your mind, makes you question what’s real” – You said

He nodded thoughtfully, his expression turning serious for a moment – “Yeah, that kind of horror is powerful. But I have to admit, sometimes I miss just making people jump... It’s a bit of a guilty pleasure for me”

You laughed loud, the sound echoing through the quiet backstage space – “I bet! It’s a great feeling though, knowing you can make people react like that”

David’s eyes lit up, a mischievous glint appearing – “Well... I think we’ve got some time for a little more talking, but it’s not going to be quieter once the panel starts, I'll eventually get busy... You’re sticking around, right?”

You hesitated, the pull of curiosity and excitement making you eager to continue the conversation – “Of course! After the panel, would you like to talk more? What about... Grabbing a drink?”

David raised an eyebrow, the playful smile tugging at his lips again – “Perfect, was just thinking the same thing. And I could definitely use a quiet moment away from the crowd... There's a nice café nearby, just behind the building”

You felt a jolt of anticipation. This was no longer just a fan encounter. The conversation had shifted from polite exchanges to something more personal, a subtle invitation hanging in the air

“Perfect!” – You replied, feeling your nerves melt away – “See you there then”

“I'll be there as soon as the panel is finished" – He replied

[ · · · ]

sorry but I don't have the patience

to write a 'in between' lol

You entered the café David mentioned about earlier, the ambiance was calm as expected. Dave was already there tucked in a corner booth, his eyes eventually meet yours and he sweetly waves at you. Walking in his direction you sat down, wasting no time to start chatting. David had his hands wrapped around his coffee mug, leaning slightly forward, completely engrossed in the story you were telling him

“And that’s when I realized..." – you laughed, glancing down in embarrassment – “I’d been talking to the director with fake blood still smeared all across my cheek!”

David chuckled – “You’d fit right in on a horror set with a story like that” – he said, tilting his head with that trademark playful smile – “Sounds like you were born for the genre”

You felt a warmth rise in your cheeks, not just from the flattery but from the way he looked at you — as if you two were the only people in the room. For someone who could be so chillingly silent in his role as Art, David had an openness and kindness that made you feel immediately at ease

Both of you shared another laugh, you noticed his fingers drumming gently against the ceramic cup, a little habit he seemed unaware of. The small, endearing detail felt so far removed from the menacing persona he played on screen. In that moment, you wondered how many people really got to see him this way, relaxed and unguarded

“So” – David said, breaking the silence – “I have to ask... why horror? Why would you willingly choose a field that involves blood, guts, and a thousand ways to terrify an audience?”

You took a sip of your coffee, considering an answer – “I think it’s the honesty of it... Horror doesn’t hide from what people fear. It embraces it. And creating that… It’s almost like a dance between knowing what scares people and making them feel safe enough to face it. It’s–”

“Powerful” David finished for you, a look of understanding in his eyes – “Yeah. I think I know what you mean” – he paused – “That’s exactly what draws me to it. There’s something about the way people’s walls come down when they’re scared. You can see who they really are”

Your eyes met with his, a silence settled between you and him, charged with something unspoken. You felt a flutter of nervous excitement, this was David Howard Thornton, a master of horror, sharing his personal thoughts with you as if you were an old friend

“Hey-” – David’s voice softened, breaking the tension – “I just realized how late it’s getting. But honestly…” – He glanced down, almost shyly, before looking back up with a small grin – “I don't want this conversation to end just yet”

You hadn't realized how much time had passed, you feel your heart skip – “Me neither...”

He hesitated, then gave a casual shrug – “I have a bottle of wine back at my hotel...” – he said with a hint of playful mischief – “If you’re up for it, we could keep talking there... No pressure though — I promise I’m far less terrifying off the set”

You both laughed, but you felt a thrill run through your body. You weren’t entirely sure what to expect, but the invitation in his eyes, the warmth in his smile, left little room for doubt

“Well...” – you said, mirroring his grin – “as long as you leave the clown mask behind”

David let out a low, warm chuckle and reached out, his hand brushing against yours just briefly – “Deal.”

[ · · · ]

at the hotel

The elevator doors slid open, then shut with a soft thud – the hum of the machine filled the otherwise quiet space between you both. David stood closer, his presence palpable as the two of you ascended to the upper floors. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, the subtle hint of his musky cologne, the faint rustle of his clothes as he shifted slightly

The tension from the café was still there – unspoken, but thick. You could both feel it in the air, like an electric charge that had been building ever since the moment you'd first exchanged words. But now, in this small quiet space, it was almost impossible to ignore

David caught your eye, a soft smirk playing at the corner of his mouth – “I’m glad you agreed to come. It’s nice to get away from the madness for a bit you know”

You nodded but you could feel your heart rate picking up, the proximity between you and him making your thoughts scatter – “Yeah, it’s… really nice” – your voice sounded quieter than usual, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he is standing, how his shoulder brushed against yours every so often

The elevator dinged, signaling the arrival at David’s floor, you both stepped out. David led the way to his room, his long strides confident, though there was a subtle energy about him – something different than the actor you’d seen on stage. The man before them now seemed grounded, a little more vulnerable, but still just as captivating

As you two reached the door, David turned to you with a quiet smile – “Make yourself at home” – he said, pushing the door open and holding it for you to enter. The room was cozy, warmly lit

You stepped in, the scent of fresh linen and something faintly musky lingering in the air, his cologne you thought. You took a moment to glance around but David was already moving toward the small bar area by the window, pouring two glasses of wine

“Care for something?” – he asked, glancing over his shoulder with a playful glint in his eyes

“Sure, why not?” – You replied, voice a little breathless. It was hard to focus on anything other than the man before you, the way he moved, how effortlessly he carried himself. It was a strange mix of charm and allure, the kind of presence that seemed to draw people in without effort

David handed you the glass, his fingers brushing for just a second longer than necessary. His touch lingered, and you both looked up at the same time, locking eyes. There was something in his gaze – soft yet intense.

“Cheers” – he murmured lifting his own glass, clinking your drinks together

The conversation flowed easily at first, light and casual, but the air felt heavier now. David shifted slightly, moving a little closer as he leaned against the back of a chair, eyes never leaving yours. It wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was the opposite.

You set your drink down on the table, feeling a quiet tension building – “You know... I never thought I’d end up in a hotel room with someone like you”

David raised an eyebrow – “Someone like me?”

You laughed softly, a little nervous – “Yeah, someone so… different from Art”

David’s smile deepened, and he moved a fraction closer – “I think I’m a little more like Art than you realize” – he teased, there was a softness in his voice and a hint of something else, something that wasn’t just playful

“I don’t know…” – your voice faltering for a moment – “M-maybe you’re right”

David didn’t say anything for a moment, but his gaze darkened just slightly, his focus never wavering. He stepped a little closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the best way

“You know Y/N” he said quietly, almost a whisper – “I’m glad you stayed”

[···]

The silence between you both thickened, hanging in the air. David's gaze softened, his lips parting slightly as though he was considering something. Drawn to the warmth of his presence, you got closer. David didn't move away. Instead, he stood perfectly still, giving you space to decide what to do next. A quiet hunger in the way he looked at you.

“I dont want to rush this” – David said softly, voice low and deliberate – “But, I can't pretend I'm not completely drawn to you”

You reached up, fingers brushing against his arm, the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. David inhaled sharply, his body tensing just a bit at the contact.

“Are you sure?” – he whispered, his hand reached out, fingers barely grazing the edge of your wrist. You nodded, voice barely above a breath – “Yeah, I'm sure.”

David's hand gently cupped the side of your face, thumb grazing the curve of your jaw – savoring every second. David's face was so close now that you could feel his breath against your skin.

His lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first. His hands slid down, pulling you closer. He grabs your waist hard and you accidentally let out a small moan... That's when he finally kisses you, letting out a low whimper himself. The kiss gets deeper, sucking and biting. You respond instinctively, fingers threading through his gray hair, drawing him in as the kiss became more urgent, more desperate.

You break the kiss for a moment to catch your breath, foreheads resting against each other and trying to collect yourselves. This had been building all night, ready to break.

“You're incredible” – David murmured, his voice thick with desire

You met his gaze – “I can say the same about you”

“I've wanted this all night” – He confessed

David's hands slid down your back, guiding you firmly towards him, towards his thighs. Now straddling him, your fingers tightened in his hair as his hands moved, exploring the curves of your waist, savoring every detail about it. His hands slid down your dress, up your thighs and finally resting on the hem of your panties... His eyes pledged for yours, for assurance – You nodded

“You're not going to regret this” he whispered

[ferigrieving]

endless rebirth.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ all time ever does is pass / and all i ever do is remember.

a.n. this one goes out to all my best friend situationship survivors

⤷ masterlist ; requests open ; 3.4k

last seen online two minutes ago.

god was not a forgiving man. your grandfather often sat you down when you were little to give you advice. how to spend your money, what books you should read. the best way to cross multiply, and how to find if a watermelon is ripe. he spoke of god, how he put humans through misery so that they may turn to him in their darkest hour. but, you wondered, why would he go out of his way simply to bring suffering?

you’ve known it in every form, thoroughly, intimately, a constant companion that crept closer in the quiet hours of the night. you wore is as if it were a second skin, as natural as the ringing in your ears and the ache in your bones. but it was never the kind of suffering that led you to god. you held no reverence for heaven or forgiveness; you’d never prayed, not in any way that would make a difference. it felt pointless to call out for mercy that only ever seemed to find the pure-hearted, the faithful, the ones who deserved salvation. and if there was a god out there, watching from some celestial height, he must have looked upon you with indifference, untouched by the wreckage of a boy with everything he could want, except the one thing he’d ever asked for.

because even the blessed know loneliness; even those born with everything can feel like they have nothing at all.

you were one of them. you’d had it all—a family who could provide, a home you could call safe, a life laid out like a gilded path in front of you. even as a child, you were the one others looked at with envy, the boy whose future shone bright and certain. even if the family didnt see you as a child, and home was the creak in the night and the chair under the door. even if the life laid out for you didnt have your fingerprints on it, it was still a life, and it was still yours.

but as if that wasn’t enough, as if the gods themselves wanted to ensure your life would be untouched by misfortune, they’d placed him in your life: a boy with hair as white as the first snow, eyes a shade of blue that felt like eternity, so piercing they could reach into you and pull out every hidden truth you thought you’d buried deep.

touya todoroki had been your best friend, your everything. he was the kind of friend that came into your life like a promise, a constant that felt more real than the ground beneath your feet. you’d known him since you were small, back when the world felt endless, and the future was nothing more than an idea far out on the horizon. you’d played together in empty streets, found secret hideouts in crumbling parks, shared late-night secrets that felt too sacred to be spoken aloud. you told him things you’d never told anyone, and he listened with that quiet intensity of his, a fierce kind of loyalty that made you feel invincible. even in the silence between you, you felt understood, held in a way that words couldn’t touch.

and maybe that was your mistake—thinking that kind of bond was unbreakable, thinking he could feel the same way you did.

as you got older, your feelings shifted, grew deeper and darker, a quiet ache that settled in your bones. you couldn’t say when admiration turned to something more, when you started noticing the way his hair caught the sunlight, or the way his eyes seemed to hold a sadness he wouldn’t let anyone else see. you felt drawn to him in a way that defied reason, a kind of yearning that made you feel unworthy, a love so consuming it threatened to swallow you whole. he became the center of your world, the gravity that kept you steady, and for a while, you thought maybe that was enough. maybe you didn’t need anything else but this—just the two of you, a silent understanding, a love you could carry like a secret.

until you realized it wasn’t enough. you couldn’t settle for half-measures, for the pain of living so intimately with a person without ever telling them how you feel. you wanted to shout your love from the rooftops, to grab him and shake him and tell him everything, every little thing you knew he deserved to hear. to kiss him until he couldn't think of anything but the feeling of his lips on yours. to have the planes and dips of his skin memorized like the back of your hand. you wanted him so desperately it hurt.

and it was only when you left that you felt it, that quiet ache like an old wound torn open, raw and bleeding, a feeling that had been waiting patiently beneath the surface. distance brought clarity, peeled back the layers of friendship to reveal something darker, something heavier. you hadn’t wanted to admit it, hadn’t wanted to face the truth of it, but the miles stretched out between you like an open wound, and suddenly, you couldn’t keep it inside. you spent every night replaying his laugh, the way his eyes softened in the moments he let his guard down, the feeling of his hand gripping your shoulder like it was a promise. your first sleepover together, and how he stayed up to watch over you even in a house you both considered safe. and it struck you then, with a force that left you breathless—you loved him, in a way that made your heart feel both full and hollow, like it could shatter at any moment under the weight of it.

you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud. maybe you knew, somewhere deep down, that words would only turn him to stone, would only push him further away. so you confessed through the dim light of a screen, fingers trembling as you typed out the words that had been tearing at your chest: touya, i think i love you. i think i’ve always loved you, ever since third grade. im sorry for not telling me sooner. you dont have to answer. it was a hope and a surrender, a feeling you were willing to give up just for a moment of honesty, just to say the words you’d been choking on for years.

but he didn’t respond. silence—heavy, suffocating silence filled the space between you, creeping in like a fog until it was all you could feel. and then, slowly, as the days stretched on, he began to disappear. his messages grew shorter, colder, each one a reminder that you’d crossed an invisible line you could never uncross. you tried to pretend it was nothing, told yourself he just needed time, that he would come back when he was ready. but weeks turned to months, and with each passing day, the emptiness left by his absence settled deeper into your bones.

it was when you came home, after a year of thinking of his face, imagining the teary reunion that would surely happen, that you realized there was no more room in touya todoroki’s heart for you or your love. you begged, pleaded to see him. you went as far as asking his friends, his new friends that he, in the short times you two have ever spoke, would rave on and on about. they don't know who you are, but you know everything about them and then a little bit more.

longing feels like dying, you think, when the one you long for has already buried you.

before you left, you had had a going away party. a memorial for someone who was still alive. everyone and their mother came, but you had never once heard a ‘goodbye.’ it was as if it was simply just another day to everybody else, another tick on the to do list that made up their lives. you held your friends closer than anything in the world, even closer than yourself, but it seemed that you were simply an extra, unnamed background character number fourty two.

it was at your coming home party, that you realized that maybe, just maybe, no one truly ever did miss you. you had given, and given, and given, expecting nothing in return. yet, you still found yourself disappointed, a standard set by no one other than yourself.

coming home was supposed to be a celebration, or at least that’s what everyone had told you. they'd said it a thousand times over text, in passing messages with all the warmth of idle conversation: we miss you, you should come home, it won’t be the same until you’re back. their words had painted pictures in your mind, scenes where your old friends would smile when they saw you, arms open and waiting, voices ready to fill the quiet spaces with laughter and stories. so you’d returned, carrying the weight of those promises like fragile glass, hoping they’d finally feel real when you were back.

but the day of the party, the pavilion was empty, a hollow space filled only with the faint echo of all the words you’d once believed in. the decorations, scattered around like abandoned ideas, only served to highlight the absence—the banner you’d hung with such care, the chairs set out in neat rows, the quiet music playing to no one. you had spent hours upon hours making enough food for everyone, and then a little bit more, but you knew now that it would all go to waste.

you stood there, alone, in a park shelter meant to hold laughter, a celebration that would never happen. each empty table was a testament to how little you truly mattered, to how every promise had been nothing more than a passing thought, the kind of thing people say without a second of real intent.

and maybe you could have excused it, maybe you could have forgiven the empty seats, the quiet that lingered in place of familiar voices, if only he had shown up. you’d asked him, in a text you’d rewritten a dozen times, fingers hovering over each word as if they were spells that could either save or shatter you. you’d asked him to come to your birthday party, your homecoming, and for one wild, fleeting moment, you’d let yourself believe he’d say yes. because this was touya, your best friend, the one person you thought might still care, the one connection that had held you together even when he’d slipped away.

but his response had been cold, a few clipped words that cut deeper than you wanted to admit. he’d said he’d think about it, that he’d ‘try to make it if he could’, and you’d told yourself it was enough. you’d clung to the hope that he’d show up at the last minute, that you’d turn around and see him standing there, hands shoved into his pockets, eyes averted in that familiar way that always said more than his words ever did. but the hours dragged on, the shadows grew longer, and still, he didn’t come. each passing moment twisted something inside you, the raw realization settling deeper with every empty second.

you stared at your phone, watching as the screen stayed blank, no new messages, no sign that anyone had even thought to send a quick, sorry i can’t make it. you scrolled through old conversations, messages from a time when his words had been full of something you could almost call warmth, small memories that once meant everything. he wasnt even the one to send the last message. in a momentof weakness, of pure unadulterated desperation, you had fucking apologized. you had apologized to the boy who had ruined your life without even so lifting a finger. you had apologized to the boy who had thrown away a decade of friendship with no explanation. 

it was strange, really, the way people had been so quick to say they missed you, how they’d filled the distance with hollow words that felt warm at the time, only to leave you standing here, alone. and maybe you were foolish for believing them, for thinking that coming home would mean anything to anyone but you. but it was the kind of foolishness you couldn’t shake, the kind that clung to you like a second skin.

and as the night dragged on, you thought of him, of the nights you’d spent side by side as kids, when silence had been a comfortable thing, something you shared rather than endured. you thought of the promises you’d made to each other, the secrets you’d shared in whispered words and half-smiles. he was your best friend, you reminded yourself, though the words felt empty now, a title that meant nothing to the boy he’d become, to the stranger who had taken you place.

nothing feels quite so empty as the box of friendship bracelets under your bed, and the polaroids littered around your room.

you sat down in one of the empty benches, a strange kind of calm settling over you as you took in the world, as if you were watching someone else’s life unravel before your eyes. the decorations, the banner, the scattered plates and untouched cake—each one a relic of something you’d once held onto, a dream that had been stripped bare by the harsh light of reality. you realized, with a hollow sort of ache, that you were mourning something that had never been real, an idea you’d built up in your mind to fill the spaces touya had left behind.

and maybe this was the last piece, the final understanding that would set you free. you’d come home expecting something that had died long ago, hoping for a welcome that had never truly existed. you’d held onto him, onto the memory of what he’d once been to you, because it was easier than facing the truth—that he’d left you, that he’d moved on, that he no longer cared in the way you’d so desperately wanted him to.

and now, as the silence wrapped around you, you knew there was nothing left to hold onto, nothing but the empty echoes of a friendship that had long since turned to dust.

you sat there as the sun began to sink lower, casting long shadows that swallowed the room, filling it with a quiet, creeping darkness. the decorations hung limply in the dim light, colors fading into gray, and the quiet settled in heavy, pressing against you like a weight you couldn’t shake. time passed, though you couldn’t tell how much; the world outside had started to move on, but you were frozen, caught in a moment that refused to let you go. each second bled into the next, and the silence was deafening, louder than any noise you’d ever known.

then, a vibration—soft, unassuming, but it broke through the stillness like a crack in a wall you’d built too carefully. your phone screen lit up, casting a faint glow in the dim room, and you felt a pang of something close to dread as you looked down. it was a notification, one of those reminders from social media that knew nothing of timing or tact. one year ago today, it read, a cheerful, oblivious message meant to bring back memories you’d rather forget. you stared at the words, heart twisting, but your fingers moved on their own, opening the message, unlocking the flood of images you’d buried.

grief has a strange way of making you revisit the very things that caused it.

you scrolled, slowly at first, as if each image was a jagged shard of glass you were forcing yourself to touch. there he was, smiling in ways he never did anymore, a version of him you’d once thought would last forever. picture after picture of moments that had felt eternal at the time—a laugh caught mid-sentence, his eyes bright and unguarded, his arm slung casually over your shoulders like he belonged there, like he would never let go.

you’d saved them all—every photo, every fragment of time, a relic of a life you could no longer touch. they were tucked away, hidden in a separate folder on your phone, backed up to an old hard drive you kept locked in a drawer, like a secret you couldn’t let go of. you’d even printed some of them out, tucked them into an album you’d once thought you’d look back on with fondness, with the kind of nostalgia that softened the edges of the past. but now, they felt like a mockery, a taunt from a version of you who had been naive enough to believe in forever.

it’s a strange kind of grief, to mourn something that still exists, to miss a person who is still alive. 

photo after photo, and the ache in your chest grew sharper with each one. you saw yourself too, standing beside him, a younger version of you with eyes bright and full of a hope you couldn’t recognize anymore. you were looking at him in most of the photos, a soft smile playing on your lips, an expression that had meant everything, even though you hadn’t known it then. it was the look of someone who’d thought love was enough, who’d believed that the strength of feeling could somehow hold two people together, even as time and distance and life tried to tear them apart.

you swiped, faster now, letting the images blur together, a rush of memories that felt like quicksand, pulling you deeper the more you fought it. there were pictures from the park, the dimly lit streets where you’d spent endless nights talking about nothing and everything. the tree you’d both carved your initials into, as if that would somehow immortalize what you felt. you’d been so young, so certain, holding onto a faith in him that had become the foundation of your world.

but now, it felt like those memories belonged to someone else—a ghost of you who hadn’t known that love could be so easily discarded, so readily forgotten. the boy who’d taken those photos, who’d saved them with such reverence, was gone, replaced by someone who knew better, who understood that sometimes, love wasn’t enough. and the boy beside you, with white hair and that rare, brilliant smile, was gone too, replaced by someone who barely remembered the promises you’d made to each other.

you put your phone down, the screen darkening as the last image faded, leaving you alone again in the empty room, surrounded by the remnants of a life that no longer felt real. everything you’d held onto, every piece of him you’d preserved, felt hollow now, nothing more than echoes in a room that had once been filled with laughter and warmth. you could feel the weight of it all settling into your bones, the kind of ache that would stay with you long after the party was over, long after the decorations were taken down and the memories had faded.

the truth of it all was simple, brutal—no amount of memories could bring him back, no picture could capture what was already lost.

you stayed there, watching the last light of the sun disappear beyond the horizon, leaving you in the dark. you’d come home hoping to find something, some sense of closure, some sign that what you’d shared with him had meant something. but all you’d found was an empty park, a collection of memories that felt more like ashes than embers, and the hollow realization that he was never coming back, that you’d been clinging to a dream that had died long ago.

the world grew colder as night settled in, and you let yourself sink into the silence, letting go of the last remnants of hope you’d carried with you. the phone lay silent beside you, and you knew, with a certainty that felt like peace and despair all at once, that you’d never pick it up to look at those photos again.

you stood up, feeling the weight of it all settle into your bones, a heaviness that was both familiar and strangely liberating. the room was empty, yes, and so was your heart, but maybe that was what you needed—an ending, a final, brutal truth to cut through the illusions you’d been clinging to. and as you turned off the lights, as you left the room and stepped out into the cold night, you felt something inside you finally let go.

all you’d wanted, all you’d needed, was to see him one more time—to feel that connection that had once been your lifeline, to believe that maybe, somehow, he still felt the same.

but touya didnt love you. 

and, if you were honest, you werent sure if you loved yourself, either.

[honeyhour]

“oh, man. we could do anything, really… i think i still have a few of those little flipbooks you used to make when we were younger. there’s bound to be something cute drawn in there somewhere that we could’ve picked.” anybody else might have considered those to be useless at this point and tossed them years ago, but not malia. nostalgia only tightened its grip. “honestly, i have no idea if any of it is accurate in the first place… all the seasons sort of start to blur together after a while. it’s just a bunch of sex and melodrama for the most part, and i would imagine that breaks all sorts of hospital rules.” she’s pretty sure there was also a ghost character at some point which opens up a whole new can of worms if she chooses to think about it for too long. surprisingly though, it isn’t the worst thing she’s sat through during her recovery period so far. she'll try just about anything to help pass the time. “i didn’t say you hated it. i just mean that nobody could be mad at you if you preferred living large somewhere else. there was nothing left for you here, i know that.” she would’ve been a horrible friend if she had tried to hold him back when his talent made it abundantly clear from a young age that he was destined for greater things. “it did get a lot more boring once you left, i won’t lie... almost made me pack my bags and follow you.”

"i know, i know. if we were to get matching tattoos, what do you think we would get?" since she wouldn't wish such pain upon her worst enemy then there's no point in digging deeper. besides, this was a much more interesting topic and entirely hypothetical but it does remind him of how things used to be. evenings turned nights where they'd stare up at the sky, laid upon an open picnic table at the park to just... talk. about anything and everything. dreams, failures, which dinosaur they could take on in a fist fight. "i actually did and thought they were ridiculous for keeping a show on for that long. i don't even know that doctors stick around at hospitals for longer than ten years, let alone twenty? how are they not old and grey yet?" granted, that was under the assumption that releases were yearly and time passed in a similar fashion. his eyes narrow and he's thrown aback ever so slightly, straightening his gait a little the moment he turns his head towards her. "what? come on, malia, i don't hate this place. i... really love it, to be honest. i wasn't really all that desperate to get out either. i just knew that my opportunities ended here. but you? you made this place what it is: home."

[ganondoodle]

with the rough draft for chapter two nearing its completion

if i may dare say this on main, but actually i am unbelievably excited to get to paint demise (tiddies) again

[liauditore]

BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY! BDUBS DAY!

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

in my head I'm just screaming at my sister STOP GETTING ON MY CASE ABOUT THE THEATRE BOY all the time

[carcingeneticist]

am I insane enough to answer all of this? possibly, anyway!

1. It was few years ago in 1st grade of highschool

2. I used to have an motivation to join fandoms that were conciderd cringe or were weird in some way

3. Yes I was in Undertale fandom before so I heard they have refrences to each other. Also I knew it from some infamous events from fandom

4. idk it's hard to say. I love this series and all and I love it's characters and analysing it but overall I'm not sure?

5. Well honestly yeah. It got me into thinking that everything we do might just be pre-planned and we can't do anything about it, which is my main philosophy I'm currently going with. So in some way it kinda influenced my spiritual believe (which is kinda insane ik).

6. Probably reading it for first time. I sometimes want to go back to this timeframe when during summer I've done nothing but just read Homestuck whole day, not knowing things ik about now.

7. OKAY SO HERE'S FUN BACKSTORY THAT HAPPENED THIS YEAR; I was waiting for a class on corridor when suddenly I hear someone talking about "something doing Karkat cosplay" AND I WAS SO TAKEN ABACK BY THIS FACT BECAUSE HOMESTUCK IN YEAR OF OUR LORD 2024???? I didn't had time to catch up with them and instead as any sane person about something which I'm totally am about Homestuck, I made ig story about hearing someone talking about Homestuck and Karkat specifically (and that I'm only one who can cosplay him jk). and it turned out that one of my mutals from school actually knows this person and I thought oh shit that's kinda embarrassing... but like nothing really happened for a while UNTIL WEEK LATER where I wait on same corridor for same class when I see a paper note on one of locker that strangely seem to reassemble Karkat drawing. I thought 'oh shit is that for me?' so I go up there and OH SHIT THAT WAS FOR ME; there was my name on it (although it's more important f my ig handle but yk) and there was infact Karkat drawn there. So I take this note and not only they drew Karkat and Nepeta BUT THEY ALSO MADE A TROLL SONA FOR ME WHICH WAS SO FUCKING WHOLESOME. so I contacted them later through ig and we talked for some time and bonded over our hatred for Vriska lol. anyway I actually met them for first time today (the day I'm typing it) and they are really coo, I showed them where the artist with Homestuck merch was :33

8. I READ IT FULL 2 TIMES!! (well second one was let's read Homestuck but still lol) but it took a while to read it for first time, I remember that for like 3 weeks of summer I were doing nothing but reading Homestuck.

9. KARKAT, KARKAT AND ONCE AGAIN KARKAT. MY BIGGEST KIN AND BLORBO I LOVE THIS GUY TO DEATH

10. Cal. just cal.

11. probably Gamzee but that's a common take i fear

12. common opinion number 2: Dave (but all of beta kids are great and I love them)

13. common opinion number 3: Dirk, but honestly he and Roxy fight in my head for this spot bcs I love them both sm (I actually love all Alpha kids as a group, they have such a great dynamic)

14. common opinion number 4: Karkat obv

15. Porrim is only dancestor I like.

16. Sufferer definitely, I love Jesus analogy with him and Karkat (but I fucking hate kankri).

17. honestly probably John's dad in beta timeline since he was only one who actually cared about his kid, but if we count alpha Dave then him

18. MAYOR. Common opinion number 5

19. Calliope she's honestly such a sweetheart

20: FEFETA JUSTICE!!! >:(( but I also love davepeta^2

21: Idk really!!! I think like I would get along with most characters (except the ones I don't like) but maybe like Roxy or Dirk? or overall Alpha kids actually lol. Also Nepeta would be really fun as a friend!!!

23: I think Terezis one; I love Karkat's because I would actually use that one irl but Terezi's quirk is not only fitting her but also creative in a way you could still read that. also >:?

24: Cronus because it's just Eridans quirk but worse

25: "ATTENTION WORTHLESS HUMAN, THIS IS YOUR GOD SPEAKING"

26. Dirk: Unite Synchronization

27: Heir of Grief easily, my Spotify stat shows that

28: I've been recently constantly listening Sweet - Trickster!Jane song by Phemedic!!! i love how it shows the sugar high as if it was real drugs and it's both sweet but creepy

29. Moonlight Tsundere/ I'm still here/ Calignous Waltz (there's a lot of good ones okay???)

30: One for the money by ikimaru (BUT THERE'S SO MANY GOOD ONES IT'S SO HARD TO CHOOSE ONE AUGHH)

31: I don't rly have one ://

32: YES!!! Okay so I thought about this a lot but 30/90 from Tick tick boom is literally about John/Karkat's birthday

33: Love in time of Juggalos by sburbanite - I CAN'T RECOMMEND THIS FANFIC ENOUGH, PLEASE IF YOU LIKE DAVEKAT AND REINCARNATION AU'S THIS IS LITERALLY BEST THING EVER PLEASE READ IT.

34: IKIMARU, IKIMARU AND ONCE AGAIN IKIMARU, I know they aren't in Homestuck fandom anymore and that's valid but their Homestuck art is so good, it's the most accurate depiction of characters I ever saw I swear. I love their art sm and their artstyle feels so comfy.

35: BET!! So Let's say Davekat would be more of out of quadrant relationship because obv, so then Aradia <3 Sollux, Roxy <> Dirk, John <3< Terezi (only potential healthy kismetitude we were shown) and Karkat o8< Jade o3< Karkat (this is stupidest shit ever and I love it)

36: A few but the one in my mind that stuck in the most is (obv) Karkat goes to convention

37: I spent some time of my life watching analysis videos of Homestuck characters so yeah obv

38. based on the adding your month to date of birth it would be Vriska and honestly no. Just no.

39. Karkat............. And Dirk (who said that??)

40: I DID KARKAT FEW TIMES (I did him yesterday from time of writing this) but I also want to do in future: Dirk, Dave, Gamzee, John and probably more

41: I would want to be derse but sadly I'm too prospit....

42: I hate both but between two bads i would choose meat

43: Fuck felt, make me a member of the midnight crew

44. RARE OPINION I THINK?? But alpha!!!

45. Red because of course

46. Canon, I'm sorry but i'm lore kind of Homestuck reader

47. Knight of heart!!! apparently it's popular classpect but I chose it for myself so it's mine

48. Knights outfit is honestly one of better god tiers designs ( - condom hood) and heart color palette is also one of nicer tho if I could I would change pants and boots.

49. ohh that's actually really interesting! my Homestuck sona color is red and I think it would be same for me (or it could be also hot pink honestly) and for quirk I'm pretty sure it would be same as I type casually (a lot of abbreviation, using mostly lower case and using u instead of you.) but I could also totally go Karkat typing mode.

50: Again same as my sona's; a scythe (or maybe like a kitchen knife)

51: I DON'T HAVE ONE YET!!!! OKAY BUT I CAN THINK OF SOMETHING QUICKLY; CascaderGame? that's stupid but whatever I said I'm just thinking of it as I'm typing.

52: Okay so my first one is definitely Dirk and Nepeta (I just think they would get along great!) also on that note; Karkat and Dirk since I think they would have really fun dynamic. Also John & Karkat since we waited on that for so long. and more interactions between Alpha and Beta kids!!!!

53: As I said earlier yes!!! I have kid Sona Ryan :DD

54: YESS!!! I'm currently in middle of making a whole session with my fantrolls and kids!!!

55: well yes as I said earlier lol

56: Do you mean as in I immediately think of Homestuck or my fav one? the one I almost always think about Homestuck is Zodiac; for me it doesn't exist anymore as just a concept, it's only Homestuck. Also typing quirks are very THE Homestuck refrence.

57: Probably some plushie in my room, I think throwing in my Rainbow dash plushie could be fun

58: I WOULD ABSOLUTELY, GIVE ME THE COPY RN

59: YES!!!! ABSOLUTELY I'M WINNING THIS SHIT.

60: Mostly fragments of it since I don't really care that much ://

61: again just fragments

62: Yep!

63: Yep!

64: I started playing it but honestly got bored since I don't really care all that much about Hiveswap characters :// (sorry!!)

65: yep

66: Actually no and I don't really care about it.

67: no and I also don't care

68: YESS!!! AND I LOVE IT SM!!!

69: nope

70: YES AND I THINK THERE'S FEW!!! So first of all definitely the plot since it's a common knowledge a lot of fans have problems with understanding it first read (but I understood it completely first read!!!! >:)) and second the characters and dynamics between them (because some of you are really missing a lot of points in them.............)

71: I would love to know more about earth C if it wasn't such a pile of hot garbage. Also the lives of alpha Dave and Rose, and Beta trolls on Beforus (I ACTUALLY REALLY WANT TO KNOW THIS ONE, LIKE PLEASE.)

72: I love how creative it can get and how insane it sometime is!!! I love seeing the fanarts and fanfics written by us (especially if the description of fanfic is just insane and it ends up being golden). Also I love all the other works like fansongs, animatics, fancomics, lyricstuck ect!!!! everything you create is great!!!!

73: I don't like some treatment of certain characters in fandom :// also i don't like how a lot of people are easy to just hate on certain ships (like Davekat was recently very hated on). I absolutely understand not liking all ships because I also have a lot of ships I dislike but there's no reason to publically hate? like at least do it privately ig

74: I forced my one friend to read it, so yes :33

75: I HAVE SOME STICKERS AND PINS I GOT AT CON FROM ARTIST ALLEY!!!! (ALSO MY KARKAT PLUSH IS INCOMING SO I'M WAITING FOR HIM >:334

76: ......*inhale* JANE DID NOTHING WRONG IN HOMESTUCK ABD THEY HAD NO RIGHT TURNING HER FASCIST AND RACIST IN EPILOGUES. I LOVE JANE AND I WILL ALWAYS DEFEND HER!!!!!!! MY JANE IS NOT A FASCIST!!!!!!

77: I said my popular opinions before lol

78: I HATE MOST OF DANCESTORS, I DON'T THINK THEY SHOULD EXIST AND BRING SOMETHING TO THE PLOT, AND ARANEA BIT WAS A FUCKING JOKE

79: oh god just one thing........ uhh Karkat and Sollux were moirails on Alternia up to the Murderstuck. there. (or I would make bro into fanon version of him because I fucking lol him)

80: JANE BEING FUCKING FASICT IN EPILOGUES.

81: I was recently watching con-air (yes because of Homestuck lol) and it reminded me of all scenes were John was roleplaying this movie and I think they were very funny lol

82: Vriska has such a great fucking design, I'm so sad she's such a 8itch. Also a lot of dancestors has cool designs

83: Maybe Aradia? since I started liking her after she god tiered. but besides that I don't think so, I liked most characters from beginning (or from beginning hated them)

84: There's few that are kinda under the rule: we were shown in canon they wouldn't work, but the biggest offender for that for me is Karkat x Nepeta... Because Karkat said canonically he wouldn't want to date her and shipping them together feels weird for me :// ig I feel similar way about Karezi. Also Rose or Kanaya with any men.

85: I'm not really a fan of neither if I'm honest lol. I prefer ships that have sense canon wise

86: On earth C the main cast is treated like gods and they can walk in into and restaurant or shop they want and get everything for free, because they are gods, who's going to tell them to pay money? (my favorite kind of hcs is just ignoring epilogues and creating my own earth C LMAO)

87: All of the let's read Homestuck voices are canon to me actually (well the first ones because they changed some of the voices later and they don't fit that well ://)

88: Intermission. Okay let me tell you something to intermission fans who tell you, you have to read it to be real Homestuck fan, no tf you don't. You can skip entire intermission and loose nothing.

89: I made few arts and I wrote some fics (but I have plans for a longer ones!!!)

90: OFC!!! I'm even celebration 612 and 11/11!!! (which is really soon so HAPPY 11/11!!!!!!)

91: Only Karkat's and John's/Jane's (Rest of kids have really weird birthdays tho, like why don't they get their special date and instead they are stacked on top of each other?)

92: I think the og hussies one when they are blobs without necks, I think it looks really silly and fun

93: MAKES TEREZI LOCO, SHE WANTS TO KNOW THE SECRETS THAT SHE CAN'T TASTE IN MY PHOTO. DYING JUST TO KNOW THE FLAVOUR, I AIN'T DOING HER NO FAVOR-

94: yes dead media from 2012 Tumblr XDD no but srs I think it did because I really crave media similar to Homestuck

95: I can't explain it well but I think south park? mostly probably because of kid focus and a lot of pop culture refrences (or a space that feels very closed of, especially in first seasons of South Park)

96: Because I have freeze reaction everytime I see something I could connect slightly to Homestuck (I can connect everything to Homestuck, I'm master at that)

97: when they are a loser stuck at home

98: Liblo sign of inescapable but I don't really relate to being a Libra so I prefer to think I'm Canlo sign of the thespian (even the description fits me more!!!!)

99: none

100: I'm heart bound, of course it will!!!! It's actually in top of my interests and definitely one of my favorite things!!!! :333

wow I'm finally done with this

Ultimate Homestuck ask game! (100 questions)

1. When did you start reading Homestuck?

2. What made you want to check it out?

3. Had you heard about Homestuck prior to reading it?

4. What does Homestuck mean to you?

5. Has Homestuck influenced you in any way?

6. What's your fondest Homestuck memory?

7. Have you meet friends through Homestuck?

8. How long did it take you to read Homestuck? Have you read it in its entirety?

9. Fave character? (overall)

10. Least fave character? (overall)

11. Fave "problematic" character?

12.  Fave beta kid?

13. Fave alpha kid?

14. Fave beta troll?

15. Fave dancestor?

16. Fave ancestor?

17. Fave guardian?

18. Fave carapacian?

19. Fave cherub?

20. Fave sprite?

21. A character you'd be friends with?

22. A character you wouldn't be friends with?

23. Fave quirk?

24. Least fave quirk?

25. Fave pesterlog?

26. Fave flash?

27. Fave song/songs?

28. Fave fan song?

29. Fave Broadway Homestuck song?

30. Fave lyricstuck?

31. Fave Homestuck AU?

32. Are there any non Homestuck songs that make you think about Homestuck?

33. Fave fanfic?

34. Fave Homestuck writer/fan artist?

35. Fave ship? (alternatively: fave ship in each quadrant?)

36. Have you read any fan adventures?

37. Have you watched any Homestuck video essays?

38. Who's your patron troll? And do you identify with them in any way?

39. What characters are most like you?

40. If you do cosplay, which Homestuck characters have you done or would like to do?

41. Prospit or Derse?

42. Meat or Candy?

43.  The Felt or The Midnight Crew?

44. Beta kids or alpha kids?

45. Red team or Blue team?

46. Canon or fanon?

47. What's your classpect?

48. Do you like your god tier or would you modify it to better suit your taste?

49. If you were in Homestuck, what would your color and typing quirk be?

50. Your strife specibus?

51. If you have one, what's your chumhandle?

52. What character interactions would you have liked to see/see more of?

53. Do you have a kidsona or trollsona?

54. Have you ever made fan kids or fan trolls?

55. Do you have any Homestuck OCs?

56. What's THE Homestuck reference for you?

57. Quick! You gotta prototype your kernel sprite, what are you dropping in there?

58. Would you play SBURB?

59. Do you think you'd win SBURB?

60. Have you read The Epilogues?

61. Have you read/are you reading Homestuck^2?

62. Have you played Pesterquest?

63. Have you played Hiveswap?

64. Have you played Friendsim?

65. Have you read the Intermission?

66. Have you read Problem Sleuth?

67. Have you read Jailbreak?

68. Have you read Paradox Space?

69. Have you read any of Hussie's other works?

70. What's an aspect of Homestuck you feel you know more about than the average Homestuck fan?

71. What's an aspect of Homestuck you'd like to know more about?

72. What's something you like about the fandom?

73. What's something you dislike about the fandom?

74.  Would you recommend Homestuck to new readers/friends?

75. Do you have any Homestuck memorabilia/merch? (official or not?)

76. A hot take or hill you'd gladly die on?

77. What are your popular opinions?

78. What are your unpopular opinions?

79. If you could canonize one thing and one thing only, what would it be?

80. If you could uncanonize one thing and one thing only, what would it be?

81. Are there any panels you particularly remember or enjoy?

82. Is there any character you like aesthetically, but not personality wise?

83. Is there any character who's grown on you over time?

84. Is there a ship you don't particularly like/straight up hate?

85. Do you have any crackships or rare ships?

86. Any headcanons you'd like to share?

87. Do you have any voice claims for the cast?

88. Did you find any part of Homestuck boring?

89. If you're a creative, do you have any Homestuck related projects?

90. Do you celebrate 413?

91. Do you remember the characters' birthdays?

92. What's your favourite art style within Homestuck?

93.  Karkalicious definition?

94.  Has Homestuck influenced what you look for in fiction?

95. What's a non Homestuck thing that you think has strong Homestuck vibes?

96. Others could clock you as Homestuck fan because [blank].

97. You recognise fellow Homestuck fans because [blank].

98. What's your extended zodiac sign?

99. How normal are you about Homestuck?

100. Will Homestuck stay somewhere inside you forever and ever wherever you go?

[themyscirah]

This is technically a Diana's age poll but I framed it partially around Julia's rescue because that's the event I need to contextualize and whether or not Diana is a thing yet is p important for my purposes. I would keep the Pérez run and postcrisis continuity in mind when answering this bc that's when this is relevant but I'd keep in mind that even though Diana is very young there (like early 20s) we don't know I don't think if she ages differently as a child (esp as a themysciran AND being made from clay) and in some versions she is older than she looks and was made earlier

Edit: I accidentally logic-ed this out in the tags lol 🤦‍♀️but feel free to still vote however you want. Going to publish this anyway bc I think I made some good points later in my tags

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[fingertipsmp3]

There are two wolves inside me. One is trying to convince me to do extensive research for the job interview tomorrow and the other is saying “wing it”

[mako-island-moon-pool]

Why am I flipping tf out over my roommate going into my room when I wasn't home and leaving a package on my bed it's literally not a big deal and they were trying to be helpful but I am shaking right now I should be happy I got my new favorite shirt but I'm so angry

[unluckedtj]

i be been rocking back and forth while reading part 6-8 this is the COOLEST WAY TO BRING BACK NAI. ??!?!?! THE BRANCHES ? THIS WORKS WITH VASH’S ROOTS oh my god it’s so over. it’s gonna plague my head again what oh my go I FEEL LIKE A WINNER

Beware of major Trigun spoilers!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Read from right to left

Trigger warning for violence, blood, gore and body horror! Hooray!

If you want a little background music, try listening to "Everybody knows that you're insane" by QOTSA. I was listening to this when I worked out the chapter in my head and it fits Nai SO well, especially the lyrics! Yeah so, both boys are back from being human to part human/part plant now...I hope you like how this played out, even though it got a lot bloodier than the first parts. Please imagine me continuously knocking Nai on the head with a squeaky toy hammer. This is what I'm doing here in blorbo speach. Also, let me know what you think! I'd love to hear your thoughts and any feedback is welcome, as always! <3

[maxdurden]

today at work an older man came into the store, pulled me to the side, and then loudly and in front of a line of customers declared that it makes him feel like everything's going to be okay when he sees me in the store and he thanked me for my year of service there. he insisted that we hold hands. the entire time. "i'm not gonna make you hug me, but..." were his exact words. it was unpleasant

[pearlymel]

That boy is mine.

୨୧ Summery: hsr men and their love languages.

୨୧ Including: Aventurine, Jing Yuan, Sunday, Veritas Ratio, Argenti.

୨୧ Warnings: none. Gn! Reader, All fluff, just the hsr men spoiling you like how you should be spoilt.

♡︎ Aventurine— receiving gifts.

“Err, Aventurine? This is the fifth diamond bracelet this month.”

“Today is a special day.”

“You say that everyday…” you whisper to yourself in amusement while your fingers brush over the expensive material sealed around your wrist. You try not to sound disappointed because—you’re not really disappointed but rather confused or guilty for him spending so recklessly with you.

Upon seeing the guilt he knew so well etched on your face, he quickly steps closer, “It looks pretty on you, which is all the reason i need.” He teases, his hand snaking towards your lower back. “You didn’t complain about the shoes and necklace I bought you,” he shrugs with a grin plastered on his face and you shake your head in return.

“I appreciate everything you do to me, i just dislike it when a lot of money is wasted.” You gently scold him but he brushes it off with a laugh. 

“Darling, you need to stop thinking like this. Money was meant to be spent.” He playfully flickers your forehead, before gently caressing the spot with his thumb.

“How can i ever spoil you back, hmm?” He grins at your question, his thumb that was caressing your forehead moves to your chin. Holding it with a firm, yet gentle grip. “I told you, silly,” he murmurs, leaning forward to bring his face closer to yours. “All you have to do is be cute, and give me a kiss every once in a while.”

“… is that it?” Your figure almost slumps at his too simple requests. From now on, you’d try harder to shower him with all the kisses and affection.

“That’s all it takes. Your cute little reactions and your pretty face are more than enough to spoil such a simple man, like me.” He says, his hand slipping down to your waist, pulling you closer. You take ahold of his face with your hands, pulling his face to give his lips some attention, his hand tightening around your waist “will this suffice?”

“I’m a bit greedy, one more.” He whispers, and you press your lips against his again for another chaste kiss. “Again,” he says in a bit more demanding tone this time, taking over the lead and kissing you even deeper, trailing his lips along your jawline then a final kiss just below your earlobe. Your whole face burning just from simple kisses.

“I will get you anything you want, everything you desire,” he whispers against your neck, “A yacht, a penthouse, jewels, whatever you want. My only condition is you stay with me, and make those cute little noises when i spoil you.”

“Cute little noises?” You squint your eyes at him, pulling back to see him, “you mean.. my surprised expressions?”

“Exactly like that. The soft gasps, wide eyes, and adorable smile.” You grins while taking you in a crushing embrace and you only laugh back at him.

♡︎ Jing Yuan— physical touch.

You suddenly can’t breath when the general came home particularly clingy today. Big arms preventing you from escaping his hold with his lips not leaving any spot untouched on your face.

“Missed you today,” he would whisper in his thick raspy voice, hands roaming around your body with strands of his hair almost covering your face, “my pretty spouse.” His voice is muffled from his face buried in your neck.

“You’re the clingiest man i know.”

His suddenly stopped for a moment, expression darkening slightly, “you know other men?”

“Ohh, the most jealous one too.” You chuckle when he shoots you a pout, sometimes you could imagine him looking like a big sad lion.

“Not that I’m complaining.” You press a tender kiss to his forehead, and just like that, his shoulders relax and his golden eyes seem to shine just a bit brighter. “Was work harsh on you today?”

Jing Yuan let out a drawn-out sigh, "Exhausting is more like it," he replied with a tired smile. "Still need to train Yanqing later tonight per his request,"

His expression softened as he looked down to meet your gaze.

"I've been looking forward to this time with you all week." He hums, resting his head on your chest and your hand immediately finds its place on his hair. Jing Yuan smiles as he feels your delicate fingers take out the red ribbon from his long, white hair, letting it cascade down to his shoulders.

"I should call in sick tomorrow," he grins when he hears you quietly chuckle, beginning to lean on you as your fingers worked through his hair. 

“Is this the general of the luofu?” You decide to tease him a bit, his rough hands squeezing your thighs in return. “No, this is just your spouse now. All putty for you."

♡︎ Veritas Ratio— Quality time.

Ratio was sprawled on his stomach, a large book held in his hands. He was so engrossed in the content that he didn't even hear you enter the room until you jumped onto the bed.

“What are you doing?” You simply ask as you make space for yourself next to him, He turned his head to glance at you for a second before returning his attention to the page.

"Reading a book on advanced mathematics," he replied, his voice sounding a bit distracted. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

“Oh the boring stuff.”

"Boring? Excuse you. This stuff happens to be quite fascinating. Not everyone can appreciate the complexity and beauty of mathematical theory, you know."

Your brain goes short circuit at his explanation, and you shake your head instead. "You can read your amazing stuff to yourself while i... Maybe brush your hair?"

Ratio couldn't help but scoff at your suggestion. "Brush my hair, really? What, do you think I'm a doll or something?"

But secretly, the idea of you running your fingers through his hair had a certain appeal to him. He shrugged nonchalantly, feigning indifference.

"Fine, go ahead. Do with my hair whatever makes you happy, I suppose."

"Yay," you immediately grab the brush from your drawer and gesture him to lean back against your chest, and he immediately obliged. Melting back against your chest while holding his book to his lap. “I love you,” you then whisper and he only hums in return.

You huff at his silence, "I thought you were going to say something like 'oh i love you to the moon and back!' or 'i actually don't love you'." You say in a mocking tone.

Ratio chuckled again, shaking his head in mock annoyance. "Oh, so you're expecting some sappy, romantic cliché, are you? Sorry to disappoint you, darling."

He reached up and gently poked your forehead with his index finger. "I don't think I could actually say something like that with a straight face. I have standards, you know."

Then you tug his hair gently with the brush, showing your annoyance, making him gasp. "Hey, careful with the hair," he protested half-heartedly, feigning irritation. "Do you want me to go bald before I'm thirty?"

"At least you look pretty now." You hand him a mirror to show him the creation you've made on his hair. Tiny braids. 

“Aeons, what have you done to my hair?”

"I made an artwork, thank you very much."

He took another look at his reflection in the mirror, tilting his head to examine the braids in his hair from different angles.

“Artwork, you say?” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Looks more like a bird’s nest, if you ask me.”

You blink twice at his words, "Wait, what if birds actually lay their eggs on your hair?" His smirk vanished, replaced by a look of mock horror. "Oh gods, please don't give them ideas," he said, you both quickly start unbraiding his hair.

♡ Sunday— Acts of service.

“Is this better, love?” Sunday asks softly when he took off his coat to drape it around your shoulders instead, and you nod your head. He wouldn’t want his beloved to catch a cold now. 

Both of you decided to go on a walk in penacony as a date, just to enjoy each other’s presence for the night.

He wraps a protective hand around your waist, moving to walk on the side of the street while you were safely walking on the sidewalk.

“I wouldn’t ask for anything more.” You smile brightly under the light poles. "I’m relieved to hear that, darling." Sunday replied with a pleasant hum, giving your hips a gentle squeeze as you leaned into him for warmth. He smiled at your laugh, finding your happiness to be such a joyous sight. you had always been such an angelic being in his eyes; just the sight of your smiling and laughing was enough for his heart to flutter madly in his chest.

"careful, dont trip. watch your step."

You step to the side just in time to avoid tripping over a few rocks, giving him the sweetest smile, "Always caring for me, my love."

Sunday felt his cheeks flush ever so faintly at your smile. The soft feathers of his wings grazing his cheeks in a failed attempt to hide the redness. Your sweet personality and mannerisms tugging at the strings of his heart in an almost dizzying manner. 

"i cant possibly let my angel hurt themself on our date, now can i?"

It was your turn for your cheeks to flush at his words. Your tried turning around to avoid him seeing your face when your hand landed upon a bush of flowers.

You carefully pluck the crimson one before handing it to him, "for you,”

He took the flower from your hand and twirled it between his fingers, admiring the pretty, crimson hue. he tucked it behind his ear, the red complimenting his hair nicely.

he chuckled in amusement. “it's beautiful. how did you know red is my favourite colour?"

"Is it? Last time i gave you a blue shirt and you said it was your favourite colour." You laugh, plucking another flower to tuck it right at the fluttering wings next to his ears. 

“Hmm, everything you give me is my favorite. That’s only fair.” For some reason the way Sunday talks, makes you believe for sure that you’re definitely safe with him.

♡ Argenti— words of affirmation.

“I cannot get enough of you.” he murmured against your hair. It’s quieter than usual now with his presence, which is something you don’t hate either.

"You flatter me with your words, darling." You whisper, feeling protected around his arms, with your head resting on his chest where you could listen to his heart beat rather quicker than usual.

"And you flatter me with your presence, my love," Argenti replied, his voice a deep and velvety rumble. His hand rose to gently brush a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek for a moment too long.

The steady rhythm of his heart seemed to pick up its pace as it thumped against his chest, a subtle giveaway of his growing excitement. "You make my heart beat faster than it should," he confessed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Your words always manages to make me fall head over heels for you.” You say dreamily, taking a few on his red end strands of hair to twirl with. He laughed softly, shifting his position so he could look down at you. He gently tilted your chin up, his thumb gently grazing your jawline.

"Where do I even begin? Your beauty is without equal, a sight so captivating it robs me of my breath every time I lay my eyes upon you," he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with affection. "Your intelligence is like a rare gem, sharper than the finest sword and just as precious. Every moment spent with you is a treasure, my love."

You shift in your place a bit to take a good look at his face, and you only see gentleness and sincerity behind it.

“I lied, my skin might burn from all this sweetness.” You admit, pressing your chin against his shoulder.

Argenti laughed again, and you might think it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He gently wrapped his arms around yours, "Seeing the effect I have on you is a sight more beautiful than any sunrise," he purred, voice dripping like honey, his hand now moving to glide down your neck, fingers tracing patterns on your nape.

"I will never tire of making your skin burn, my love. Each blush and shiver you give me only adds fuel to my desire for you." His thumb traced circles on your nape, and you could just sleep right here.

“I never thought I would be this… desire-able?” You mumble, the hint of insecurity showing, making him sigh.

"Nonsense,” he tightens his arms around you, “The way you move, the sound of your voice, the way you look at me... it drives me to the brink of madness. I find myself craving you at all hours of the day, constantly longing for your touch, your presence alone is enough to make me weak in my knees." 

You frown at his words, relaxing right here, in the arms of your lover, “you’re too precious.”

“Likewise, darling.”

[innerfare]

You’re Jealous

 Summary: You get jealous of someone else in his life.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid

Genre: Slight Angst // Fluff

CW: None // SFW

——— 

Luffy:

He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.” 

Zoro:

He didn’t mention Perona was also at Mihawk’s castle for those two years until a few months after the crew gets together. He tells a story that features her, and you realize there was a woman keeping him company. Your heart drops into your stomach. Zoro insists he didn’t mention her because he didn’t think she was relevant; the only thing Perona did those two years was annoy him. He’s actually the one who won’t let it go, not you (even though you are pretty jealous). Whereas you’d prefer not to talk about it, Zoro is wracked with guilt because he’d never considered the whole thing in a relationship context. Him fretting constantly over it actually heals your jealousy because you realize you’ve never seen him panic over the prospect of hurting anyone else’s feelings. 

Sanji:

Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life. 

Ace:

He collects people without trying, and often times, without realizing, either. Ace thinks he’s just making friends, but you see the way the women he laughs and shares drinks with are drawn to him like plants to the sun. He promises them freedom and adventure (and he has a very nice laugh), and you can see how it excites them. You don’t really mind it, knowing Ace well enough to see the way he holds those women at arm’s length, even if he seems close with them (such is the magic of Fire First Ace). But Yamato makes you jealous. It’s not hearing the way they laughed together but hearing the way they fought that gets to you. You know how Ace lives to fight and even just roughhouse, you know how he’s a rough and tumble guy, and you worry you’re not tough enough. Should you be punching his arm when he makes a joke? Should you be trying to trip him out on deck? What should you be doing? When you finally come clean with Ace about what’s been bothering you, he actually laughs. “If I wanted to be with someone who gives me hell, I’d be sleeping in Marco’s cabin every night. Besides,” he says, scooping you up in his arms, “I like being able to manhandle you.” 

Sabo:

Sabo is a flirt, and you knew that going into your relationship. It actually doesn’t bother you when he flashes that charming smile of his at someone else or swoops in to save a damsel in distress (a speciality of his) and even serves to entertain, especially on the rare occasions his flirtations are rebuked. What does bother you, though, is his tight relationship with Koala. You know it’s ridiculous to be envious, you know Koala would sooner saw off her arm than kiss the man she considers her irksome big brother, but they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and Koala has been through so much with Sabo that the pair have such a close bond. It’s not the angry kind of jealousy that bubbles up in you when Koala mentions something about Sabo’s past that she assumes you know but you don’t, just the sad kind that you try to keep to yourself. Surprisingly, Sabo notices, though you don’t realize until he hugs you from behind and mumbles in your ear that he’s glad you’re the only one who knows he has a skincare routine, his silly words diffusing your mood and acting as the exact affirmation you needed. If it’s not enough, though, he’ll happily prove his loyalty to you by challenging Koala to a karate match, though.  

Law:

Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty. 

Kid:

He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[1d1195]

Independent

~10.6k words

From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.

Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.

Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.

Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.

Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍

Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.

She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.

Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.

“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.

She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”

*

Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.

It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.

Which was fine by Harry.

He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.

Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.

She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?

A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”

“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”

He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.

Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”

“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.

“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.

He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.

*

But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.

Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.

“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”

“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.

“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.

Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.

“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”

Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.

Her cheeks turned bright red.

“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”

Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”

The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.

This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.

“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.

“Water’s included.”

“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.

“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.

“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.

“In-unit washer and dryer.”

“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?

“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.

“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”

“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”

“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”

She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.

But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.

*

True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.

There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”

She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”

He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.

“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”

“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”

He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”

That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”

“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”

“Offer stands,” she assured him.

Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.

She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”

“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.

“Oh, I can take—”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.

“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.

“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.

When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”

“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”

She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”

“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”

Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.

*

Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.

Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?

Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.

No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.

It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.

He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.

But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.

She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”

“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.

*

Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.

But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.

She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”

“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”

“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”

The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”

She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”

“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s décor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.

“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”

He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”

“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”

He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s’what I should do.”

“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”

“Course.”

They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” she smiled.

“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”

“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”

“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.

“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.

*

“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.

“Me?”

He chuckled. “Yes, you.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”

“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”

Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.

“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”

“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”

“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”

“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.

“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”

“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.

“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.

“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”

*

At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.

He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.

Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.

Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.

*

“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.

It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.

“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.

That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.

“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.

“Lint roller!”

They all called out items and she had every single one.

“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.

Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.

“I get it,” he chuckled.

“If you need it, chances are she has it.”

“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.

Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?

*

Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.

“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.

“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”

“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”

“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.

“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”

“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”

“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”

“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”

“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”

“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.

“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.

He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.

“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.

She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.

“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.

“Thanks, Poppy.”

*

Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.

Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”

“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”

She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.

Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.

The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.

She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.

After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.

“Are y’cold?” He asked.

She shook her head.

But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.

But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”

She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.

Harry really enjoyed holding her.

*

At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.

Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.

“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.

Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.

She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”

He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.

She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”

*

For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.  

He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.

It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).

Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).

She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.

He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.

She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?

She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”

It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”

She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.

He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”

*

When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.

She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”

“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.

She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.

“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”

“Harry—”

“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”

Harry frowned. “So?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”

But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”

“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”

The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”

Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”

The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”

“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”

He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”

It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.

“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”

*

She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.

Even when she should have asked.

Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.

Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.

When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.

“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.

“Harry,” she protested.

“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”

“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”

“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.

She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.

“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.

“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.

It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.

It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.

*

Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn’t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.

Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.

Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.

Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.

The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”

Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”

“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.

Then, he started reading.

Out loud.

“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.

“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.

“You don’t have to—”

He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.

Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.

*

Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.

He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.

One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.

Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.

Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.

He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.

“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.

“Yeah?” She whispered.

If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”

“I can’t.”

“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”

She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.

His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.

Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.

For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.

Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.

Hope bloomed inside him.

*

She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.

All he did was make her soup.

She deserved so much more.

It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.

“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.

“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.

She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

“You haven’t said no.”

"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.

Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.

“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”

She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.

"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.

She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.

As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."

A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.

"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”

*

Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.

He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.

Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.

It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.

Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.

“Harry?”

He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”

“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”

He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.

He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.

He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.

“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.

Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.

"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.

Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.

"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.

*

Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.

But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.

“Harry?” Her voice was raw.

“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.

“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.

He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing t’be sorry for.”

"I have issues."

"We can work on them together."

"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.

"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.

She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."

"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.

She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."

Harry nodded. "Well—"

"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."

It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.

Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”

She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.

"What, Poppy?"

"Do you love me already?"

"Of course I do."

She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”

“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.

He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"

“I’m in love with you too.”

--

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