#IT WAS JUST SO WOW I WANT TO DISSECT IT LIKE A SILLY LITTLE WORM OR SOMETHING | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jawllines · 7 years

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OKAY I KNOW IVE POSTED THIS BEFORE BUT THIS IS WHAT I HAVE OF STANDOFFISH HARRY AND YALL ARE DOWN FOR IT RIGHT?

Harry doesn't talk to most people.

It's not because he's hateful nor is he cruel, he just really can't find it in his heart to speak with them. Truth be told, he can't be bothered with most of the high school bullshit that had bled into university, which included staring at him like he was some science exhibit, starting rumors about him, giggling while he walked by. He was proper annoyed by it -- he'd always garnered a lot of attention throughout all of his life, but it wasn't until Junior year he realized it was all shit. Popularity didn't matter, Harry hated his friends, and he didn't want to talk to them anymore.

So he didn't.

And he'd secluded himself into a life where he was comfortable and content with silence, not minding the cold feeling of solitary as his marks improved ten fold and he'd felt more confident in who he was. Not trying to be anyone but himself, wearing what he wanted without regard, doing as he wanted, and if he had to speak he would say what he wanted to. There was no longer the pressure to fit in and be as everyone wanted him to be.

However, this merely attracted more attention, and more people tried to weasel into his life than even before that. They pleaded with him to go to parties, which sometimes he would and he would give into temptations (or rather his dick would tell him to give into temptations) and he would drink, fuck someone, then leave. It gave him a small reputation and apparently he'd broken lots of hearts, but he thinks that's silly -- how could he break someone's heart if he didn't even know them properly? It's their fault, he thinks, for painting this image of him without knowing anything about Harry to base it off -- they'd imagined him the quiet brooding type with a soft spot for the one he likes.

Harry doesn't think he has many soft spots though. One for cats, one for his family, and one for coral reefs, but those were it he's pretty sure.

"Hey, Harry, wait!"

Maybe one more.

Y/N is -- well, Y/N is different. She'd squeezed her way into Harry's life when he'd come to this university and cemented her spot there, which he's confused on how she'd done it. Harry had come in expecting what the last two years of high school were like -- no friends, lots of fucking, good grades, and lots of free time -- but Y/N changed a good chunk of it. They'd met during one of Harry's cramming sessions for a test, sat in the library with books surrounding him and his head aching. He hadn't eaten much at all that day when he should've, and his stomach only punctuated his thought with a growl that frustrates him. There was no time to go down to the dining hall -- besides, it was around dinner and it was always crowded then.

She slid the chair out across from him, plopped down and made him look up, "Hi, I'm Y/N nice to meet you. I noticed you didn't have a study snack and I have an extra muffin and some milk."

Harry's mouth watered at the thought, he remembers, that nothing had sounded so good in his life, but he's seen this before. Girls always tried to butter him up while he was studying -- something about studious types being sexy or summat -- and his brows furrowed recalling that the one time he had let someone sit with him while he was studying and they'd offered a granola, they did a whole lot of talking and a whole lot of asking Harry for his notes, out for a date, and a quick fuck in the library storage room. It'd ruffled his feathers so much he sat up without a word and left.

So he replies, "I don't want it." Before turning his head back down to his books, thinking maybe that would dismiss her but she only sets them down off to the side.

"That's fine, I'll leave 'em here just in case." Then she sat back, pulled out her own books from her bag and settling with a small huff. He noticed that they were the same Biology books he had out and he worried and annoyed she was going to ask him for help, even more so when she'd peered across to see they had the same books. "Say, here," she uttered, reaching into her bag and pulling out two things -- a tattered pair of notes and a neatly dissected one, color coded and all, "I took a Botany class in high school and it's made it loads easier since it had most of the basics! Even dug out my old notes for it, so it's easier if you read off that and build on top of it with all that unnecessary stuff they're throwing into it."

That was it. She'd not looked at him expecting a thank you, nor did it seem she'd been looking for a response either.

Thirty minutes in, Harry took the muffin and the milk after a very intense inner battle and out of the corner of his eye he saw Y/N smiling slightly down into her book. He ignored it though, ate the muffin with a satisfied hum and drank it down with the milk all while staring at the girl before him. And he knew she felt eyes on her but she didn't confront them, only plucked at her lip and outlined one of the chapters.

They'd stayed there until it was 7PM and Y/N stretched out with a loud yawn that made her eyes water, "S'time for dinner and bed, I'd say! Thanks for letting me study with you."

It'd opened up a can of worms Harry hadn't particularly meant to open, but he can't say that he hated it. Y/N was nice to have around, he found, as the days went on and they studied together more often, and she'd got him to eat lunch with her starting with a few times before it became daily and he was waiting for her near the fountain outside of the dining hall. Then Y/N roped him into movie nights, study pow wows with her friends (where he didn't talk but she still sat besides him and included him in everything), and even late night workout sessions in which Harry did most of the working out and Y/N watched and talked to him from the side with a bag of chips (but dare he say her work out clothes were pretty cute).

Y/N was soft and warm in all the places Harry was stony and cold, and she was sweet where Harry was sour, and she was gentle where Harry was rough. They balanced each other out, and he liked that. It was the first time in a long time that he'd been hanging out with someone he genuinely liked.

So he pivots on his heel to face her, seeing as she's struggling to catch up with her bag heavy on her shoulders and two bento boxes in her hand, "Jeez, you're fast." She huffs a breath through her nose, bending down to regain her breath while Harry slides the backpack off of her, holding it by the top strap.

"You pack too heavy." He tells her, but he's told her time and time again and she doesn't listen. Though he never quite reprimands her for it, only giving her pointed looks when she complains about her back hurting and asking if he would go with her to the people training in physical therapy because sometimes they'll dish out massages for a good price, "Your test went well?"

She nods, sitting up straighter and they start walking again -- it was nice out today, the sun was a comforting glow beaming down on them like an old friend apologizing for disappearing -- so Y/N decided they should eat outside and Harry agreed to it. There were little picnic like tables just outside the fountain in the quad that people eat at often and Harry himself had eaten their once but he'd been disrupted by a particularly chatty group so he left without getting to enjoy it fully. "It was great, thanks to you! You've got such a knack for math, you know, you could probably be a big shot stock market broker. Like Wolf of Wall Street heights, minus the scandal and jail time."

Harry smiles some, sliding onto one side of the table while Y/N sits on the other, slipping the yellow bento box towards him. Never does he ask her to make him lunch, but she does anyways, and she makes damn good little sandwiches so he doesn't mind it at all. That with grapes, chips, and different little desserts, and Harry was able to make it through his remaining two classes without even a stutter of a growl from his tummy.

Today she'd brought him a wrap of some sort so he tears into it with a big bite, humming lowly at the taste, "S'good." He compliments, and Y/N is about to answer when she stops, but he keeps looking at her. Not noticing someone had walked up besides them because he'd occupied his thoughts with whether Y/N had taken cold medicine or if she skipped it. A light sniffle was normal, sure, but the bags beneath her eyes prefaces that she got little sleep and a subtle red tinge on her nose says it's irritated from tissue being shoved up it. He's got half the mind to scold her but Y/N had decided to handle their visitor, startling him some.

"Hi," Y/N begins, "Um -- I like you sweater?"

"Thanks, but I was actually coming over here to talk to Harry." The girl turns on her heels to face more towards him and Harry gives her a once over to see if he recognized her with an unamused gaze. How could she be so rude? No matter her reason for coming over, there was no reason to shoot down Y/N's halfhearted attempt at conversation. Acting as if Y/N was the one intruding when she is the intruder, "Hi Harry."

When he remains silent, Y/N clears her throat, "Oh, uh -- he doesn't talk much."

"Oh." She replies, only partially defeated before setting her hands down on the table and Harry's eyebrow twitches, "So like the shy type, yeah? Makes sense."

"No." Harry answers before Y/N could, and he finally peers up at her, "I'm not interested."

Her face draws into a pout, "You don't even know --"

"What he means is --" Y/N cuts in, and Harry's brows furrow, looking towards her, " -- he's not big on dates, if that's what you're proposing. Especially if you've never spoken to each other before."

While she was right on that last bit, Harry nearly mentions that the obvious red flag was her more or less blowing Y/N off to speak with him. It pisses him right the fuck off when people are rude to her, there's no way he would even be able to be friends with this girl if she's going about this as she is, let alone a lover as he's mostly wanted for. Though before he can, the girl pipes up again, "I see. So maybe we could get to know each other? We met at a party last week and I just keep thinking about you. Here, I'll send you a message so you can have my number --"

"Don't bother," he says before she can get any farther, "I said I wasn't interested in this. If we fucked, sorry for leading you on, if we didn't, I don't know why you'd want to be associated with me anyways." And Harry wants this conversation to end right there, now that he's said his piece, so he looks back towards Y/N and says, "These are organic grapes, no?"

The girl gets the hint, leaving with a huff and Y/N tuts her tongue at him.

"You're so mean, Harry! What if she really liked you?"

Harry shakes his head, "She liked my cock not me." He says casually, and Y/N's face turns towards sheepish like it always does when the mere mention of his escapades comes to head (which it doesn't often, but he knows Y/N has ears and she hears things), "'sides, she was rude to you. I don't like that." He straightens out, "Did you take your medicine?"

"How can you always tell?" Y/N grumbles, around a sigh, "I hate the liquid stuff Harry, you know that!"

"Don't be a baby," he murmurs through a smile, leaning down before digging in his bag for the cold medicine he brought around with him. He carts it around for both him and Y/N, because a stuffed nose and a sore throat can strike at any moment and if it happens to one of them it's bound to happen to the both of them. He pours a capful for her despite her whines, and slips it over to her. "There yeh go, drink it fast."

A small grunt later and she takes it into her hands, giving him one last plead look and when she realizes he's not budging, tossing it back like a shot. Her face pinching at the taste before rushing for the apple juice she had, taking a big drink then parting from the nozzle with a wet gasp, "That was terrible! Jesus, why not get the cute Jell-O flavored ones. The baby ones."

"With how often you get sick, I do presume you've got a baby immune system." He teases, and Y/N nudges him with her foot beneath the table.

It was easy with her.

So yeah, maybe he did have a soft spot for Y/N.

. . .

Harry thinks the highlight of his weeks are Fridays.

Fridays meant the weekend was coming, and he could stay up as late as he wanted that night with no repercussions. They used to mean binge watching Call the Midwife until 3AM and late night drives to the Taco Bell down the way, but now -- with Y/N in his life they're something different. Fridays with Y/N meant meeting her right after their last class, going to eat at the dining hall before hurrying to Harry's apartment on campus to drop off their stuff, pick up his car, and race over to the convenient store to scavenge snacks and drinks. They meant returning to Harry's place with armfuls of treats, dodging people trying to stop them to talk, relaxing on Harry's couch and plugging in his fairy lights for a warm glow. They meant sitting on the couch and watching a scary movie that makes Y/N so jumpy and jittery that she ends up spending then night.

This Friday was no different. Harry and Y/N were sat surrounded by food and drinks, Netflix brought up and Harry's cat weaving between the two of them trying to settle on a spot. Before they started the movie though, Y/N started on some tangent about parasites taking over an insect's mind and Harry muses her by pretending to listen. He kept getting distracted as of late -- not in general, just with her. Harry finds that he likes staring at her. . .he likes watching how her lips curve around letters and sounds, and the way her eyes glitter in the fairy lights of his room. How soft her cheeks look, and he wonders if he's allowed to trace the apples of her cheeks or if that might just be a "try it while she naps" sort of thing.

". . .and s'like, they can control ecosystems I know, but they're so damn gross I can't stand it." He blinks at her, nodding slow like he'd been listening, "Oi, is there something on my face?" She asks, reaching up with a sweater covered hand to swipe away at her face, "You're staring pretty hard."

Tilting to the side, Harry shakes his head no before turning to the TV, "No, you're fine." Reaching for the remote, Harry returns to settle back in his plushy cushions and Y/N is shuffling to get herself comfortable, cuddled up in a heavy waffle knit blanket. The apartment was always pretty cold, as that's what Harry likes, but sometimes he considers toggling with the thermostat so she's more comfortable. Often though, Y/N tells him that she likes to be a little cold because it gives her an excuse to bundle up -- which doesn't make much sense to him, but he doesn't mind it.

As the movie starts and a low tone ripples through his speakers, Y/N shuffles nearer and curls her arms around a pillow, "Heard this one is supposed to be mad scary. Gory too."

"S'that so?" He murmurs, "Well, you better keep your feet off the ground then."

"Not funny," she pouts, but pulls her legs up anyway, "I wouldn't get me too scared or you've gotta deal with me for a whole night."

It's true -- when a movie is particularly scary and Y/N is visibly shaken, he gives her his bed for the night and sleeps on the floor besides it on a pallet of blankets, pillows, and sheets. Sometimes he hopes the movie is scary so she will spend the night. . .something about the gentle sounds of her sleeping comforts him greatly, and the shuffling of her on the bed, or soft coos and murmurings. He likes waking up to a still very asleep Y/N and waking her up for breakfast. Likes watching a still very sleepy Y/N get heaps of breakfast potatoes on her plate, and lots of eggs.

Best case scenario, that happens.

. . .

Y/N was panicking.

The movie had been about aliens and she's such a science nerd about them that it made her freak out, especially after it ended so badly (everyone got screwed over in the end and the creatures were out and about). Throughout the playtime, Y/N had ended up even closer to him than she had started and he could feel her trembling. "S'just a movie." He tries to remind her but it's falling on deaf ears, as she looks back to him with wide eyes.

"We're all fucked Harry! Aliens are real, I'm so damn sure of it, like our universe is so fucking big there's no way we're the only ones on here. Did you know we have the most UFO sightings when we're closest to Venus -- that's where they are I bet you." She looks like a conspiracist, hair a bit askew and her clothes rumpled, the blanket falling around her waist as she sits up on her knees, "Part of me hopes they aren't as smart as we think they are, and we can trick 'em or something but another part of me knows they're smarter than smart with these big fucking space ships and they've probably mastered freeze rays Harry! How do we go up against that?"

Harry had wanted her to be scared sure, for his own sleeping purposes (selfish, yes, but he slept better with her here),but now he thinks he might not be sleeping at all. Y/N wouldn't intentionally keep him up, but Harry learned a long while back that her energy bounces onto him often -- he feels her vibrating and buzzing even if he's across the room and he reflects it back. So if Y/N is wide awake and thrumming, Harry will surely be up right besides her and he quite wanted to sleep tonight.

However, he'll deal with the repercussions if need be.

"You look into things too deeply," Harry tells her, voice steady and calm, "Breathe now. They probably feed off fear so you're only fueling them."

"You are not helping in the slightest," she hisses, "We just need a game plan. Like some bats and traps -- you know in Stranger Things when they set up that whole trap to mess the one no face looking alien up?" Harry blinks blankly at her, and Y/N's brows furrow, "You haven't seen Stranger Things?" She's gaping a bit as Harry sits quiet, shaking his head, "Well then we need to watch that right now! Or at least start it -- oh you'll love it, I'm sure of it!"

Scrambling, she goes for the laptop hooked up to the TV so that she can pull the show up on Netflix. The pajama shorts she'd been wearing had rucked up some, showing off a small peek of her panties all splattered with a rose print and Harry bites his lip and shifts his gaze to the floor. He's no pervert, but Y/N had never been one to be all too shy around him and Harry finds he doesn't mind that one bit. Sometimes he'll let his mind wander to much dirtier places, but he often saves that for late nights when he's only got his hand to accompany him (and no good recent fucks to reflect on).

But Y/N plops back down onto the couch, still near to him and Harry sort of wishes she would splay herself atop of him. Often she would, especially if it was particularly cold, but he supposes she'd gotten warm beneath the heaps of blankets. Now her leg is kicked on the back of the couch and her shirt is pushed up just a bit to show a good chunk of her stomach and her shorts are still rustled and she looks back up at him with a big grin, "This'll be great." She promises, and Harry feels a heat settle in his abdomen.

Now he's a bit warm too.

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jawllines · 7 years

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OkAY WELL HIS IS WHAT I HAVE OF STANDOFFISH HARRY SO TELL ME IF YALL WANT ME TO KEEP GOING

Harry doesn't talk to most people.

So he didn't.

And he'd secluded himself into a life where he was comfortable and content with silence, not minding the cold of solitary as his marks improved ten fold and he was happier this way. Not trying to be anyone but himself, wearing what he wanted without regard, doing as he wanted, and if he had to speak he would say what he wanted to. There was no longer the pressure to fit in and be as everyone wanted him to be.

Harry doesn't think he has many soft spots though. One for cats, one for his family, and one for coral reefs, but those were it he's pretty sure.

"Hey, Harry, wait!"

Maybe one more.

She slid the chair out across from him, plopped down and made him look up, "Hi, I'm Y/N nice to meet you. I noticed you didn't have a study snack and I have an extra muffin and some milk."

So he replies, "I don't want it." Before turning his head back down to his books, thinking maybe that would dismiss her but she only sets them down off to the side.

That was it. She'd not looked at him expecting a thank you, nor did it seem she'd been looking for a response either.

They'd stayed there until it was 7PM and Y/N stretched out with a loud yawn that made her eyes water, "S'time for dinner and bed, I'd say! Thanks for letting me study with you."

"Hi," Y/N begins, "Um -- I like you sweater?"

When he remains silent, Y/N clears her throat, "Oh, uh -- he doesn't talk much."

"Oh." She replies, only partially defeated before setting her hands down on the table and Harry's eyebrow twitches, "So like the shy type, yeah? Makes sense."

"No." Harry answers before Y/N could, and he finally peers up at her, "I'm not interested."

Her face draws into a pout, "You don't even know --"

"What he means is --" Y/N cuts in, and Harry's brows furrow, looking towards her, " -- he's not big on dates, if that's what you're proposing. Especially if you've never spoken to each other before."

The girl gets the hint, leaving with a huff and Y/N tuts her tongue at him.

"You're so mean, Harry! What if she really liked you?"

"How can you always tell?" Y/N grumbles, around a sigh, "I hate the liquid stuff Harry, you know that!"

"With how often you get sick, I do presume you've got a baby immune system." He teases, and Y/N nudges him with her foot beneath the table.

It was easy with her.

So yeah, maybe he did have a soft spot for Y/N.

. . .

Harry thinks the highlight of his weeks are Fridays.

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