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littlemisslipbalm · 3 years

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“you make me so angry sometimes”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’a little rude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously. What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t see it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

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

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

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re late!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not,” she warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

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

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

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

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

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry hums and unclenches it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

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

Lisa smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he exhales.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

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

“Effect?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which part?”

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

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

“You know, so why don’t you?”

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

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

“And what if I don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.

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

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

“That’d be nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Passion.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

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

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

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

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

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

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

“How are you?” She continues.

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

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

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No one said anything about nudes!”

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

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

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

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

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

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

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

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

“Or does it?”

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

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

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

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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karlajoyner · 4 years

Text

Impossible (Reggie Peters x Reader)

A/n: This was again another request! I definitely enjoyed writing it! If you guys have any requests please comment them or dm me! Also currently working on an Owen Joyner smut that goes a little more into detail than the last so be prepared! Also let me know if you guys think I should make a tag list!

Requested by: @universefangirl (Tumblr)

Warnings: Smut (18+)

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I sat in my best friends garage listening to her rehearse with her band until it was time.

"Flynn's gonna love this" I said looking up from my sketch book.

"Thanks y/n/n. I honestly don't know what I would've done if you hadn't believed me"

"Well at first I didn't. But you proved your point Jules" I said remembering how I just thought they were normal boys at first. Cute normal boys.

"I just hope she forgives me" The girl sighed looking down. I looked back at the rest of her bandmates who like all guys stood there awkwardly. They all sent me a look begging me to comfort her. I rolled my eyes standing up.

"Julie we've all been best friends since kindergarten. We've been through everything together. This is just another one of those things we have to get through" I said going to pull her in for a hug from behind.

"Thanks. Again. It really means a lot"

"What are best friends for?" I smiled as she hugged back the room going silent.

“You never know how long your supposed to wait in this type of situation before you can talk again you know?" (If you know where that's from I love you) Luke said making my head whip towards him.

"Maybe a little longer" The brunette spoke making me facepalm.

I looked back at the group nervously to see them giving me a thumbs up. My gaze quickly finding the cute bass player who sent me an air kiss. I jokingly pretended to catch it earning disgusted looks from the rest of the band.

"Gross" Julie joked.

"Shut it Molina" I warned turning around to go bring our other friend in. I was startled at the sudden sound of knocking outside the doors. Hearing a few chuckles from behind me as I opened the door.

"Hey Flynny" I smiled using the nickname I gave her when we were kids.

"Y/n? What are you doing here? Where's Julie?"

"I'm right here" Said girl called from behind me.

"Thanks for coming we just wanted to rehearse the song so it was perfect which it's not but whatever"

"No if I'm gonna hear a song from your imaginary ghost band I want it to be perfect so get back in there" Flynn said waving us back.

"All of you. You too" She said pointing to absolutely nothing.

"She's not lying Flynn. They're real"

"Oh my god now you've got y/n/n in on your imaginary ghost band? Do you play air drums?" Flynn's asked placing a hand on my shoulder.

"No that's Alex. I'm not in the band per se but I watch them rehearse all the time. Plus my boyfriends in it"

"Oh so she really sucked you in. So where are they?"

"They're not out here"

"Oh I know" Flynn said patting Julie's shoulder before walking in. I looked at the girl beside me playfully rolling my eyes.

Flynn had always been the logical one out of the three of us. So no doubt this was gonna have to be good. I shut one of the doors behind us while Julie shut the other before making my way towards the boys who stood there looking excited.

"Good luck" I whispered. Placing a quick kiss to Reggies cheek.

"Oh so my best friends just kissing the air now. That's great. What's your moms number again?" She asked pulling out her phone. I playfully rolled my eyes taking a seat on the couch pulling up my sketch book once more.

I was currently working on a drawing for the guys. Something that screams were alive. As Luke put it.

"All right guys you ready? Uh actually can you go over there. Reggie needs some space to rock out and he feels kinda weird walking through you" Julie said. Flynn letting out a chuckle.

"Boy when you create a world you really live in it"

"Just sit" Julie said sitting her down in an empty chair.

"If you'll notice there's no equipment that will produce a hologram. Feel free to look around. The guys took a poem that I wrote about you and put it to music"

"Y/n helped" Reggie interrupted making me smile.

"I'm sorry. The guys and y/n"

“Aww! I wish I didn't have to talk to your parents after this"

“Come on Flynny it's a great song"

"If you say so y/n/n. So when did you go crazy?" She asked placing a hand on her knees.

"It's called Flying Solo. Hope you like it" I smiled upon hearing the opening notes of the song.

J- If I leave you on a bad note

Leave you on a sad note

I know all your secrets

You know all my deep-dish

Guess that means some things they never, they never

Change...

We both know what I, what I, what I

Mean...

When I look at you it's like I'm looking at me

I looked up from my book when Flynn let out a scream signalling she could finally see them.

All- My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you

Hey! yeah-e-yeah

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you

I grinned at Flynn who gave me a horrified look.

"Are you seeing this?" She whispered. I only nodded giggling at her reaction.

J- Yeah, you know who I'm likin'

Way before I liked them, duh...

Cause you liked them first

And if somebody hurts you

I'm gonna get hurt too

That's just how we work, yeah, that's just how we work

It will never

Change...

We both know what I, what I, what I

I bit my lip watching my boyfriend sing at a close proximity with Luke. Something that I'll never get used to. But definitely enjoyed. When they finallly separated Reggie sent me a wink as he sang the chorus. Luke gradually making his was over to me sitting down on the armrest beside me.

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you

I chuckled as Luke scared Flynn. Instinctively I smacked his arm. Earning a confused look coming from the girl as Julie pulled her away towards Alex and Reggie.

Hey! yeah-e-yeah

I watched closely as Flynn attempted to touch my boyfriend only to have her hand go right through him.

"Weird right?"

"They're ghost!" "Oh we prefer musician spirits"

"But y/n" Flynn said pointing at me.

"We don't understand it either. But she can see and touch them. It's not the same for both of us" Julie explained showing how her hand went through Reggie as well.

“Julie so does this mean you're joining the our band?"

"Umm actually I think you're joining her band"

"I'm gonna go with what she said" Julie said sticking a hand out for me. I grinned taking it.

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you

Julie sang the three of us dancing along.

"You're crazy" Flynn mouthed to me making me smile wider. She tilted her head to the side pointed at the bassist who had his focus on me.

Hey! yeah-e-yeah

I moved away from the two girls to let them have a moment. Reggies bass playing coming to a halt. Instinctively I moved to his side. His arm finding my waist and pulling me close. A chuckle leaving his lips.

My life, my life would be real low, zero, flying solo without you

Julie harmonized coming forehead to forehead with Flynn.

"Still wanna talk to our parents?"

"No I'm good" Flynn said the two girls hugging.

"Bring it in y/n/n!" Julie said opening her arms wider. I smiled kissing Reggies cheek before rushing to engulf my best friends in a group hug.

"I'm really glad Flynn enjoyed the song today" I spoke after a long day. I was finally able to sit in at my desk and continue drawing in my sketchbook.

With Reggie present in the room as well. Like most nights.

"I did too. She seems like a cool girl"

"Oh she is Reg. She was literally my first ever friend and with Julie the three of us have been inseparable since" I explained to my boyfriend who moved his arms behind his head.

"Well then I guess I'll have to get to know her better. For your sake of course" He said the room falling into a comfortable silence with exception of my soft music playing in the background.

Ed Sheeran to be exact. He had easily become one of the boy's favorites new artist. So when they hung out in my room I played him a lot. Along with other artists of course.

It had been about 15 minutes of my pencil hitting the paper when I finally looked up to see Reggie gazing at me.

"Have you been staring at me this whole time?"

"Maybe"

"Why?" I asked.

"Because your adorable"

"Really Reg. Look at you. Your a hot teenage ghost rocker from the 90's and you think I'm adorable" I giggled.

"I love your laugh" He stated my cheeks immediately heating up.

"Thanks" I smiled shyly.

"I love you" He spoke again. My heart stopping.

That was the first time either of us had said that. Since the night I met them in Julie's garage to now. Those were the last words I never expected anyone to say that wasn't family or Julie or Flynn.

Upon not hearing a response the look on his face dropped as he pulled himself to the edge of the bed in front of me.

"I-I mean you don't have to say it b-back I was just thinking out loud but like I could have been t-talking about anything like pizza. I love pizza. P-pizzas good well except pineapple pizza kinda of sort of. Actually you know what's really good cheese pizza that's nice I really like it-" I quickly cut him off by placing a tender kiss to his lip. Feeling his hands cup my cheeks the warmth of them making me feel safe. Loved.

I wanted more of him. I wanted to feel all of him.

Finally breaking apart I smiled at the boy in front of me.

"What?" He asked as I gazed into his beautiful brown eyes.

"I love you too Reg" His small smile only getting bigger.

He quickly removed the sketchbook away from me. Placing me onto his lap.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything my whole life" I smiled as he pushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Kiss me" I whispered. Reggie immediately taking action.

I giggled as he began to kiss down my neck my hands flying to remove his red flannel. He was quick to remove it himself among my request. His other hand gripping my waist. I took this as my opportunity to fix myself on his lap straddling him. Like I'd done so many times before.

Our lips met in the middle as we both kissed each other with such force. Such passion. I smirked into the kiss as I placed my hand under Reggies tank top. His reaction something I hadn't expected.

"W-what are you doing?" He asked pulling away to look me in the eyes. I bit my lip giving him a look.

"Oh" He said letting out a breath.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah"

"Have you ever....." He trailed off. I nodded watching his face drop.

"If it helps I didn't really like the guy. And it was a long time ago"

"Oh" He kind of perked up.

"So? Are we good here?" I asked placing a soft kiss on his neck. And another and another. Until finally settling on a spot. Earning a throaty groan from the ghost.

"Yup" He squeaked out making me smirk. I placed my hand where it had been previously hiking it up his shirt. He quickly removed it before pulling me back in for a rough kiss.

"Reggie" I moaned as I began to grind on him only earning a soft whimper from the boy. Thankful my parents were out of town. Not for Reggies sake but mine.

"Come on y/n/n don't tease me now"

"You asked for it Reg" I smirked standing up. I smiled noticing how intently he was watching my next moves. I quickly removed my shirt and bra watching him gulp down nervously.

"Like what you see?" I asked biting my lip nervously.

I watched as he nodded eagerly before continuing. I removed my jeans as well leaving me in my panties before slowly bending down in front of him.

"N-no" He spoke stopping me from reaching toward his jeans.

"W-why not?" I asked confused.

"It's just- I wanna be with you tonight. We have plenty of time for everything else but this. This is different. It's our first time. I mean like not our first times but like our first time together and I-" I quickly cut off his cute rambling again with a kiss.

"I get it Reg. It's about us tonight" I smiled pushing him back onto my bed. Straddling him once more.

“Your so beautiful" He whispered his hands flying to my waist.

"Why thank you Reginald" I spoke bending down to meet his lips. Our bare chest coming into contact for the very first time. I moaned as he toyed with the waistband of my panties.

"Reggie please do something" I mumbled against his lips. He immediately took action flipping us over.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked waiting for my consent.

I simply nodded watching as he removed his jeans and boxers letting his hard on spring free from the contained fabric.

"Reggie" I panted digging my teeth into my bottom lip to widthold from the unholy sounds threatening to escape my lips.

"What baby? What do you want?" He teased pushing his finger against the fabric of my panties.

"You" He quickly ripped apart the thin fabric around my waist letting it fall off my body. Throwing it off to the side.

"Are you ready?"

"Wait!" I shouted pulling open a nearby drawer. I pulled out a condom from a box that had been sitting there for a while.

"Protection? Why do you have that there?"

"Well I knew this day would come Reg. I was hoping it would be with you" I said a smile forming on his face.

"Do you think we'll need it? I mean I'm a ghost"

"Safety first baby"

"Well okay then" He said slipping it on.

"Okay now are you ready?" I nodded as he slowly entered me.

Our moans filled the room as he let me adjust to his size.

"Baby your so tight" "Yeah well it's been a while" I muttered pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Okay you can move" I said giving him the go.

"If you want me to stop just say so okay?"

"Okay" I confirmed as he lent down to place a kiss upon my lips. He slowly began to move until he found a good pace. His thrust moving faster as a spur of moans left our lips.

"God I love you so much" I mumbled against my lips.

"Mmm. Faster Reg!" I encouraged him really feeling the pleasure course through me now. Getting exactly what I wanted I began to moan louder feeling him hitting my G spot at the perfect angle.

"Right there" I spoke feeling a knot forming in my lower stomach.

"I'm so close baby"

"Me too" He panted. We both released our orgasms at the same time relief washing over me as he pulled out. I laid back on the bed watching him throw the condom in the trash can under my desk.

"That was amazing" He said coming back to hover over me.

"It was" I smiled up at him. Pulling him down from behind his neck for another kiss. "I love you baby. I love you so much"

"I love you more" I said as he laid down beside me pulling the covers over us.

"Impossible"

#reggie x reader #reggie jatp #alex jatp #charlie gillespie #flynn jatp #jeremy shada #julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke jatp #madison reyes #owen patrick joyner #sacha carlson #sunset curve #luke x reader #luke patterson #alex x reader #owen joyner #jadah marie

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btsslowburnfic · 3 years

Text

The Arrangement Ch 12

Series Summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter Summary: Work work and meeting the lead Fashion designer at BigHit Previous Chapter here You arrived back at 1802 and put away the groceries. True to his word, Yoongi had let you carry all the bags back while he stuffed his cold hands deep into his coat.

“What’s tomorrow’s schedule look like?” He asked, collapsing down onto the couch.

You took out your phone. “You have a meeting with Adora at 10 am. It looks like the conference room on the 24th floor has already been reserved by Jiwoo. Other than that, not much. You have your afternoon blocked out.”

“Cool.” He scrolled through his phone.

You walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out your leftovers. “Do you want anything while I’m in here?” You asked.

“No. I don’t eat a lot.” He responded.

You put your food on a plate and positioned yourself at the barstool. “Do you know the person who is retiring on Saturday?” You asked right before taking a bite of your food.

“Just casually. He’s been here forever. He was BPD’s assistant for a long time and then took a less intense position these past couple of years. I think he works in the gallery as a docent.”

“There’s a gallery? Jesus, this building has everything.” You said amazed.

“It has a lot. I haven’t been. They change the exhibits every few months.”

You took your phone out and researched the gallery a bit. How interesting. You added your meeting with Jimin to your calendar and added a few other personal items for next week.

You got up and rinsed your plate and then set the coffee maker for the morning. “Alright dude, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the groceries.”

He looked up from his phone. “You’re already going to bed? I thought you were a night owl?”

You shrugged. “ I think I’m making up for years of sleep deprivation honestly. I’m sure I’ll be back to it in no time. Plus you know, mild panic attack earlier.”

“Ah right. Sorry about that again. Good night,” He said.

You gave a small smile and realized about halfway down the hallway that your heart was racing. Hey. Calm down. You’re the one in charge here.

Yoongi got up from the couch. He wouldn’t be tired for hours. He would normally go back to the studio, but after your confession earlier he didn’t want to leave you alone in case Jin’s crazy girlfriend was still around and going to start screaming again. He sighed and went up to the loft area, pulling out his laptop. He could work some from here he supposed.

----------

You woke up and threw on your robe. Shuffling out to the kitchen you saw that coffee was missing from the pot, indicating that Yoongi had already started his day. You grabbed a mug and headed back to your room to get ready.

When you arrived at your desk you were pleasantly surprised to see some stationary had been left on your desk, as well as a small plant. Huh, cute. You sat down and answered the usual round of emails, confirmed events, and made a list of things you would need to check with Yoongi before answering.

Y/N: Hey! I have some questions I need to ask you before I answer some emails. Are you available? Also do you need me to attend the 10am with you?

Y: come in.

You smiled and walked around the corner to the studio. You tried to turn the handle and it was locked. You smirked and keyed in the code.

"Good morning," you said, closing the door behind you.

"Did you sleep OK?" he asked, not turning around from the computer monitors.

"I did. Thanks. I didn't bring coffee, would you like me to go grab some?"

"No, it’s fine." He responded.

You walked closer and perched yourself on the edge of the couch closest to him. You sat down your pen and paper. He was clearly in the middle of something.

He pushed a few more buttons on the console and hit play, a beat suddenly filled the studio. It sounded good to you, but all you knew about music was that you liked to dance to it. You watched as he listened to it with his entire body. He hit stop.

"Ugh… It's still not right. Fuck." he slid his hands down his jeans

"I can come back later if it's better for you. I didn't want to interrupt."

He spun around in the chair. "No. You're fine. What did you need to ask me?"

“Namjoon sent a list of artists who have expressed an interest in collaborating with you. He wants you to pick your top 3. Here," you handed him the list.

Yoongi took the paper and looked over it boredly. So many people were just interested in collaboration for their own sake; using him to get their music recognized. People always fucking using him. He could feel himself starting to get angry and took a deep breath.

"Hey. We can do this later, ok? What do you need from me for your meeting? Anything?" You could tell this was bothering him but had no idea why.

Yoongi looked up at you. Weren't you also using him? For the money? The idea flashed across his mind for a moment before he told himself to shut up.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Here. " He got a pen and circled 3.

You took the paper back. "Oooo Post Malone? That would be sick. I actually haven't really listened to your music yet," you mused as you looked at the other two artists he had circled.

Yoongi felt himself relaxing more as you began to talk. "No?" he made a tch sound, "You'll have to listen sometime."

"Oh yeah?” Your eyes flicked back up to him. “Make me a mixtape. Your ‘best of’."

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling like he was in middle school. "You want me to make you a mixtape?"

"Yep." You smiled. "OK. Your meeting with Adora is in fifteen minutes. What do you need?"

He thought for a few seconds. "I just need my laptop and some headphones. You don't need to come, she and I will just be listening to music. If we end up back down here I'll let you know." Yoongi got up to start collecting his things.

"Alright. Sounds good. I'll see you later." You let yourself out and emailed Namjoon Yoongi's choices. You watched as he walked past you to the elevators.

Yoongi tried to make sure he didn't look at you as he walked past. He didn't want to seem like a creep. But last night, the more he thought about what you had told him, the more upset he got about it. While his family wasn't supportive of his goals, theirs was from a place of concern. And they were never violent or even the type to yell.

Yoongi knew there was nothing he could have done. He didn't even live in the same city as you growing up. He didn't know you when you guys were kids. But he found himself wishing he did. That there could have been a way for him to have protected you from that. He sighed, remembering that this morning the first thing he thought about was you, and if you were safe. What was happening to him? He got on the elevator and headed on up to his meeting.

You responded to Jiwoo's email regarding personalized stationery. You had selected your initials with the Genius Lab logo in the bottom. The sample version you designed made you feel proud. You had asked if Yoongi also had stationary and he did not. So you ordered some for him as well.

Before you knew it, your stomach was growling. As though your mind was being read your phone pinged.

J: There's Food trucks out front. Let's goooo!

YN: what kind?

JK: I'm stuck at a shoot, grab me something and bring it to the 11th floor and I'll love you forever

YN: Is this a group chat?

J: welcooooome. Meet me in the lobby!

YN: Ok.

You took the elevator down and saw Jimin’s beautiful blonde locks from across the lobby.

"Happy Friday, gorgeous!" he greeted you. "On Fridays food trucks sometimes park along this street." He explained, gesturing through the glass windows to several food trucks waiting.

"Oh my God. Is that a crepe truck?" you asked.

"Yep. Let's get a few different things and share. V just texted and he's saving us a seat in the cafeteria."

All of a sudden you wanted to cry. You had friends that texted you and wanted to eat with you? This was too good to be true. What was the catch? You found yourself wondering.

"Hey. YN. Are you ok? Here, we can use the company card if you're worried since you just started here." Jimin tried to guess what might be bothering you.

"What?" you asked, confused for a minute. "No. I'm sorry. I'm just so happy you guys included me, I was frozen with happiness."

Jimin laughed. "You are too cute. I don't know why Namjoon thinks you're secretly a dominatrix". He walked over towards the exit.

"Wait what? Your boss called me that?" you chased after him.

Jimin kept laughing "No no. Just how he's glad someone's finally whipping Yoongi into shape. I added the dominatrix part." The two of you lined up for crepes.

You felt a little annoyed. You weren’t making Yoongi do anything. "Pshhh, whatever. I'm just nice to him. I ask him nicely to do things and he does them if he wants to."

"Sure, sure." Jimin teased. "Hey let's split up so we can get food twice as fast."

"Sounds good," you agreed.

You felt your phone vibrate and you took it out.

Y: Hey. Still in the meeting. We won't be breaking for lunch and I don't want you to wait on me. Not that you would. But just in case.

Aww how nice of him.

YN:OK, thanks! Make sure to eat something this afternoon. You didn't eat dinner last night.

Y: k

You ordered several crepes and waited for Jimin to meet you back by the lobby entrance. He had gone to a kimchi truck , ordering many different food items as well. You made your way to the 3rd floor, home to the cafeteria and gym. It seemed so evil to have these two on the same floor you thought.

You guys walked in with Jimin looking around for V. Having found him, the two of you walked over. He already had a sizeable amount of food on the table.

“Hey guys.” He smiled, reaching out to take some of the food from your hands.

“This one is for Yoongi,” You said as you sat down and placed one of the containers next to you, away from the center.

“That’s so sweet of you.” V said.

“It’s nothing. Oh, aren’t you supposed to take food to your other friend?” You asked Jimin who had just returned from grabbing napkins and chopsticks.

“Yeah, he’s still in the shoot. We’ll just take him a few bites from each dish. You haven’t met Jungkook yet have you?”

The three of you started divvying up food onto bowls and plates. “No. I’ve seen pictures of him in magazines and stuff, but I haven’t had the honor yet.”

“He’s a good kid.” V said.

“He’s a grown ass man.” Jimin retorted.

V rolled his eyes. “The point remains. He’s coming to the party on Saturday so I’m sure you’ll meet him then.”

Silence filled the table as you all started to shovel food into your faces.

“So what dorm did they put you in?” Jimin asked through bites of food.

Shit. You did not want to tell them that you were living with Yoongi. For so many reasons. But you didn’t want to lie to your new friends.

“I’m in a private room. I think since Yoongi keeps unconventional hours they wanted me to not bother the other girls.” You said and then stuffed a crepe into your mouth.

“That makes sense. A lot of the models are also in private smaller apartments too since we have to fly in and out of the country at strange hours,” V said. “Jimin and I live across the hall from each other on the 20th floor.”

“That’s how we became such good friends. We kept running into each other on the way to the gym and cafe. It was…” Jimin took a deep breath and dramatically paused, “DESTINY.” He reached out his hand. V laughed and the linked pinkies for a split second.

“Alright, I have to get back to work. I’ll see you later Jimin. See you tomorrow Y/N.” Tae said as he gathered up some of this trash and stood up.

“Later.” You waved.

Jimin packed up the rest of the food and some utensils to deliver to JK. “Alright, let’s go deliver some lunches.”

The two of you exited the cafeteria. “Ugh. Why is the gym next to the cafeteria.” You lamented once more.

“I know. In the morning they make bread and it’s all I can smell when I work out. I hate it.” Jimin stepped onto the elevator with you following. “What did you get Yoongi?”

“Kimchi crepe. I had one as well. It was good. If he doesn’t want it, I’ll eat it.”

The elevator arrived at the 11th floor. “Alright babe, see you in a little while.”

“Thanks again for the lunch invite.” You smiled as the doors closed. You sighed and took out your phone.

YN: I grabbed you some food from the food trucks. I’m getting ready to put it in the break room unless you want it somewhere else. I have a 2pm meeting but will be available by text.

You dropped the food off and stopped by your desk. You answered more emails and soon it was almost time to go meet Jimin again. You went back to the apartment and changed into leggings and a tank top. You threw a sweater on over it and headed down to the 6th floor.

The first thing you noticed about the 6th floor looked like a rainbow vomited all over it. The colors were all over the place, you looked around for Jimin and not seeing him you sat down on a large orange sofa under a large graffiti-style painting that said JHOPE FASHION.

You heard the clack of heels a few seconds later.

"Yoongi's assistant! " A voice happily shouted, belonging to the man who had escorted you to your apartment a few nights ago. Today he was dressed in an immaculate pinstripe suit that looked normal, save for the psychedelic dress shirt poking out from under his jacket and the lime green socks you could barely see.

You stood up, "Hey. Nice to see you again."

"I'm so sorry. I forgot your name." He said.

"Ah. Same actually. I'm YN."

" Hoseok. Jimin is running a bit late but he told me you would be stopping by Come along." he quickly turned and headed down the bright hallway.

You followed him down the kaleidoscope-inspired hallway and entered a bright open room. There were several other people in there. The room was lined with mirrors and pedestals. People who you could only assume were models were having alterations done.

You followed Hoseok over to one of the empty pedestals where he stopped to turn and look at you.

"Alright, do you have other clothes? Because I can not see your figure with that sweater on." He got straight to the point.

"Oh. Yes of course." You awkwardly removed your garment. He took the sweater from you and sat it on a small purple chair.

"Stand." He gestured to a small pedestal and offered you his hand

You climbed up on the raised platform while Hoseok studied your body. It felt invasive and awkward, but at the same time, normal because everyone else in the room was having the same thing done. You felt almost like a model for a few seconds.

"Hey girl. You're getting the full JHope experience today I see." You heard a familiar voice. You turned your head and saw Jimin walking over holding some Boba tea.

He handed one to Hoseok. He looked up at you, "Sorry. No drinks near the merch."

"She's not getting the full JHope experience, I would never do that with Yoongi's assistant." Hoseok teased Jimin. You weren't quite sure what he was talking about, but you could take a guess.

He continued his lap around you, eyeing you predatorily. He paused for a moment, staring at your backside more intently.

" Hey, get away from my ass." You scolded. Jimin lost his shit and started cackling.

Suddenly very serious, Hoseok remarked, "I have to figure out which cut of jeans will look the best in that ass so I'm going to look at it. If you want me to style you, you have to be prepared, Y/N."

"Sorry, he's a little intense. But he also just said he's not going to try to sleep with you, so your ass is safe." Jimin said, having regained some of his composure.

You scowled. "Oh yea? Is that what the full experience is?"

"You two need to quiet yourselves." Hoseok was back to looking at you.

You blinked for a second, suddenly putting two and two together.

"You're THE JHope of JHOPE fashion house."

Hosoek’s eyes flicked up to you. "One and the same."

JHope fashion was known for its mixture of traditional clothing with bold and colorful patterns.

"Well then, please sir. Look at my ass." You teased.

To your surprise, he started to laugh and clapped his hands. "You are funny. OK. Step down. You and Soojin are about the same body type. Let me pull her wardrobe and see what we have." He walked back towards a bright green door and disappeared behind it.

Jimin smiled while looking around the room. “So. What do you think?”

“I feel like I’m in a Kdrama to be honest.” You responded. “Small town girl moves to big city. Boy feels bad for her and gives her clothes. Girl begins new life. You know the genre.”

“Haha yeah. Are you from a small town?”

“No. I’m from Busan and I’ve lived in Seoul for the past 7 years.”

Hoseok walked out the door carrying a few clothing items. “Here. I don’t have time to do alterations or anything but take these home and try them on. There are samples of different styles of clothes: jeans, different styles of skirts and dresses, shirts, jackets. For Saturday try on some of the printed dresses. It’s a barbecue restaurant so if you spill sauce you want it to be on a pattern so it blends in better and doesn’t stand out.”

“Ok, thanks.” you stepped down and took the hangers from him. “When should I return these by?”

“These are marked as trash. So if they don’t fit you, you can donate them. If they fit you, keep them.”

“Really?” You asked, still in disbelief. “Like. For free. Just take these?”

“Yep.” Hoeseok said. “Just don’t go around telling everyone in the building. We get a tax write off for defects so we can’t have all of the clothing walking off. This is because Jimin said you’re cool.”

You looked over at Jimin who was blushing slightly. “Thanks Jimin.”

“It’s nothing. Hey, do you have my clothes ready?” He asked, seeming to remember that he also came here for something.

“No. JK’s shoot went over. He’s been working out too much and he busted out of one of his shirts. We had to remake one on the fly and it took my free time. I’ll bring it by tonight.”

Your eyes bugged out slightly and you tried to not imagine the model who you had only seen photos of busting out of a shirt. It didn’t work though.

“You're so lucky.” Jimin pouted.

“I was too busy being annoyed to appreciate his physique.” Hoseok retorted. “Anyways, I need to get back to work. I’ll see you two tomorrow. Now shoo.” He gestured over to the door.

You grabbed your sweater off the chair and headed back towards the elevators with your new stash in tow. Next stop: your closet. NEXT CHAPTER @lidda @anpanman-sonyeondan @firefairy1 @cuteipat @sugaslittlekookies @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny

#suga x you #yoongi imagine #bts yoongi x reader #bts suga x you #suga x reader #bts fic #bts writing #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #suga x y/n #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for being Peter Parker’s Younger Sibling

Peter Parker x sibling!reader

warnings: bullying mention, blood mention

a/n: a fuckin reach, its been a WHILE since ive seen tasm

prompt: y/n is peter’s sibling

peter and you were playful kids

you were just a year and some months younger than him, so you had a harder time remembering your parents than him

but he always told you stories about them that made you miss them a little more

peter was a genius, we all know it

he was the one helping you with your homework most nights

“peter i cant do it!”

“that’s okay, y/n. look, start with two times four, that’s eight, then four times six, twenty-four, right?”

“can i say a cuss word?”

“sure”

“math is shit”

you would cry during homework a lot

you’d also pass out on his floor after talking for hours

and you’d either wake up facedown on the floor or in your room since uncle ben would pick you up and put you to bed

peter took it upon himself to take you back to your room, but he usually dragged you by the arm, sooooo

you’d play action figures together

he was batman, you were robin always

“can i be batman?”

“oldest gets to be batman so im batman”

“but i wanna be batman!”

peter walked you to your school before taking off on his skateboard

and he’d pick you up on his way home

on half-days your brother taught you how to skate

you fell a lot

aunt may had to patch you up

“how many times do i have to tell you those skateboards are dangerous?!”

peter got you your own skateboard so that you could practice without him

you would text him after you did a trick and he’d always say hell yes! show me when i get home!

being his photography assistant

really you were his assistant constantly

science fair was the most boring day of the year

“y/n, stand right here, i need to get something from my locker”

*judges walk up while youre left unattended and in a state of PANIC*

you were bullied in middle school, same as peter, he’d always stick up for you and get beat up instead

it made you very mad but it was scary, too

“how’d you get into this fight, peter?”

“oh, you know, just happened”

“peter was sticking up for me, uncle ben”

“was he now? you’re a good brother, peter”

lonely when he moved onto high school :/

but you got there soon enough

you guys were kind of loners, just ate lunch together, lugged around your skateboards, you were an artist, he was a photographer

just spectating the chaos of high school, rolling your eyes at the drama

“i have two bucks, do you want anything from the vending machine?”

“uhh, a coke?”

you saw peter get bullied by flash and lost your shitttt

you actually started a food fight after throwing mashed potatoes in his eyes

“what the hell, parker?!”

“sit down and eat your goddamn food, flash, or next time it wont be potatoes”

peter was half-proud, half-embarrassed

trying to see how long you could skate through the halls before any authority figures stopped you

sometimes......you guys got sent to the office together :)

*phone ringing* “hello, is this ben parker?”

“which one of them is it this time?”

the principal’s office was a trip sometimes

you and peter exchange your glances and wait to get scolded

“ah, the parkers, come in, lets have a chat...why do you two always feel the need to get in trouble together?”

“we just happen to get along really well for siblings”

no you fuckin dont lmaoooo

it was always something with you two

like always

*banging on peter’s door* “I KNOW YOU HAVE MY BROWNIES, PETER, GIVE THEM BACK”

*peter through a mouthful of brownies* “I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOURE TALKING ABOUT, YOURE CRAZY”

“is that my jacket?” -peter

“you mean my jacket?”

“y/n, i swear to god if you steal any more of my clothes it’s over for you”

“well, aunt may keeps giving me your clothes, so take it up with her”

and then there was just the little annoying things

“peter, can you stop clicking your pen?”

*clicks pen faster*

“you’re the worst”

and my personal favorite

“peter, open the door”

“why?”

“emergency”

*opens bedroom door* “what?”

“aunt may is making meatloaf”

“shit, uh...get your board, we’ll skate to mcdonalds and tell her we already ate”

peter and you RARELY ever brought your parents up until he found your dad’s briefcase, you didn’t have much to say

soon he was flooding his room with conspiracies and pulling you in to explain them

he began acting REALLY weird, but he was pretty open with you, he told you he went to oscorp

“YOU SNUCK IN??”

“your standards for me are way too high, y/n”

soon you started to feel not-so-good and weird things started to happen

“peter??”

“yeah? whats up?”

“this is gonna sound really weird...my hand is stuck to the door”

“it happened to you, too??”

“happening, pete. wait—this happened to you?? what is this???????”

yall done fucked up and got bit by spiders peter had so carelessly brought back into the house

it was an adjustment to say the least

and this adjustment got a whole lot harder that one night...you can remember peter just...so upset

you tried to chase him out to make sure he was okay, but uncle ben told you to stay with your aunt

maybe if you’d have been there...it would’ve been different, but when the cops got to your house you were at a loss for words

peter was covered in his blood still

“hey, hey, just breathe, okay? it’s not your fault, peter. just hop in the shower, yeah? i’ll take care of your clothes”

when peter took your advice and you were left alone, you just cried, you cried until he finally found you curled up in a ball in your room

then he cried, you just hugged each other sobbing your eyes out

peter got distant for a while, which was rough since the two of your were mourning for your uncle and dealing with these newfound powers

sooner or later he came around and helped you out, designing webshooters and a suit for you

“we match?”

*sigh* “yeah...yeah, we match”

ah yes, spider-team

you really tripped out new york at first, they thought spider-man was a teleporter

peter was still talking about your dad, but you really didn’t care, uncle ben was always going to be who raised you

you and peter would be covered in bruises after going out

“uh—peter punched me”

“y/n???!!!”

“I PANICKED”

just being dumb scared teens that cant function to save their lives until they get a little bit lucky

seriously like, every big villain you guys fought was just the worst

peter didn’t help all the time, he was good at provoking them sometimes

“hey, spider-man, you mind shutting up for a minute? for my sake?”

“sorry, sorry, just couldn’t help myself!”

he gushed to you about gwen stacy, he actually dragged you to her apartment to be patched up by her SEVERAL TIMES

yadda yadda yadda peter graduated high school! how cool is that? but he was late (what a surprise) even though you put off spidering today just for this

but he made it and you clapped the loudest for him

“thats my brotherrrr!!!”

cute family picture! (aunt may printed a bunch of them and gave them to you two and peter pinned them to his wall)

you and peter actually have a lot of pictures of the two of you just goofing off

he has one of you stuck in a trash can that cracks him up every time

seeing harry osborn again after YEARS

“wow, y/n, last time i saw you i just thought you were peter’s annoying little sibling”

“aww, it’s good to see you, too”

electrooooo

this guy really worried you bc like, bzzzz shock

you and peter weren’t equipped for that

it took a while, but you were finally able to deal with that

and several other problems

including peter’s breakup, which was a whole ordeal of its own

*peter laying upside down on your bed* “i dont know, y/n, you know? i wanna be with her so bad, i love her...but her dad is haunting me”

*you, drawing on your notepad with your legs propped up on his* “yeah, makes sense”

you actually had to tap out during the end of electro, you were hurt pretty bad

“y/n, hey? yeah, you’re okay. stay here, just stay right there, i’m gonna be back for you”

*thumbs up to show youre still alive*

but when peter came back for you there was bad news, he’d lost gwen

he ripped his mask off and fell to his knees, you could barely move but you powered through it, giving him a hug while he cried

“we...we better get home before aunt may starts to worry”

she was at work, so you two had the place to yourselves to clean up and mourn before the official news was revealed

“i should have listened to her dad, y/n, this is all my fault”

he was a mess, you couldn’t bare seeing him like this. it’s been so long since you’d seen him like this

the funeral was rough, peter was grasping onto your shoulder the whole time

he insisted that he was going to stick behind and stay with gwen for a while

“okay, i’ll see you at home...love you”

“love you too”

you gave him a hug and left him to his business, the next few months you were the only spider-person operating in new york...until rhino popped up

“im coming with you”

“you’re sure?”

“yeah, im sure”

(these are kinda ass but anyways im tagging my marvel ppl even tho ik this isnt mcu so just ignore this post if you dont care, sorry!!)

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @allthecreativeonesaretaken // @frostedgiant // @praellee // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs //

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #andrew garfield #amazing spider man #amazing spider man x reader #amazing spider man imagine #parker!reader #peter parker x sibling!reader #peter parker x sister!reader

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Mold Me New (6) — Taehyung

A Small Town Swoons Story

Pairing: Taehyung x reader (nicknamed Frog)

Wordcount: 3.7k

Genre: ceramic artist!Taehyung, divorced!reader, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, sliht angst, Slice of Life

Rating: suggested 18+ for future smut

Hello to my readers!!! Welcome to the Small Town Swoons Universe!🥰✨

In this episode: Frog and Taehyung are gettin closer and closer. As they both face their most vulnerable moments since they met, finding comfort in each other's arms.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: kissing, mild swearing, allusions to smut. Taehyung suffers from tendinitis in his hands after he worked too much. Frog talks about the end of her marriage and her approach to attraction, mentioning that she could be demisexual. About this specific point, the discussion is very short and doesn't focus on details, but THAT doesn't absolutely mean that demisexuality isn't a large and delicate topic that should be disucssed in depth, it only means that the character is growing in that direction and that she'll eventually educate herself more about that topic.

Once more I'm thanking Rid (aka @taegularities). We're in this soft sh!t together 🤍

In case you like my writing, here is my directory for idol!AUs, scenarios and imagines. And in case you need it, here’s the Spotify music companion.

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

Enjoy 💜✨

Entering the studio was mind blowing. It looked like a garden of statues.

Sitting on the floor was Taehyung, using his elbows and forearms to wedge a large body of clay.

“Tae?”

He looked at you standing in the doorway, smiling at you almost apologetically while you were entirely shocked.

“Why are you wedging with your elbows?”

“Tendinitis.” He still smiled like his fingers and palm didn’t feel shredded by thorns.

“For god’s sake, Tae!” You made your way to him, feeling like a cat trying to slalom through an endless field of obstacles. “Baby,” you murmured, crouching down next to him, tutting and fussing once you spotted how messed up he was.

He had clay in his hair, on his face, all over his apron. “Babe.”

“I wanted to create.”

You held his face in your hands, kissing his forehead over and over. “How long have you been here?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s five o’clock. Like all of our lessons,” you reminded him, wide eyed, shaking your head.

“I’ve been here since four.”

You closed your eyes and exhaled. “Tell me you mean four in the afternoon.”

He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Of yesterday.”

Your face contorted in disappointment. “Get out of here!” You helped him up, clicking your tongue once you noticed he was barely able to hold himself up on his knees.

“I just stayed in the same position for too long,” he whined at your stern look.

“This cannot do, Taehyung,” you scolded him, before blocking his face, which was aiming at the crook of your neck. “No cuddles. We need to clean you up first.”

He pouted as you got rid of his apron quickly. “How aren’t you tired? Look at the floor! How can you even move in here, Taehyung!”

“Don’t call me by my full name, it scares me,” he objected, puppy eyed. “And your lesson?”

“We’re postponing that. Have you eaten at least?” You stared at the floor as you led him to the large sink.

He followed you as your hands held his hips. He liked how you touched him, and he loved how comfortable you looked doing so. Once he stood in front of the sink, you grabbed some soap and foamed it up, holding his hands and running them under the water, covering them in bubbles and getting a small groan out of him. “This will teach you a lesson,” you mumbled, intertwining your fingers with his and rubbing them together. “Does it hurt?”

He shook his head before leaning his head against your shoulder while you stood behind him. “It feels better with you.”

You couldn’t hold yourself back from placing a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s clean up your pretty face.”

Still, he tried to deepen the kiss, chasing you, hoping you’d let it slide. “You think I’m pretty?”

“You’re not just pretty. You’re scandalously good looking. You’re disgustingly perfect.”

He smiled and tried to turn. He wanted to plant his face against your chest and feel your digits massaging his scalp. He also wanted to feel you naked against his skin, but that was far from any sexual motive: he simply wanted warmth, closeness, affection. He wanted softness and intimacy. “Can we cuddle now?”

“You still have half a kilo of clay on your arms,” you replied as you took it off with gentle strokes of your palms, adding more soap to make sure no dirt was left.

“Can we cuddle after that?”

You nodded, nuzzling your nose into his hair. “We can do anything you want.”

He lowered his face to the faucet and cleaned it up, washing away the smear of dried up clay on his cheek.

“You should shower, darling,” you said, grabbing a paper towel and dabbing it against his wet face. “Or we could wash your hair.”

“Are you staying over?” He looked so hopeful, so entirely enamoured. You could barely resist him.

“I stayed over last week. I’d feel a bit out of place,” you replied shyly, trying not to feel conflicted. On one side, you felt like you were taking advantage of him, on the other you longed to caress his hair and kiss his nape until he fell asleep at your side. You also wanted to wake up with his hair tickling your chest as he gave you tiny kisses all over your neck and throat, exploiting the warmth and softness of that special spot for a gentle wake up call.

At the beginning you had worried about staying over on that first night, after dinner and… and the couch thingie. You slightly feared the thought that sharing a bed somehow meant pressuring each other into a type of intimacy neither of you was ready for. And then, a week after that fatidic rendezvous, he had asked for you to stay the night and sleep — just sleep — together. He had been extremely clear about his intentions, declaring them after dinner as you were lounging on the sofa once more. You had watched a film, made out, calmed down, washed up and headed to bed, where he had clung to you until his breathing turned into a delicate huffing sound.

You had barely resisted tears once you noticed he tended to pucker his lips in his sleep, his cheeks becoming fluffier and rounder. He had an adorable baby face.

“What if I wanted you to stay, though?” Taehyung murmured, giving you a dubious look. As he noticed you hesitating, he added: “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to stay. It would be on the same terms as last time. I’m not pressuring you or anything I—”

Finally you gave up. Maybe his presence would help you. “Okay.”

He grinned, “I should shower then.”

“You want me to cook something as you wash up?”

His eyes got wide and glittery before he kissed your cheek. “Yes, please.”

“What should I make?”

“I like anything in the fridge. Do as you please,” he replied before you moved your head in confirmation.

Once in the house, you headed for the kitchen while he immediately hit the shower. He wanted to be away from you as little as possible. Most activities were painful, like grabbing bottles and massaging his scalp and basically anything that required him to grip and strain his hand muscles and tendons. At a certain point he entirely gave up on his hair, washing his body and getting out of the shower, drying up and wearing a pair of boxers and loose pyjama pants.

“Frog?” he called from the door.

“I made bruschetta! Bread, sliced cherry tomatoes, it’s in the oven,” you answered.

“Can you come here?”

You quickly lowered the oven temperature and reached him.

You inhaled brusquely once you noticed his lean, smooth torso naked, little droplets of water still glistening here and there. “Could you wash my hair? I can’t really use my fingers much.”

You nodded silently, inhaling as you took in his chest. He looked so beautiful, his chest lithe and well-built, his tummy holding a millimetric curve, flat but not muscled. You liked it a lot.

“Shall we?”

Silently you followed him, watching as he bent down over the sink and opened the tap to further wet his hair. You noticed the bottle of shampoo and squeezed a small amount on your palm, watering it down and beginning to energetically scrub his scalp. “This okay?”

Taehyung hummed in reply, turning his head to the side a little to offer you a better angle. “Very okay. Actually, fine. Ideal.”

You smiled.

It took you a bit more time than you thought, mostly because you were a bit distracted. “Are you sleepy, sweetheart?” you asked once you managed to finish, helping him stand up straight and drying his hair haphazardly with a towel.

“I’m so caffeinated I can barely think straight,” he murmured, purring once he noticed the way you were still looking at him. “Frog. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He cupped the back of your head before he leaned to your face, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and forcing you to unseal yours, his tongue sliding in sinuously, his other arm pinning you to him. “Like you really want me to do this.”

Once your back hit the wall, his warm body contrasting with the cold tiles against your spine, you realised you needed to slow down. “Tae. Dinner,” you reminded him.

“Sure,” he unglued you from the tiles. “Do you even want me to put a shirt on?”

You shook your head and smirked. “You sure are a smooth mess.” His eyelashes looked magical from this up close. After almost three months of knowing him, you still wondered how he could be so absolutely perfect, and so real.

“Is that a yes or a no?” He cocked an eyebrow, adding a mischievous grin on his face.

“It’s definitely a yes, you tease!”

After dinner you decided to go for your usual shenanigans and headed for the living room, finding yourself a little dumbstruck when you noticed a large sculpture on the coffee table, which had been moved out of the way and to a dry and cool place. The structure was as large as your upper half and, as you switched on the lights you recognised exactly what it was. The torso was still drying, as the colour showed, and for a second you asked yourself how it would ever dry. It would of course hold water in its core, causing the structure to fail and break. And then, it would never fit in his kiln.

“You like it?”

You turned towards Taehyung. “What material is it?”

“Modelling dough. It’s made for large structures. It dries in a couple hours.There are about ten layers latched on a metallic structure. It’s modelled after you.”

Your eyes widened. “Is that why your hands have been acting up?”

He looked away in a manner that told you that yes, that was the very reason.

“Do you have a balm or something?” you asked, trying to fix the mess he made.

He left the room and came back with a glass jar. “Arnica gel smells very bad but works fine.”

You took your place on the sofa, patting the spot at your side to invite him there. He joined you in a nanosecond, placing the jar on your lap. Methodically, entirely caught in your thoughts, you opened the lid, got some lotion on his palm and began rubbing the pressure points on his palm before turning to the back of it and tracing the tendons energetically.

His relieved groan echoed into the room before he let his head fall on the back of the sofa.

The massage went on for a bit, the motions so mechanical that your mind started to wander until you eventually said your thoughts out loud.

Having him to assist had calmed you down enough that you felt ready to reflect over your worries.

“Today is my wedding anniversary. Or it was.” You kept staring at your digits digging into his flesh. “I don’t really know how I should talk about it.”

Taehyung, though looking like a lazy feline, was actually paying close attention to your words. “How was it, being married?”

You shook your head. “At the beginning there was a lot of emotion and companionship. And then life carried us away from each other. Like two leaves scattered in different directions by the wind.” Your explanation was something that had become a truth to you: at the beginning you had tortured yourself with understanding why and how it had happened. And then you had accepted the blatant way of things: separation.

“Are you scared of it happening again? That companionship to separation process?”

You shrugged. “Not really. If people drift apart, then maybe it’s because they were meant to be together for a while before they could venture towards different destinations.”

Taehyung moved closer to your neck, to get impossibly nearer. If he could, he would have crawled underneath your skin, to inhabit you like a squirrel does a tree. He wanted to build his nest in your heart and sing all his favourite songs to you, and from you he would never, ever part.

He knew he was letting himself romanticise the affection and comfort he felt for you, however, he couldn’t find anything that made him disappointed with you, or that annoyed him. There were small things here and there that made him question your approach to life, but your grounded self was the kind of roots he needed to drift in the wind and let everything surprise and amaze him.

You were his anchor and he was so infinitely glad to have met you.

“How do you feel about the whole marriage thing? Do you still believe in it?” His voice was incredibly velvety, like a mother’s caress, a lover’s glance.

You pondered your emotions and sensations. “I believe I do. I mean, it’s not like I think I failed something or love is a lie and all of that. I’m just trying to understand the… the ground rules—” You took a pause, trying to explain yourself. “Like, the foreword, you know?”

He listened and let you talk.

“What makes a couple fit for marriage? And then, what is marriage? I need it to be more than just a bunch of paperwork and legal duties. But maybe it’s just that.”

Taehyung rubbed his naked foot against yours. His feet were freezing. Plus it felt funny to test the smoothness of your calf with the sole. He wished the two of you could cuddle under the sheets, talk until the larks would start singing and thin rays of premature sunshine would start lighting up the dawn and stream into the room, colouring your face with a greyish halo before it turned pink, and then orange and then deep red for the briefest minute until bright yellow settled in.

He wanted to study the colours of you bathed in any type of light, any shade and palette that would come with the passing hours.

“I think I want more than paperwork and formalities too. It's a promise after all. You're officially telling your beloved that you will be by their side forever.”

“As someone who betrayed that promise, I don't think I can see it from that point of view anymore.” You exhaled before he placed an arm around you, almost sitting on your lap as he offered you his untreated hand.

He frowned. “It’s not like you betrayed it. You honoured it. It might say ‘till death do us part’ and all of that, but the biggest promise is to be at each other’s side, to find happiness and support and comfort in each other. You realised you couldn’t hold on to each other anymore and you let go.” He kissed your cheek. “Your right to happiness is way greater than a promise neither of you wanted to keep anymore.”

You found refuge in his hair, sniffing it gently before letting your eyelids lower. “I’m afraid I’ll break future promises, too. Sometimes I ask myself how I could keep one.” You felt incredibly calm as he started delivering gentle pecks from your temple to your ear to your jaw, the sound of his lips disclosing in quiet pops slipping into silence as he lost the excuse of kisses and started simply skimming your skin with the smooth petals of his mouth.

“You will not be alone keeping it.” He drew a line with his nose, from your cupid’s bow to the middle of your forehead, where he placed one final kiss. “It’s a shared responsibility. You won’t need to go all the way. The right one will meet you halfway, and they will be willing to go a bit farther on the days you can’t reach, just like you’ll be willing to take a few more steps on the days they’re not feeling good. It’s a compromise, and the border moves and melts.” He hummed as you kneaded the base of his thumb between your own thumb and index. “At least that’s the way I like to imagine it.”

You would meet him halfway. And you would reach for him, on days like this, when you need him and he needs you. And you would walk a bit more when he’s tired and worried and afraid, just like you knew he would come for you.

“I think it really works for friends too,” Taehyung mused. He looked at you. He wanted to meet you halfway, and renovate that promise day after day after day. One day at the time, as long as you loved him. And then he would let you go, not without trying to fix the distance between the two of you. “Sometimes the difference between lovers and friends confuses me.”

You looked at him and blinked. “Well, I would never do anything sexual with a friend. I would with a lover, though.”

He nodded and hummed as he reflected. “So I should call you my lover?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “Sure, if you’d like to.”

“I’d love to.”

You smiled, a tiny chuckle parting from your lips.

“Once you said you don’t feel attracted to just anyone. What is it that makes you feel attracted to me?” Taehyung asked, genuinely curious.

You gave a small laugh. “You know all about me meeting my husband when I was a kid, growing up together, being with him, only him until we divorced and then some.”

He nodded.

“I think that made me used to being extremely close to my partner before being capable of perceiving any type of attraction. And even when I was with him, I didn’t ever think about anyone else. All people were just—” you thought about the right word. “They were only human beings to me. I couldn’t see them as somebody I could be attracted to, especially since I never got to know anyone as much as I know Terry and him. I think you’re the first one I want to explore.” You let go of his hand.

“Thank you,” he murmured before letting his back fall against the pillows, laying down and dragging you with him so you were resting on your side, your legs tangled up with his before you found your spot flushed against his side, his chest pillowing your head and your leg thrown over his hip. He wanted to comb your hair but he didn’t want to mess it up with the balm, so he decided he could simply draw circles against your arm. “What do you mean with ‘exploring’?”

You yawned as you felt relaxation wash over you. “I mean I want to take my time to get to know you. I’ve read somewhere that people who only feel attraction for those they have an emotional bond with are called demisexual. And somehow I feel I could identify myself with that, but I think I still have too many open questions to feel like I fully belong to that category.”

Taehyung felt blessed he could listen to your thoughts out loud. They felt so precious to him, like they could give him a way to understand you better. And the more he understood you, the deeper he fell for you. “You’re still so young, you have all the time in the world. Maybe you could talk to a therapist, or find some support through online forums. You know you have my full support.”

You softened and furtherly cosied up in his arms. “Thank you so much, Tae.”

“It’s the least I can do.” You felt his voice sweeten with joy and gratitude. “We take care of each other.”

He had become your solace, your reprieve, your second chance at happiness. Hopefully, your definitive one too.

You calmed down, trying not to rush things through, reminding yourself this had been the strongest, most unreasonable form of enamourment you could have ever thought of; nevertheless, you couldn’t deny the sudden lightness and warmth and fondness that invaded you whenever he peeked into your thoughts or appeared in your sight.

“However, yes, I feel attracted to you because I’m emotionally attached to you. I don’t know what this will become, or if it will evolve into deeper feelings, but it feels good to be your friend. And to be your lover too,” you continued delicately, trying to play it cool. “I just don’t know how long this sense of attraction will last — you know, because of this being an actual first time and me being afraid of making promises and not keeping them. For now I only know I want to know you deeper. And I want to be your lover.”

Fear crawled into his veins but he let the present reassurance comfort him. “It’s okay. It’s not like I’m experienced. We’ll just let ourselves feel whatever comes our way. The only promise I need you to give me is that you’ll allow yourself to feel everything life will give you, without being afraid.”

You stretched to press a kiss to his lips. “Okay. Can I count on you to meet me halfway?”

He nodded. “As a friend, as a lover, as anything you allow me to be.”

You kissed him again, your body relaxing even more. You couldn’t hold back another yawn.

“Let’s get you to bed. I don’t want you to fall asleep on the couch.” He traced your profile with the tip of his pinky. “Come on.”

As you laid in bed, your legs tangled together, you caressed his hair, watching his eyelashes fan against his cheekbones.

“I hate that my hands hurt. I wish I could touch you more.” He turned to fit his back against your front, your hand meeting his chest and feeling his calm heartbeat.

“Did you really shape that sculpture after me?”

You noticed him nodding. “I could still feel you under my fingers. It was torture to lay in this bed without you.”

You kissed his nape. “Good thing I’m here now.”

“You make it so much better, darling.” His voice was reaching that depth that fit night-time pillow talk so perfectly.

You thought about how your life had changed since he came into it. “You make it better too, Tae.”

Taglist is open

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x y/n #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet

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tsukki-rising · 3 years

Text

~wrapped up in you~

pairing: tsukishima x reader fluff

word count: 2,160

summary: one day tsukki follows you on spotify and starts to listen to the same music you do and might get a little obsessed with listening along with you

a/n: jngbrnfj this is my first work, pls be nice and i hope you enjoy

- ok ok so you're kind of friends with yams and tsukkishima and you walk home together a lot - there isn't much conversation for the most part with tsukki listening to his music and yams being a drained lil introvert at the end of long school days and volleyball practice, but you don't mind the quiet walk and actually listen to your own music too - now tsukki, who has been expertly hiding his feelings for you, being the beanpole that he is can see right over your shoulder and look at what you're listening to and after seeing the name and cover of one of your spotify playlists, he finds your account using that - this simp oh my god he follows you and you can't tell it's him because he doesn't use his real name and you're just like "whatever" - now his favorite thing to do at any given time is to check out what you're listening to and listen along with you - now sometimes you do try to initiate a conversation with tsukki even though he is pretty scary, yes even though you're friends with the boy you still get nervous and flustered around the guy cause he's just that pretty scary looking - one day you ask him what he's listening to,,, - he can't say that he listens to what you listen to because it's pretty far from his personal taste (though the lines are blurring between yours and his tastes at this point) - but he still wants to say something that he knows you'd like so he opts to say that he's listening to the soundtrack of one of your favorite movies and acts surprised when you tell him you love the movie and proceed to have a whole conversation about it with him - he is absolutely melting inside with you being so excited to talk about it and rambling about your favorite scenes and songs on the track - but on the outside, he's still big bad tsukki so he just nods along and acts mildly disinterested - sometimes he'll just be studying and hit a roadblock or get bored so he goes to spotify and checks what you're listening to so he can listen to it too and it's like you're listening together - oh my god like that one soulmate au - anyways,,, December rolls around and all of a sudden everyone is talking about their spotify wrapped - tsukki is slightly embarrassed - your music is ruling over his top songs and top artists - the whole time he's tapping through it he feels kinda pathetic for liking you this much and still having not done a single thing about it but also makes him so soft when he's reminded of each cute song and just imagining listening to them with you - he treasures his wrapped and relistens to all the same songs you do as you get your wrapped playlist too - but then... - but then he walks into practice the next day and everyone is talking about their wrapped playlists, showing off their top songs they start to compare and compete to see who has the best wrapped - tanaka, suga, noya, hinata, kageyama, and yams are the ones that get the most excited over the little competition and they are determined to get to the bottom of whose wrapped is the best - you're there at the practice with yachi to help plan new designs for some posters, the team included you both in the competition but since your taste was so different they ruled your wrapped out for the sake of time - tsukki is so nervous - he doesn't want to walk right over to you because he's still keeping his feelings hidden but if he goes to the team they might try to pull him into their shenanigans and he can't have them knowing that he listens to the exact same music you do - he's just kind of standing there uncertain until noya sees him and yells "hey!! tsukkishima, you're always listening to music when we try to talk you into extra practice you better have good a taste, get over here and show us your wrapped" - normally tsukki would have a quick response, tell them that their game is a stupid waste of time but he's been caught off guard - the poor boy actually stutters for a second, eyes darting around the gym like he'll find an excuse - after a moment he finds his composure and sighs, looking to noya and just saying "no" - Suga pauses his argument with hinata to look to tsukki "come on, team bonding" though clearly he has the same motivation as everyone else in the completion, to win and assert superiority over the others - tsukki begins to decline once more before tanaka interrupts "no, no suga let him keep it to himself, his taste is probably too elevated for our inferior brains anyway" he says sarcastically - but as tsukki rolls his eyes and sighs, relieved that he's off the hook, tanaka turns to the rest of the group and gives a wink -"but since you're not busy tsukki could you get the balls for us?" tanaka adds - typically tsukki would put up the biggest fuss before he would do any work that he doesn't have to but today he's happy for the escape to the storage closet - as tsukki starts walking, tanaka turns to the competing group and gets close to yamaguchi so he can whisper "yamaguchi, whats his spotify wrapped look like?" - yams, the shy boy he is panics at the intensity of tanaka's question putting all the focus on him "wh-what?" - tanaka is determined to find his answer so he presses "come one, you're his best friend you have to know" - "oh, oh yeah," yamaguchi realises he could check tsukki's spotify account since he follows him - when yams pulls up the playlist he has to take a second to double and triple check that he's got the right playlist because he swaers this is the same one you showed to everyone just minutes ago - tanaka gets impatient and moves behind yamaguchi to get a good view at what he seems to be so confused about but finds himself just as confused - soon the whole group looks to check out the results but they just don't know how to react and kinda just sit there sharing looks of confusion - except for hinata - hinata is just like 'oh my god that's such a cool coincidence!' and as he sees tsukki returning from the storage room he brings it up without a second thought - "tsukkishima you and Ivy have the exact same taste in music that's so cool!"... - tsukki's heart stops - you definitely heard that - everyone in the gym definitely heard that - its times like these when tsukki's aloof mask comes in handy and with everyone looking at him, he deadpans "good music is good music", shrugs, and moves on - now you, you are confused, you weren't really listening to the boys before hinata's little outburst so you didn't understand what they were talking about and continued you conversation with yachi, making a mental note to ask tsukki about it when you walked home together because he seemed pretty bothered and always loved to complain about his loud teammates - and so, practice moves on as /mostly usual/ - aside from the perplexed looks at tsukkishima of course but he just cuts them off with a glare of his own - at the end of practice as you wait for your two friends outside the gym you listen to your playlist and think back to the times you remember listening to each one on repeat and thinking about a certain #11 - yams exits the gym first (tsukki taking a minute to find some composure to walk next to you the whole way home) - you decide to ask yams about the incident at the beginning of practice since he was right in the middle of it - "yamaguchi, did your little group ever decide who had the best wrapped?" you ask to prompt him to talk about it - he suddenly gets nervous, but you don't think much of it, tadashi's always nervous - he just tells you that they couldn't come to a conclusion and you don't press him any further, seeing his discomfort. so the two of you just wait for tsukkishima - before the tall boy can join you though, Yamaguchi joins the group of boys just leaving the gym to hang out at the coach's store. its weird, yams never ditches you - when the middle blocker does come out he talks even less than usual. normally he'd at least say hi and entertain some kind of small conversation before pulling his headphones over his ears but today he's already got them on and gives you a nod in greeting - with this you're kind of sad, you just love talking to your boys on the walk home after a long day, you decide just to tune in to your own music for the way home since clearly, no one wants to talk to you - and tsukki notices, of course tsukki notices - he sees what playlist you tune into and slyly pulls it up on his own phone so he can listen along - he definitely listens to a lot more sappy love songs than he used to, he definitely wouldn't listen along if he wasn't picturing you every time - he's never been so close to you though while listening along and it makes him feel like such a lovesick puppy - as one love song fades into another he can't stand the distance between you. walking right next to each other but still an arms-length too far apart - he begins to softly hum along with the new song playing, looking up at the sunset clouds with his hands in his pockets - you start to hear a tone in the song you've never noticed before in all the times you've listened to it - you take your earbud out of your ear and look at tsukki and find him humming, looking at the clouds like he's lost in the song like he's dreaming - he looks so calm, so gentle - you begin to hum along - he notices but he's too nervous to look back at you, still clinging to his composure. he knows that if he looked into your eyes now, there's no way he could hold back all the love he has for you from coming out of his mouth in an awkward confession - so he keeps humming along, looking at the clouds - you keep humming too, looking at him - but you reach your hand out to take his out of his pocket - he still doesn't look but he lets you lock your fingers around his and stroke his thumb with yours - as the last lines of the song come, you sing them out loud, wanting to convey how you feel - wanting to let him know that every time you listened to this song, he was the one you thought of - he finally looks at you once the song is over and on instinct you assume he'll be annoyed and ready an apology and excuse in your mind - but when you see his face, his eyes are wet with growing tears - you stop your walking and put your hand that isn't holding his on his face, your brows contort with your face into a worried expression. you squeeze his hand as you realise you'd do anything to see that calm expression again that he was wearing just a minute ago - "tsukki- tsukki whats wrong" - upon seeing you focussed on him, being so close, the feel of your hands. he can't hold it in anymore - he gently chokes out something between a laugh and a sob with a slowly growing smile - he puts his free hand over yours that is holding his face and finally confesses "i just love you. i just love you so much" - the next moment he wishes he could have captured your face on camera as it morphs from concern to match his, smiling and teary eyed - though it would be a disservice to you to compare your smile to his - it takes you a moment to find the words but you tell him "i love you too" - the words don't feel like enough, you love him, you've loved him for so long and its crashing over your heart like a wave now. every time he insulted your intelligence but still helped you study as soon as you asked, everytime he remembered all the little details like your favorite things to get from the sakanoshita store - and now looking at him there was such tension, both of you had so much to say but no words - so you kissed him under the golden sky and hoped that it would make up for the words lost in the haze of love over your mind - and he kissed back, hoping to make up for all the words he should've said sooner

#tsukkishima x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukki x you #tsuki fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

Text

YYH Recaps: Koenma Appears

Welcome to episode two, everyone! Before we get to the recap proper, I want to continue down Nostalgia Lane for a moment. Remember how last time I mentioned a Hiei bookmark I used daily back in middle school? Well, I tore through an old "treasure box" I created as a kid (a collection containing everything from a shark tooth to a small book on witchcraft. You know, the important things every child needs) hoping to find it... but I didn't. It's a hard life we lead.

However, I did find some other YYH relics that I thought you all might enjoy seeing. Behold — and, if you'd like, laugh at — my collection:

First up is a picture of young Toguro and Genkai that I wanted to use as my bookmark, but found that it was too wide. For the record, I didn't (and still don't) care about Toguro much, he was just the byproduct of finding a cool Genkai picture. Not shown is the back of the image with the names of my classmates because I made them all sign this along with our yearbook.

God bless my friends for putting up with me.

Second is a collection of very pretty trading cards that I ordered from god only knows where. I have vague memories of not finding any at my local comics shop and convincing my mom to let me order on The Olde Internet. Did I want the trading cards to trade them? Absolutely not. They exist to sparkle and make my heart happy.

Finally, I've saved what is perhaps the best for last. Now, you have to understand that grade to middle school age Clyde did not have the education that she would receive later on, which includes a knowledge of the ephemeral nature of fanworks and the importance of accurate record keeping. What this means is that I have absolutely no context for this. No author, no explanation... just the image itself.

Was this a standalone fanart? A part of a fic? Some specific request or just the will of the artist? I cannot answer these questions. I tried a reverse image search (which is, admittedly, the extent of my tech skills) and you know what the single hit I got was? "Fiction." Thanks, google. So yeah, I can only assume that my child self considered Kurama giving a de-aged Hiei a bubble bath adorable enough to save, but the artist wasn't important enough to jot down for future viewing. Sorry about that, mystery artist. And, as should go without saying, if anyone does know where this came from please let me know! Though I suspect that this is a case of a YYH-specific site closing down and the fanworks getting lost along with it. That happened a great deal before the age of AO3 when volunteers decided to put their time and talent towards saving fanworks of all sorts...

But enough of all that. Let's get to recapping!

As we established last episode, Yusuke and Botan are on their way to the spirit world to kickstart Yusuke's ordeal. Watching this after over a decade of consuming other media, I really appreciate that Yusuke acts like a human person and asks lots of questions about this. When Botan is cryptic for the sake of the audience — we're going to see "the person" who can explain everything — Yusuke is justifiably like, and what person would that be?? I mean, this is also a way to establish basic facts for the viewer and it simultaneously feeds into Yusuke being someone who is difficult for the sake of being difficult — "If someone wants to say something, they should come to me!" — but it's just nice to see a character who doesn't accept cryptic BS because the story needs them to. If Botan gives an unclear, but ~dramatic~ explanation, Yusuke is going to call her out on that.

So she explains that they're going to see King Yama and Yusuke is all whoa whoa whoa, there's royalty involved? Suddenly, he's not so adamant that they come to him.

Botan tries to reinforce this rare spark of humility and demands that Yusuke be on his best behavior from here on out.

Pff. Yeah right.

But “he can send you to oblivion forever if he wants to!” is a suitable enough threat to cow Yusuke for now. Which is interesting considering that a few hours ago he was happy to accept hell as his rightful ending. Granted, we could argue that there's a big difference between hell and oblivion — a character may not be afraid of punishment in the same way they are a lack of existence — but I'd say this ties more into Yusuke's development at the wake. Now that he's accepted that people care for him and that he should strive to return to them, the threat of having it snatched away actually means something. Even if that line is otherwise positioned as a comedic moment.

Botan flies them through a portal where we see the River Styx below and Yusuke comments on how big everything is. At first I was like, "What are you talking about? You were just flying over some major city in fictional Japan, wasn't that big too?" but this line makes more sense when they reach the palace and you realize that yeah, it's big. As in, the camera blurs while tilting down its length to show how insanely tall it is. Yusuke and Botan are tiny gnats at the gate's entrance.

"Oh man, what a pad!" Yusuke says and sure, that's one way to look at it lol.

Botan announces that she has a "new arrival" and the gates open for them, but so far there's no one else around. One part of me wants to question the time and budget put into this scene because shouldn't there be, like, thousands of people? Even just waiting outside? The idea that this is the hub of the underworld and that Botan is responsible for ferrying all the souls, yet she is guiding just this one (1) dude for a solid day is, from a world building perspective, kind of nuts. But beyond the need to develop Botan as a character (she can't be a part of the story if her job is treated realistically, with all the endless work that entails), I think this choice functions rather well from an atmospheric perspective too. Meaning, this moment is supposed to be rather tense for Yusuke. He just died, just found out the afterlife exists, just discovered a desire to get his life back, and is now about to meet a King who can toss him into oblivion if he's rude — which Yusuke always is. So this is a Very Dangerous Moment and their relative isolation feeds into that. As does the setting. Yusuke flinches back from the hallway, saying that it looks like a giant throat, so he is now literally walking into the belly of the beast.

Suddenly, the size of the palace isn't an indicator of awesome wealth, just general intimidation. Also, check out the spikey purple mountains in the background and the harsh reds of the scene, especially compared to the soft yellow of the river. All of it is designed to create an, "Oh shit" reaction in both Yusuke and the audience.

Yusuke's image of King Yama matches these surroundings:

Oh wait! Wrong character ;)

He's massive, red, shadowed, and poses a formidable threat. And how does Yusuke deal with threats? By fighting them! Even those he can't hope to beat. Remember, this isn't a situation where Yusuke has any power here, but he still desperately holds onto the possibility that he might. What if he gets off a punch on King Yama's nose? Then goes for his eyes? Yeah, that'll work!

Overlooking the fact that it absolutely would not — Yusuke's fantasy conveniently skips how he escapes Yama's clutches — what exactly is Yusuke hoping to accomplish here? Somehow take over the entire underworld? Escape as a ghost and live out his afterlife in hiding? We don't know and that's because Yusuke doesn't know. He doesn't think ahead, he just obeys this instinct to fight. An instinct that, crucially, overrides everything else. Botan has already told him that all Yusuke needs to do is be polite and everything will be fine, but it's not even that Yusuke believes that he can't achieve that; that he knows himself too well and, fearing a slip, starts planning for a potentially inevitable confrontation. There are simply no plans outside of battle plans. Yusuke just hears about someone vaguely intimidating and his brain jumps straight to, "How do I beat him in a fight?" no matter the odds, or that other options are readily available to him. Again, much of YYH's characterization occurs though its comedy, so outside of the general humor of witnessing this fantasy, it actually does a stellar job of reinforcing precisely who Yusuke is. In life the only thing he had going for him was his ability to fight. It was his one joy, his one skill, arguably the one good thing he did if we frame those reflexes as "saving" the kid... so is it any wonder that fighting dominates his every thought? It's all he knows.

And, as we'll see down the line, that single-minded obsession is very useful to the spirit world.

For now though, Yusuke finishes his absurd plans to take down King Yama and Botan asks what in the world he's muttering about back there. Which is an unintentionally hilarious line because by the end Yusuke is not muttering, but full on shouting. Botan. How did you not hear him?

Not important. They reach the next door and we get our first inkling that all is not as Yusuke (and we) expect when Botan leans into an intercom to say that they've arrived. Tech in a fantasy spirit world? This feels not only out of place, but rather... mundane? That's the point. When the doors open Yusuke expects his super scary monster, but gets... a whole lot of monsters that aren't scary at all!

The underworld is run by various demons (or ogres), though their looks are contrasted with the harried office worker personalities they've got going on. Someone is running by with a comically tall stack of papers. Someone else is shouting into a cell phone. The first two demons we see cross paths, looking like they're about to punch one another, just as Yusuke expects... except they're just dramatically getting out of the other's way, worried not about the hierarchy of this realm, but the fact that someone is behind schedule. The nerve!

"This place is a madhouse!" we hear somehow shout and yeah, that's the joke. The afterlife is just as chaotic, overworked, and — ultimately — boring as any human office. For all the strangeness of seeing hundreds of demons, this is familiar.

Which, alongside Botan's bubbly nature contrasting assumptions about the Grim Reaper, is one of the first instances of YYH undercutting the viewer's expectations in terms of looks. No one entirely looks the part they play in this tale and if you're trying to teach people to look past surface characteristics... there are worse ways to do it. Horrifying creatures with horns and sharp teeth? Nah, they're just chill dudes trying to do their job. Cutesy girl who looks like she belongs in a mall reading magazines? Nah, she's the Grim Reaper. Terrifying delinquent with a spine-chilling reputation? Nah, he makes faces at kids and saves them from cars.

Of course, the "nah" isn't accurate either. These are monsters with horns, Botan is a cutesy girl, and Yusuke is a delinquent with that reputation. The message isn't so much that people look like Thing A, but get to know them and you'll discover they're actually Thing B, it's the idea that you can be A and B (and C, D, E...) simultaneously. People — or rather, seemingly simple archetypes — can, in fact, embody multiple characteristics at once.

We'll get our third example in just a second.

Yusuke makes a comment about this being the "dead people stock exchange" — accurate — and Botan leads him to a more ornate door past all the desks. It's clear they've arrived at King Yama's office, since she's bowing and formally presenting him to... someone. Yusuke looks around for the giant beast he's imagined, only for a tiny voice to hail him from the ground.

Looks are deceiving!

“This is Yusuke Urameshi and he’s honored to meet you." Botan knows what's up. She knows Yusuke isn't going to express anything of the sort without some prompting. Too bad he's busy cracking up at this apparent child running the show. Side note: Yusuke has a fantastic laugh.

He even goes so far as to accuse Botan of lying to him.

“Why would I lie about such a thing?!”

“Why would the spirit world be run by a toddler?”

It's true! That’s a legitimate question! I love that Yusuke asks questions. The "toddler" goes on to explain that he's actually the "mighty Koenma," son of King Yama, though he's lived fifty times as long as Yusuke, "so watch your mouth." Assuming Koenma knows and/or remembers how old Yusuke is — fourteen — and is good at math, that puts him at seven hundred years old. He looks good for his age!

"And in addition to knowing the secrets of the universe," he says, "I am quite potty trained."

You've gotta love Koenma.

Yusuke's attitude changes drastically once they get down to business. Koenma produces an egg, saying that Yusuke's ordeal is to hatch it and face what comes out. The hatching part isn't difficult, all he needs to do is keep it on his person. The challenge is in the fact that this egg will feed off his spirit energy and that energy in turn will change what kind of creature develops. If his spirit is wicked and cruel, so will be the beast and it will devour Yusuke upon hatching.

However, if his spirit is good and kind, the beast will become a sort of guardian, guiding him back to his living body.

Note though that throughout this conversation the egg is always a "beast." It's a "monster." It's not necessarily intentional, but there's a strong bend towards the negative here in the description that really emphasizes the whole "ordeal" aspect. Koenma briefly reassures Yusuke that he can remain a ghost if he prefers, but he's already made up his mind. Despite another threat of being lost to a void — this time through spiritual digestion — Yusuke takes the egg almost without hesitation.

He regrets it later though.

"I can't believe I did that."

Can we blame him? I'd be nervous about some egg feeding off the energy of my soul too and I'm a former, almost straight A student (damn you, math) with no life-altering regrets and a general desire to put as much good into this world as I'm able. I’m boring. But what if those occasional, mean little thoughts you have add up? What if the prejudices you're still unlearning stack against you? Does the egg care about what you do, or only how you feel about the act? This sort of test would eat me alive!

Maybe literally.

Good thing Yusuke doesn't have time for an existential crisis!

Just as he's beginning to regret this decision, Botan points out that it won't matter if he passes if he doesn't have a body to return to. Now, why wouldn't he have a body? Maybe because his mom is set to cremate him tomorrow.

Whoopsie.

Yusuke is, understandably, distraught. We get another excellent exchange:

“Botan, is there any way for ghosts to communicate with living people?”

“Yes.”

“SO ARE YOU GONNA TELL ME?”

I swear, Yusuke is the only smart protagonist. I mean, he's dumb as a sack of bricks at times, but that's neither here nor there. Bless this fictional boy for reacting like an actual person.

Botan explains that people are more attuned to the spirit world when they're asleep, so Yusuke can deliver a message to someone in their dreams. Seems easy enough. They first head to Atsuko, but find that she's raging drunk and nowhere near sleep.

"You fool!" she yells. "No one gave you permission to die!" Atsuko continues to yell about how plenty of people survive car accidents, so why couldn't you? "Were you mad at me, Yusuke? Didn't I raise you right?"

Botan comments on how sad the display is. Yusuke's response?

“The only thing that’s sad is now she’s got one more excuse to act that way."

Y'all, that's some mature shit for a goofy shonen anime. Yeah, Yusuke recognizes that, while she's obviously heartbroken, his death has just given her another reason to do what she's been doing for years: drinking herself into a stupor. Toss in Atsuko putting the blame on Yusuke — "No one gave you permission to die!" — plus the belief that she did do a good job — "Didn't I raise you right?" — and it paints a rather bleak picture. This is by no means an uncommon theme. Negligent parents, whether they're framed that way or not, are pretty common in shonen series, but it's still rather jarring to re-watch this as an adult and go, "Oh. The situation’s like that." It's honestly a lot when you remove it from YYH's otherwise humorous, casual context.

Yusuke heads to Keiko's next and finds her sound asleep, commenting on how her room looks more "girly" than when they were kids. Check out that smile!

He's about to try and deliver his message, but Keiko is in the midst of a nightmare. “She’s crying… what’s wrong?”

Oh my god. Remember how I just said Yusuke is also the densest protagonist around? Example A right here. You just died, you fool! You just saw Keiko collapse at your funeral. What do you think is wrong??

We get a peek at Keiko's dream where she is — shockingly! — thinking of Yusuke. He's far out of reach, walking away and unresponsive to her calls. Keiko soon trips and Yusuke disappears completely.

Luckily, she has the real thing at her bedside. Yusuke tries talking to her and at first it's unclear if this supernatural stuff is really working. That is, until Keiko murmurs about how heavy he is.

Reassured, Yusuke delivers his message that Keiko needs to help Atsuko pull herself together and, most importantly, call off burning his body. We get this very soft and pretty background to establish their yet unspoken feelings for one another, though Yusuke gets close with, “I’m coming back. I don’t want to see you cry anymore" as he brushes her tears away. Aww.

Keiko wakes, thinking at first it was just a dream, but no, "I'm sure I felt it."

The next morning she heads to Atsuko's to explain the dream, only to first hear that Atsuko had a dream too, this one about Yusuke "living in some other world full of ogres and he kept knocking them down until he became their leader." It sounds absurd, of course, but it brings Atsuko some comfort to think of her boy in a place like that and Keiko backs down. Right, she'd only had a comforting dream too.

Now, there are two important parts to this exchange. The first is that this is an excellent example of how you let the characters drive the story, rather than forcing the characters adhere to the plot you've come up with. Meaning, in the latter situation, our cast would have needed to have their personalities twisted and the viewer's suspicion of disbelief tested to give Yusuke what he needs: a sleeping family member willing to believe his message. But it absolutely makes sense for Atsuko to be drunk rather than sound asleep, so Yusuke can't rely on her. Likewise, it absolutely makes sense for Keiko to be asleep, but not believe the dream once she's woken up. After all, how many times have we been persuaded by something in the dead of night only for things to look more logical and less likely in the morning? The characters act both like themselves and like people who do normal, people-ish things, which means that Yusuke runs into more conflicts. That's good! It not only raises the tension and stakes — now he has less than a day to convince someone — but makes his inevitable success feel that much sweeter. A less well written show (cough-RWBY-cough) would have had the characters change their personalities, behave in unlikely ways, or just come up with a sudden, contradictory solution because Yusuke needs to keep his body. Instead, Yusuke actually has to work for that within the bounds of the rules established and the likeliness of each plan succeeding. The first one fails? Move onto plan #2.

Second, this dream of Atsuko's has some cool implications within YYH's world. Meaning, we're about to learn in just a moment that some people are naturally more aware of the supernatural than others, even when they're not asleep. We'll also see down the line that spiritual awareness tends to run in families... so perhaps Atsuko possesses more than the average mother? I'm not saying it's necessarily intentional on the author(s) part, but we can choose to read this dream as evidence of spiritual awareness — true insight into the world Yusuke was just in and the fantasies he'd had about conquering it — rather than just a coincidental joke for the viewer. After all, Yusuke gets his own spiritual awareness from somewhere...

(Okay, so there's totally another, canonical reason for that, but we can have both!)

So, as Yusuke puts it, “This dream business isn’t gonna cut it.”

“There’s always the final method," Botan says.

“You always this vague?”

I am literally living for these interactions.

Botan explains that the more extreme form of communication is possessing a living person, but there are two rules attached: it has to be someone you know and the vessel has to be someone who is quite spiritually aware, as discussed above. Atsuko isn't a contender because the story hasn't acknowledged that she might be sensitive, that's just my own headcanon now. Yusuke outright says, “In that case I’m screwed. There’s no one like that!"

Cut to good old Kuwabara.

At first it looks as if he's just oh so conveniently sensing a spirit right when the audience has learned he has this power, but in reality it's Yusuke and Botan flying behind him that sets it off. Again: this show is pretty good about keeping things internally consistent, rather than making choices because That's Just How Stories Work, I Guess. Kuwabara's friends note that he's acting strangely and I love this detail that apparently one of the guys is new to their group because the other two need to explain that this is the "tickle feeling." Ever since Kuwabara was a boy he's been able to sense the dead around him. Some nice, some... not so nice.

He looks directly at Yusuke — even though he's not able to see him — and declares that what's following them is “A puny low-level ghost, like a haunted racoon or something.”

I'd support Yusuke's anger more if he hadn't just exclaimed his surprise that Kuwabara serves a purpose 😂

Yusuke is pissed enough though to proclaim that he won't do it, nuh-uh, no way is he possessing this guy's body. Botan's response is one of my FAVORITES in the WHOLE SERIES:

"Here's my impression of Yusuke: look at me, I’m burning!”

Literally 75% of this series is just about a found family sassing one another and I love it.

Obviously this helps Yusuke remember his priorities and he grudgingly agrees to the plan. Botan prepares Kuwabara's body somehow — idk, spiritual magic or whatever — and warns Yusuke that he only has an hour to find someone and warn them because a human body can't handle possession any longer than that. Sure. I buy it.

So Yusuke takes control and please ignore the incredible ethical issues here. The show will never acknowledge them again.

He blurts out, “Hey, check it out! I’m inside Kuwabara, feeling smooth!"

Istg I don't remember the series being this unintentionally gay. I don't even ship Yusuke/Kuwabara and I'm digging the possibilities here lol.

Back on track, his friends drag him with, “Looks like he’s back to normal” because again, 75%. What's not normal though is Kuwabara (Yusuke) suddenly charging down the street to leave them behind. He heads straight to the restaurant where Keiko's parents work, demanding to see her. They're rightly concerned about this stranger barging in and screaming for their daughter.

Upon asking who he is/why they should tell him, Yusuke makes his biggest mistake: “Because it’s me, you guys, I’m Yusuke!”

Obviously the time limit and raw emotion of knowing who he is has outweighed the knowledge that, you know, no one would believe that. Yusuke has spent the last two days bopping around as a ghost and familiarizing himself with some of the afterlife's insanity. The knowledge of what's normal for everyone else — AKA, not dead boys appearing in strangers' bodies — is not at the forefront of Yusuke's mind.

So, Keiko's parents react accordingly! The father in particular is disgusted by this claim, going so far as to threaten Yusuke with his knife and outright insult Kuwabara's looks: “Yusuke was never ugly like you… we were close family friends with that boy!" His wife chimes in that this kind of joke is particularly heinous on the day of his funeral. Between Atsuko drunkenly blaming Yusuke for his death and Mr. Takenaka grieving for what he might have been, this is one of the few times we see someone just sad for Yusuke's passing, exactly as he was and without regrets or criticism. "We were close family friends with that boy" paints a nice contrast to the delinquent persona Yusuke was cultivating.

As he's thrown out of the restaurant he says, “We should have special passwords for times like this!” Fun fact, my family does! Well, not this exact situation lol. I was given a password as a child to memorize in case my parents ever needed to send someone else to pick me up or interact with me in any way. If the stranger didn't know the password, I was to kick up a fuss. I rest easy with the knowledge that this password would not doubt assist me if I was ever in Yusuke's position!

With Keiko's parents a bust, Yusuke starts sprinting to everywhere she frequents with the hope of running into her. Or at least he tries.

Yusuke is suddenly waylaid by a group of nameless teens with a bone to pick with Kuwabara. And you know what? I like it. I wonder how much of my praise stems from coming off of RWBY Volume 8, but it's just so nice to watch a story where the plot — simple as it is — hangs together. We've established that Kuwabara is a street fighter. Last episode we watched him start a fight with Yusuke. Yusuke is on a time limit. Now Kuwabara's tendencies have created a new hurdle for Yusuke!

Needless to say, Yusuke kicks butt, even in Kuwabara’s body.

As one guy is passing out he says, “Man that hurt! I didn’t think anyone could throw punches that hardcore except Yusuke Urameshi."

Yusuke: “Darn, giving Kuwabara a good name." LOL

You think this challenge is finished though? Nah. Over the course of about half an hour Yusuke encounters a comical number of people trying to get even with Kuwabara.

As always, I like the nods towards this writing decision to help justify it, with Yusuke wondering how Kuwabara has pissed this many people off. If you want to pull off something that has a low chance of happening, it can help to give the characters a "Seriously?" moment. If both they and the audience are on the same page over how ridiculous this situation is, the audience is more likely to accept it once the character does.

By the time Yusuke escapes his hour is nearly up. However, thanks to some coincidental plotting, he spots Keiko's friends just across the street!

YYH does a decent job of making its characters feel like they have their own lives outside of what's immediately happening on screen and we get a good example of that here. We pick up the girls' conversation partway through, both of them worried about Keiko's state of mind and, given that we'll see in a second that Keiko was in the store with them, it implies that something happened to reignite this worry. They're off enjoying their day, doing their own thing, there was an event we're not privy to, and now we catch the response to that. It just helps make the characters feel more well-rounded even though they are, at their core, one-dimensional background characters who don’t even have names yet.

Case in point: the one girl is still concerned with their image. "People are starting to say things!"

Yeah, your friend's childhood friend just died. Hopefully they're saying, "Poor thing."

Anyway, Yusuke runs up to ask where Keiko is only for both girls to run away screaming. Turns out his face is messed up from the numerous fights and Keiko's friends are easily scared.

Luckily, Keiko comes out just a second later and Yusuke is faced with the challenge of how to convince her in, oh, about five minutes. Remember, we've already established through Keiko's parents that just saying, "I'm Yusuke" doesn't work. That's why he hesitates. It's not just drama for the sake of drama, he's stuck.

“I’ve known her my whole life, there must be something between us that only I would do!”

Yeeeeaah. About that 😬

Suddenly inspired (I suppose that's one way to put it...) Yusuke runs up behind Keiko and grabs her breasts. “Keiko, nice uniform! They’re so squishy!”

It goes without saying that, like flipping her skirt up, this isn't okay. More specifically, the problem lies in the story framing this as a joke for the audience, something to laugh at despite Keiko's discomfort, rather than the concept of two childhood friends actually be that comfortable with one another. But, as already established, this is one of the more ehhhh aspects of Yusuke's characterization that, luckily, will mostly disappear as the story goes on.

Note though that the show clearly wants us to think highly of this. Not just as a "joke," but as a smart solution to his problem and more evidence of their inevitable relationship — the background becomes the same soft, bubbly background we saw during their dream conversation. And, admittedly, it does work. Keiko instinctively slaps Yusuke hard enough to knock him to the ground and he starts laughing, saying that he doesn't care what anyone on the street says, she hits the hardest.

What I do like about this is that the assault isn't the only thing Keiko bases her faith on. Not only has she already had the dream, we get to see Yusuke from her perspective, showing all the mannerisms she picks up on by superimposing Yusuke's real body over Kuwabara's. Indeed, she says as much: “I knew it was you from the first time you spoke…and it’s not just your stupid gags, or how you laugh. There are ways you move and speak that in a hundred years I wouldn’t forget."

Catch me crying in this club!

Knowing she believes him and that he's almost out of time, Yusuke reiterates his message: please don't burn my body and also keep Mom on track. Only, you know, it's phrased far better than that lol. As he speaks, both Yusuke's and Kuwabara's voices overlap until the latter grows fainter and only Yusuke's voice remains. His body too. It's a nice touch, avoiding the awkwardness of Keiko having this moment with a stranger, even if that is what's happening on some level.

“I know I’ve been a bum to you at times, but please wait for me."

His hour up, now we can get the awkwardness! Kuwabara comes out of his weird trance thing to find Keiko crying against his chest. Wow, he thinks, this girl must be really into me!

God, to have the confidence of Kuwabara.

Of course, Keiko quickly realizes it's not Yusuke anymore and slaps him too for cuddling her closer. My favorite thing is that when she does this a crowd INSTANTLY appears. I mean they TELEPORT in. We needed an audience for Kuwabara's shame and YYH delivered, all logic be damned.

“Um, sorry about that!” Keiko yells as she runs away, because she's a good person who recognizes that weird spirit things just went on and Kuwabara isn't actually to blame.

“No, that’s okay. I probably deserved it," Kuwabara responds because he's also a good person and I didn't appreciate him nearly as much as I should have as a kid.

Keiko runs all the way to Atsuko's place where she finds her dressed for Yusuke's funeral. She blurts that Yusuke might still be coming back and Atsuko goes, "He already has." Turns out she opened his coffin to "smack him one more time for leaving me" — yikes — and found that his heart had started beating again, just as Koenma said it would.

Being in a shonen anime, they apparently decide to just trust Keiko's message rather than, idk, taking him to a hospital or something.

The camera tilts up to show that Yusuke has been watching all this, including that both women break down again and comfort one another. Aww. How heartwarming.

What's less fuzzy though is this mysterious egg. Yusuke takes another look and finds that it has developed a heartbeat too, presumably in time with his body's. He theorizes that he did decent things today, right? But Botan (teasingly) points out that he did beat up a lot of other kids. Rather than getting angry, Yusuke remains uncharacteristically pensive, emphasizing the magnitude of what this means for him. He's got to get it right.

No pressure or anything! We'll have to see how Yusuke balances his karmic scales in the next episode. Until then, I'll try not to put all my TV time into Star Trek: Voyager :D

See you then! 💜

#YYH #Yu Yu Hakusho #YYH recaps #mymetas

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ezrastokes · 3 years

Photo

[ CODY CHRISTIAN, HE/HIM, CISMALE ] — [ EZRA STOKES ] is a child of [ HEPHAESTUS ] with the power of [ TECHNOKINESIS ] . they were born in [ 1995 ] and have been in nemean lion since [ 2010 ] . with the change, they [ HAVE GRADUATED FROM ] the [ TECHNOLOGY ] role which makes sense since they’re usually [ FIRING POTTERY IN THE KILN AND BREWING A THIRD CUP OF COFFEE ] . if you’d like to meet them try the [ MOON ] building . — kati / she & her / est / 18+

links: stats / pinterest .

background

most of ezra’s early years were spent not fitting in and for most of that time, he didn’t know why. he didn’t understand why his father seemed to hate him so much, why his younger brother, caleb, seemed to get all of the attention. ezra chalked it up to just not being quite good enough, maybe because he wasn’t into sports the way caleb was, coming home with paint on his shirt instead of grass stains.

for a while, ezra tried to fit in, went out for baseball to try and garner his father’s approval, but it was never really him. over time, he began to isolate himself instead, because it was easier to be on his own than face rejection and disapproval.

his mom was loving, but only behind closed doors. it always seemed like she was scared to show her affection for ezra in front of his father, like she felt GUILTY about loving him, about caring about him. she’d sneak into his room at night and read him stories or they’d spend all day together when his father was out of town. “ why does dad hate me so much ? ” he’d ask, and his mother would smile sadly and say, “ i’ll explain more when you’re older. ”

ezra started developing his powers when he was about twelve years old. his mother had hoped it would never happen. it started small, realizing he could do things like make the toaster pop up without touching it or turn on the television with what seemed to be sheer willpower. his parents started noticing this too. he overheard them talking about it one night, fighting. ezra didn’t know what it meant, but over time, he’d listen at the top of the stairwell as the arguments got more and more heated, resulting in broken glass. caleb would sit with him sometimes. “ what are they always fighting about lately ? ” ezra would ask. “ you, ” the dreaded answer, but he’d already known. he just needed to hear someone say it. “ it’s because you’re a freak. ”

anxious during a test at school, ezra set the printer going so hard that it started smoking and set the fire alarm off. to most people, it was nice to get out of the test, but ezra went home demanding answers. “ just tell me what i am, please ! ” rising frustration, appliances in the house whirring to life. ezra was getting more powerful, it was not just a PHASE that he could outgrow. his parents had to tell him the truth.

his mother sit down and told him about an AFFAIR she had once, with the god hephaestus. he had been able to forgive her for it, but his father had never been able to get over the living manifestation of her disloyalty, the obvious misfit in the family that stuck out and didn’t belong. every day, ezra seemed less and less like he could be his father’s son. everything seemed to click into place for ezra, but it didn’t make him feel any better to be the product of circumstances he couldn’t control ; things would have been easier if he’d been born normal like caleb.

his mother expressed concern for the way his powers were growing and that modern society might not be the place for him. she’d been told if such powers ever developed, that there was a place that he could go. so, at age fifteen he packed this things and began training at nemean lion.

ezra naturally assimilated into the technology track with his powers, it seemed to make the most sense for him. in terms of helping heroes, he is most comfortable beneath the hood of a car, developing advanced transportation technology and essentially providing heroes with the best possible support. he also built his own motorcycle and car from scratch, they’re named thelma and louise respectively, his pride and joys. ezra is a quiet person but get him talking about his hobbies / geeking out and you’ve hit the sweet spot.

recently graduated and working, though he feels like he’s in no position to mentor the newbies…he’ll try. he would’ve been happy to be a student forever, but due to nl’s new status, he felt the need to rush his graduation and work a little harder so that they’d have the tech help they need for the heroes on the field fighting monsters and such.

personality

PERSISTENT. essentially, when ezra sets his mind on something, he will accomplish it. in some ways, he can be pretty one-track minded when it comes to things, like he’ll start a task in the garage or at the kiln and he won’t speak to anyone for days until it’s done. balance ? he doesn’t know her. but achieving his goals ? yes, king. sometimes i think ezra believes that people are to be measured on accomplishments and his value only exists in terms of what he can do for others. however, you can definitely count on him to get a job done.

PRACTICAL. ezra is a pretty realistic person, not the type to get caught up in a daydream or set an unrealistic expectation for himself. granted, he knows he can accomplish a lot, but he would never expect more of himself than what is tangible. he’s definitely not a naive person and is more inclined to believe actions over words every time.

INDEPENDENT. ezra is the sort of person who has always felt like he’s had to fend for himself and is pretty mature. he’s good at taking care of himself and has never felt like he NEEDS other – not that anyone’s really need him. he’s very self-sufficient as a person basically and doesn’t rely on others to get things done. you’ll literally never feel like ezra’s a mooch, but he would let others mooch off him tbh.

PESSMISTIC. as a result of that practicality, he can come off as rather negative in conversation or in ideals. essentially, ezra can be a real downer to be around sometimes because he will always anticipate the worst case scenario ! he’ll tell you he’s just being prepared though.

SENSITIVE. although he comes off as tough or even unapproachable sometimes, this is actually because he’s EASILY hurt. he puts on a front like a badass but seriously he is a sensitive baby and if you say something that rubs him the wrong way he will legit never forget it. can literally hold a grudge for 8092390482 years like if you cross him slightly he will bring it up until you die.

headcanons

if he’s not working with vehicles, he’s making pottery. he has a wheel in his room and is really passionate about art and ceramics. so, when he’s not working, he’s probably firing something.

yes, he has an etsy store <3

has a little black cat named soot that is genuinely his best friend

has a natural affinity toward all things fire and smoke, developing the nasty habit of smoking cigarettes – american spirits, too, because he has no class. however, since he started dating his current girlfriend, he’s pretty much quit smoking to make her happy – and like, to be more kissable.

genuinely, his girlfriend cecilia baum ( y’all know her ? ) has been a super positive influence in his life because he used to drink, smoke, and isolate himself a lot more before getting to know her but honestly the act of developing a crush and trying to impress her all the time got him into better habits and her caring about him has made him care a bit about himself more too.

granted, it’s not JUST cece. making better friends and meeting people that care about him has been a positive influence on him overall

don’t ask me too much about cece, strud and i are mid-plotting but they are dating.

you’d probably think like mechanic, artist, he must be super messy? however, ezra is really meticulous and organized, i would say he’s always been really mature and independent. he has his shit together, but he’s also fueled by a ridiculous amount of coffee in order to do so.

though he does often smell like gasoline from working in the garage so much, though he personally loves that.

really likes thrifting? like browsing thrift stores for hours and finding weird shit or interesting art pieces. he’ll treat thrift stores like museums, could spend hours walking around, but he’ll also spend hours walking around museums.

wanted connections

best friends, bros, etc !! i’m looking for the people he really vibes with in a number of ways, his squad, his fam, the wholesome shit. the scott to his stiles, the schmidt to his nick, all of these things.

but i would especially love to have like his DAY ONE, i will simply go crazy go stupid for a best friend connection and i feel like that person who supported him from the start and made him feel less alone on his first days at NL prob means the fucking world to him.

like, someone he’s protective of? maybe a little sister type connection, essentially someone that’s probably softer and more naive and he feels like he has to look out for them and keep them safe and such.

someone to test out his vehicles and inventions. ezra is always tinkering away in the garage and he comes up with cool stuff for the heroes to use out when they’re saving the world, it would be nice if he had someone who was always down to literally come through in the middle of the night and be the elastigirl to his edna mode and all.

someone that he really clashes with. give me enemies for god’s sake, or anything, i feel like especially when he first arrived at NL he was a bit rough around the edges, hard to get to know. ezra definitely comes off as grumpy and standoffish around people he’s not super comfortable with and he’s pretty introverted, so they might have gotten a bad impression of him.

or honestly if you play a char that’s kind of ? stuck up ? full of themselves ? that would really rub him the wrong way. tho he’s probably just jealous bc he lacks that confidence like damn.

an almost? like a case of bad timing where they were hitting it off or maybe there could have been something between them but he started dating cece instead. maybe your character read into it more than it was and felt really hurt by it. OR he told them he didn’t want a relationship/do relationships and then started dating cece right quick like that’s gotta hurt.

someone who is good w money. help him manage the finances of his etsy store and how to run a business because he doesn’t even know how to properly price his own goods, probably undersells himself. gimme the business mind to his art mind.

drinking buddies! sitting around w a good glass of scotch talking about life after a hard day. ezra doesn’t drink so much but honestly their work is hard and ppl die so like, a lil something to take the edge off.

roommates? is that a thing here? he is in moon building.

naturally also down to vibe and plot anything, exes, family members, enemies, besties, all the things, this is just off the top of my head !!!

#nlintro #* ☕⠀ / ⠀ 𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ intro. ⠀ ❫#one down .. !

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jctro7 · 4 years

Text

If U were born on the 1st, 10th, 19th, 28th of any month U r number 1….

If U were born on the 2nd, 11th, 20th, 29th of any month then U r number 2…

If U were born on the 3rd, 12th, 21st, 30th of any month then U r number 3…

If U were born on the 4th, 13th, 22nd, 31st of any month then U r number 4…

If U were born on the 5th, 14th, 23rd of any month then U r number 5…

If U were born on the 6th, 15th, 24th of any month then U r number 6…

If U were born on the 7th, 16th, 25th of any month then U r number 7…

If U were born on the 8th,17th,26th of any month then U r number 8…

If U were born on the 9th,18th,27th of any month then U r number 9…

Number 1

You are smart, straight talking, funny, stubborn, hardworking, honest,Jealous on competing basis, kind hearted, angry, friendly, authorities, Famous person… always want to be and regarded as first on people position, they are often like to be independent, will never be under others, self confident people!

You are most likely to fall in love in the younger age, but will get marry when you mature! You are likely to have problems with people who have opposite views

And you are most likely to take revenge over your enemies in a long time basis. You are a spender, but you will have a good profession in the future.

If you are guy you will be very popular that everybody will have mental attraction and respect at you. You can go anywhere from the local shop to the heart of the parliament because you are positive and well talented in numerous issues!! But in your life you will always have some people who will work hard to bring you & your name down. This is undercover!! Coz of your smart behavior you will be hated by some people too…

Your family life is very cool, you will have a very nice partner & wonderful children… You are pioneer, independent & original…

Your best match is 4,6,8 good match is 3,5,7 !!!

note: if u dont reblog bad luck for 10 years it true please dont ignore

Number 2

No matter what, you will be loved by every one coz your ruler is the moon and every one loves the Moon. Well.. You are a person who day dream a lot, you have very low-self confidence, you need back up for every move in your life, you are very much unpredictable. Means you do change according to time and circumstances, kind a selfish, have a very strong sense of musical, artistic talent, verbal communication.

Your attitudes are like the Moon, comes to gloom and fade away so everybody can expect changes in you. You can be a next Mahatma Gandhi who does peace love or you can be a Hitler who wants to destroy the man kind and peace (I mean in the community and your own home).

If you really have a deep thought about your own believe in God you can feel the difference which will make you stronger! Most of the time your words are a kind of would be happening true! So without any knowledge you can predict the situation. You will become poets, writers, any Artistic business people!

You are not strong in love, so you will be there and here till you get marry.. If U r a girl you will be a responsible woman in the whole family. If U r a man you will involve in fights & arguments in the family or Vice-versa. Means you will sacrifice your life for the goodness sake of Your family…You are gentle , intuitive with a broad vision, a power behind the scenes, well balanced People!!!

Your best match is 2 ,5 ,9 no other people can put up with you !!!

note: if u dont reblog bad luck for 10 years it true please dont ignore

Number 3

You are a person of hard hearted, selfish most of the times, religious, loves to climb up in your life. You always tend to have lots of problems within your family in the early stages but you will put up with everything.. You have the strong word power, pretty happy face.. So wherever you go always you have got what you wanted!!! And from the birth always wanted to work hard in order to achieve something.. You will not get anything without hardwork! When you reach a man/ woman age you want other younger once to listen to you because you want younger people to respect people older than them. You do set so many examples to others.

Generally you are not a cool person. It’s not easy thing dealing with you. A tough player you are! But once you like someone’s attitude then here you go, what can I say? It will be a lasting friendship. You always have respect from others.

Your life seems to have lots of worries and problems but sure they won’t be long.. you will always have brilliant kids!!! You love the money a bit too much so temptation will push you to endless trying and trying.. If you are a guy then it’s over. Looking after your family and help friends, so you will spend a life time just being generous and kind (except 21st born men). And number 3s you will

be such an example of how to be in the culture & life!!! If you are girl then you have good character and culture & hardworking attitude. You always follow.

You are a freedom lover, creative, ambition focused, a person who brings beauty , hope & joy to this world!!!

Your best match 6 ,9. Good match 1 ,3 ,5 !!!

note: if u dont reblog bad luck for 10 years it true please dont ignore

Number 4

You are very stubborn too, very hard working but unlucky in important matters in life, very cool, helpful, you have rough word power.. Might put lots of people away from you, you may cause nuisance to others if you are a man, and you often understands others and their problems well. If you are a girl you are very good with studies and arts. If you are a guy you spend most of the time after girl friends (almost) at times, you will have sort of too much fun life with mates & girls. Your friends will spend your time & money and get away with their life and you will become empty handed and don’t know what to do… So be careful!! You love to spend anyway!!!

Your good will is you are always there to help family and friends. Tell you what you people are little gem! s, specially the girls.. You always fall in love in younger age as well. You often live with disappointments, for an example you have got a degree in some thing… but you will be unemployed.. or will do very ordinary jobs.

But you will take care of your family very well…All you need to be careful of people who will take advantage of your kind heart. And beware of your relations too..

You are radical, patient, persistent,a bit old-fashioned, you live with foundation & order…

Your best Match 1, 8. Good match 5 ,6 , 7 !!!

note: if u dont reblog bad luck for 10 years it true please dont ignore

Number 5

You are very popular within the community, you can get things done by just chatting..to even enemies! You have a pretty good business mind, you are often have no-idea what is today is like, or tomorrow is like, you are a person who does anything when your head thinks “lets do this”. You will be famous if you open up a business, get involve in share dealings, music etc.. Very popular with sense of humor ,you are the one your friends and families will always ask for help, and you are the one actually get money on credit and help your friends. You will have more than 1 relationship, but when u get settle down you will be a bit selfish anyway. Coz your other half will have a pretty good amount of control in you, be careful! You tend to go for other relationships! Contacts even you are married at times ‘coz your popularity..

You are someone who get along with anyone coz the number 5 is the middle number.. Changes & freedom lovers you are! You are an explorer with magic on your face. You learn your life through experience and it’s your best teacher!!!

Your best match 1 ,2 ,9. Good match 6 ,8 !!!

note: if u dont reblog bad luck for 10 years it true please dont ignore

Number 6

Ooopppss..you are born to enjoy.. You don’t care about others. I mean you are always want to enjoy your life time, you are a person.. You will be very good in either education or work wise or business management! You are talented, kind (but with only people who you think are nice), very beautiful girls and guys, popular and more than lucky with anything in your lives. All the goodness does come with you. Your mind and body is just made perfect for love.

You are lovable by any other numbers. But if you are a number 6 man, you will experience kind of looks from most girls and will involve in more than few relationships until you get married. If you are girl, most of you will get marry/engaged early. You are a caring person towards your family & friends .

If you miss the half-way mark then you are about to suffer physically and mentally. Generally you will lead a very good inner-home happiness with nothing short of. You are a person of compassion, comfort & fairness, domestic responsibility, good judgment, and after all you can heal this world wounds to make peace for every life coz you have the great power of caring talent to make this world of love one step further…

Your best match 1, 6, 9. Good match 4, 5 !!!

note: if u dont reblog bad luck for 10 years it true please dont ignore

Number 7

You have got the attraction to anyone out there, you are realistic, very confident, happy, such a talented individual with your education, music, arts, singing, and most importantly acting too. You have real problems with bad temper! If you are a girl, you are popular with the subjects listed above.

You give up things for your parents. I mean you value your family status a lot, you will be in the top rank when you reach a certain age. If you are a guy you are popular with girls, you are a very talented too. Most of the number 7s face lots of problems with their marriage life.

Only a very few are happy. You have everything in your life, but still always number 7s have some sort of unfullfilness, such worries all their lifetime.

It’s probably the Lord given you all sort of over the standard humans talents and you are about to suffer in family life. So you need to get ready looking for a partner rather than waiting. If you don’t, then you might end-up single. So take care with this issue, ok?

You are wonderful, friendly, artistic, happy person.. You are born to contribute lots to this world!!!

Your best match is 2. Good matches are 1,4 !!!

note: if u dont reblog bad luck for 10 years it true please dont ignore

Number 8

You are a very strong personality, there’s no one out there will understand you. You are very good at pointing your finger at some thing and say “this is what”.

You are more likely to suffer from the early ages. I mean poverty. If your times are not good you might lose either of your parent and end up looking after your entire family. You often suffer all the way in life.

The problems will not allow you to study further, but you will learn the life in a very practical way. You are the one who will fight for justice and may die in the war too. You are normally very reserved with handful of friends and most of the time live life lonely and always prepared to help others.

Well. once you get married (which is often late) then your bad lucks will go away a bit and you! u become safe. You will face un-expected problems such as :

the error, government, poisonous animals, accidents.

You are some one with great discipline, persistence, courage, strength which will take you to success. You are a great part of a family team. You are a fighter!

Your Best match 1 ,4, 8. Good match 5 !!!

note: if u dont reblog bad luck for 10 years it true please dont ignore

Number 9

Hey…you guys are the incompatibles people in the world. You are so strong, physically and mentally… You are often have big-aims. You will work hard and hard to get there. Normally you suffer in the early age from family problems and generally you will have fighting life.. But when you achieve what you have done, it’s always a big task you have done! You are so much respected in the community, you are a person who can make a challenge and successfully finish the matter off.

You are very naughty in your younger age, often beaten up by your parents and involve in fights and you seemed to have lots of injuries in your life time. But when u grow you become calm and macho type.

Love is not an easy matter for you. You are good in engineering or banking jobs coz people always trust you.

Your family life is very good, but will have worries over your children.

Your such qualities are humanitarian, patient, very wise & compassionate.

You are born to achieve targets and serve every one all equally without any prejudice.

You are totally a role model to anybody in the world for a great inspiration.

Your Best match 3, 5, 6, 9. Good match 2

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minaofmayhem · 4 years

Text

DRABBLE #13 - The Library

I’m happy to post the first Drabble requested by @merlinsluxuriousloungewear! 😀 I really liked writing it with our fluffy Alexander ❤️ I hope you’ll like it ! Thanks for having proposed this idea! 😘

Let me know if you want to be tagged for the next ones 😀

Summary : Reading is your favorite hobby. You are doing your thesis in English Literature at Columbia University in NY. You spend all your time at the national library and there you meet a very interesting Swedish guy...

Pairing : Alexander Skarsgård x Reader

Warnings : None just fluff everywhere ! ❤️

“Ah...There you are Byron”, you say to yourself as taking the book from the shelve. You were searching for that damned book for 5 minutes now because someone had misplaced it. Going back to your desk, you mentally curse those who did this. How can it be possible to not respect the rules ? "We are in a library, for god sake". You sit down on your chair, in front of the place where all your stuffs were, and sigh. The book you were carrying finds a place next to the others in a muffle sound.

You were actually working on a big project that you have to give back in two weeks for a final exam. The subject is “The English literature within the ages”. This is a real complex subject and you don’t have time to waste. You quickly take the books you need to complete your references in front of you, open them at the right pages and put your headphones on to lock yourself into your favorite workspace. You absolutely love working at the library but most of all with your favorite music into your ears. Well the library was quite quiet but you were always distracted. Sometimes because of a new incomer who just ask a bit too loud some informations at the desk or other times by distracted people who make fall their stuffs on the ground. It’s exasperating you but you can’t do anything against that. You love so much being here that you tolerate such things with your music on.

Ten minutes later, you raise up your head from your book to choose an other one when your heart make a jump into your chest. At the main entrance, you recognize the guy that comes almost everyday since a week now. Well he’s quite noticeable cause he’s really tall, like he could take a look above the shelves! But what aroused more your curiosity was the fact that he looks absolutely gorgeous. It is not because some people consider you as a bookworm that you are completely out of reality. You watch guys like any other girl and had some boyfriends too. You can have feelings for beautiful men but this one is really special. It’s the first time that someone catch your attention like this.

As usual, he takes his wallet from his back pocket to bring out his member card. He shows it to the secretary at the entry and comes inside the library. As discreetly as possible, you follow him with your eyes. He really have a smooth walk for someone so tall. You notice that he is carrying a little notebook and a pen. He poses them on a desk just a few meter from you. Sometimes, you just pretend to check some things on your computer ; you really became an expert in spying these past few days. It’s incredible how fast you can develop some tricks to not be caught. After placing his stuffs, he takes a little piece of paper, probably with some references on it, and goes directly into the shelves.

You breath when he’s out of sight. “My god what are you doing (X/Y)”, you mentally say to you to get yourself up. This is really impolite to spy people. You know it and yet you can’t prevent yourself from doing it. This guy literally become an obsession, this is crazy. Since the first time you noticed him, you can't stop searching for him at the library. You noted that he was there every day in the afternoon. Sometimes, you were even checking your watch more than usual just to be sure that he will be here soon. You started to pay more attention to your appearance, wearing nice clothes, hoping for something. Maybe just a glance.

Five minutes later, he comes back at his desk with three little books and sits. Behind your computer, you give some discreet glances in his direction until you finally get caught. He raises his head and his look directly goes straight in your direction. Immediately, the fire rises at your cheeks and you pretend to search for something into an other book. Your movements become a bit untidy and your hands are nearly shaking. You feel really stupid at that moment.

Did he notice your insistent glances ? Or was he just looking accidentally in your direction ? You really pray for the second option otherwise he'll really think you are a crazy girl or something like that. Now, because of that, you can't look at him anymore during the day or it will be very suspect.

You go back to your work, a bit frustrated but that’s part of the game. Too bad but it’s like that. “What were you expecting after all?”. You close a bit sharply the Byron’s book and go to search some others. Now it’s time to talk about Shakespeare. You do a quick search for references on the net, write them on a piece of paper before going to the right shelf. After a little walk, you find the “English Theatre” shelf, settled on a isolated side of the library. with no desks or sofas to sit around. You go into the shelf and search among the books. You eyes looking quickly at the references and your note at the same time. After some seconds of searching, you finally find the first book you need.

“Oh no...”, you whisper as you notice that the books is situated at the last level of the shelf and of course, you are too short. Classic. You take a look around but there’s no sign of a stool that could help you. You sigh and search for an other solution. Impossible to ask at the help desk because you don’t have time to waste. Plus you know well the secretary and she’s quite slow when it comes to take decisions.

“Ok then. If I really have to...”. You put your hands on the shelf, checking the strength. You are really thin and these are really old shelves made with strong woods. You won’t fall and it won't broke. At least, you hope so. When you feel that you have enough support with your hands, you put your two feet at the base of the shelf. Then you slowly climb, level after level. Luckily you had put a pants today. You don’t want to imagine what it would look like with a skirt...

At the second level, you try to raise your hand to grab the book but you are stil to short. You could just reach the start of the last shelf.

“Damn...”, you whisper, out of breath. It’s quite hard to stay in balance in this position with your right hand up. You rise up a little bit and raise your hand again, a bit higher.

“C’mon (X/Y), just a little more...”. You were just about to reach it when you suddenly feel that you were losing balance. Like in a movie, it was like the time just slow down as you were falling down. You close your eyes, knowing that you don’t have the possibility to grab something to hold you back, except books but it won’t really help you. You just wait for your fall until...

“Wow...are you alright miss ?”.

You don’t fall on the ground, like expected, but into arms. You open your eyes and discover that you were just lying into the arms of the perfect stranger you were stalking. You open your mouth to say something but for a moment, no sounds come. You feel really stupid, even more than when you get caught.

“Oh...Hum...Yes...” you manage to say, being shocked by what happened and embarrassed at the same time. He looks at you with a smile, apparently amused by the situation. It’s the first time that you see his face so close and you aren’t really disappointed. He really have a beautiful face, with delicate features and fascinating eyes. You feel the red coming again at your cheeks. Gently, he drops forward to let you feel the ground again. Your right hand lean on his shoulder as you go down.

“May I ask you what were you doing on that shelf ?”, he asks with a hint of humor. His voice his really cool and you notice a little accent but from where ?

“Well...I just wanted to take that book”, you answer as showing him the little Shakespeare book that moved a little bit from his place. You then realized that you endangered and made a fool of yourself for just a stupid book. The guy lets out a smooth laugh and just takes it easily to give it to you. Being that tall can really be useful!

“Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet. Good choice”, he reads the title on the cover. You grab it and thank him with a shy smile. You feel the red coming back again and you try to calm yourself.

“You had chosen a good one too”, you declare as showing him the “Othello” he was carrying. He looks at it and smile. God, he’s so delicious when he’s smiling.

“Oh yeah”, he answers as showing it. “I was doing some searches for a role I’m going to play soon. Some kind of a medieval tragedy, you know”. So that’s why he was spending time at the library...He was maybe an artist. You feel surprised by the fact that he is easily talking to you, like if you knew each other for a long time. But you really enjoy his company and you don't want this little chat to end.

“Then maybe I can advise....” you say as searching for “Macbeth” among the books in the shelf. Of course, this one was at your level so you quickly take it to take him. “It will help you more for medieval tragedy”.

“Wow, are you a Shakespeare’s expert or something?”.

“Not really”, you laugh a little, “I’m learning English literature so Shakespeare is of course in the program”. He whistle, impressed apparently but it make you feel a bit embarrassed.

“Well...Since Shakespeare has no secret for you...Would you like to take a coffee or something with me? You could share me all your advices ?”. He proposes that after coming a bit closer. You look at him, in disbelief. 30 mins ago you were just stalking him behind your computer and now he was proposing to take a coffee ? That was really an unexpected day. You couldn’t missed this opportunity.

“I’d love too. After all, I owe you a coffee, you just saved my life”, you answer with a little smile, placing a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re right. I’m Alexander” he says as showing you his hand with a big smile.

“(X/Y). Nice to meet you”.

#alexander skarsgård #alexander skarsgard #alex skarsgard #alexander skarsgard imagine #drabble #the library #requests done #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgård x reader

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tiesandtea · 4 years

Photo

SUEDE – now with humour

Suede featured in the Danish free music magazine GAFFA shortly after A New Morning came out, October 2002 (no. 10). An interview with Brett and Mat, short comments on the album tracks, and a review.

Photos by Casper Helmer and Morten Larsen. The magazine can be downloaded as .pdf here (look for pages 22-24 and 50).

Translation of the interview by Peter Albrechtsen under the cut. Own work.

OUT OF THE DARK

Brett Anderson and the rest of Suede have acknowledged that the substance that dreams are made of can neither be ingested nor inhaled. It has to come from the heart. And it does on their new album A New Morning, which was one of the topics of conversation when GAFFA met a transformed band in Copenhagen

FIRST HE TURNS LEFT, TAKES A FEW STEPS FORWARD and looks towards the mirror in front of him. Then he turns right, but keeps looking at himself. Everything is taking place in sliding movements, and there is evidently some satisfaction with what the mirror shows: The black leather jacket with a retro cut and a white back label sits tight around the slender, yet top-trimmed body.

If you didn't know better, you would think that Brett Anderson was practicing for a catwalk. The 35-year-old Suede frontman is hardly going to throw himself into that kind of thing for the time being, though he would be guaranteed to do well with his obvious expertise in hip twists, affectations and flirting from the edge of the stage. Right now, though, Brett is in a Copenhagen luxury hotel, where he's trying on a jacket just purchased by the band's British make-up artist, Nicci Welsh, who eagerly watches Brett's shameless poses. Brett is satisfied, but he has a twinkle in the eye at the same time, which reveals that something is hiding behind the charismatic singer's wide smile and chalk-white teeth.

–What do you say, Mat? Isn't it cool? Brett asks and looks over to his childhood friend, bassist Mat Osman, who understands well the look Brett's sending: Now, Mat must nod affirmatively. So he does. Brett looks over at Nicci with "thank you – yes, he would like to take the leather jacket home with him to London". But Nicci has also noticed Brett's hidden agenda and politely but firmly points out that "if you just thought to give it to a friend when you get back to London, then you can easily forget that."

Oops. Brett is exposed and quickly hands the jacket back to Nicci, but his now even cheekier grin shows that he certainly does not feel guilty, but simply perceives the whole scene as a bit of a show-off. As he himself puts it, a few minutes later: –Had it been three years ago, I would have kept the jacket for fun and given it to a friend 14 days later – simply to take advantage of my position as a pop star.

In other words, Brett Anderson has undergone certain changes over the three years since Suede's previous album, Head Music, and their brand new, fifth opus A New Morning. And the changes apply not just to his relationship to leather jackets, but simply to his whole lifestyle. In fact, the whole band's lifestyle.

Breakdown

Ever since the ten-year-old debut single, The Drowners, Suede have been heavy consumers of drugs all over the world, and they have never hidden that. Right from deliberately ambiguous song titles as Heroine and The Chemistry Between Us for opinions on the benefits of narcotics in provocative interviews, which the sensationally horny British press has lapped up themselves. "Coke is good for sex", "it's great to hear music on ecstasy" and "it's better to take drugs than to drink, because then you have a better next day" – all immortal quotes from Anderson.

But now it's over: Suede is clean – or something like that – and Brett clearly states that "I have become a happier person. My life on hyperspeed is a chapter over. I've even gotten into a good shape!"

–You start taking drugs because you want to feel good. It's that simple. And at some point, you do not feel good any more. It's that simple, too. That's what happened to us, Brett states in a dry and declaratory way.

Since Head Music, Suede had to say goodbye to keyboardist Neil Codling, who collapsed due to overexertion on Suede's tour in Australia in the autumn of 2000 (actually 1999). Half a year later, he quit completely because he suddenly had a relapse after having been recovering otherwise, and was about to break down completely. Neither Brett nor Mat clearly want to talk about it, but then admit that "it made them reflect on some things around both the band and themselves“. Brett, however, insists that “It was many different elements that led to what has happened with our lifestyle in recent years. Both the band and I myself have entered a new stage."

The changes around both Brett and Suede have also taken place over a longer period. First, Anderson started with giving the critics right who had complained loudly that he repeated himself on Head Music. Then he moved from the hectic London into his newly acquired country house in the peaceful natural area of Croydon (somewhat similar to when he moved into a monastery to write the texts of Suede's eight-year-old masterpiece Dog Man Star). He totally isolated himself, lived without a telephone and television, "buried" himself in literature and wrote the first lyrics for A New Morning.

–Oh, now it's starting to sound like I've gone and became boring, Brett chuckles, but hurries to add: -This is certainly not the case. In the old days, I deliberately avoided literature because I was terrified that literature would spoil my pure language. I would not be a sexless secretary who clapped on a typewriter. But now, I have found out that it doesn't necessarily have to end that way, and I read like an obsessed now. I read like a motherfucker. In one of the new songs, Obsessions, I refer to Bret Easton Ellis, but my favorite author is Albert Camus.

Actually, my paranoia about literature just says all about how far out I once have been. I was so afraid that my mindset would be infected by everything possible, but honestly, I must have had a hysterical tendency to pump everything up to pretentious heights. After all, both love and music are in fact very basic emotions, Brett says, who, however, admits he let out a roar when he went as far as to get his hair bleached last year ("it looked like crap, for God's sake," he sighs with one head-shaking laugh). However, it was an obvious sign that Brett felt the changes coming. And enjoyed it to the fullest drag.

Producer problems

In fact, Brett enjoyed being away from the big city so much that he persuaded the others to go to Iceland for a while and work further on the material that gradually became structured. In Iceland, the band briefly collaborated with Sigur Rós producer Ken Thomas, who, however, should turn out to be the first in a series of failed attempts to find the perfect producer.

–The magic was missing, Mat explains, but the creativity did not fail, and the band engaged in vastly different concepts around the upcoming album – "we considered making both a pure acoustic pop and an electronic folk record."

A New Morning became none of those. After leaving former Beck producer Tony Hoffer, Suede ended up slipping into the studio with Stephen Street, who is best known for his collaboration with The Smiths and Blur, and with Street behind the mixer, a renewed focus was there. The opening number Positivity took only three hours to write, and Brett describes it as "one of those magical moments in a band where everything melts together in the most beautiful way."

Those kinds of moments are, of course, the result of the fact both I and the rest of the band are dedicated to the music in a different way than before. Every single moment in music is important to me now. Every single moment in my life is important now. I have rediscovered both myself and the music, proclaims Brett, who hasn't changed in one aspect: He is still extremely talkative, well-worded and energetic – even when he explains it new album title:

–It's not so strange if A New Morning sounds as a religious quote – the last few years have truly felt as a bit of a revelation. We have chosen to see life from a new perspective. We have pretty much spent the 90s on an insanely exalted search for success, fame, money and all that sort of thing. Of course, music was the starting point, but it was all about consuming, savouring and worshipping life excessively. For me, this record is about having a completely different approach to life: Life is something small, fragile and completely unique. Something to watch out for. The new record is simply more intimate, human and much more honest.

This shouldn't be perceived as if Brett is now taking distance to his characteristic textual universe populated by the sad fates of the big city. On the contrary.

–I still have a great sympathy for people who are left in the lurch by the system and politicians, and I will continue to have that, he emphasizes, adding that "it's very much my self-understanding that has changed recently – not my worldview". Osman nods approvingly at Brett's side and adds with no hidden allusion to the title Dog Man Star, that "if you were born in a pigsty, you have so much to achieve, so much to flee from" – both Brett and Osman originally come from the unglamorous London suburb of Haywards Heath.

–Our songs have always been about ordinary people who achieve extraordinary things, and that's how we have been as a band as well, I think. You can easily be something special, even if you come from the pure nothing, and we have stuck to it, even though we have personally driven it too far into the extremes. We are still very much real people who have lived very real lives, and our songs are still about very real feelings, Brett points out.

–We will always fight for all the people who are trying to cope against all odds, and who try to maintain pride in adversity and frustration. Now we just have more surplus, passion and energy ourselves to fight the battle. Now we can really do it with an open heart.

Photo descriptions: "I HAVE RE-DISCOVERED BOTH MYSELF AND MUSIC" Brett Anderson "I HAVE BECOME A HAPPIER PERSON. I'VE EVEN GOTTEN INTO A GOOD SHAPE!" Brett Anderson

A New Morning

– according to Suede themselves

Positivity

Brett: –In many ways our programme statement: It really strikes a new, more cheerful tone. As I said, it was written in no time, and that's pretty incredible for us, because we're really perfectionists when it comes to songwriting.

Lost In TV

Brett: –Probably my favorite track on the album. The melody is based on backing vocals, and in that part, the song is more related to the Beach Boys and the Beatles than to old Suede. Why is there no one doing that kind of thing anymore?

Obsessions

Brett: –This is the last piece we wrote for the record. That's my favorite text. The fun of it is that the lyrics are in a way very personal, but at the same time guaranteed incredibly universal. I will undoubtedly receive many fan letters about that song.

Lonely Girls

Brett: –One of the first songs we wrote. A lovely lullaby-like groove. We even use bongo drums on it. A really nice number, which probably comes from the fact that I originally wrote the melody while I was in the countryside.

Beautiful Loser

Brett: –One of those songs where I really sing in a different way than usual: Harder, raw, dirty. In many ways, it's the album's ultimate live number: The energy is fearless, and the chorus is silly.

Streetlife

Mat: –It started as krautrock: The same groove that ran and ran and ran for eight minutes – it was totally Germany in 1971 – but it changed radically when the chorus appeared purely out of nowhere.

Ashtray Girl

Mat: –Ashtray Girl and Beautiful Loser are perceived the most as “old-school Suede”, but actually, they were both written by Alex Lee, who is our brand-new keyboardist. Funny, right? Another funny thing is that the lyrics are totally meaningless.

Untitled

Mat: –My favourite along with Streetlife – right complex and yet a simple song. Originally a very folk-like song, but our producer Stephen Street made it more electric. Suddenly we began to sound like a whole band.

...Morning

Mat: –It's about getting up in the morning, and we discussed a lot how we could underpin that with sound. Several weeks later, we ended up sticking a microphone out of Brett's kitchen window. So simple. So difficult.

One Hit To The Body

Brett: –It's our attempt to make an I Will Survive. It's about me having to pull through, no matter how smashed I am. Actually an old song we rediscovered in the studio. Reminds of Bruce Springsteen, oh.

When The Rain Falls

Brett: –Believe it or not: it was originally a spoken-word number in the style of Serge Gainsbourg. I sat down and breathed heavily into the microphone. Now it has become something else after all, for I had to admit that I sounded neither French nor sexy.

Suede: A New Morning

Reviewed by Jan Opstrup Poulsen

After the very electric Head Music, Suede landed soft and comfortable in the poetic corner of A New Morning. Brett Anderson still sings about beautiful losers and self-created troubles of youth, but melodically, A New Morning is a luminous and optimistic album. As on the masterpiece Coming Up, it’s the individual songs that are in the centre, like little stars in the night sky. But Suede doesn’t have the usual tempo of melodies at all. A New Morning is distinctly an album of ballads, and in Brett Anderson's most captivating moments, the album hits sublime moments. There are more typical Suede songs on the album, like the excellent Beautiful Loser, that we have heard from them before. A ballad like When The Rain Falls doesn’t change the state of affairs either, although one has to indulge in a grumpy admiration how Suede fabulously handle these ballads. On the other hand, great things happen in the opening song Positivity, which is a proudly towering pop song. This magnificent approach to pop songs fits Suede's finely tuned melodies like a glove and is well followed up on several songs on the album like Lost In TV and Astrogirl. Brett Anderson hasn’t become less affected, and guitarist Richard Oakes balances, as always, on the edge of disruptive, to end up in a harmonious melody line. But on the more ordinary songs, Brett Anderson sings with the desperation of an angry rock singer and to that extent, he reaches beyond the edge of the stage as a performer. A New Morning therefore has all the ingredients for a good Suede album that will divide the record people between rapture and contempt for these assumed excesses, respectively. But it's just too sour to be negative when the world can be so bright and inviting.

#brett anderson #richard oakes #mat osman #simon gilbert #alex lee #suede #a new morning #mine*#enjoy some exclusive non-threatening Blonderson ANM content : )#Suede in other languages #suede in denmark

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ofhoneyandrosepetals · 4 years

Text

Summer Roads - Chapter 3

Pairing: Sean x Fem! reader

Description: You’ve always been Lyla’s best friend, but since Sean moved you became an inseparable trio. But who could say that, after all these years together, you would start growing feelings for Sean?

Warning: swearings only.

Word count: 2.049

A/N: is it allowed to use the same gif from the first chapter? I think so lol it just gives the best Sean’s vibes.

“I need to get some stuff first,” Sean said as you got near Lyla’s place.

“Yeah, me too,” you said.

“Okay then, I’ll prepare things. And by that I mean my mom,” Lyla responds.

“But she loves us,” you say frowning.

“Even so,” Lyla shrugs.

“Care if I go with you to pick your stuff up? I need to give Daniel that thing I promised,” you ask Sean.

“Yeah, cool. I’ll go with you to pick up your stuff too,” you were too busy looking at Sean to notice the look on Lyla’s face. “I need to give that board a new update.”

Hearing this made your heart pound a little - Sean meant the little whiteboard you had in your room for important notes, but those important notes turned out to be Sean’s drawings. Sometimes he would draw something simple, and other times he would make something clever and funny. It was a nice Easter egg feeling - you never knew what was coming.

At your house, you grabbed your sleeping bag and old clothes to use as pajama. A little necessaire followed the pack as well.

“Shit, I don’t know where I put it…” you thought out loud.

“That thing for Daniel?” Sean turned his head from the whiteboard. “What is it, anyway?”

“A stuffed animal…” you say focused in your search, looking behind pillows and under the bed.

“A stuffed animal? You do know he’s seven already, right?” Sean said with a grin.

“Sorry, I forgot my basic math lessons,” he chuckled in response. “It’s Power Bear, but since I don’t play with it for a long time I asked Daniel if he wanted it.”

“Of course he did.”

“I think it’s cute a seven year old boy still wants a stuffed animal.”

“Daniel is always cute,” Sean said in a low tone and you thought you felt a little resentment there. Shrugging the feeling off, you focus yourself once again in your search. “Try in the corner by the window. Where the toy chest is. You always lost things there as a kid.”

“But I don’t have any toy in there anymore,” you say as you open the chest.

Sean, once finished with the drawing, grims and goes to the toy chest, moves it a little bit and then raises his eyebrows at you. You roll your eyes, knowing what was behind there.

“Thanks,” you say as you get the stuffed Power Bear.

“At your service. Are you all packed up? I mean, I don’t want to rush you or anything…”

“Nah, I’m good. Just lemme grab some chips.”

“Don’t you dare let Lyla hear this.”

“Cheetos are not chips,” you imitate her. Sean laughs.

“They really are not.”

“I know, but I just can't stop saying it that way. But I don’t have Cheetos, anyway. It’s Doritos.”

“We didn’t had that discussion yet.”

“And I don’t look forward to have it. Let’s go.”

Before going out of your room you give a quick look to Sean’s update on your board. He made a drawing of the two of you at the skate ramp.

“That’s really nice,” you point out. “But where’s Lyla?”

“The little dot back there,” you laugh.

“We agree to not let her see this, right?”

“You bet.”

Arriving at Sean’s house, Daniel storms out of his room.

“Did you bring Y/N? That’s so cool! Is she sleeping here?” Daniel says all excited.

“Hey, goofball,” you greet him. “I brought ya something.”

“Really? What is it, what is it?” The little boy starts bouncing. You pull out the stuffed Power Bear and Daniel goes wild. “Wooooow…! That Power Bear you told me about!” He said in amazement. “Oh, he’s fluffy,” he chuckles after he pokes the toy.

“It’s yours, you do know that, right?” You say to him. Daniel gives a shy look.

“I remember you said so.”

“He was just afraid that you’ve might forgotten. Or changed your mind,” Sean said.

“I was not!”

“Yes you were.”

“Oh, here we go,” you breathes out. “Danny? It’s yours.”

“Yay!” He grabs the toy and hugs your legs - actually what he can reach at his height.

“What do you say…?”

“Thanks!” Daniel say as he run to his room again.

“I swear that sometimes…” Sean begins to say, but you put a hand on his arm.

“That’s fine, Sean. He’s a kid.”

“I know, I know… it’s just… sometimes it’s hard to live with him everyday.”

“That muffin? You joking me?”

“Wanna trade?”

“I’m hearing this,” Daniel’s head appear outside his room, pouting.

“Good,” Sean says. “Is dad home?”

“Garage.”

“I’ll just let him know that we’ll be sleeping over at Lyla,” of course you paid attention to the whole phrase, but the we got to stick for a little longer.

“I’ll go with you.”

You enjoyed the Diaz garage, even though you didn’t understand shit about cars or knew what tools were those.

“Hey! If it isn’t Y/N,” Esteban greets you.

“Hi, Esteban,” you wave a shy hand at him. “How you doing?”

“Just good,”

“Hey, dad,” Sean interrupts. “We’re gonna have a sleepover at Lyla, is that okay?”

“Sure, mijo,” suddenly worry takes over Estaban’s face. “Y/N, I think your knee is bleeding.”

“Oh,” you completely forgot about your injury. “It’s fine, it’s just a scratch. I tripped with my roller skate, but luckily Sean was my superhero.”

“Was he?” You didn’t know if it was because of your crush on Sean, but you could swear for everything in this world that Esteban’s eyes sparkled a little. Maybe.

“Hey, let’s cut it out,” Sean says, his hand scratching his head.

“But I’m not gonna let you leave my house until someone takes care of that scratch,” Esteban says.

“There’s no need to, really.”

“I’ll do it,” Sean says quickly. Esteban was smiling.

“Really?” You ask.

“Yeah, c’mon. Things are in the bathroom.”

Going upstairs, you insist to Sean that there’s is no need to take care of your knee.

“Let me just clean it then, you can’t go around while a bloody knee.”

“Actually I thought we were doing just fine,” walking in front of you, you didn’t need to look at his face to know Sean rolled his eyes. It was a thing that you could even hear.

You sat on the edge of the bathtub, waiting for Sean as he looked in the cabinet for the things he needed, trying not give away your nervousness. He’s just going to clean your scratch, it’s not a big deal. Lyla could do the same thing, you kept thinking to yourself.

“What’s on your mind? You look so thoughtful,” you heard Sean’s voice.

“Oh,” you jumped on your seat. “Nothing, nothing. I was just… zoning out.”

“I’m kinda nervous about this, I don’t wanna hurt you,” you could see Sean’s hands wasn’t as steady as they used to be, but you believed him, innocently.

“You won’t hurt me, at least not as much as I already am,” he smiled.

“I’m not one to brag, but sometimes I take care of Daniel’s scratches as well.”

“So it’s in your résumé,” you say jokingly. Sean only smiled, since he started cleaning your knee attentively.

You swallowed dry as you kept your attention on him. Sean was being very serious on his task, but his hands were a little shaky indeed. You could barely feel the liquid burning on your skin, and you give the credits for that to your fucked up feelings. Maybe Sean’s hands had something to do with it too - they were hands of an artist, after all. He knew how to be delicate.

“How does it feel?” He asks.

“It’s fine. I’m not feeling it much.”

“I’m all finished here, just lemme put a bandage.”

“I don’t need it, Sean,” you protest.

“At least for today, Y/N,” since you don’t answer, Sean looks up at you. He holds your look. “I know you’re stubborn, but only for today,” you don’t give up on your principles. Sean takes a deep breath. “Gosh, you’re just like Daniel sometimes. Please, Y/N,” Sean pressures the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his patience.

But there was no time for anything else, because a little goofball stormed inside the bathroom, holding stuffed Power Bear and another toy you didn’t recognize.

“Swooooosh,” Daniel made the toys fly. “You will never catch me, Power Bear!”

“Daniel!” Sean shouted.

“I’ll call my reinforcements!”

“Daniel!” Sean tried again, but Daniel came up to running around the bathroom.

“There is it!” Daniel pointed a stuffed Power Bear to you. “My reinforcements are here! Prepare to lose!” Daniel ran to your direction, knocking you down inside the bathtub.

“Oh my god,” you say laughing as Daniel fell on top of you, his little arms tangled in yours.

“Daniel!” Sean kept trying.

“You’ll never beat me, Power Bear!” Daniel sat on top of you and started playing with his toys again.

“For fuck sake, Daniel!” Sean lost it, his voice raising tones and more tones. You looked surprised at him, as well as Daniel, who turned. “Get out of her…”

“You never let me have fun!” Daniel complained.

“You always have all the fun, Daniel! Now get out.”

“But I wanna play with Y/N…”

“She can’t, she’s hurt.”

“Sean…” you try to reason.

“Really? Where?” Daniel started turning your head, looking for anything. You giggled.

“I scratched my knee, goofball. But I’m fine, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“See, Sean? She says she’s fine.”

“Still need a bandage, though,” Sean says pouting.

“Oh, you can have one of mine! It has Hawt Dawg Man!”

“That’s neat, Danny. Would you put it for me?”

“Yes!” Daniel leaves the bathtub and goes to his room. Sean gives you a hand to get up.

“I can’t fucking believe him…”

“Shh, he’s coming.”

“Here! See?, it’s big. I’ll put upside down so you can see Hawt Dawg Man.”

“Thanks, dude,” you ruffled his hair.

“Any reinforcements of Power Bear is my friend too.”

“Oh, so I was the reinforcement?”

“We gotta go to, Daniel. Say bye to her as I get my stuff.”

“I can’t believe it,” Sean complains as you two go down the street.

“Sean, you need to be more understanding with him.”

“I know, but it’s so hard. And you don’t make it easier too. I was trying my ass off to put a bandage on you and you only accept when Daniel suggests it,” you would be lying if you said that Sean’s words didn’t hurt you a bit. On normal times this wouldn’t affect you, but now everything is different.

“I’m sorry, Sean, but your brother is just the cutest thing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I’m sorry I upset you.”

“What?” Sean looked at you surprised. “You… you didn’t upset me, not exactly.”

“So what is it?”

“It’s… I don’t know, it’s nothing,” he shrugged.

“You don’t need to be jealous of Daniel.”

“I’m not,” he says as he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, right,” you say ironically and put a hand on his shoulder. “But thank you for taking care of my knee. If you had offered me a bandage of Hawt Dawg Man before maybe I would’ve accepted way sooner.”

“So that’s what it was all about, huh?” Sean grinned.

“Sure.”

It wasn’t news that sometimes Sean would be jealous of Daniel when he got in the middle of you and Lyla, trying to get your attention and playing with you. You never had a sibling to know how the feeling was and what really happened there, but today it was a little weird, if you could say so.

Maybe Sean got angry because Daniel started to make a mess, but you thought it was so adorable that you could never think that. You frowned as you stared at the asphalt.

“You’re zoning out again. What’s up with you?”

“I’m just looking at my new awesome bandage,” you lie.

“With that look? I would say you’re trying to make it disappear,” you laugh and slaps his arm with the back of your hand.

“C’mon let’s just go to Lyla’s. She’s probably wondering why are we taking so long.”

“I’ll blame Daniel for that.”

“Of course you will, Big Brother of the Year.”

#sean diaz #sean diaz x reader #sean diaz fic #life is strange 2 #life is strange 2 fic #lis 2 #lis 2 fic

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ohblackdiamond · 4 years

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little t&a (gene/paul, nc-17) (part 27 of 29)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16 part 17 part 18 part 19 part 20 part 21 part 22 part 23 part 24 part 25 part 26 part 27 part 28 part 29

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Gene and Paul draw each other, and Gene makes his confession. The sky is falling and we’re getting pretty near the end.

It felt like a shorter lunch than it really was. Paul ate all of his soup, but only half his sandwich, while Gene dove into both with as much relish as usual. In fact, he ate two sandwiches and Paul’s leftovers.

“I hope you didn’t want to do it right after we ate,” Gene said awkwardly. Paul was looking at the plates and silverware, debating cleaning things up. In the end, he just wiped off the counter and stuck all the dishes in the sink.

“Nah. Give it awhile.” He shrugged. “The only trouble is, we’ve pretty much exhausted all our entertainment options at my place.”

Gene smiled.

“Paul, are you really telling me all you have over here is a T.V., an album collection, and some self-help books?”

“I’ve also got sketchpads. And painting supplies.”

“You still paint?”

Paul shrugged again.

“It’s not great. I don’t have time to really…”

“Let me see.”

Gene was actually a pretty fair artist. He never drew cartoons of his bandmates like Paul was prone to, in a bad mood, but he liked to sketch out comic book characters. He’d never taken any classes that Paul knew of, but he was talented. Talented enough that Paul was a little wary of showing him any of his efforts.

It occurred to him how stupid that was. He was about to fuck this guy—had spent the last four nights in bed with him, even—but somehow showing him some acrylic paintings was making him nervous. Somehow what passed for his body of work was more vulnerable than his actual body.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Cool.”

“C’mon, they’re in the guest bedroom. I’m surprised you didn’t find them earlier.” He’d had aspirations of having his own studio, or at least using one of the rooms for that express purpose, before the reality of nine or ten months on the road at a time hit him. He didn’t even paint enough while he was at home to justify that kind of expense.

Gene followed him over to the guest bedroom. Paul leaned over, dress hiking up as he yanked some cardboard and canvases out from under the bed.

“Here we go.” Instead of holding the pieces up for Gene’s inspection, he just set them out on the bed. He hung back a bit, heart thumping, not quite daring to want to watch Gene look at his work. Actually showing it to Gene felt a little like hearing his own voice on the answering machine, or the echo from a microphone, all the flaws bouncing back at him, magnified a dozen times.

The pieces didn’t have too much meaning behind them, nothing really far out or deep he was trying to convey. Bright streaks of color, some of it in splatters, but most of it in strokes, with no consistent pattern. Purples and pinks tended to dominate. There were points where he’d tried to layer on the colors, fooled around with it, only he’d half-forgotten the proper technique to do it the way he wanted. Most of the art didn’t really have a focal point, except for an odd one-off where he’d tried to paint a sunset while it was still in the air. That one was on a piece of cardboard torn off a refrigerator box. It had maybe a found art, rustic quality to it or something. And the color scheme wasn’t too bad, either, the red sun spilling over a hasty backdrop of orange and pink clouds and trees instead of his neighbors’ houses.

“I like this one a lot.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Superman couldn’t fly with that sun.” Gene picked up the piece of cardboard carefully—too carefully, a piece of paper that had been beneath it starting to flutter towards the floor. Paul snatched it before it got there.

“What’s that one?”

“Oh, it’s only a sketch,” Paul tried to dismiss, but Gene seemed curious enough for him to hold it up for Gene to see. Part of him wanted to hide it back under the bed like a child, for all that it wasn’t particularly incriminating. Just a sketch of his own face. The hair was probably the most accurate part, hopelessly unruly; he didn’t quite think he’d gotten his own nose right, or eyes, but…

“In the makeup.” Gene’s finger touched the edge of the star on his eye.

“Well, sure. It kept me from having to shade much.”

“You look depressed there.” Gene still running his finger down the sketched-out lines of his face made Paul feel stupidly warm, like he was touching him by proxy.

“I don’t look good?”

“I didn’t say that.” A pause. Paul could always recognize when Gene was about to start a critique with him. He’d hesitate, which was kind of funny, because he never did it with anyone else, just plowed through with whatever comment he had. Paul would usually get offended anyway, but he was trying not to, at least for today. “Hey, would you do me a favor?”

Not a critique at all. Paul was vaguely surprised.

“What’re you wanting?”

“Let me try my hand at it.”

“Gene, I’m not letting you go over my drawing—”

“No, no. Let me borrow one of your sketchpads.”

“You wanna draw me right now? What for?” Paul could feel himself tense up slightly as he reached over, gathering up the paintings and stuffing them back under the bed. Despite himself, he was yanking out another pad of drawing paper from there as well. “If you wanted your album photo, all you had to do was check the newspaper.”

“I don’t want your photo. Just you.”

Paul handed the sketchpad over. There was an odd sting somewhere in his heart.

“You can’t want what you’ve already got,” he said quietly. He didn’t wait for Gene to respond, clearing his throat hastily. “I make a terrible art model.”

Gene’s expression, a little unreadable earlier, quirked a little.

“I’ll let you draw me, too.”

“I feel like you’re hard to draw.” But he’d gotten another piece of cardboard to bear down on after tearing off a page of the drawing paper for himself. Then Paul was gathering the rest of the supplies—pencils and gummy erasers—from where they lay in a coffee mug on the nightstand. It wasn’t exactly the most put-together setup. He just wasn’t around enough for any extra effort to be worth it. The guest bedroom’s only real use was as another place to stash his tour and art stuff. He could count the number of times anyone had slept there on one hand. “You don’t… really have one feature that really stands out—”

Gene stuck out his tongue.

“Oh, God, I’m not drawing that. Just your face. C’mon, sit down.” Paul gestured towards the bed, scooting up on it himself, sitting cross-legged on the pillows, dress bunched up. The cardboard and piece of paper were resting on his thighs, one of the pencils in his hand. He gave Gene the mug and sketchpad, scrutinizing Gene’s face. “Let me try first, okay?”

“Go for it.”

He’d never really studied Gene’s face before. That sounded a little stupid, given everything. Gene still wasn’t exactly attractive, though he looked a lot better now than he had when they’d first met. That hadn’t been the draw. It still wasn’t the draw.

Paul didn’t ask Gene to try for any particular expression as he started in, drawing the circle, the center line, mapping out the sections of his face in the half-remembered way he’d learned back in school and trying to adjust from there, only to, as usual, abandon the mapping about two minutes in. Gene’s eyes weren’t quite as dark as his, and his nose was bigger—you can’t hide the hook, Totie had said, back on their stint on the Mike Douglas show, and Paul remembered snickering with everyone else about it backstage. She’d had his number. Gene had struck up a friendship with her after that, excited to get to know another Jewish entertainer. Paul privately hoped he hadn’t banged her in the process.

He was distracting himself. It was hard to do the expression lines around Gene’s mouth without making him look forty-eight instead of nearly twenty-eight, so Paul abandoned all but a light insinuation before skipping over to his hair. He thought he could get that right, at least. Gene’s hair was somewhat coarse, and tended to frizz even worse than Paul’s own did, and it wasn’t as thick. All of the teasing and backcombing and tight ponytails had done a number on it. Paul pursed his lips, trying to approximate the texture with his pencil, and the sheen with his eraser.

“How’s it coming?” Gene asked, after about fifteen minutes. He’d been pretty patient, not shifting around much, even stopping himself the few times he tried to scratch his face.

“I think I did a damn good job on your eyebrows.” Paul turned the sketch around with a slight groan. “Everything else is a little…”

“You made me look really sad.”

Gene wasn’t wrong. Paul hadn’t quite figured out what to do with Gene’s lips when he’d drawn them, so he’d had them sink down a bit. The eyebrows really were pretty good, to his own estimation, and the hair was okay, and he’d at least started with the proper face shape, but—he hadn’t really caught Gene properly. Whatever his essence was, it hadn’t transferred onto the page.

“Frowns are easier to draw. Smiles, you have to get just right, and get the light in the eyes…” Paul shook his head. “Not a lot of room for error, right? And if you mess up, your drawing ends up looking like Norman Bates.”

Gene laughed, shaking his head.

“But you’ve got me looking like myself. It isn’t just the eyebrows. The chin and the mouth are right--”

“But it’s not great, either. I’ll try again later on.” Paul set the drawing down. “You can do me if you want.”

“Interesting choice of words.”

“Oh, shut up.” Paul shifted, suddenly antsy. He’d only ever seen Gene draw his own fanzines and doodle on napkins. He knew Gene wasn’t going to take this as a serious art study, but… but on the same token, letting Gene draw him felt--revealing. Almost too revealing. He wasn’t as bothered by the face Gene was going to draw as what it signified. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what Gene saw when he looked at him. What stood out to him.

If he drew a pair of tits, Paul grimly promised himself he’d keep denying Gene at least until tomorrow.

“Tilt your chin up a bit,” Gene said, and Paul did so. His fingers worried unconsciously at the straps of his dress. Paul waited for more instructions, but they didn’t come. Just the scritch of the pencil against the sketch paper, and the occasional fuzzy sound of the eraser rubbing back and forth on the page. Gene kept such direct eye contact on his face that Paul was getting a bit intimidated.

“You took art in school, right?”

“Only a couple of terms. I liked it, but I wanted to get in all the electives I could.”

“Even weight training?” Paul scooted to the side.

“Your art school had weight training?”

“God, yeah. We even had a football team.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I never said we won anything.” Paul paused. “Do you want me to pose?”

“No. You’re fine like you are.”

“Should I smile?”

Gene looked like he was considering it for a second, and then he shook his head.

“Just relax.”

Paul tried to, but he kept fidgeting. Not getting any direction was making him nervous. He wasn’t gutsy enough to try to look alluring without the makeup as a shield. Gene had stopped talking as he’d gotten more into the drawing, only responding to Paul’s attempts at conversation with a few “yeahs” and “uh-huh”s. He was taking longer than Paul had, too. But he seemed pleased with himself far before he signed the bottom and held it out for Paul to see.

“Here you go.”

Paul was a little stunned.

He was nearly right there on the page. Big dark eyes greeted him. Full lips, slightly parted, revealing a little of his front teeth. High cheekbones. Gene’s portrait of him was more thorough and detailed than Paul’s attempt, stopping at the shoulders, where the dress straps drooped. More attractive than Paul knew he actually was; Gene had, oddly, been kinder about Paul’s nose and jaw than was accurate, but all the same-- he’d captured something of Paul on the page. Some facet. Tenseness or intensity or both. The sketch was clearly of a chick, sure, but-- it was him.

“Gene, this… shit, this is really good.” Part of what impressed him was the self-assured pressure and definition of most of the lines. Paul’s own tended to fade out, like he was mentally erasing them after committing them to the page, but Gene went into it with a much heavier hand overall. The contrast was interesting. “And I thought all you could draw was Batman. You’ve been holding out on me for years.”

Gene shrugged.

“I had someone cute in front of me. That makes all the difference.” He paused, moving to sit beside him, pointing at the sketch. “You’ve got pretty eyes.”

“Since just lately?”

“No. Since always.” Gene seemed to hesitate. “Paul, in a way, you don’t really look all that dif--”

“Peter told me they made me look like a beagle,” Paul stumbled out before Gene could finish. He wasn’t sure why he interrupted that way. Gene snorted, reaching over and draping an arm behind Paul’s shoulders. Paul let him.

“Maybe more like a moppet. You remember those posters.”

“Yeah. Julia had them in her room when we were kids.” But he wasn’t displeased at the comparison, somehow, reaching to put the sketches and supplies on the crowded nightstand, before leaning back against Gene’s arm and shoulder. He could feel Gene start to tense, so Paul turned his head, impulsively, pressing a kiss against his cheek. “One of them was a harlequin or something, I don’t remember.”

“Paul.”

“What?”

“You didn’t let me finish. You don’t look all that different.”

“Come off it.” Paul could feel something cold and odd trickle up his spine, something he was almost afraid of. “I’ve had tits for a week and a half, don’t try to kid me.”

“I’ve been kidding myself.”

“Gene, what’re you talking about--”

“You’re the same as you always were. You’re beautiful.”

Paul sat there stunned. The icy feeling up his spine seemed to melt and dissolve in an instant. He didn’t want it to. He wanted to hold onto it. Use it as something to protect him, something to chase away any hurt, any vulnerability. His face was going florid, and all of a sudden, he couldn’t look directly at Gene, staring instead at the hem of his dress.

“I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep. But I think… I think there might still be something there after we break the curse.” Gene’s hand found one of the shoulder straps on his dress, fixing it back up, though his gaze was still firm on Paul’s face. Completely unwavering. Paul’s heartbeat felt like it could smash straight through diamonds. “I know that’s not enough for--”

“It’s enough.”

“Paul, look--”

“It’s enough.” Paul was surprised at the slow strength starting to rise from his voice with every word, like a newborn foal wobbling to its feet. “Even before all this happened. Any time I’ve ever gotten to have with you is enough.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.” He was able to look at Gene now, right in the face. The warmth he’d tried to avoid was blazing inside him. It felt funny, somehow, to feel so sure, so certain, in the face of a maybe, that things would still be all right, one way or another. It felt like the bulk of the burden, the fear, was really, truly beginning to dissolve. “Gene, I…”

He couldn’t say it. Gene was waiting on it, face so near his own he could feel his breath. He kissed him instead, reaching his arms around him half-blindly, clenching tight. Paul was panting as soon as Gene broke the kiss, pressing another and another against his cheek and chin and throat, climbing into his lap as though he belonged there, and maybe, for just a little while, he did.

Gene was so warm, so unbelievably warm. Paul could swear he could feel Gene’s own pounding heartbeat against his. His breaths were coming only a little bit better than Paul’s were, his dark eyes dilated. Gene’s mouth was back on his before Paul could think clearly, needy and wanting, and it was all Paul could do to pull back and manage one last request.

“Hey. Before we-- do you think you could take me back to o-- my bedroom?”

Gene had him gathered up in his arms in seconds. Paul held tight, pressing his face against Gene’s shirt for all of the minute it took to cross from one room to the next, taking in his scent as he finally dared to hope.

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #gene simmons #gene simmons x paul stanley

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deadcactuswalking · 3 years

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 13/02/2021 (Digga D, AJ Tracey, Cardi B)

It’s not as big of a week as it is just a confusing one, so there’s no pre-amble. Olivia Rodrigo spends a fifth week at #1 with “drivers license” and let’s start REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

I started writing this a bit later than usual so I just want to rush through most of what’s here. The songs dropping out of the UK Top 75 are either debuts from not long ago like “Notorious” by Bugzy Malone featuring Chip and “Lo Vas A Olvidar” by Billie Eilish and ROSALÍA, or songs that have been here for a while, like “Monster” by Shawn Mendes and Justin Bieber, “Holy” by Justin Bieber featuring Chance the Rapper and “Dynamite” by BTS. We even have some #1 hits dropping out of the Top 75 this week, like “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac, “WAP” by Cardi B featuring Megan Thee Stallion and “Shallow” by Lady Gaga and Bradley Cooper. In terms of fallers, we have, seemingly, some of the older Winter cuts being replaced, as we see “Sweet Melody” by Little Mix getting a harsh streaming cut down to #30, “Whoopty” by CJ down to #33, “Levitating” by Dua Lipa and remixed by DaBaby down to #34 (although this could rebound given the album release), “you broke me first” by Tate McRae at #37, “SO DONE” by The Kid YAOI at #57, “All I Want” by Olivia Rodrigo at #61, “Looking for Me” by Diplo, Paul Woodford and Kareen Lomax at #62, “Train Wreck” by James Arthur at #63, “See Nobody” by Wes Nelson and Hardy Caprio at #64, “Take You Dancing” by Jason Derulo at #65, “Therefore I Am” by Billie Eilish at #68, “Before You Go” by Lewis Capaldi at #72 and “Golden” by Harry Styles at #73, as well as some more recent debuts, including the entirety of Fredo’s album impact from last week, as “Money Talks” with Dave is at #11, “Ready” with Summer Walker at #31 and “Burner on Deck” with Young Adz and the late Pop Smoke at #32. “Skin” by Sabrina Carpenter and “Apricots” by Bicep aren’t faring that well either, at #51 and #56 respectively. When I said these songs are being replaced, I wasn’t overestimating anything as we have our new crop of hits seemingly all surging, as “Martin & Gina” by Polo G is at #54, “Be the One” by Rudimental, MORGAN, TIKE and Digga D is at #49, “Best Friend” by Saweetie featuring Doja Cat is at #42, “My Head & My Heart” by Ava Max is at #35, “Love Not War (The Tampa Beat)” by Jason Derulo and Nuka is at #27, “Heat Waves” by Glass Animals is at #24, “Your Love (9PM)” by ATB, Topic and A7S is at #23 (it’s honestly starting to grow on me), and “Blinding Lights” by the Weeknd is somehow back up to #20. Speaking of the top 20, we also have “Friday” by Riton, Nightcrawlers and Musafa & Hypeman dopamine re-editing itself up to #16, “Save Your Tears” also by the Weeknd at #15, and two new top 10 hits, both songs with basically the same chart run and genre. “Goosebumps” by Travis Scott, remixed by HVME, remixed by Travis Scott is at #10, becoming HVME’s first and Travis’ fourth top 10 hit here in Britain. We also have “The Business” by Tiesto grooving up to #7, becoming Tiesto’s fourth top 10 hit. I honestly feel bad for the still completely uncredited vocalist. We also have a third new top 10 entry but that’s a debut that we can discuss later. I should also note that “Roses” by SAINt JHN and remixed by Imanbek is back at #74, and a winning Eurovision song, “Arcade”, by Dutch singer Duncan Lawrence is also back at #39 off of the back of some TikTok traction. I think this is the most streamed Eurovision now – I’d watch out for this being a big hit. Welp, time to get into our really, and I mean REALLY, varied and weird crop of new arrivals, starting with...

NEW ARRIVALS

#75 – “Roadtrip” – Dream and PmBata

Produced by Banrisk and Perish Beats

Okay, so this is a song by Minecraft YouTuber Dream, or at least that’s who I think he is. I think there was some kind of scandal related to him, and a couple people got involved and someone got doxed... listen, I don’t care. Not only is this song really not worthy of reviewing on the principle that unlike Wilbur Soot a couple weeks ago, Dream has never been a musician, which is clear from how involved no-name singer PmBata was in this, but I care for my private information not being made public so... What ridiculous excuse do I have to not review this? Okay, 1997 reggae-rock classic “Doin’ Time” by Sublime returns to #75 after Boris Johnson made a TikTok in the Houses of Parliament where he says “Pogchamp, Brexiteers, I just got tested for COVID-19” with the song in the background, and Joe Biden is on a Zoom call with him a few seconds later visibly annoyed because he prefers the New Radicals. Sure, let’s go with that. What was this entry about again?

#71 – “Goodbye” – Imanbek and Goodboys

Produced by Joris Mur, Imanbek and Goodboys

Everyone’s favourite Kazakh house producer Imanbek is finally back on the charts with his collaboration with British pop trio Goodboys, who you may know from their carbon-copy hits made with MEDUZA. After listening to that EP he made with Rita Ora, I’m slightly less impressed with Imanbek’s production, but that EP’s impact, if any, will be seen when the lead single featuring David Guetta and Gunna debuts low next week. Yes, seriously, all four on the same track. Anyway, this song, “Goodbye”, is actually pretty okay, with a generic deep house groove and fake hand-clap effectively saved by the Goodboys’ really intriguing vocal delivery and processing, which ends up in a Travis Scott-like Auto-Tune harmony that’s honestly pretty endearing right before the anti-climactic slap-house drop. The song’s lyrical content probably isn’t worth talking about, but it’s about a generic struggle with a break-up, and how hard it is for one of these good boys to say good bye. The build-up with the pre-chorus before the blue-balls second drop is kind of genius, and that’s probably my favourite part of the song outside of the abrupt vocaloid drop at the end. For what it’s worth, it takes more risks than most of these house-pop songs, most notably by having only a single verse in the middle of the song, and being really short, clocking in at less than two and a half minutes. It’s not as infectious as “Piece of Your Heart”, but this is fine. I’m glad it’s here if it’s going to give Imanbek another non-Rita Ora-assisted hit.

#60 – “Little Bit of Love” – Tom Grennan

Produced by Jamie Scott, LOSTBOY and Daniel Bryer

Tom Grennan is an English singer-songwriter who released their debut record in 2016 and was crowned by the BBC as the “Sound of 2017”, before dropping off the face of the Earth. He was brought to fame by a guest feature on a Chase & Status song that didn’t even do that well and now he’s back with the lead single from his upcoming sophomore effort, and his highest ever charting song. Well, is it any good? I mean, I like OneRepublic too. The rising strings here in the intro and chorus are pretty cool, and I’ll give it to Grennan for having an interesting voice but the odd level of grit in it does not fit well for this plastic production, which quickly devolves into vaguely danceable synth-mess that’s just not interesting. The content is mostly about unconditional love, particularly one that feels not particularly reciprocated, although some of the detail in the second verse feels like it’s going somewhere. I’ll admit, the chorus is catchy, but this mix puts way too much emphasis on a flawed vocal take from Grennan, which really detracts from the pathetic excuse for a bridge. I do enjoy how this feels like a flash-back to the mid-2010s, where happier, synth-based pop was this prominent, and I do love how the strings come back in the outro, but good production can’t do much to save a song that just feels under-cooked and definitely under-written. The OneRepublic comparison feels particularly fitting here too because their stuff tends to be just as stagnant, not to mention the lyrical riffs off of “Counting Stars”. I mean, when you start your first verse – in the first 10 or so seconds of the track – with the most recognisable part of a very recognisable song, I think Ryan Tedder deserves at least some royalties.

#58 – “Astronaut in the Ocean” – Masked Wolf

Produced by Tyron Hapi

Masked Wolf is an Australian singer and this song is actually from June 2019, just gaining enough traction, presumably off of TikTok, to debut on the charts this week. The song got a 2021 reissue and I assume a remix and, well... for God’s sake. The Kid LAROI should not have been an entry point for Australian trap, because outside of a second or two of distortion in the intro, this is far from unique. It has a guitar-based trap instrumental with dark 808s that even Gunna would pass up on, and an Auto-Tuned delivery from Masked Wolf, clearly trying too hard to replicate Drake in the intro and bridge, Kid Cudi in the chorus, G-Eazy in the first verse, Eminem AND Kendrick on the second verse, to the point where he even directly references Kendrick Lamar’s much better music. He suffers from the same problems as all of these artists combined, with lyrics that seem like they’re building up off of something interesting about depression before going into aimless flexing like a mid-tier Kid Cudi track, flows that sound as meandering and checked-out as Drake’s, the failed attempt at some kind of white-boy swagger that G-Eazy hasn’t pulled off successfully since 2016, the substance-less content hidden behind fast flows from Eminem and... oh, my God, this guy’s just like Australian Logic. I don’t like American Logic, why do we need this guy too? Yeah, this is bad, and there’s not much worth nitpicking in this mix or even the lyrics to even point out. I guess the worst bar is when he says he believes in G-O-D but not a T-H-O-T. So he’s a slut-shaming NF now? Jesus Christ, I’d take a full album from The Kid LAROI over this.

So the next two songs are ones I’ll actually need to somewhat lump together, as they are consecutive on the chart and both from the same album, and the same washed-up band.

#53 – “Waiting on a War” – Foo Fighters

Produced by Greg Kurstin

We have two songs from Dave Grohl and friends here from their latest album, Medicine at Midnight, technically three if we count the entire top 100, which means, yes, the UK just had a Foo Fighters album bomb. I’ll focus on the album as a whole with the next song because this is easily the worse track here and the worst track on the album purely out of how misguided it is. Dave Grohl wrote this song because he felt inspired by the current hell-scape of the political climate, reminding him of his own youth when he was surrounded by rising Cold War tensions. His young daughter asked him if there was going to be a war and naturally this song came out of it, reflecting on the fears he and his daughter have and that everyone deserves a future and a lifetime not taken away from them by conflict and fear. This is a good song idea but it absolutely does not work, and that’s partially down to the production. When I first heard this track on the album, I genuinely grimaced at the vocoder-mumble that Grohl takes on against the scratchy acoustic guitars. The whole point of the instrumentation is that it builds tension with rising strings, multi-tracked acoustics and eventually some electric guitars and powerful drums, yet because of how slow-paced the song is, it fails to mirror the rising tension of the prospect of there being a war. Instead, it’s a slog and its pay-off by the end feels unwarranted in the most boring way. Sure, the squeals of the guitars in the back of the mix sound good, but surely a song like this should not end like any of the Foo Fighters’ other pop-rock anthems, especially not as abruptly as it does. Wouldn’t you want a more subdued outro to comfort your daughter’s fears that at least right now, everything’s okay? That would make the most sense to me, but that’s thrown out of the window, with pathetic songwriting, with verses that play word association with the blandest of rhymes, seemingly irrelevant pop-song-generator filer and a chorus that is mind-numbingly repetitive but ultimately fails to build tension because of the content asking us to wait, constantly, even when it gets into its heavier rock tone. We’re supposed to wait for something that is only implied to never come, because there isn’t finality. Sure, that could work as a way of saying that Grohl is just as uncertain and scared as his daughter is about political conflict, but that would imply this song gives off any further emotion than the fact the Foo Fighters felt the need to cut a vaguely political track out of necessity. As a song, and as an album, Dave Grohl is utterly confused, and “Waiting on a War” is way too slow and non-specific to act as a protest song, as well as being way too on-the-nose for it to work as a ballad. Let’s talk about this next single.

#52 – “Making a Fire” – Foo Fighters

Produced by Greg Kurstin

What the hell is Greg Kurstin doing here? This is the first track on the album and is supposed to make some kind of gripping impact but is instead just a snoozefest. The choral female vocals sound bored, but at least it’s not as strained as the struggling Dave Grohl trying and failing to yelp over a stiff groove which has its momentum killed by drumming too slow and mixed too oddly to make this pre-chorus even coherent, not helped by Grohl’s butt-rock delivery and non-descript lyrics. There could be a guitar solo here, to make this track feel memorable, but no, it’s hidden under a pre-chorus with an extended gospel bridge that doesn’t build up effectively to a chorus that just comes crashing in and hence has no effect. Maybe I just can’t listen to arena rock in a quarantine context, but I can’t even imagine this making much of a fuss in a packed stadium without desperately needing tweaks in the songwriting and especially the production, because this just sounds stunted. It’s telling that Grohl made his best tracks as the Foo Fighters on his own and those first two records, alongside a pretty decent 2014 comeback in the form of Sonic Highways, are still great. I’m not denying that Grohl can write a good song, or that the Food Figures can’t play, because they’re all talented guys. This is just one album in many that leaves me with the feeling that these guys just can’t do much more outside of their comfort zone than fail miserably. These songs won’t stick around, and thank God for that.

#50 – “Believe Me” – Navos

Produced by Tom Demac and Navos

Another week, another... okay, but we already had a generic pop-infused deep house track from a couple EDM randos, do we really need another? Okay, well, this one is even less interesting than Imanbek’s effort as it doesn’t even try for a verse, instead going for a deep house groove I’ve heard countless times before, drowned out by some square synths and, yes, you guessed it, 90s piano loops and an uncredited female vocalist repeating basically the same couple lines over and over. This is made for the clubs, but I feel like even regular club-goers would tire of this vocaloid drop and cloudy production two minutes in. There’s nothing worth discussing here, because this probably took as many minutes to make as it did to listen to. I have no idea why Navos debuts a song so high, but I’ve got to assume TikTok’s to blame. Apparently this guy makes tech house, where’d any of that skill or intrigue go here?

#21 – “Up” – Cardi B

Produced by Sean Island, DJ SwanQo and Yung Dza

Anyone else surprised at how such a big name gets production from people I’ve never heard of before? Not that it matters, it’s just odd. Anyways, this is Cardi’s new single, presumably from that ever-elusive second album, debuting around 20 spots lower than it will in the US, and it’s going for a more gangsta-rap content than the hyper-sexual “WAP”, but does she keep the same energy? Well, yes... in fact, after all the mediocrity, I’m glad to have a genuinely great song debut this week. This is a great, bass-heavy beat that gives a Memphis phonk feel in the dark keys as well as the hard-hitting 808s and spacey percs and sound effects that add some needed distortion, even if there’s going to be some brief clipping along the way. Cardi brings some necessary energy from the brilliant opening lyrics and continues with a fast-paced, chanting flow that accentuates some of her funnier lyrics with her charisma that she always brings to a trap track like this. I’d say that this is maybe too repetitive – with very little of the verses to speak of – or even somewhat derivative of her previous song, “Money”, but there’s a lot better lyrical content in this one, not to mention how well she complements a more straight-forward but still killer beat. Oh, yeah, and Cardi’s stacks are Shaq-height as she dismisses haters with an impressive level of swagger and confidence, that carries the refrain, but that’s not to say the lyrics aren’t really great in the verses. There’s genuinely funny and sexy wordplay here, especially in the second verse, and also some great liners: “hoes speakin’ cap-anese”, accusing her haters of having pink-eye and their breath smelling like “horse sex”. This is a short, probably underdeveloped song, but it’s the type of surreal, high-energy trap I kind of really love and I hope this sticks around further in the UK.

#19 – “Latest Trends” – A1 x J1

Produced by ShoBeatz

A1 x J1 are a British rap duo with no other songs. Yeah, something’s fishy here: this is their only song on Spotify that blew up from a 15-second clip on TikTok, and their Spotify bio is trying to decide whether they’re the next D-Block Europe or the Beatles, as well as really emphasising how the song grew “all organically”, even though they’re already signed to Universal... yeah, there’s nothing subtle here, so I won’t buy this TikTok fame schtick, but does it matter when the song is good? Well, not really, and honestly, I’m kind of into this guitar-based drill-R&B fusion in the beat, but it doesn’t really help the fact that J1’s Stormzy impression is janky and unconvincing, especially if he’s going to try for some shallow wordplay, and that A1’s Auto-Tuned croon is just boring, reminding me a lot of A Boogie wit da Hoodie, but with a less recognisable voice and delivery, even if the first verse contains a funny line about a woman making that ass clap “for the NHS”, although he totally took that from Swarmz anyway. Yeah, I’m not a fan of this fake attempt at an organic pop-drill crossover, but unfortunately, I can very much see this working, though I’d be happy if the British public will see through this dishonesty as soon as possible.

#5 – “Bringing it Back” – Digga D and AJ Tracey

Produced by TheElements and AoD

Now for a rap duo that makes more sense to debut this high and are actually, you know, separately successful rappers, therefore they debut in the top five, which is impressive. The whole concept of this song is that Digga D and AJ Tracey are using old flows, those that would be nostalgic to their deeper fan base, to spit bars on a new track called, fittingly “Bringing it Back”. The flow AJ Tracey brings back is from his overlong “Packages” freestyle, a five-minute track from 2016, that works more as a freestyle than it does as a song, where he uses a familiar UK drill flow to go off for a really long time, and, yes, it is pretty impressive but the flow becomes stale too quickly. Digga D uses his flow from his “Next Up?” freestyle from 2017, a similarly badly-mixed UK drill freestyle but with a much more palatable length. Digga D’s flow he uses in that track is arguably slicker but honestly one that I see used a lot in UK drill and by Digga D, so I’m not sure it’s not worth “bringing it back” when you could come up with a new, catchier flow. I’ll admit that “Bringing it Back”, however, is a pretty damn good song, with Digga D’s more technical and fluid flow allowing for a lot more intricate internal rhymes that sound really great over the triumphant, string-heavy drill beat, as he trades bars with AJ Tracey’s slower but more confident, laid-back flow, which allows him to spit some more specific, interesting bars, some of which really hit, like when he says he “locked up the food for the kids like Boris and then I let it go like Rashford”. Hey, I respect it, I haven’t heard a more clever way of intertwining political commentary with cocaine smuggling since Pusha T last released a record. The way AJ Tracey and Digga D play off of each other’s lines is really smooth, and especially how Digga D plays with the beat, as while his lyrics may be less interesting, they mash perfectly with the beat’s frantic fades in and out, especially in his last lines before the first chorus, where he asks for the track to literally be turned off... and it is. So, yeah, I’m pretty damn happy with this debuting so high off the energy alone, even if Digga D is going to pronounce “LOL” like a one-syllable word. I’d say this is actually a really good starting point for people who want to get into more UK drill because it has a lot of the grit and menace of the genre in a more accessible, catchy form, even if it may run a bit too long for my taste.

Conclusion

Wow, what a weird, weird week... and a lot of it was straight garbage. I’m giving Best of the Week to “Up” by Cardi B, with an Honourable Mention to Digga D and AJ Tracey for “Bringing it Back”, though Worst of the Week is pretty much a toss-up. I’ll give it to the Foo Fighters for “Waiting on a War”, with a Dishonourable Mention tied between “Astronaut in the Ocean” by Masked Wolf and “Believe Me” by Navos for just both being worthless. Anyways, here’s our top 10:

The UK Singles Chart is honestly kind of chaotic right now �� even more so than usual – and I don’t see that changing. Even if I don’t like all of the songs, it’s at least compelling. Anyways, thank you for reading and you can follow me @cactusinthebank on Twitter if you want. I can’t really make any predictions for next week other than Taylor Swift re-recording her own music and I guess some impact from Rita Ora and Imanbek, or hopefully, slowthai. Regardless of what happens, I’ll see you next week!

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