#i just prefer jackets they make me feel like a smidge more put together and intentional u know

[stabbingandorbeingstabbed]

taking the revenge hoodie bootleg i got in like 2018 out for a spin im not a hoodie guy but it just felt like. well i might as well !! i Did spend money on it and it hasn't seen the outside of my house in like 3 years she needs some fresh air

#i just prefer jackets they make me feel like a smidge more put together and intentional u know #but the hoodie is. dare i say iconic #even tho she's only a bootleg

[demons-are-curing-my-depression]

Cheat Code Unlocked (Obey Me!: Leviathan Smut)

         Minors - Do Not Interact / 18+ ONLY

A/N: I just had the idea of cock warming Levi while he games stuck in my head for so long that I had to write it out. Then I got the idea of his score in the game correlating to the actual sex and well... this happened. AO3 Link if you prefer to read that way.

"MC" is used to refer to the Reader / the character once. No terms used to described MC(/Reader) other than female parts.

(If you would like me to attempt to write an alternate version of this where the Reader is Gender Neutral and/or a version where the Reader is male then let me know.)

Tags/Warnings: Cock warming, gaming while cock warming, unprotected sex (BE SAFE) tiny bit of Praise Kink, Smidge of Over-Stimulation, No Real Plot, Fluff towards the end

Minors Seriously DO NOT Interact with this. Adults can get into actual trouble if minors are interacting with their explicit 18+ content. (I don’t care if you’re 17 or going to be 18 soon. If you’re a minor DO NOT INTERACT.)

It was getting more and more difficult to concentrate on the game in front of him. Painfully stiff but remaining still inside her warmth; her bare legs over the arms of his gaming chair and her bare chest against his infuriatingly still clothed one. One hand with fingers threaded through his hair, the other gripping his jacket, as her lips pressed slow and gentle kisses up and down his jaw. 

"You're doing so well," she cooed, pulling out the whimper that had been stuck in his throat. Levi let out a shaky breath as she clenched around him, shifting slightly in his lap. Her lips trailed up to his ear. "I'm so proud of you, baby." 

"M-MC…" he whimpered. He wanted desperately to forgo the mouse and keyboard and just put his hands on her. Better yet, he wanted her to just move.

"What are you up to?" she whispered.

"F-fifteen," the word came out in a breathy whisper.

"Is that enough?" She kissed a trail from his ear to his temple. "Maybe you should get a few more... just in case." She used a finger to brush the hair out of his eyes. He let out a groan and found himself glaring at the number on the screen.

"I-I need you," he gasped out. "Now." 

"Okay, baby." She pulled back and smiled at him, giving him a long kiss. He hissed into her mouth as she shifted and raised herself up and off of him, their mouths still connected. His lips attempted to chase hers as she stood up. She turned around and bent over with her hands on his desk. "Well, take your reward." Levi was quick to his feet, chair rolling back somewhere behind him, one hand quick on her hip and the other helping to guide himself back into her slick heat.

"Count," he said with a gasp before he bottomed out with a single thrust.

"One!" she squeaked. His hands gripped her hips as his own started to move, pulling her firmly back against him with each solid motion, pushing as deep as he could. "Two! Hah- .. Three!" The sound was muffled against the cloth of his sweatpants around his thighs and he quickly yanked them down farther. He needed to hear it; the sound of his skin meeting hers mixed with her gasps and moans made his heart dance in his chest. This was his doing; she wanted him in this way, wanted him inside of her making her cry out with pleasure like this. 

His rhythm was steady, trying to savour each stroke and the feel of finally moving inside her. He watched how her ass jiggled each time his hips connected them together with every thrust, how he looked sliding in and out of her, fucking out each number he'd earned from her lips.

"Fuck-" he gasped, head thrown back as she clenched down on him.

"T-Twelve!" she moaned. Shit, he'd hadn't been paying attention. His hands flew from her hips back to the mouse and keyboard. He bent over her, pushing her down further onto his desk, pressing her clit against the surface with each thrust making her let out a sound that helped push him further to the edge.

"K-Keep counting." His pace changed but didn't stop. His forward thrusts came much faster and sharper, snapping his hips against her with a satisfying slap of skin to echo throughout the room, before he'd pull out of her agonizingly slow then repeat the process.

"Fu- fourteen- ah fuck! Lev!" 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-!" He was so close, but he needed more than just one more thrust. His fingers tapped frantically and the growl that left his lips as she called out "Fifteen!" pushed her over the edge. She came with a cry, clenching around him perfectly. His hands abandoned the keys and returned to her hips soon to slide up her front to take a firm hold of her breasts. 

Keeping himself flush against her, his movement had her gasping as each desperate hump against her ass pushed her further onto his desk and rubbed her clit, making her legs shake from over-stimulation. The screens on the desk shook with their movement, the figures on the attached shelves rattled loudly above them. 

"Oh fu-uck!" His frantic humps carried him through to his orgasm and pushed her to her second. He finally stopped his movements, releasing inside of her with a cry of her name.

The two stood there, panting, a moment; his forehead rested against her shoulder before he placed a kiss against it. His hands slide down from her breasts to hold her sides.

"That… that had to be cheating," she gasped as she came down from the high, turning her head to look back at him. He grinned.

"Ru-rules were… one kill… one thrust… a-and technically I did stop at fifteen…" he pointed out as he attempted to catch his breath. She let out a small laugh as he continued to grin at her.

"Great, you found a cheat code to sex," she teased.

"Not cheating-!"

"Shut up and kiss me, you dork," she said as she rolled her eyes. He looked away and if his face hadn't been flushed before it would have lit up like a tomato. "You just fucked my brains out and you're getting shy about kissing me?" she teased.

"I-it's just a very intimate thing!" he shouted as he hid his face against her back.

"Levi, baby, you're still inside me. You don't think that's a little intimate?" she asked with a light chuckle. He lifted his head and looked back at her with a pout.

"I…" He looked away. "Yeah… b-but that's different. And I… I like feeling connected to you." His arms wrapped around her as he ended up mumbling the words against her skin.

"But kissing is too much," she said with a lighthearted tone as she continued to keep her head turned in an attempt to look at him. "So then I guess you'd be opposed to a bath with me before bed, huh?"

"N-no-!" His head shot up. He leaned forward and quickly kissed her. "I-I… I wanna take a bath with you." She smiled at him and he swore his heart did flips.

"I love you, Levi. Don't ever change." He buried his face against her neck with a whine.

A/N: I haven't written smut in so long, can you tell? XD

(Again: If you would like me to attempt to write an alternate version of this where the Reader is Gender Neutral and/or a version where the Reader is male then let me know. I'd be happy to accommodate. I just don't know if anyone wants it.)

#obey me levi smut #obey me leviathan #obey me smut #Leviathan x reader #minors do not interact #nsft

[boognish-worshipper]

Midnight City AU

this is an au where the main characters are all young adults!! (or millennials ig? they’re in their 20s basically) i gave a rundown of what’s what on a diff post,, i’m also splitting it up into diff chapters,, so this is gonna take a looooong time to finish. i’m posting this before i nitpick my writing to the max

it’s basically a lot of references to that point in time, artists, pop culture etc. all the chapters are named after songs from that era (including the name of this au bc i love midnight city and what better way to describe LS ‼️), and the lyrics r usually connected to what the chapter’s about, or about a character dynamic :D i hope this isn’t too cheesy, or sounds off ig. any typos in this were probably over looked bc i constantly reread my writing and rearrange stuff and make sure it sounds good 🥳 hope y’all enjoy !!! i’m also including a tag to find the chapters under :)

//Chapter 1: Crimewave

Trevor would never, ever admit it, but he had fallen into the category known as “post-hipster”. This was a strange era that began culminating, taking LS by storm. Whether he liked it or not, he could never avoid it. Even if he swore up and down he wasn’t like them, it was practically a paradox. Saying he wasn’t like them just made him a branched off version of the thing he denounced. Each aesthetic that was churned out as the 2010s rolled in were tied to a style, a sound, and Trevor couldn’t care less. It’s not like people liked what he liked. He didn’t belong to anything in particular, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t like them. If anything, he just became another obscure genre in the mix.

One of his favorite music groups was a Canadian duo called Crystal Castles. He enjoyed a good number of their songs, developing an interest for electropunk and pop punk. There was something unique about the sound, and it made Trevor feel special, like he discovered some sort of hidden treasure. He was into pop punk groups like Paramore too, but it was something about them that was just different. People knew Paramore. He often lingered around Sterling Lake, where other post-irony hipsters and classic hipsters resided, careful not to fully associate with them. After all, he apparently despised them, even though he participated in their strange… “culture”. If you could even call it that. From time to time he would find himself discussing his favorite artists with whatever semi-normal person was there, making a couple friends himself who weren’t the snooty kind he’d grown used to.

They all loved talking about how exceptional their taste in music was, a wide variety of people hanging around with their own cliques. Some liked Fall Out Boy, while others liked Blink-182, and then there were the weirdos who liked groups like Radiohead. Most of those guys were whiny, proclaiming how misunderstood they were. He knew maybe one Radiohead song at most (he definitely, definitely never cried to “Creep” and even if he did, so what) but never found himself willingly getting into their music. Then you had the nosedivr crowd, which consisted of mostly girls, and the occasional hipster guy that defected. Their taste was.. alright. Consisted of artists like Lana Del Ray and Marina and the Diamonds, who were their idols. He found almost everyone there besides the few friends he made kind of edgy, and not in the cool way. But he figured all hipsters and guys like them were kind of uncool. Don’t even get him started on those other indie rock types. God. He still came back as often as he could though, establishing some kind of routine. Most people there avoided him anyway, which he preferred. He had enough troubles with them in the past. There was one day he grew tired of the people gawking at him, and he launched a hipster right into the lake. So yeah, nobody within their right mind so much as looked in his direction. That was just how he rolled.

Today, he sat on a nearby bench in Sterling Lake’s park, watching some ducks float on water. His usual friends had been there too, seeing his clowncore buddy Wade with his cousin Floyd. Wade was extremely different than the pretentious fucks around them. He had a shit ton of piercings, and ICP was his favorite music group. Floyd on the other hand, fit right in. Almost too much, like it was something he was forced to do. But he did genuinely enjoy Weezer, of all things you could enjoy. Wade started waving at Trevor, while Floyd hid behind him. All he did was awkwardly wave back, turning his attention back to the lake. He liked Wade, but the clown stuff he wore sometimes spooked him. He didn’t pay much mind to his relative. Looking back across the water, he saw someone new, observing the area. Some dude a little above the average height, hands in his pockets walking around. He seemed a bit lost, and Trevor figured he should help if he was. After all, what was this guy doing here? New people didn’t show up often.

“Hey bud, you lost or something?”

“Oh uh, nah not really. I’m just looking for this girl I met a while ago, said she hangs out around here?”

“What she look like? I’m here pretty often.”

“Uhh kinda short, dark brownish hair? Wears fishnet stockings, high waisted shorts or whatever those grunge people are into.”

“Let me guess, she into the Neighborhood?”

“How’d you know?”

“Yeah, that’s Amanda, she’s a bit of a regular. Not too fond of me I must say.”

“How come?”

“She’s just petty towards me.” He said with a shrug. He didn’t feel like relaying his encounters with her if the guy was dating her or something.

“Oh… well d’ya think you could help me find her? I don’t really know anybody else here. I could actually use the help, since you know her.”

“Eh sure, why not.”

It’s not like he had anything better to do. The two began to walk around the park, gravel and dirt crunching beneath their feet.

“So.. what’s this place about?” The strange guy asked.

“Hm? Oh, it’s just one of those places the hipster folks meet up I guess. Don’t understand it much myself, nor do I really like them.”

“Then why do you come here?”

“Dunno. It’s relatively peaceful, those freaks keep to themselves.”

The man, who was only a smidge shorter than Trevor, glared up at him.

“Hey man, don’t call my girl a freak.”

“Ehh I don’t really count her in with the generic skinny jean wearing hipsters. More of a.. what is it called.. nosedivr type. Whatever that stupid website’s called. Why do you think she dresses like that?”

“Huh.. Never really thought to ask her.”

As he thought about the stuff Amanda wore, he took note of how the man next to him was dressed. He sported an olive jacket with a black turtle neck, and a plain pair of jeans. He wore beat up black converse to top it off, and a pair of Rimmers sunglasses sat upon his head. He looked simple, yet distinguished with the way he presented himself, hair neatly combed back. He figured the two would look nice standing next to one another. They would’ve made an attractive couple, if they weren’t dating already, the kind that turns heads. Trevor wasn’t like them. He wore a black beanie over his mullet, and his favorite pair of red Dix sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose. The rest of his fit looked disheveled. He had thrown on a wrinkled top, solid black with little surf boards and cars along the bottom- he was a sucker for Hawaiian shirts. His pants were tan colored but had some bleach stains, with old combat boots on his feet.

“Yeah, we may not like each other but I don’t really consider her a freak like those guys.”

He jutted a thumb in the direction of a circle of guys huddled around a phone. The man holding the phone had strawberry blonde hair and a clean outfit on. An expensive looking outfit.

“Who are they?”

“The people here I absolutely cannot fucking stand. The genuine hipsters.”

“Oh.. and you’re..?”

“I’m my own kind. I’m not like these losers, all uppity and shit.”

“Right. Gotcha.”

They walked around a bit more before finding the group Amanda was with. She sat on a bench, chatting with a few girls who dressed similarly to her. All of them had black incorporated into their style. She herself had a black jumper on, tucked neatly into the front of her jean shorts. Just like the guy described, she had fishnets on under them, skater shoes to match. Loose braids fell on her shoulders, and a small black choker was wrapped around her neck.

“Oh, there he is now! Babe! Over here!”

She narrowed her eyes upon seeing Trevor standing next to him.

“Hello, Trevor.” She huffed.

“Relax, I was helping your boyfriend or whatever look for you.”

Her face softened slightly, but still kept a small glare in his direction. She pressed her lips together tight before replying.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Yup.”

The man turned to face Trevor, sticking out a hand.

“Hey, thanks for showing me around. Trevor, is it?”

“Don’t wear it out.”

He shook his hand, noticing how soft it was. It was in stark contrast to his own, which was rough and calloused.

“Name’s Michael. I’ll see you around most likely? Thanks again.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Amanda huffed again, nudging Michael’s shoulder.

“Let’s go hun, Bean Machine closes soon!”

“I’m comin’ I’m comin’!”

The two sauntered off, hand in hand. Trevor stood dumbly, watching them walk away. He was right. They did look good together. He wondered if he would actually see this Michael again, kicking a rock. He went back to the bench he originally sat at, putting his earbuds in, listening to some Crystal Castles again to pass the time. The beat thumped in his ears, and all he could think was how much better this shit was compared to that club music shit that played on every radio station in a 5 foot radius. He sat there, scrolling through his own secret nosedivr account, reblogging some photo of a lit cigarette. Right before a hand touched his shoulder causing him to jump.

“What the fuck- Oh. Ron.”

Ron was another friend of Trevor’s, a guy he had met outside one of the iFruit stores talking about how “they’re tapping the phones they sell in there!” and all that conspiracy nonsense. He was a paranoid guy, but Trevor kind of liked that about him. Those were the kind of freaks he liked. He was shorter than Trevor, sort of frail in stature. He wore a bright red windbreaker over a faded tourist tee that read “I went to Liberty City and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!”, along with khaki colored cargo shorts. It didn’t help that he wore some goofy looking bucket hat, and socks with sandals. He dressed like someone’s middle aged father.

“Trevor! Have you seen Wade around anywhere?”

“Last I checked, he was with Floyd.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Uh no, but my best bet is they went to that vinyl shop Floyd’s girlfriend works at.”

“Will ya come with me to find him?”

“Now why the fuck would I do that? What do you need him for?”

“Well I- I uh- um..”

“I uh! I uh! Spit it out Ron!”

“It’s about the Merryweather Night Club.”

Merryweather was a big organization that had a wide range of private clubs all over the country, and complimentary body guards to suit. They were all expensive as fuck, and anywhere they settled jacked up the prices of everything else. A lot of neighborhoods became gentrified as a result, and people actually considered it a good thing. What a fucking joke. Trevor of course couldn’t stand it. He hated bullies, and Merryweather was no exception. He’d been wanting to dismantle the club since they settled in LS, seeing as they only amplified the fake feel of the city. Let’s just say he’s gotten into more than a few scuffles with the club. And let’s just say it ended with someone getting stabbed as a result. The guy had it coming to him anyway. Between bouncers and the clubbers, they didn’t like Trevor or his kind loitering around the joint. It didn’t stop him from plotting some sort of revenge though. Ron per usual was on board, his reason being Merryweather’s violent history that had been swept under the rug. They were rather forceful relocating people who had lived in certain neighborhoods for years, Ron being one of their victims. Wade only decided to tag along because he wanted to be included.

“Ah fuck, what’d those bastards do now?”

“They’re throwing some big party!”

“…What fucking for?”

“All I know some guy’s coming to visit, somebody they labeled important and he’s-“

“Woah woah woah wait, Ron. Who?”

“Steve Haines.” He breathed out, careful not to be overheard.

Trevor’s eyes widened, his gaze shooting over to the posse he had poked fun of before. Steve was talking to the group, all of them doing that fake laugh they always did. God, even their humor was pretentious.

“Those fucking hipsters!” He hissed.

“I abhor them, you know that-“

“I know. I know. But, that Weston guy’s gonna be there with him-“

“Weston? Devin Weston?”

If Trevor hated hipsters, then he utterly loathed rich daddy’s money boys like Devin Weston. He had only gotten that stupid fucking night club because his father paid Don Percival enough money to let Devin do whatever he pleased with the Merryweather body guards. It was an elitist club, and they only allowed the best of the best in there.

“What the fuck’s going on there?”

“Something to do with those guys he hangs out with. I think they’re doing something major, expansion maybe-”

“And him and Devin are working together or..?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t hear much after that, that’s why I wanted to grab you and Wade and-”

“Then let’s fucking go get him, Ron!”

The two rushed out of there, heading for the vinyl store to look for Wade. Trevor knew a shit storm was coming, and he absolutely couldn’t wait.

//the next chapter’s gonna be longer i promise lolz

#gta v #grand theft auto v #michael de santa #trevor philips #young trikey #franklin clinton #lamar davis #lester crest #amanda de santa #steve haines #midnight city au

[meetthefantasticmrfox]

The Librarians

Summary: Jeremy Scalera (Jeremy sounds more natural than Janus...seriously who would name their kid Janus?! Sorry to anyone named that but you deserve better. JanICE does not count.) is the head librarian at Hawthorne Library and antisocial intellectual with a taste for being alone and silence. Logan Constell (short for constellation, not his actual last name in this fic) is strikingly similar. So what happens when these two antisocial and intelligent loners cross paths in an interview that was sure to change both their lonely souls.

Pairings: Loceit

Alternate Universes: Human Au, Vitiligo Au (Human! Janus Headcannon technically)

Warnings: Mentions of disabilities and a few mild swear words. A smidge of angst at the very end. Let me know if anything else needs to be added.

Hope you enjoy my dears!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Edit: Chapter 2 is here! The Librarians Chapter 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Hawthorne Library was run by a bitter and short tempered know-it-all named Jeremy Scalera...He was exactly 5 foot 3 and 120lbs with a thin frame and even thinner shoulders. His skin was the color of milk chocolate but his smooth sweetness of skin was interrupted by a clash of white splotches scattering his body. Jeremy had been born with vitiligo which resulted in a crude nickname of ‘Dairy Cow’ all the way through his middle school years. This influenced him to hide as much skin as possible using gloves, scarves, and extensive wool jackets and sweaters. This wasn’t entirely odd since at the time he had lived in Minnesota and it was freezing all the damn time. Now he lived in Florida where you either were sweating or shirtless.

“Please let this be a quiet day...” He muttered as the door to the library slammed shut behind him. 

It was exactly 7 ‘o clock in the morning and the library was in need of opening. Jeremy was the only employee of the library and he practically lived there. Sure he still owns an apartment and everything, but he prefers the guaranteed silence at night with the library. His office had a small cot in it with a bathroom and a small kitchen fridge and a few counter-tops to hold his microwave, sink, and single cabinet. 

Jeremy’s morning consisted of walking down to the RelativiTea coffee shop down the street that was operated by one of Jeremy’s old classmates. One who hadn’t mocked him because he himself had a disability, Roman Sancleur had turret syndrome (is that right?). Jeremy might have even considered him a friend had they ever talked to each other than exchanging a coffee order.

“Morning Jeremy.” Roman said out of reflex. His fingers twitched every now and then along with the skin under his eyes, but that was more on the fact that Roman had had no sleep last night because he was too busy drinking coffee and teas left over from the day before and watching Disney movies. 

“Just the iced chocolate mocha today.” The librarian sighed and leaned on the counter. He always got here early to avoid the morning rush. 

Roman set a drink onto the counter already prepared.

“You’re too predictable Jerry. Why don’t you ever shake it up a bit?” Roman leaned over the counter getting a little too close for Jeremy to like. No romantic signs came from the barista, more so curiosity.

“First of all don’t call me ‘Jerry’ please, and second I like consistency. This doesn’t take too much out of my paycheck from the city and it’s tasteful.” Jeremy hissed and put a five dollar bill on the counter as he always did. The drink was actual $2.73 but he didn’t ever like change so Roman always got a pretty generous tip.

Jeremy walked out of the coffee shop without another word and entered back into his solitary space just a block away.

The head-librarian set down his coffee on the horseshoe desk in the center of the library and the jingle of his keys echoed.

“I hope I’m not intruding.” A smooth voice laced with calm sounded behind Jeremy and he jumped.

“Mother of damnation who the hell are you?!” The librarian spun around and gripped his hand on the can of pepper spray he kept on him at all times.

“I-I suggest no hostility, and I advise you keep your voice down...we are in a library after all.” The stranger raised his hands in defense. “I’m sorry to have startled you, but the door was unlocked and I assumed you were in your office.” The man was oddly calm despite the can of pepper spray aimed at him and the clearly hostile look in Jeremy’s eyes.

“My name is Logan Constell. I came to apply for a job here.” The presumed ‘Logan’ folded his hands behind his back and only then did Jeremy begin to notice his features.

Logan wore tight black framed square classes, a smooth black dress coat and a navy undershirt with a star-flecked tie across and brighter blue fabric making up the tie itself. His shoulders were broad and his chin sculpted almost so finely one could mistake him for a statue if he had been gray. 

Speaking of gray, his eyes were a brilliant icy blue-ish gray that sparked with intelligence Jeremy had never seen before. Then there was his hair, pitch black it seemed to be made of the dark matter of space itself. The lightness at which it was folded back and not a single sign of gel or any other product other than a mint smelling shampoo and conditioner. He was so put together with his black slacks and dress shoes to top everything off.

“It doesn’t make much...” Jeremy said steadily despite the rushing feeling running through his veins. He set the pepper spray down next to his coffee and Logan began to approach him which with every inch closer the head librarian’s heart beat a little quicker until it was skipping.

“I have no one to provide for but myself and my hydroponics garden.” Logan stated and held forward a piece of paper with a series of qualification statements and columns.

“I don’t need a resume...I just need you to answer a few questions.” Jeremy quickly said and slipped behind his horseshoe desk. 

“I would be happy to answer them.” Logan said blankly.

“As I would hope.” Jeremy glanced up at him as he sat down in the old roller chair with a creak. 

“Age?” He started.

“Twenty-Three years, seven months, and fifteen days.”

“Are you organized?”

“To a fault some might say.” Logan replied cooly.

“Do you have balance well on a 14 foot ladder?” Jeremy shot back.

“I’ve never tried, but I have a high pain tolerance and have been reported a fast healer.” 

“Then you’re hired.” Jeremy rose from his chair and stuck out his hand. Logan took it in a firm grip that shot sparks through Jeremy’s arm and heat shooting up his face then he let go and the sparks vanished.

“When do I start?” Logan’s eyes held the slightest hint of joyous feeling but it was masked behind the gray and blue storm.

“The library opens in five minutes which should be enough time to get your tag done.” Jeremy offered a smirk which was met with only the slightest twitch of the others lips and the flicker of those eyes casting over the librarians face.

~Time Skip~

It’d been three weeks since Logan had started working at Hawthrone and every glance or movement seemed to attract Jeremy’s attention. He had considered going to see a doctor at this point but the Library’s salary and the fact Jeremy didn’t have insurance wasn’t exactly ideal.

“Good morning Jeremy.” Logan said one day as he walked in. 

“Morning Lo.” The other responded calmly. This was about all that was exchanged by them verbally on most days.

The first three days at the library Logan had worn a simple silver band on his ring-finger then it had disappeared. Today seemed like an okay day to finally question his new employee about it.

“So...I noticed you stopped wearing the ring.” Jeremy said casually one day as he stocked the shelves. It was closing time and Logan was better at checking back in books than Jeremy.

“What ring?” Logan asked blankly, barely glancing up at the brown and tan head librarian.

“The silver band you wore the first three days you were here.” Jeremy clarified.

“I didn’t think it had any significance to my work here.”

“It doesn’t.” The conversation fell quiet for a few seconds before one of them spoke again.

“If you don’t feel comfortable with telling me it’s fine. It was just a silly question worth a bit of satisfied curiosity.” Jeremy said hurriedly as he started to ascend the ladder. The book he had in his left hand belonged at the top shelf.

“No...it’s just I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable or loose this job.” Logan rushed out.

“Why would I fire you? Or feel uncomfortable?” Jeremy asked slowly as he reached the fifth level.

“Because that ring was my tie to my ex-husband.” Logan said quietly, barely loud enough for the man on the ladder to hear.

“Oh...” There was a pause with only the sound of clicking keys and the steps of Jeremy climbing the ladder. “Well that’s nothing to ashamed of. Some people just don’t fit.” He quickly said after an extended period of time that felt longer than it should have and he reached the top and began moving books around to shelve the one in his hand.

“You’re not...going to judge me?” Logan seemed surprised.

“Well no. Who you choose to love is not up to me, and it’s not like I have anything against gays or bisexuals or any of the LGBTQ community. I myself am apart of it.” Jeremy reassured him and started climbing down slowly. The ladder rings dug into his worn shoes and hit against his old socks, further sinking into the bottom of his feet.

“Fascinating.” Logan muttered. Jeremy pretended not to hear and as silence once again claimed the room the sun began to send a orange glow over the dark gray carpeted floors of the house of books. Jeremy looked up to see the tangerine and apricot that now spilled through the windows like a waterfall to a lake. 

Jeremy didn’t stop his descend though and his foot caught on a ring, but before he could notice he slipped and fell. All the way from the seventh level down to Earth and before he hit the ground something snapped and pain rocketed through his left leg as black crowded his vision. Nothing existed except the abyss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AAAAAAaaaaaand that’s Chapter 1. If this chapter gets some love or I get bored then I’ll check out getting a Chapter 2. 

Until next time my Foxlings! <3 <3 <3

#logan sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #loceit #human au #fanfiction #librarian au #vitiligo #LGBTQ+ #Ending in angst

[zoe-oneesama]

Serving up some LOOKS! I love Mylene's Ivan sweatshirt! Would you be willing to talk about what sort of style elements you use for each character? (If you already have and I haven't found it, please ignore the question, that's on me)

I mostly did this for Mendeleiev’s class back when Punch was starting Leave for Mendeleiev, and I did a small run down for how the Main 5 fashion will change in Scarlet Lady, but not Bustier’s class sooooo:

Marinette -[I’m copy/pasting from an earlier ask]- When she likes a color, she sticks with it. She has a versatile wardrobe, but pink must always be present. She has the hardest to nail style because she experiments all the time, but no matter what she doesn’t feel comfortable unless she has an outer layer. Summer, Winter, Shorts, Pants, she needs to the comfort of a jacket - for Tikki to hide in when her purse isn’t appropriate.

Adrien -[Also C/P]- Basic B*tch. He thinks he’s fancier than he is. Oh sure, his clothes are well tailored to him and fit well, but they’re basic as hell. Gabriel isn’t as “innovative” as he thinks he is. Most of his clothes have the Gabriel logo and he sticks to the brand…because Adrien has no fashion sense whatsoever. Oh, he knows in theory what works and can put an outfit together, but he doesn’t want to. If it were up to him, he’d wear tshirts with physics puns and cat themed jackets. But alas, when one is an icon…

Alya -[C/P]- Mom Vibes. Fashion is not her priority. She knows enough to do good for her figure, but otherwise can’t really be bothered. Flannels and jeans in varying heights and a snappy tshirt are all she needs. But she is drawn to things that remind her at least of superheroes or superpowers. Her ridiculous high tops with the spiky tongue? She thinks it makes her look fast. She’s also the one who’s going to embarrass Marinette by wearing trendy but “garbage” fashion: fanny packs, Jellies, ugs with sweatpants. Dammit Alya, you’re a beautiful human being, do you mind NOT dressing like a hobo on vacation?! (Secretly her favorite outfits are from Martinique, but she saves them for special occasions).

Nino -[C/P]- Precious trash goblin. Wash your shirts and the neckline won’t be so worn out! He likes graphic tees with his favorite bands and DJs logos on them (he’s partial to ones without the name of the band or DJ so he can find other fans) and prefers things to be loose. He’s also drawn to colors and he’s super chill when his “garbage” girlfriend rolls up to a date looking like she’s going to an amusement part with her four kids, because it means she can’t dump on him for not looking “put together” (she would never!). He’ll try to dress up every now and then for a fancier date or when Adrien manages to snag him a spot at an event with him, but it’s pretty clear he’s uncomfortable without his hat and headphones. He has a few Moroccan outfits that he brings out in the Summer.

Chloe - Expensive Fashion Forward Chic. She made a staple out of shaming anyone else who dared to wear her favorite color yellow over the years. She was extremely smug about being the first in her grade to experiment with makeup that she never bothered to get good at it. Her clothes are expensive with just a smidge of impractical - only someone with cash to burn would constantly wear white pants! She’s also the kind of person to put off dressing for the cold as long as she can- if she puts on all these jackets and layers, how will these peasants see my brand name clothes underneath?! A lot of her fashion decisions are based on long forgotten advice from her mother - gold over silver jewelry, always have something on your head, brand or nothing. She’ll only abandon a well worn trend if her mother directly contradicts it.

Sabrina - Nerdy, geeky, almost like she’s wearing a uniform. She’s preparing to be Chloe’s assistant best friend for life so she has to look the part. She’s long abandoned any hope of shining next to Chloe, so being flashy and showy is out of the question. Luckily, Chloe isn’t drawn to patterns, so that’s a field of fashion that Sabrina can claim for her own. Doesn’t matter where it is, something she’s wearing needs to have a pattern. Leggings are her favorite accessory and she’s taken to collecting Chat Noir merch (though it’s less out of admiration for the hero himself and more for her “role” with Chloe. It reminds her of the rare times when Chloe acts like they’re friends.)

Mylene - Bohemian, and a touch artsy. Peace is important to her and her vibe reflects that. She’s not super up for showing a lot of skin, but neither are a lot of girls in her class. She leans towards a muted color palette so that her hair doesn’t clash, though she usually tries to match one piece of clothing to some color in her hair. Her accessories are a bit childish and kitchy, like her monster head bead, and she has a huge collection of hair accessories, like bandannas and headbands. She has a lot of different passions with various levels of seriousness, so she’ll come to Marinette for advice on how to use her wardrobe to fit the level of professionalism she wants.

Alix - Sporty but on the lazier side. Fashion is such an anti priority. She’s the one Marinette will go to for her more out there ideas because she has no recoil to pants made of buckles or shapeless over shirts, but that’s as far as it goes. Her clothes are made to be weather resistant and easy to slip on (and so that her dad won’t be pissed if she wipes out and rips something). If it were up to her, she’d just shop out of thrift stores and pick out all the color blocked 80s windbreakers, but when your whole squad is held together by a fashion designer, you can only get away with so much. Her nicest clothes are made by Marinette for her professional races and competitions and her favorites have nods to Egypt mythology and history.

Ivan - Punk but like…beginners guide to punk. Let’s be honest, when you’re built like a brick house, shopping is hard - or at least not that much fun. Ditto when you’re a dude that just…doesn’t particularly care. Ivan has a bunch of cargo pants because they fit, they’re grungy, and they’re practical. SO MANY POCKETS!!! Beyond that, like Nino, he prefers to wear band shirts of his favorite groups. His hiking boots are the nicest things he owns and he has a few bracelets that he only brings out when he’s “dressing up”. The most colorful thing he owns is a hoodie/pants set from the Cartoon Monster Show that Mylene’s hair bead is modeled after.

Kim - Sporty and Serious. Sweatpants and running shoes. That’s the make of his wardrobe. After all, you need to be able to challenge anyone to a race at ANY TIME!! Dressing up for him means putting on a pair of jeans, and he’s pretty much always under dressed but also completely oblivious to the fact. Red is his favorite color and he’s partial to that one brand of sports wear that’s on his hoodie-shirt and sweatband. If something is waterproof (and therefore, sweatproof) he’ll give it a try AS LONG AS IT’S REEEEED!!!

Max - Geek Fashion. Max dresses like he’s already 65 years old, and with his best friend being Kim? He might be. He has invested in some good walking shoes because when your bestie is running off at any and every moment, you gotta do SOMETHING to keep up. His pants are higher up than most guys and his shirts are always tucked in. He prefers sweaters over sweatshirts and cardigans to jackets. We are comfortable in this house, not trendy!

Juleka - Electro Goth. Black is the main attraction, but she likes that punch of something neon - purple, green, even blue (Rose can tell she’s feeling romantic when she puts on some pink). She’s tall and likes clothes that accentuate that and she’s a fan of the details - shoulder cuts, lace inserts, epaulets. And despite covering half her face, she’s really into makeup (and she’s way better than Chloe). Does she have colored contacts? She’ll never tell.

Rose - Decora Kei is probably the best shortcut to describing her look, followed by Kawaii Fashion. Doesn’t matter if she burns to look at, she IS the embodiment of soft and cute! Obviously pink is her favorite color, bu she also likes pairing it with some other bright colors. Rainbows. Are. EVERYTHING. And she’s a sucker for bunnies and strawberries and angel wings ^^! How else is she supposed to have an amazing day if she’s not decked out in sunshine?!

Nathaniel - Basic but like Colorful Basic. He definitely hopped the skinny jeans phase and will continue to do so until he finally grows a bit. He holds onto clothes pretty long because there’s only so many times you can buy new shirts after getting paint and charcoal on them before you just stop caring. He aims for durability instead of fashionable, but also collects clothes with the logo from the show he likes. (And no one knows about his secret Ladybug merch collection that he only wears around his house).

Lila - Gyaru was the search term I used. She’s one of the few with a not super saturated color palette, sticking to dark neutrals. She’s drawn to patterns, like polka dots and zebra prints, and tries to balance it with neutral colors. Plus anything that makes her seem “exotic” and foreign and more interesting, she’ll wear (as long as it’s stylish enough for her.) She cleverly toes the line between fashionable and trashy, showing just enough skin or using a just flashy enough pattern. Every piece she wears she’s crafted a whole story around how she got it, like her bracelets being a gift from street kids in Belize or her earrings being a prize she won when impressing an East Asian Prince. 

#fashion #ask zoe #ml #miraculous ladybug

[vedj-f-bekuesu]

Ninjago Unpopular Opinions

Following on from my watch of the entire old series (combined with already having seen the last two series), I have enough material to work with to make a sort of unpopular opinion list. Some of these are lightweight, some of these are...uh, not so much. 

These aren’t in any particular order, this is more of a “I’ll just put them down as I remember them” sort of deal. That’ll be why they appear so messy. 

-Even after all this I prefer the newest seasons to the older stuff. There have been a surprising number of good to great older seasons, but I just love that hit of S1/S2 campiness with the more developed writing of later seasons. 

-Cole sucked as a leader, aside from in the pilot episodes. In the series proper he varied from complete meathead I hated (first part of S1), to having the same mentoring personality as everyone else (S1 - S2), to being consumed by the love triangle which made him pull a really shitty move (I don’t need to tell you what that refers to). He eventually gets ironed out in season 4, but Lloyd had already taken over as leader at this point. And rightfully so, even if Lloyd’s material got knocked from season 3 as a result. 

-I couldn’t really warm up to Ronin that much for some reason. I get the reason why he’s popular, since it was pretty obvious he was supposed to be like an off-beat mentor figure to Nya, but...I dunno, unlike with Dareth, it felt like his skeevy moments were more off-kilter, plus I didn’t really like his arc in Skybound (even if that was written out of reality). That being said, his was strong in Possession even with said moments. Maybe I just need a future appearance to see how I ultimately swing with him.

-I mentioned this in my Hunted overview, but I think Skylor’s just bland. Part of the problem is that she’s mainly just wedged in as an action girl and doesn’t have too many moments to interact outside of that. That’s mostly reserved for moments where she acts as Agony Aunt (which is fine, that shows that being supportive is in her nature), but she needs more to work with. And as an obvious offshoot, if Kailor is the intended endgame it sucks in its current form. They don’t have chemistry or a decent dynamic.

-The other Ninjago ship I don’t particularly like out of all of them is...actually Geode. Yeah, Rebooted obviously wasn’t good for it considering the love triangle, but what actually did more damage to it for me was Skybound. It went so far in trying to oversteer back that it beat you over the head with the fact they were making Cole and Jay best friends after said love triangle (made really obvious when Jay is worried about Cole’s reaction to him seeing Nya in his reflection in both Possession and Skybound, when Cole isn’t even phased when he’s told). It was just really off-putting.

-Jay is a better big brother figure to Lloyd than Kai. Yeah, Kai’s true potential moment in Rise of the Serpentine hinged on realising he (and the others, mind) were supposed to protect Lloyd, they all spent Legacy of the Green Ninja’s first half being Lloyd’s proper mentors, Zane’s death prompted Kai to hover with thoughts of the Green Ninja again (which seemed to me for different reasons to being envious of power at the start, although its handling was very clunky after that), and he had the first episode in Possession which was arguably the strongest showing of a dynamic with Lloyd, but Possession didn’t have much about it outside of said episode, and the show seemed to just forget it from that point beyond some very, very fleeting and sparse bits. In the more modern seasons, it feels like Jay’s stepped up to be more supportive of Lloyd on a more consistent basis (which would make sense with the common fanon that Jay is the youngest of the original Ninja, he’d be closer to Lloyd’s age). It’s something I kind of want tapped into in a proper way at some point.

-Sensei Garmadon is a bit overrated. Just a smidge. When he’s good, he’s good, but most of the time he’s no more interesting than Wu would be in the same position. And I feel like they didn’t really develop his fatherly bond with Lloyd too well despite that being what his character was there for. Again, aside from moments where he was really good.

-Most underrated season of the old batch for me was the last minute shock, March of the Oni. I did enjoy Day of the Departed (which has a worse reputation), but I can understand why someone wouldn’t like it considering how bare it was. March of the Oni is far from my favourite season but I thought it came together really well, so the fact it’s generally panned legitimately confuses me. I guess Hands of Time would be a contender too, but I think opinion on that has swayed in its favour after the new seasons came out (and Secrets of the Forbidden Spinjutsu would be here if I included the new batch) so that’s why it’s edged out. 

-Most overrated season for me was undeniably Tournament of Elements. It’s not my least favourite season, but Rebooted and Hunted are pretty maligned to begin with, while Tournament of Elements is usually considered one of the top ones. It starts strong, has an interesting premise and there are ideas that are executed well. The thing is that the elements that people tend to praise the season for are ones I actually think the writers dropped the ball on, hence why this ended up the toughest season to get to the end of, even more than Hunted. It’s a shame, but it’s just not for me. 

-Best ninja suits...honestly, I don’t really notice the suits unless they’re really bad, because I’m used to franchises where costume changes mark radical permanent redesigns, and are not just par for the course of the brand (it makes perfect sense with a toy brand who want to sell you the same characters over and over again but still). Not counting the S11 suits since they weren’t part of the old batch, I guess I’d honestly say the ZX suits, maybe? They’re simple, but they’re cute and very distinct. Also Sons of Garmadon Cole channelling the Movie costume was a very good move (and arguably looks even better ripped up in Hunted aethetically), and Kai’s suit was bleh in Sons of Garmadon but its overhaul in Hunted was way better. Also, just as a wildcard, Rebooted Lloyd looks like a more finely tuned ZX suit. Actually, just one last bit on a tangent to note a difference the show makes to the figures that demonstrates the figures’ limitations. For Kai and Jay’s S11 suits, their figures invoke similar feels (because underneath the accessories they do have a lot in common), whereas they feel very different in the show because while Jay sticks to the figure and looks snug, Kai has a lot exposed around the neckline, as if his gi is hanging loosely on the shoulders and should join Cole in the “For fucks sake it’s an ice realm wear a jacket please” club. 

-Worst ninja sui--what the hell happened to Cole and Nya in Hands of Time?! Nya’s main issue is that it’s trying to work too many colours and they just don’t mesh well. I think this was the time they were partially adapting the movie’s change, but they were clinging onto her having red to both represent Samurai X and her ties to her brother, but they should have just picked one or the other because it just doesn’t work the way it did in Skybound. And Cole’s outfit is just hideous. Its balance of colours and accents is all off-kilter, and to top it off the shoes just don’t work and somehow look like socks with sandals. I didn’t know that was doable with a whole suit. Finally, on a general note, I’m not a fan of when the suits are all very similar bar some very, very minor differences. One could argue that it makes them look more like a team, but I prefer the individual personality to come out. 

-It’s hard to judge the best and worst episodes, honestly. The seasons from Tournament of Elements onwards are done so tied to each other that picking an episode is rather difficult outside of designated finales (or the odd Jay-focused/Zane-focused episodes that happened in seasons 7, 8 and 9). I guess for best I’d say stuff like The Quiet One, or The Fall, or Grave Danger, or stuff like that would be up there. Worst episodes in those seasons are even harder, because usually it’s how arcs over episodes are written that get to me, not individual episodes.  This all being said, it’s much easier to do this with the more episodic first three seasons, and to that end I would still say that Tick Tock is my favourite standalone episode still, and Home is still my least favourite. For all the times the writing has dropped the ball, nothing has legitimately pissed me off more than what this episode did because it’s in its own category of bad writing. 

-There have been some concepts thrown in that, while they definitely wouldn’t work out in the long term, make for interesting snippets of what-ifs. Like, I loved the bit where Jay was a show host and got around the stage using his lightning powers. That seems like such a natural fit outside of his ninja identity I wish I’d thought of it. Imagine Bradley Walsh using lightning to get around the studio, that would be metal as fuck.

-On the other side of that coin, the bizarro Ninja are the single most overrated concept in the show. I don’t like Scourge the Hedgehog to begin with, but he at least had some efforts to make him unique (that fell flat, but eh). The bizarro Ninja are the equivalent of Evil Sonic; cliche and undeveloped. They’re not even useful for the cliche idea of framing the actual Ninja since even though they’re seen doing delinquent behaviour, this is never addressed. Heck Nadakhan was more effective with this idea. Thing is that I can’t blame the show at all for this. While the concept is naff, the show itself treats them as they actually were; Garmadon’s puppets and the scheme of the episode. Aside from bizarro Jay’s behaviour to Nya being full of unfortunate implications, there is no greater purpose for their existence, and the show never tries to do it again. It’s really the fans that have inflated their appearance in this case because I guess the idea of “take this nice character and give them an evil version” is just so appealing to the teenage demographic. Screw that, corruption is way more fun and interesting. 

-What I can blame the show for is the single worst execution of an idea, because to this point I still consider Kai’s green ninja “arc” in Tournament of Elements to be the single worst executed arc (yeah, even worse than the love triangle, but that one is still bad). The sad thing is it managed to convince me that it wasn’t such a bad concept when they explained it by being an offshoot of his depression following Zane’s death (before that I was very sceptical it could fit it in naturally after the last three seasons). But then it was used once when Skylor tried to get Kai to stab Lloyd in the back during the skating match (which Kai completely rebuffed and seemed over his depression-rooted negative vibes on Lloyd), and once more when he was overcome by the power of the staff. The latter is especially infuriating since this would have been the perfect opportunity for a character moment. Like, Lloyd and/or Skylor could have fought to get Kai out of the trance of the staff and see that his friends mean more to him than having power. It practically writes itself and is a perfect set-up. What happens instead is that Cole is technically the one to save Kai from himself as he rams the Roto Jet into the chamber and makes the rocky serpentine structure come crashing down on Kai. Maybe interesting to read into if you want a Lava reading of the show, but in that moment is just a wasted opportunity. Come on!

-Actually, also talking about other bad concepts, I don’t miss those weird energy dragons they could summon starting from Tournament of Elements. The dragons in Rise of the Serpentine/Legacy of the Green Ninja were fine because they had a logical reason for being there and actually were integrated into the plot (so you got to watch them being maintained and having moments with the ninja). The energy dragons in Tournament of Elements existed for one character as a plot thing (Zane’s, because he always had the good plots in the earlier seasons), but then everyone else suddenly could do it too and they became convenient plot devices and nothing else. Airjutsu I was more okay with because it seems more like a tool they’d use and could be integrated better, but I can also see why that stopped being used (outside of that one bit in Prime Empire).

-The Elemental Masters are both over-hyped and underdeveloped. The normal civilian cast really got the shaft once the series decided it wanted to explore this lore, yet the only ones I really got interested in in any way were the villain EMs and Karlof. And even Karlof is overlooked by the fandom, by the looks of it. 

-Jay actually came off the best in the Rebooted love triangle. He’s not entirely perfect, but he is essentially the biggest victim as a result of it in that season, and what Nya and Cole did either bordered on or was outright callous for different reasons. I think if people gave Jay the biggest shtick for Rebooted’s events, it’s influenced with how Skybound botched trying to patch it up. 

-The movie was a net positive influence on the show. Aside from me preferring the designs of the movie anyway, it forced the characterisation to actually pick a lane for each character and stick to it, mitigating a lot of the haphazard characterisation issues. The inconsistency in later seasons is tone instead, which is maybe why people thought the characterisation was inconsistent between Sons of Garmadon/Hunted and March of the Oni/SotFS (when really, they weren’t that different if at all). The show also made a good call in ignoring movie Zane’s characterisation; as much as I enjoy it in the film, it really didn’t gel up with what the show had done with him, so trying to force it in would have been more of a characterisation jolt than any of the early season stuff. 

-I’m generally fine with Jaya and Pixane. The former I can see why people would be off about it because there have been some badly written periods for them, but I think on the whole it manages to hold it together. The latter was written in surprisingly smoothly given the circumstances, so it’s no wonder I don’t see discourse about it. 

-Oh yeah, I don’t get Wu/Faith as a ship. Like, she was the cool drill instructor/aunt to everyone, including Wu. This is a quick one because it’s just a very small aside.

-Also I can’t really get behind Polyninja either. If the characters had a fairly even spread of interaction and moments between each other I could, but the spread ends up like lots of moments between Cole and Kai varying from little moments to huge dollops, and Cole and Jay having a whole best friends affirmation arc due to the fallout of the love triangle, to Kai and Jay having barely anything to work with and anyone with Zane getting a couple of table scraps occasionally. It’s not even enough.

-Following on from that though, Zane feels the least integrated with the group dynamic in general. He’s has some of the best plots and stories in the show, but nearly all of them have been focusing on him solo. And not even SotFS or Prime Empire helped with this one. Hopefully MoM can smooth this one out a bit. 

-Finally for this post, after going through all those seasons I still prefer Nya’s movie voice to her show voice by a significant margin. Sorry Kelly Metzger. 

I think that’s it. I’ve actually been on this for a week but I’ve been allowing time for more thoughts to come to me, because there have been a lot of thoughts coming in batches. I think I’ll leave it at this though, because I think most of it is covered pretty well.

I have at least two more text posts like this planned, but they’re not strictly about the old seasons so I’ve left them for after. I’m looking forward to them though, because they’re on specific topics and that is my bread and butter pudding. 

#ninjago #vedj-f talks #rambling is second nature to me #it's also my first nature

[broken-clover]

AU-gust Day 20- Single Parents (Late)

Well, this is an oof. Tis nice to be back from a break, though I wish I had done this on time. Main reason I didn’t just skip over this is that it’s supposed to be for Nana, since I know she’s having a bit of a rough patch. I know fics can only do so much, but even if it can help just a smidge, then I’ve succeeded!

So if that alone wasn’t obvious enough, this one’s a Daryl/Venom. It’s taken from an AU I’ve been working on for a while, I know it might be a little confusing without full context so if you have any questions on the Venomdad AU feel free to ask, I’d be glad to talk about it!

With one smooth flick of the wrist, Daryl flipped open his pocket watch to double-check the time out of the corner of his eye.

‘6:23 PM’

A few minutes late, but Daryl was a pragmatist, not an asshole. And he certainly wasn’t going to scold a busy single dad for showing up a little bit late for a date, he just hoped everything was going alright for him.

Daryl stood in place, flexing his hands before letting them rest back at his sides. He stood and watched the evening passers-by traversing through the park, though only at half-attention, not taking much note of the sound of passing footsteps until he noticed a set actually moving towards him, rather than around him.

“Daryl! You’re still here, I’m so sorry-”

“Mon chou!” Daryl greeted him with a bright smile and open arms. “Think nothing of it. I would never leave so early, I know sometimes time can slip away from us, it’s perfectly understandable.”

“Alright.” Venom still rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. “And I’m sorry I had to bring them along on date night, I know it was kind of out of nowhere but I couldn’t find a babysitter in time-”

“Venom.” He cut him off, reaching up to brush the hair out of his eyes with a smile. “You don’t have to apologize. Raising children can be difficult. And besides, if we’re dating, I should have met them anyway. I can’t just love you by yourself, it’s a package deal.”

That finally seemed to assuage his fears, though the sentiment was negated by a small hand swatting Daryl’s away with a sharp “no!”

“Ah- you’re Cass, aren’t you?” The Third King recovered quickly, putting on his warmest smile to the four-year-old currently giving him a rather venomous (hah) glare as she sat perched on her father’s hip. “Your father’s told me quite a lot about you!”

When glaring at him didn’t send the man fleeing, she thrust her nose up and turned away with a huff.

“I’m- I’m sorry, Cass has problems with me...meeting new people. She’s especially picky when it comes to who I date.” Venom appeared embarrassed with himself, for reasons Daryl couldn’t understand.

“Well, I suppose I’ll simply have to make a good impression!” Venom had told him plenty about Cass, so it wasn’t too much of a surprise. Daryl could certainly understand it, it made sense to have some degree of protectiveness for the person who saved your life as a baby...but he just wouldn’t have expected such an adamant sense of it from a toddler.

Daryl knelt down. “And you must be Eddie and Camilo, correct?” He said to the two boys clinging onto Venom’s legs. Like with Cass, he could tell who was who just from a glance based on their father’s stories about them. He extended a hand to the older of them, a neat-haired blonde with burn scars running up his arms. “I’m so happy I can finally meet you!”

“Hello, mister!” Eddie seemed a bit off-put by the stranger, but he still was willing to shake back with a stiff, slightly awkward hand. “Dad told us about you, too!”

“Ah, I hope they were mostly good things.” He offered another polite smile. “And Camilo, I hope we can get along!”

The second boy, older than Cass but younger than Eddie, didn’t greet Daryl, instead choosing to cling harder to his father’s leg and hide behind his shaggy, pale hair. He was the only one of them to not wear anything ‘dressy,’ but Daryl didn’t comment on it.

“Should we be heading over?” Venom asked, shifting Cass a little from where she’d begun to slide, making a little rumple in the side of his jacket. He looked remarkably handsome- though, to be fair, he always did- in a neat little ensemble done up with a tie.

“Of course, just one moment.” Daryl reached over to grab a paper bag that had been sitting by his feet. “When Venom told me you three would be coming along for dinner, I thought I should bring a little gift for you!”

And, as expected, Venom immediately blushed with embarrassment again. “D-Daryl, it’s alright, you didn’t have to-”

“But I did, so don’t worry about it.” The man first pulled out a simple wooden case, which he handed over to Eddie. “Here you are!”

“...A box?” The boy asked, turning it over in his hands. “I mean, it’s a pretty box-”

“Look inside.” Daryl nodded patiently. “That’s the gift.”

“Inside? What’s it gonna- ah.” His eyes almost seemed to double in an instant. “AH!” Eddie squealed with joy, making Camilo wince and cover his ears. “Just like dad’s!”

“Venom told me you’ve been wanting to practice billiards, too.” Said Daryl. “I thought it would be best to get you a set more suited to someone a little smaller.” He gave Eddie a little pat on the head, and reached for something else. “Camilo, how about you next?”

The other boy remained far less enthusiastic, shying away from Daryl as he tried to talk to him. But like with Eddie, his demeanour quickly shifted when he saw his present.

“F-f-froggy!!”

The man chuckled as Camilo immediately mushed his face into the fat frog plushie, droning and bouncing on his heels. “I know you love frogs. Venom said they’re your favorite! I didn’t feel safe getting you a live one, but I hope this one is good enough?”

“Ah, froggy.” Came the reply, muffled by fabric. “Hnn…”

“That means ‘thank you.’” Venom said, looking plenty pleased himself. “A good choice.”

Daryl nodded again. “I tried to find a soft one, I know you said textures sometimes give him trouble. And finally, for you, Cass.” He didn’t even attempt to touch her, but simply held her gift out in her direction. “Your father tells me you like, erm…’borrowing’ his clothing? So I assumed, ‘there’s nothing wrong with wanting to look your best,’ so I thought I would get you something a little more suited for you. I hope it’s alright?”

“Oh, Cass, look!” Venom took it for her, holding the little tie up where she could see. “Just like mine! But it won’t be so long on you.”

“I bought a couple of each kind, there’s clip-ons and just normal ties, I wasn’t sure which she would prefer.” Daryl rooted through the bag for a minute before simply handing it over to Venom. “But still, I hope she likes it.”

Cass said nothing, but grabbed at the tie until Venom gave it to her. With clumsy little fingers, she managed to clip it to the front of her blouse, though slightly askew.

“Don’t you look handsome.” Venom beamed. “They’re all lovely gifts, Daryl. What do we say, kids?”

“Thank you Mr. Daryl!”

“Thanks…”

“Froggy!”

It seemed just a tad funny to him how, despite being adopted, they all shared a feature or two with their father. Eddie had his eyes (though a bit muddier), Camilo had his hair (though much more unkempt) and, though Cass was still so young, some of her facial features still had a remarkable resemblance.

“Of course! Think nothing of it. But don’t go assuming I left you out at all, mon chou.” From an inside pocket of his cloak, he pulled out a single blue rose, thorns trimmed away, and moved to tuck it into Venom’s hair. “I suppose not the most extravagant floral arrangement possible, but I hope dinner will make up for it?”

Goodness, Venom was rather blushy tonight. Daryl found it utterly adorable. “And of all the ways I was worried about tonight going wrong…”

"If anything does go wrong, we’ll figure out a solution together.” With Venom’s free hand preoccupied in covering his own flushed face, the king took it upon himself to tuck the flower neatly behind his ear. “It compliments you perfectly, my love.”

“Daryl…” Venom took his hand before it could move away, holding it against his cheek.

“Yes?”

“Just- you…” He tried to find his words. “I suppose, just...thank you.”

Daryl found his face drifting closer to his partner’s, not too fast but not too slow, carefully tilting his head just so in a way that let their faces meet-

A small slap to the cheek knocked him away, and Daryl was met with another little scowl. “No!”

“I suppose Cass has decided it’s dinnertime.” Despite the twinge of disappointment in his expression, Venom still smiled and gave her a pat on the head. “So, shall we be going?”

“Of course, of course.” Daryl began leading the four of them across the park to a building on the other side. “I’ve told you about this place already, haven’t I?”

“Yes, you have. Though I wasn’t able to find out its menu beforehand.” The former assassin sighed. “Let’s just hope, for all of our sakes, that they offer chicken nuggets.”

#Venomdad AU #writing #guilty gear #venom #Third King Daryl #Darylveno

[andlovedaresyou]

Ruining Your Heartline (Part II)

Adam… doesn't really know what he's feeling. He hopes he's not in love. He shouldn't be.

He tries to push this feeling- this… crush (which is the most he can ever label it) to the back of his head. There's a number of reasons why he shouldn't dwell on it, and he can't think too much about them or else his chest aches.

And he hates it. He hates feeling like this. They have a tour to do, for fuck's sake. The last thing he needs is falling for- No, having a stupid, little crush on Brian May, who's also in a happy relationship that he can't bear to fuck up. 

He finds himself dropping his gaze whenever he spots them together. When they lock gazes and smile so softly, when Roger drops a teasing joke and Brian's cheeks flush a shade of red deeper than what two bottles of tequila can bring in one night. 

It isn't jealousy. But there's something, and he'd rather push that something away and actually focus on the important things. 

A part of him hates singing Love Kills, hates even thinking about that song because that's where all this internal mess began. But he can't. He can't look Brian in the eye and throw away all the work they've done. The potential hurt in his eyes would sting more than if Brian found out why.

So, Adam does what he needs to do. He gives that song his all, sings it like his heart is being torn apart, inch by inch, because it is. It's pulling him somewhere he doesn't want to go, and all he can do is stand and try not to give in. 

He can only look at Brian for just a few seconds when he sings. He's afraid he'll give it all away if they lock gazes for too long. Throughout the entire number, Brian smiles at him with so much pride in his eyes, and he just doesn't know.

The rest of the show still brings him so much joy. Each audience is electric. They sing along to every word, clap and stomp to each beat. He loves doing this. He loves seeing the joy and the spark in Brian and Roger's eyes as the crowds cheer their names. That is what matters to him the most. To help them fulfill their dream of rocking the world again, to find new life. 

They're staying at a hotel in Houston when he gets a knock on his door. 

It's early in the evening, too late for any housekeeping, and he hasn't ordered anything. When he looks through the peephole, he finds Roger standing in the hallway. 

"Care for a drink or two?" Roger grins once Adam opens the door, brandishing a tall bottle of tequila. 

"You know I'm having more than two when you bring that in." Adam points at the bottle. He hasn't tasted this brand before, but he knows it's expensive. Worth just a smidge of decades of royalties. And the drummer's always had a sharp eye for great tequila.

Adam leads him to the couch before he picks up two shot glasses next to the mini fridge.

"Where's Brian?" He asks as he takes the empty cushion next to the drummer. 

"He's off at NASA, delivering a talk on zodiacal clouds and whatnot." Roger uncorks the bottle. He reaches over and fills Adam's glass first before his own. "Leaving me alone for the next few hours."

"So you decided to come and find me." Adam crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes for a jokingly suspicious look.

Roger huffs. "Is there harm in wanting some company?" 

They're both joking around, but Adam can't help but soften his voice as he answers earnestly. "Not at all." He raises his glass. "To… company, I guess."

Roger clinks their glasses together. "To company." 

They lean back and drink up. Adam closes his eyes, savoring the taste and the growing buzz. This tequila is definitely worth those few extra zeros on its price tag.

Drinking at a club or a bar is different. The huge number of people around is overwhelming, a good feeling if you want to have an energizing, good time. But Adam likes the quiet moments, when you drink to unwind and only unwind, preferably with someone else. He doesn't remember feeling this level of relaxation ever since they started the tour. 

Roger finishes his shot with a sigh. He turns to Adam. "Want another one?"

"Sure, thanks. I did say I'm making it past two."  

Roger pours the bottle, but this time there's a small frown on his face. One of concern. 

"You know, I didn't just show up here because I felt lonely." He looks Adam in the eye as they take another shot. "I also wanted to check up on you, see how you were feeling."

See how you were… feeling? Adam's heart starts to race. "About what?"

Roger's frown only deepens. He sets his glass down. "Just… If something's on your mind, bothering you or anything like that, I'm willing to lend an ear."

Adam pauses. His gaze drifts to Roger again, to his attentive, blue eyes. Roger has probably noticed the moments where he lets his guard down. When he's busy dealing with all the turmoil in his head. And whether or not Roger knows, it's nice to see that he looks out for Adam.

"It's stupid." He says after a while, burying his face into his palm. "A stupid, crazy little…" 

Roger furrows his brows. Then he gently finishes, "Thing called love?" 

Adam lets out a hollow laugh. There it is again, that stupid, little word. "I can't call it that. I shouldn't." 

"And why not?"

"I…" His gaze falls to the bottom of his shot glass, a small drop left swirling around and around. "I'll fuck everything up." 

The cushion beside him creaks. A hand settles on his back.  Adam closes his eyes. God, Roger has no idea. "He's happy. And I don't want to ruin that, to ruin our friendship- I'll ruin everything if I say it." 

Something wet splatters on his glass, followed by another on his lap. It isn't the amber color of tequila- It's clear, the color of tears. He's crying. His chest is aching again. 

A gentle hand takes the glass from his grasp. Then it settles on the back of his head, pulling him close until he's sniffing into Roger's shoulder. 

He's crying over Brian, in the arms of the very man who loves him. 

But he can't stop. Roger's arms are warm and comforting, his voice so soft and soothing in his ear as he whispers "It's alright, just let it out." Something familiar and warm is settling in his chest, carving out a space amidst the pain, and he leans into it. 

A moment of silence passes before he lifts his head back up, sniffling and rubbing at his eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have dumped all that on you." 

"Hey, I told you I'm willing to lend an ear." Roger rubs his shoulder. "We should put a pause on the tequila, for now."

"Yeah," Adam nods. "It sucks I never made it past two." 

A soft chuckle. "Next time." 

He secures the cork back on the bottle, and he hands Adam a few napkins on the table. 

"Want to get some fresh air?" He adds. "I know a spot." 

"I don't know if I can walk across the street, Roger."

"We're not leaving the hotel." Roger points a finger at the sky. "Just taking an elevator."

Adam smiles softly. "Okay, let me get my keycard." 

He pockets his keycard, his phone. Two shots of strong tequila isn't that bad, but all his sobbing earlier has left him slightly exhausted. Not enough for him to refuse Roger's offer.

When he turns to face the door, he finds Roger with an outstretched hand, a small smile on his lips. Adam rests his palm over his, clasping their fingers together, and off they go down the quiet hallway. 

Adam wonders if anyone in security looked through the cameras and saw two musicians giggling as they entered an elevator. He leans against the railing as Roger presses the button for the rooftop. 

There's silence. A thumb rubs soothing circles on his hand, and Adam can't help but smile. They don't let go for the entire ride. 

The doors slide open with a ding. Roger leads the way again, and a cool wind brushes past them. He's glad he brought a jacket, but none of that matters right now. 

They make their way to the railing at the edge of the building, where the traffic headlights blink below them and the stars shine above. He lets the cool wind flood into his nose. It's beautiful. 

"I started doing this back in '74." Roger's eyes follow the slow, Houston traffic. "Brian was still in the hospital, and all we could do was wait. So I got to the rooftop and I just…" He sighs. "I hated myself." 

Adam turns to him with a frown. 

"For being in love with my best mate, for not telling him I was in love with him. It was, um- It was complicated." He lets out a chuckle. "I couldn't deal with it with all the stress and just the smell of a hospital, and this place was quiet. I could be alone. And… I finally stopped holding myself back." 

He looks at Adam, and Adam can't bring himself to turn from those eyes. "I just let myself feel, instead of bottling it all up and distracting myself with excuses. I finally… accepted it, I suppose. I allowed myself to miss him, to want him."

Adam nods and wraps an arm around him, offering his own comfort, this time. And he continues, blinking a few tears away. "So whenever we're apart, like now, I just find the rooftop and think about him. I wonder how he's doing, I wonder what we'll do when he gets home…" He rubs at his nose. "Well, of course, I'm not saying we're going through the same thing. I just wanted-" 

Adam wraps his arms around him and squeezes tight. 

He buries his nose into Roger's soft hair as Roger's hands slide across his back and hold him close. He lets himself feel. He stops pushing it all away, stops blaming it on desperation, on stupidity. There's nothing to blame. And he starts asking himself all the questions he'd sidestepped.

Why am I stopping myself from being in love? Because... he's not the only one.

Why does it hurt when I look at them together? Because I want both of them holding me.

He wants Brian and Roger, both of them. They're kind, they've always looked out for him, always let him be himself. Being around them charges him with a different kind of electricity, one he hasn't felt in a very long time. 

He loosens his grip around Roger's shoulders, takes a step back. Roger's hands stay at his waist, and he doesn't mind it, not at all. 

"Did that help?" Roger sounds almost shy, unsure. Adam has never seen this side of him before. 

"Yeah, I… feel a lot better than I used to." He nods. "Thank you, Roger. This really means a lot."

The smile returns to Roger's face. 

Adam is in love, and he doesn't know what to do.

#andlovedaresyou writes #maylorbert #ruining your heartline

[rayroute-clear-saeran-text-sound]

Saeyoung’s Girl (707 x MC x Saeran)

I really wanted to participate in Choi Sandwich Week! So, I guess this is my contribution. This is from Saeran’s POV by the way. It’s a bit short, but I hope you still appreciate it anyway :)

@choisandwichweek

Day 2: Nostalgia/Jealousy

My lips tugged slightly upward, painting a slight smile onto my face. Giggles spilled from MC’s lips, her hand almost useless in muffling her laughter. I felt a small warmth spread evenly through my chest, sprouting from the pride I felt at being able to make her laugh like that. I did that. Sure, she was amused by Saeyoung’s jokes as well, but there was a hopeful voice in the back of my mind that told me she laughs with just a smidge of a higher intensity at mine. Some cheesy romcom was droning on in the background, which happened to be the subject of my apparently hilarious mockery. Saeyoung was out for whatever reason, which I was okay with. The truth is, I prefer being alone with MC. She helps me relax and become comfortable, because she treats me like I’m normal, not some broken doll being pieced back together, which is how everyone else seems to see me.

“God, Saeran...you’re going to kill me one of these days.” MC spoke as she clutched her sides, trying to regain her breath. Her arm shot out as she aggressively ruffled my newly ginger locks, which I pretended to hate. 

“Oh, you’re asking for it now.” I made my voice as gruff as possible, coaxing pearls of laughter from her mouth again. Whatever random movie forgotten, I initiated an all out assault of pokes, tickles, and hair tussles. 

“Okay, okay! Truce!” MC’s words drifted out between gasping breaths as she halfheartedly shoved me away from her. A soft smile still brightened my face as I slumped back against the couch, training my eyes back on the TV screen. “Geez, you know that Saeyoung doesn’t believe me when I tell him what you’re like when he’s not home?” Without thinking, the smile was wiped from my face at the mention of my brother. “You don’t have to answer, but why are you so different when he’s home?” I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to look uninterested.

“Past trauma, I guess.” She nodded, honey brown eyes moving back to the television as well. Deep down, I knew that wasn’t the true explanation anymore. It might have been at a time, but not now. Not that I knew the reason, because I really didn’t. It was something I just couldn’t quite put my finger on. Not that it mattered. We sat in silence for a moment, the romcom still weaving its way to our ears, albeit in vain, since the only thing we were listening to was our respective thoughts.

“I’m proud of you, you know.” My gaze found hers, and as it did, I saw that she meant every word. Just like that, that warm feeling spread again. This time, it covered more than just my chest, and it seemed to flood all the way from my ears to my toes. It was a strange feeling that was uncomfortable at first, but as it happened more often, it morphed into something pleasant that I began to cherish. The feeling was similar to the one I used to get whenever Saeyoung would sneak me outside as a kid, but that still wasn’t quite right. I was wrenched out of my thoughts by the door swinging open and Saeyoung’s loud greeting.

“I’m home! And guess what, I brought a surprise!” I rolled my eyes at his stupid over excitement, cynical about whatever was in the plastic bag he was holding. He trotted jollily over to the couch, diving in between me and MC, squishing me against the arm of the couch.

“Hey, watch it!” I spat, feeling animosity seep into me again, which made me more angry. I didn’t want to be spiteful to him, I wanted to love him again. It was why everything was so frustrating. 

“Anyways, what have you got there?” MC asked, voice so sweet it almost made me sick. Grinning wildly, Saeyoung brought out a box of frozen treats. Ripping open the box, Saeyoung pulled three out, passing them around to us. I stared at it, memories seeming to dance in the dessert in my hand. The blue double popsicle would mean nothing to MC, but it meant everything to my brother and I. 

“I was out getting gas, and while I was doing that, I got to thinking...I promised you that we would get to have another ice cream together, but it was something that I didn’t fulfil.”

There were a lot of promises you didn’t fulfil... I thought, knowing he was thinking the same thing. This was his way of making things right, one step at a time. 

“So, naturally, I decided to pick some up on my way home!” He had a goofy grin plastered on his face, although there was something else there. Through twin telepathy, or whatever you want to call it, I could tell he was nervous about if I would accept his way of mending fences. I continued to stare at the sweet treat in my hand, ice crystals melting away from the smooth surface. 

“You’re an idiot.” Despite the attitude, my grumble soon gave way to a chuckle as I bit into the dessert.

“Dear god, I got a laugh out of him! MC, it’s a miracle!” He looked as if he was genuinely about to tear up. I tuned him out as I let the taste wash over my tongue, memories bubbling up to the surface. The most prominent one was the pinky promise that we would escape our mother and be together forever. I suppose in some roundabout way, we did end up together, and we most likely will stay that way. “I’m so happy, you know that?” Saeyoung seemed to be addressing both of us, but I knew better. Now he was talking directly to MC, snaking his free arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him. My skin prickled as he did so, intensifying when he leaned in for a kiss. Getting caught up in the moment, he moved his hand to her hair, tangling it in her long brown strands while deepening the kiss. I turned away, biting deep into the frozen treat with my sensitive teeth when MC sighed in delight against him. 

“Gross, guys. I’m right here...” My voice trembled, and I cursed the tightening sensation in my chest. If they heard me, they didn’t care. MC giggled as he blew raspberries onto her neck and collar bone, and instead of its usual musical quality, it sounded shrill to my ears. Suddenly, the half-eaten ice cream I was holding didn’t taste very good. I stood up as MC began to slip his jacket off, heading to my room in long, fluid strides. As I passed the kitchen, I dropped the unfinished treat unceremoniously into the trash can. 

Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with me? I dragged my hands down my face as I flopped back onto my bed. The door was shut tightly, but choruses of laughter drifted in regardless. My breath caught in my throat as I was finally able to put a name to this feeling.

“Jealousy...” I mumbled aloud, trying the word on for size. I was jealous of my brother. I had never been interested in women, or men for that matter, so my harbored feelings for MC caught me off guard. Of course, the one girl I had ever wanted was unavailable. This envy was only pushing me further back in my efforts to forgive my brother.

She’s happy with him...you want her to be happy, don’t you?  For once, my inner voice was being rational and reasonable rather than self-deprecating.

“Tch…” It was painfully ironic how it all worked out. I brought her to the RFA, and she went and fell in love with my twin. I’m not a child, though. If she is truly happy, then fine. I’ll support them as much as my heart allows, because MC deserves it. I would give her the world if I could, and I know for a fact that Saeyoung would do the same. A bittersweet smile worked its way onto my face, and I felt myself relaxing against the mattress. She may be Saeyoung’s girl, but that doesn’t mean I still can’t dream about her. As far as I’m concerned, diving into a dreamland where she could be mine was a better alternative to painful and twisted nightmares. I would take the imaginary relationship any day. 

Why do I have to love you this way?  Tracing circles onto my chest to comfort myself, I felt surprisingly contented. 

“God, what I wouldn’t give for you to be Saeran’s girl...” I chuckled lowly, glad no one was there to hear my sappy mumbling. My breathing fell into a slow and easy rhythm as I began to doze off into a happy slumber, a world where anything was possible, including having the girl of my dreams.

#choisandwichweek #saeyoung choi #707 #luciel choi #saeyoung x mc #luciel x mc #707 x mc #saeran choi #saeran x mc #choi twins #choi twins x mc #mystic messenger #mysmes #mystic messenger fanfiction #mysmes fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #choisandwichweek2k19 #choisandwich

[ivyveil]

Don’t Leave, Stay

the one where Y/N fears that Harry only wears Gucci, Harry can actually cook, and Nick is growing more creative in his match-making

A/N: This is a continuation of my series Saint Nick (found here) and it isn’t necessarily to read them all but it helps!

“Hello, love,” he welcomed her in, one arm outstretched for a hug as the other rested on the door. He looked cozy, socked feet resting against his hardwood floor as the edges of his striped pants grazed over them, making only his toes visible.

As Y/N stepped inside his flat, she immediately picked up on the smells of a home-cooked meal, the type that took her back to days of her childhood – that sense of spice, warmth, and the sounds of sizzling foods. She was invited to a ‘dinner party’, to put it formally, between Harry and Nick; although she had not quite met Harry yet, they had all been placed in a group message by Nick and had sort of met by those means. She wasn’t entirely sure why she had been included in the plans but didn’t particularly mind, Nick was a close friend and Harry seemed nice.

Even though she and Harry had texted a fair bit, Y/N still felt like a walking bundle of nerves, plus some. She hadn’t known what to wear to Harry’s, interpreting from the memes Nick flooded the group text with that Harry had an eclectic, and expensive, taste in fashion. An hour before, she had tried phoning Nick to figure out his approach, to try and model her own after his.

Nick hadn’t picked up, though, and it had eventually neared the time that Y/N had scheduled to have a car come by to drive her to Harry’s. So, in a fit of panic and using what outfits she already mentally knew worked, Y/N opted for a pair of black jeans, buckled belt, and a cream sweater, figuring it was enough like the rest of her newfound London squad to be acceptable for a house dinner.

On her way out, dashing quickly to lock her door and stuff her key in her purse, Y/N had one quick taste of the bitter winds before realizing that – nope, a jacket was necessary. Praying her Uber wouldn’t be upset by a few seconds of tardiness, Y/N stumbled inside and grabbed an oversized gray coat, bundling herself up on the walk to the car.

Harry had removed this jacket from her shoulders as she took in his foyer, as small as it was considering he was in a flat and not his own property. She didn’t know the specifics as to why he wasn’t in his publicly-known home, but figured it had to do with privacy, needing time away, or some other celebrity-related reason.

Y/N thanked him, Harry nodding back before hanging it up in his coat closet. Y/N took the opportunity to look at the photos lined on the shelves nearing the living room. There were wooden shelves, barely varnished, with black curls extending from the edges of the bottom to the wall, securely fastened in with black nails. Various frames littered the surface, some photos lay naked without a hard border, while others were stacked in the corner. Handwriting was visible on the bottom of a few pictures.

“My family,” Harry pointed out a white frame showing a row of people with similar laugh lines, enjoying a brunch on someone’s grassy patio. Next to it was a stream of Polaroids, some with dates hastily written along the bottom, others with random words scrawled along the sides. Some of the locations Y/N recognized, such as the Eiffel Tower at night, or the local bar that was down the street from her flat (in that one, Nick had stuffed a large burger in his mouth and giving the camera two thumbs-ups.)

“Random mo’ents, the simple ones,” Harry explained, running his fingers through his hair and gently pulling at the roots. His hands rested on his hips as he sternly looked over the photos with Y/N, as if criticizing their placement. She continued to survey the photos, nodding at Harry to sign that she had heard.

It seemed quaint, in a sense of the word, how none of the pictures were related to his wild successes or rich endeavors. Granted, the traveling was a sign of doing fairly well, but nothing screamed ‘I’m a millionaire.’ A few were random nature shots, predictable for an amateur photographer (at least, she figured that was what Harry was trying to accomplish), while others were of other celebrities – but in natural places, natural poses, without any facade distinguishing them as someone apart from society. There were as he saw them: people.

Harry seemed a bit flustered. He stood far enough from Y/N for it to be considered polite, considering their status as almost-strangers, but not quite alienating her from his deemed bubble space.

“Is Nick not here, yet?” Y/N moved on from the photos, shifting her purse down her arm, grasping the strap and placing it down on the side table next to a vase of sunflowers.

Harry shook his head, turning away from the photo wall as well.

“He said he might be late, had somethin’ come up,” he shrugged, gesturing to the open doorway of the kitchen and stepping to the side to allow her to go through first. She took the hint, moving swiftly from the foyer into his cooking space and looking at the mix of vegetables, sauces, and spoons scattered along the countertops. The smell grew stronger, nicer, fuller, and her stomach growled lowly in response. It must have taken a few hours, at least, to have prepared everything and set it up – Y/N felt the slightest twinge of surprise echo in her gut. He seemed to have gone all out for a dinner together. She hoped Nick would show up soon.

While Harry got back to work shifting and shaking some pots and pans, leaning low to check on the oven, Y/N sat down on a rustic barstool by the raised countertops, clasping her fingers together and resting against the marble. He had some music playing, low, through a fancy stereo system that seemed partially ingrained into the flat itself. A candle or two sat on the countertop near Y/N, although neither were lit. The kitchen smelled heavenly already though, so it wasn’t likely they would be needed.

“Didn’t know if yeh were vegetarian or somethin’, so I made a quinoa…type of thing,” he eyed the oven, as if wary a bloody cow would squeeze out of the door.

“Ah, I try to be when I can, but it’s not a permanent diet,” she hummed, leaning forward a bit on her elbows. Harry nodded, still glancing at the oven as he continued cooking some of the veg. A few containers were already out on the table around the bend from the kitchen, one bowl full of bread and another, smaller in size, holding the spread.

His flat was a bit on the chilly side, cold licks along the holes of Y/N’s sweater and the air vibrating with the kick-in of his heater. It was cozy, blankets were strewn along the couch in his living room, but Y/N felt it wasn’t the time to wrap herself up comfortably in a burrito-esque shape.

Silence extended itself, only a smidge unwelcome, along the two people in the flat. Harry continued cooking, seeming in his element – but yet, aware that the conversation had reached a natural, but strained, standstill. He wasn’t sure where Nick was, and debated texting him for the fourth time, making sure his best friend was actually coming. He wouldn’t put it over Nick to have forgotten, to have gone out with other friends and end up in an art gallery that took away his phone so he could properly ‘drink in’ the experience.

“So,” Harry started, feeling the obligation lay mostly on him for being the Host, “-you’re workin’ at a juice company?”

Y/N nodded, reaching back to pat her hair and make sure no strays had gotten tangled. It was a good job, the concepts she worked with interested her a great deal. If there was something LA kids liked, it was their juice. The blends she assisted on manufacturing were pretty alright, too, if she said so herself. Y/N attempted to live healthy when she could afford to, but more often than not she preferred buying a salad, wrap, or other actual food as opposed to a juice. Smoothies, even, would catch her attention more than strained apples. So, her work was pleasant and intriguing but left her wanting in regard to being fulfilled, it had no impact she felt she could feel in her own, individual path of life.

“Yeah, I’m just helping out with a few advertising campaigns. I try to freelance but tend to get roped into larger projects, spend more time at their offices than I planned on.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, before standing up and stepping away from the barstools. She rounded the counter, nearing the kitchen, flashing a wary smile when Harry noticed her coming closer. She held out a hand for the spoon he was stirring a sauce with, and he shook his head, a smile toying at the corners of his lips.

“No, ma’am,” he said quietly, holding the spoon further away from Y/N, “-yeh’re the guest here. I’m the chef,” he nodded for emphasis, the cheeky grin taking over his face. His eyes scrunched a bit when he couldn’t help the smile, Y/N noted, and his nose crinkled slightly.

“I want to help, Harry. You made fun of my macaroni skills last week, I’ve gotta prove myself.”

This was true – when Y/N had suffered a particularly bad day, she had texted a photo of her TV dinner in front of her TV as she was binge-watching Breaking Bad, to which her boys replied:

(Nick Harry Y/N)

Not impressed. Harry can cook much better.

I wouldn’t say MUCH better but I know how to use more than a microwave? x.

See? Got miles on Y/N already.

Ah I bet that’s not true. x.

Wow fuck off both of you, I’m sad and this WASN’T THE SHOW TO WATCH OH MY GOD NICK WHY DIDN’T YOU WARN ME ABOUT HTIS EPISODE

Uhhhh it got your mind off work didn’t it??? Sheesh, talk about ungrateful.

Harry snorted, shaking his head at the memory, and handed her a spatula without another word. She shifted over to the other side of the stove, checking out the progress Harry had made with the various pans set up along the surface. It would be plausible to assume she missed Harry’s glance over, how it lingered on her face and hesitated a second too long before turning back to the potatoes.

But if her reddened cheeks were anything to go by, she hadn’t.

“I didn’t know what to wear, thought you might’ve opened the door in some bright blue Gucci suit,” she confessed, as a song came on she recognized. Y/N bopped her head to it casually as she cooked, snatching a stray teaspoon and trying the sauce.

She stopped the groan from her lips before it had time to manifest; Harry was a fucking good cook. Harry seemed to notice her holding back, and bit back another laugh.

“Nah, that’s Harry Styles, love. Just Harry, now.”

She imagined some jazz hands when he said his full, ‘stage’ name, feeling the emphasis on the word, like it was a performance of the pieces of himself willing to be put on display. Harry Styles basked in the audience’s cheers, feeding them back the same energy and granting himself the opportunity to take advantage of feeling on top of the world.

“What’s the difference, if you don’t mind me asking?” She turned off the heat on the pan, as Harry also killed the fire for his. He seemed preoccupied fiddling with the oven’s knobs, letting the ‘quinoa thing’ cool inside. It took a while before he answered. Some questions couldn’t be given a voice to right away, especially when it was as massive as identity, which Y/N definitely understood. She had never been forced to respond to the world with who she was, only her parents and a few concerned friends. The pressure of being so well-known was unfathomable to her.

“’M Harry all the time,” he began, a brief silence interrupting his explanation as he crossed the room to fetch some oven mitts to pull the dish out. The heat radiated outwards from the open oven, warming up his cheeks a bit more than they were naturally.

Not wanting to interrupt him, Y/N just hummed appreciatively when she smelled it; Harry was a really fucking good cook.

Her stomach growled again,

“On stage, or at interviews, or whatever, ’m Harry Styles, which is still me,” and he turned from setting the dish down to search in her eyes, for a foundation of understanding, or perhaps the lurking suspicion that he was crazy. Either one he anticipated, the concept still confused him, himself. He pulled off the oven mitts, setting them down on the counter as he thought his next few words carefully.

“’Ve gotta separate the two, but Harry is like…all-encompassing me, yeah?” His fingers drew out an orb in the air, and then he pointed at one spot on the imaginary ball. Y/N’s eyes were glued to the pretend area, pursing her lips and giving a quick nod. “That point, right there, is when I’m on stage. It’s not everything, yeh know? But it’s still me. It’s all me, but I can’t maintain that one spot all the time.

“It is the most gratifying spot, though. It’s like,” his eyes obtained the quality of glimmering at something a bit beyond the edges of the Known, an intangible sense of validation and appreciation that existed only in the space of his stage, “-’M there, and everyone else is there, and we’re all…there.” His eyes darted out, away from their safe space in the universe, to meet Y/N’s, to perhaps see if they held any laughter or mockery in them.

She only stood there, attentively, listening. No judgment in her eyes, only curiosity.

He continued.

“’T’s crazy, that people care ‘bout what I say. Or write, or sing, yeh know?” his eyes briefly closed, and he shook his head, the serious topic brushing down his spine and dissipating at his feet. The moment was over, albeit quickly but Y/N wasn’t sure what else to say – to either bring it back, or transition into another conversation.

She couldn’t grasp onto what he was saying, because experience was the only way, but she altogether understood the concept. It was a special place, for him, to be on stage – and to let him bring his whole, uninhibited self into that space would be to subject it to the validation of an entire crowd. Sometimes, aspects of people had to remain vulnerable, unapproachable, even if for criticism’s sake. His persona was crucial to his sanity, an understandable concept given the immense support he had universally.

Harry broke the quiet, chuckling a bit to himself.

“Do yeh want some wine? Dinner should be ready soon, ‘n I can see where Nick’s at…”

Y/N nodded, mumbling her thanks and mentally wondering why she hadn’t thought to bring any wine. Wasn’t that a grown up thing to do? She had no idea; she had texted Nick asking if they should bring gifts, and he had replied with:

Babe I think your presence is enough of a gift for young Haz.

From which Y/N got the impression that Harry was a lot lonelier than he let on, needing to bring in Nick’s friends for a dinner party. Or perhaps Nick simply recognized how broke Y/N was and assumed it would be kinder to let her escape the insufferable obligation of being a guest. What was proper and socially acceptable had never been drafted out for Y/N, and self-help books only served as nice paperweights.

Shifting his eyes to anywhere but Y/N, Harry went around the corner to, presumably, where his wine cellar was. Y/N was left in the kitchen to her own devices, and she took the opportunity to scurry out and grab her phone from the purse in the hallway. There was one text message from Nick in the group text.

im sooooo durnk… :0:):)

It had been sent five minutes before, an apparent hint that Nick had either forgotten or gotten so wound up in his time spent with others’, he was simply unable to make it to Harry’s. Nick was not the type to be wasted frequently, he usually stayed sober to keep an eye on those around him. He just knew how to have a nice time, drunk or sober, and appreciated the mornings after much more when he had stayed dry. But none of this was relevant, when he wasn’t there.

Y/N inhaled deeply, fingers itching for that promised glass of wine. The night spent with friends sounded nice, relaxing, full of tipsy giggles and shared anecdotes. Having Nick be an intermediate between Harry and herself had been assuring, because despite her interactions with him over text – she didn’t properly know him, right? Not the way he reacts to words, not the way his eyes seem to dig deeper than what she was normally comfortable with showing.

“Uh-” Harry called out from a few rooms away, entering with a bottle of wine tucked in his right hand and resting against his elbow, and his phone in his left hand. He was scrolling, eyebrows furrowed as he read.

“Nick not coming?” Y/N prompted, tucking her phone snug in her back pocket.

Harry shook his head, mild irritation nestling itself in the depths of his face. It wasn’t that he didn’t look forward to hanging out with Y/N, but he had been counting on Nick to help the flow of conversation, as his best friend was known to do. The idea of sitting across from Y/N with only food and wine between them worried him slightly, it was a bit intimidating. Especially after Nick hyped up his ‘other best friend’ so much.

Somehow, though, throughout the course of dinner, things smoothed out. Harry wasn’t looking down at his plate as much as he had feared, it was more about connecting with her eyes and it all felt like a continuation of a friendship Harry hadn’t known started. 

The sense of a Beginning was in the past, lurking behind the sparkle in his eyes, Y/N thought, it all rang as though she and Harry were merely catching up, rather than properly introducing themselves.

But, it wasn’t ‘somehow’, it was clearly because Y/N’s laugh only encouraged Harry’s relentless jokes, making him come out of his shell more than he may have without. The way she would cover her mouth when she accidentally snorted (at a particularly bad joke, fart jokes couldn’t be funny when they’re in the 20s, could they) spurred on his own laughter. He sat, reaching for more wine, his mouth crooked in a mix between a smirk, at his own brilliance, and a smile, his stomach feeling the all-too-familiar flutters.

“What’s yeh ideal job?” Harry suddenly questioned Y/N, once the giggles had died a bit. He was sitting across from her, one arm leaning against the empty chair next to him as he casually spread his legs. Harry’s face was calm, his eyes lazily sweeping the table to spot another bread roll for his fingers to crumble apart as they spoke.

Y/N had attempted to sit proper, for as long as she could, but eventually caved into her natural slouch, her elbows resting on the table and her right hand dangling to the side with the glass of wine between her fingers. Her hair was a bit messy, but Harry didn’t bother to mention it, he sort of liked how the curled strands brushed lay against her cheek, her neck, the top bits of her forehead. It made her seem more human, her flaws were endearing.

“I don’t know if it’s an exact place,” Y/N began, toying with her wine glass and wishing she had a better answer. She knew the basics of what she wanted, what her soul craved and how her current employment wasn’t meeting those needs. Travel was fairly high up in her priorities, and LA was a great hub for those opportunities. Start-ups gave her choices in terms of diversity of company, and non-profits were fantastic work experiences. Yet, there was a voice with no origin, saying softly that her current situation was more of an obstacle than an end-goal. Y/N couldn’t help but agree with the voice, but how can one justify altering the course their life is set on, due to some intangible source?

A bit reckless.

“That’s alright,” Harry hummed, his gaze shifting from the bread roll to Y/N. She was biting her lip, perhaps without fully realizing it, the candle glow manipulating the shades of her face.

“I’ll figure it out.” It sounded more like a promise to Harry, than an assertion of Y/N feeling sure of herself.

“’M sure yeh will, love, you’re smart,” Harry replied kindly, grinning at her attempt to roll her eyes. They ended up only looking in one direction before darting back to his face, and she stuck her tongue out at his chuckling. He didn’t feel particularly comfortable pushing the topic, not having weaseled out of Nick Y/N’s backstory yet.

Dinner slowly wrapped up, each young adult equally resistant to calling the night over. Harry was telling all of the stories he could think of, deriving from his school days and when he had gone on his first tour. He strayed away from too many celebrity-based stories, adoring the sense of normalcy that had settled around the pair. He was simply Harry, his Gucci impression had worn off in her eyes, replaced by the sense that the man-child in front of her still kept his teddy bear from when he was 5 in his bedroom, propped up on his pillows.

Y/N, on the other hand, was trying to keep her glass as full as possible. But their plates were empty, and there was nothing left to do but sip at it every so often, to feel as though she wasn’t being annoying by constantly laughing at whatever intense story Harry had begun. His hands would fling out and he would lean in, as if someone were attempting to overhear his brilliant recount of sneaking out of his house to meet up with friends to trade comic books. He reached over a few times to fill her wine back up, perhaps sensing what Y/N’s plan was and complying with it, no words necessary.

Eventually, though, time could only hold back so much.

“If yeh don’t have anywhere to be tonight…” Harry began, and his eyes flickered down a bit lower than normal, not quite hitting proper eye contact. Shyness suited him, in an odd light, it was a revelation of him that went against the grains of the confident and easy-going nature Y/N had assumed from texts.

“I can show yeh the library. Well, no’ a library exactly, but it’s where I read and stuff,” he explained, scratching at his head.

“Yeah, sure, I’d love that. Love books.” was all Y/N could rally up to reply with, happy he had suggested another plan but overall very much feeling the effects of the wine.

The dishes were collected together, stacked near the sink for the inevitable time that chores and cleanliness ruled the night, and Harry led Y/N down one of his halls to a secluded room on the left.

His fingers were rough against the grey-ish cover of the book, his thumbs pressing in to keep the pages from closing together. The book was well worn, the pages’ edges mostly bent or dog-earred, the cover pages a bit splotchy and off color. It was evidently a loved book, a well used book, one that held the types of words people can’t seem to forget, yet always go searching for once more. Finding solace in a novel isn’t an easy task, especially because it’s nearly impossible to do it if it’s a goal as opposed to a circumstance.

The room wasn’t well lit, but the glistening spines of books scattered the light everywhere so most corners of the room had, at the very least, a warmth. It was the epitome of a study; deep cherry wood stain running along the bookshelves and the couches and seat cushions were hardened by leather. It all felt very dense and compact inside, although there was a yellow dream-catcher dangling above Harry’s desk. A spry, free moment within the organized dictatorship of organization. Perhaps he felt it would give his life more order; from what Nick had mentioned to Y/N, there had been more chaos than anything else as of late.

80s music stretched the sides of the walls, coming from Harry’s record player balanced on top of some dictionaries in the corner. It was the only noise, save the rain against his window in the middle of the back wall. Two seats were against the window, on opposing sides, and themselves bordered by full bookshelves. Harry was curled up in one, his striped legs tucking themselves over the edge of the seat and dangling above the floor. His back rested against the wall, a black shirt with rolled sleeves and a small sauce stain on the shoulder. She had told him it wasn’t noticeable, especially since the fabric was so dark anyway, but his nose still wrinkled because it was his favorite black shirt.

He was quietly flipping through his old copy, the elegant words never failing to keep him enthralled. His fingers tugged on his lower lip as he read, absentmindedly twirling against his chin and mouth.

Y/N didn’t mind that he was preoccupied within his literary universe; she had a copy of some other thick, heavily angsty novel from his shelves and was pretty content with her position in the seat next to Harry. It was late, late enough for yawns to continuously pull out of her mouth and force Harry to shuffle in his chair every now and again, to keep from falling asleep.

Eventually, she accepted the reality of the situation. It was late, or perhaps even early at this point, and Harry hadn’t implied anything about her staying the night over. Not that she expected him to, especially not in a romantic way, but she much preferred his cozy flat to her disarrayed one. Not to mention the knowledge that someone was next to her, that she wasn’t completely alone - it all felt comforting. A feeling that had evaded her heart for the longest time, considering she usually worked late hours and was always being thrust into different environments.

Looking over her shoulder and seeing Harry, who had expected nothing of her except what she wanted to provide, was nice. Similarly for Harry, Y/N was one of the loveliest people he had met recently, a woman who wasn’t so wrapped in her own ego she couldn’t see beyond that blurry haze, a woman who got shit done but wasn’t afraid to recognize room for improvement. Plus, she hadn’t asked any questions that would be out the norm, no references to his stardom or One Direction days (he had half-feared she would bring up one of the memes Nick had posted two days ago, which was particularly scandalous and reminded him of mistakes long ago). She let him explain who he was, and took him at that.

“Maybe I should get going…” she mumbled, her throat thick with lack of use in the past few hours, as she shifted up out of the seat. The time had escaped her, checking her phone would be checking into a reality she didn’t want to intrude on her lovely night.

Harry glanced up, half-dazed, before putting his book to the side.

“Oh, yeah, ‘ suppose. What time is’t?” he groaned, rolling to his side to check his phone. Apparently, more time had gone by than either of them thought, because he immediately shook his head.

“Don’t feel comfortable lettin’ yeh go home this hour, love. Cabs full of odd people, don’t like it,” he grumbled, bringing his legs over to the proper side of the chair and standing up slowly. He ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to control the little he had at the moment, as Y/N tried to remember where she had put her purse. They had opened another wine bottle before cracking into the books, their glasses still holding a few droplets on their coasters, but it hadn’t helped the fog that overcame her mind.

“I think we’re still a lil gone, Haz,” Y/N spoke softly, and if his heart didn’t skip at that, “-I don’t think getting behind the wheel is too smart…”

Harry shook his head. “Nah, planned on gettin’ the guest room set up.”

And he took the steps forward to meet Y/N, his hands tucking gently into his pockets. His hair was tousled, half to one side and the loosely shaved sides curling the tiniest bit against each other. He sniffed, swaying back and forth a bit, not moving enough to suggest he was in a rush to the guest room. His eyes were intent on Y/N’s, as she felt another laugh stir up in her, leaving her mouth only as a half-breath with the slightest sway to a giggle.

The slurred nature of a night spent late, especially with the addition of good company and good wine, tended to create a private atmosphere, where both parties are convinced that their actions would never impact another aspect of their life. The night was independent, special, and epic. Nothing could’ve prevented this, really, Y/N figured, recognizing the question floating against Harry’s breath. If only he would ask it…

His eyes slowed in their journey around her face, narrowing to only staring her lips, as if they held the last of the nectar and he was desperate to become a god. She had been biting them again, but once she realized where his attention had gone, her lower lip was released.

Y/N stood, her hands still clutching the book she had started, and if anyone asked her at that moment, she couldn’t even remember the title, the author, her own name.

Harry was pleased enough to inform her, through a voice weighed down with the drunken lust of a man holding back, “Y/N…”

She stayed quiet, almost frozen into a statue of her former self.

“Can I…could I…kiss yeh?” His hands made the motion as if they were coming out of their pocket restraints but paused, trying to gauge her reaction before acting any further. If Harry was reading the signs wrong, this would have been utterly disastrous.

Y/N’s lips parted, quite in shock that the words had slipped out of his mouth instead of hers, when she felt the same thought cross her mind so intensely. Shaking her head ‘yes’, her heart and her mind collaborated to attempt and figure out what was going on.

And Harry never looked so pleased with himself, his eyes dashing up and down her face, not quite sure where to land when her eyes were sparkling like that, her cheeks were so flush, her lips were already bitten red and her fingers were setting the book on a side table.

Harry reached out, one hand hesitantly laying on her waist and another reaching out to gently glide over her cheek. She was so soft, inside and out, his fingers drifted to the nape of her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her lips came together in the slightest bit, the shade of a raspberry practically and -

The front door thrashed open, the click of a key apparently having gone over the both of them in the haze of excitement and Monumental Things Occurring. A stumbling man came through, visible from their position near the library doorway, as the foyer was cut out as an area between the kitchen and bedrooms/study.

Nick held up two bottles of champagne in one hand, seemingly haven drunken one quite fine by himself, squealing to himself over some joke he had thought of on the way inside.

“Harry! Y/N! My besties,” he sang, wiggling his hips and handing the bottles off to Harry. Y/N and Harry had separated, instinctively, as soon as the door had opened, and now Harry only looked at her in obvious dismay, unsure with how to proceed.

“C’mon, Nick, you had your water?” Y/N took ahold of the situation, walking forward to gently guide Nick by the elbow. It was a comfortable routine, between her and Nick, and she knew from his incoherent grunts that yes, he had his water, although he didn’t like it very much.

She didn’t bother to look at Harry, unsure what words could fill up distance. Nick began jabbering about his night out, the expensive dishes and luxury galore that he had dabbled in, and how he would’ve been thrilled to take her and Haz along, but he knew Haz had been slaving away on the dinner – and he so meant to make it back in time to grab some of Harry’s dinner rolls. 

That was when Nick began tittering again, glancing madly at the wallpaper as Y/N and Harry both led him to the guest room, that had previously been Y/N’s in a prior conversation, in what felt like a prior decade.

“Did ya touch Harry’s buns, yeah?” he asked Y/N, eyes alight with mischief.

Harry snorted with laughter, pulling away from Nick to pull back the billowing comforter on the bed and prop up the pillows so they would be nice and fluffed for his dear, drunk friend. Y/N worked on sitting Nick down, grasping his phone out of his hand and putting it safely within the side table drawer, knowing Nick had a tendency of texting the wrong people when he was newly hungover.

“I would like it if yeh still stayed, I’ve still got a half of my bed,” Harry whispered, after they had successfully pulled Nick’s socks off and he was fast asleep under the covers, like a small boy who had crashed from his sugar high. They looked like two parents, each looking fondly at their boy, their fingers like ghosts drifted closer to each other’s, before hesitating, and drawing away.

“Just sleeping,” Y/N confirmed, eyebrows raised to signify that she wasn’t planning on lowering her borders again. The night had closed the possibilities for the time, they were who they were at the dining table. A bit awkward, the silence unrelenting. Two new friends, who both needed to come together for Nick.

Harry blinked slow, a smile growing on his face as he nodded, seeming at bliss with that.

He held the door open for her, as he did when she first entered his flat, and similarly she passed him with a furtive glance that sent him in small, tipsy giggles.

“Yeah, love, just sleeping.”

—————————————————

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts here, and check out the rest of my works if you’d like!

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Christina Hovland’s MILE HIGH MATCHED Series is out on Audible now! Check out today’s release day blitz and be sure to grab your copy today! Mile High Matched Series Contemporary Romance   About Going Down on One Knee: Mile High Matched, Book 1   "An utterly charming opposites-attract-story. Hovland perfectly balances simmering sexual tension with a surprising amount of emotion, and the stomach-flip-causing ending is the perfect example of why I read and love romance." - New York Times Bestselling Author, Lauren Layne Number-crunching Velma Johnson's perfectly planned life is right on course. That's a lie. Sure, she's got the lucrative job. She's got the posh apartment. But her sister nabbed Velma's Mr. Right. There has to be a man out there for Velma. Hopefully, one who's hunky, wears pressed suits, and has a diversified financial portfolio. He'll be exactly like, well... her sister's new fiancé. Badass biker Brek Montgomery blazes a trail across the country, managing Dimefront, one of the biggest rock bands of his generation. With the band on hiatus, Brek rolls into Denver to pay a quick visit to his family and friends. But when Brek's sister suddenly gets put on bed rest, she convinces Brek to take over her wedding planning business for the duration of her pregnancy. Staying in Denver and dealing with bridezillas was not what Brek had in mind when he passed through town, but there is one particular maid-of-honor who might make his stay worthwhile. Velma finds herself strangely attracted to the man planning her sister's wedding. Problem is, he ticks none of the boxes on her well-crafted list. Brek is rough around the edges, he cusses, and doesn't even have a 401(k). But trying something crazy might get her out of the rut of her dating life--so long as she lays down boundaries up front and sticks to her plan... Going Down on One Knee is book one of the Mile High Matched series. If you love a hunky, tattooed wedding planner this book is for you. Buy nowfor a fun, opposites attract romance! Order Now! Audible Amazon About Blow Me Away: Mile High matched, Book 2   It's all fun and games until somebody falls in love... Jase Dvornakov has always loved women, 80's hair band music, and things that go boom. He used to disarm bombs in the Navy, but he's back in Denver after a mission overseas went sideways and destroyed his future, including his marriage. Now he arranges flowers in his family's floral business because flowers don't explode. Cookie-baker extraordinaire, Heather Reese, has had one too many rounds of heartache, so she's sworn off men and prefers to spend her evenings binge-watching game shows. Plus her no-men rule gives her time to focus on her dream come true--Heather's Cookie Co.--her very own bake shop with an underground following for naughty shaped treats. She refuses to be interested in the hot-shot florist across the street. He is trouble with a capital T. Sexy trouble, but still, a hook-up with Jase is a hard nope. Desperate to avoid his family's incessant matchmaking, a fake breakup with the beautiful Heather is just what the florist ordered. If his family believes Heather decimated his heart, they'll leave him alone. Heather isn't so keen on the idea, but Jase is determined to make it worth her while. When a pretend breakup becomes the real romance neither was expecting, together they'll have to decide if it's finally time to light the fuse on love... Blow Me Away is the second book in the Mile High Matched Series. Each book stands alone and can be read in any order. If you love friends to lovers with a dash of steam, this is the book for you! Buy Blow Me Away for a laugh out loud romantic comedy!   Order Now! Audible Amazon   About Take it Off the Menu: Mile High Matched, Book 3   Saying “I Do” has never been such a mess. Marlee Medford just got dumped. Yes, things have become ho-hum in her longtime relationship, but she was two days away from walking down the aisle with the man she thought was her forever when he called it off. Convincing herself that they’d be able to reignite their spark once the wedding craziness settled? That was easy. Suddenly finding herself without a fiancé? Not so much. Marlee needs to regain control of her life, and a weekend away with her friends is a solid first step. One of Denver’s best up-and-coming chefs, perpetual bachelor Eli Howard, isn’t into serious relationships—especially the kind that ends in marriage. As if to prove his point that they aren’t worth the trouble, the wedding he was supposed to be catering just fell apart. Feeling oddly protective of the jilted bride—his little sister’s best friend—his weekend plans now involve a trip to Sin City with her group of friends. But it looks like he had a bit too much fun in Vegas when he wakes up married…wedding night included. Marlee’s attempts at getting her life back together are failing miserably. Her ex-fiancé is taking the house, her chihuahua is intent on a love affair with Eli’s sneakers, and she’s now accidentally hitched to the guy who can't even say the word marriage. With their quickie annulment denied, Eli and Marlee just have to hang tight until the divorce goes through. It’s just a little divorce amongst friends, what’s the worst that could happen? Take It Off the Menu is book three of the Mile High Matched series, but stands alone and can be read in any order. If you love a hunky caterer and an accidental marriage then this book is for you! Buy now for a fun, friends-to-lovers romance! Order Now! Audible Amazon     Exclusive Excerpt: “You catching that?” Jase asked, his focus returning to the poster and the tape. “Catching what?” Heather replied. Poster in hand, he moved to the front window and pressed it against the glass, smoothing it before turning back to her. “Catching the little buzz we have going on between us.” “A little… the thing is…” C’mon Heather, be strong. You are the cookie lady now. You don’t date. You are all you need. That’s what the podcast she’d been listening to said to her over and over again. Mantra in hand, she slapped on her I’m-in-charge-here-buddy mask. “It would never work between us.” The edges of his lips ticked up ever so slightly. “You can’t know that.” Oh, she knew. He sauntered toward her. Unwilling to back down, she stepped toward him. Expression firm, she said, “I can already see exactly how this whole thing would play out if we let it. You’d start with a horrible pick up line.” “Guilty.” His hands fell to the belt loops of his jeans. Her palm itched to press against the front of his tee, but she refrained. “Then I’d counter with a witty response. This time my reply would be even better. Funny, intelligent…everything.” “Now, that I’d like to hear.” Nothing but a foot of crackling air sizzled between them. “Trust me, if I had said it, it would have been epic. You can’t repeat something like that. It has to happen in the moment.” She shook her head, the sleek ponytail she’d carefully arranged earlier brushing against the collar of her jacket. “That right there is why we wouldn’t have worked out. I mean you couldn’t even come up with a snappier reply.” He crossed his arms, the little veins of his muscled forearms flexing with the motion. “Oh, I would’ve. It would’ve been the best response in the history of pick-up line replies.” “I don’t believe you.” The glimmer in his eyes lit up his entire face. He was clearly enjoying this exchange entirely too much. Control. She needed the power back. “Trust would’ve always been one of your issues in our relationship.” “Maybe you just couldn’t be honest with me about how you felt. That’s probably why we would have always argued.” He raised his eyebrows in a clear ultimatum. Challenge accepted. She stepped the tiniest bit closer to him. “Let’s say you threw out that awful line again. The one about taking me out.” “I’m with you so far.” He glanced down to the floor in clear acknowledgment of her movement forward, but he held his ground. “We’d banter for a good bit—” His face sparked with humor. “Sounds about right.” “Both of us would get that tingly feeling of attraction. You know the one.” So maybe she made her voice a little breathier than usual. Sue her. His mouth parted, the exaggerated fullness of his lower lip apparent. “You have a tingly feeling?” She shook her head and raised a hand. Not touching his chest like she desperately wanted to but getting within millimeters. “That’s not the important part. Eventually you would convince me to go on a date.” “I’d take you to this great taco stand. I love tacos.” “Despite that, I’d probably let you take me out again. And again,” she said, not willing to acknowledge the way she wanted to nip at his lip with her teeth. He nodded. “I’m digging this relationship so far.” “Eventually, you’d ask me to move in. I’d say no. You’d pressure me, even though I wouldn’t be ready.” “What can I say? I wouldn’t want to spend a night away from you. No use paying for two apartments.” She shrugged, dropping her hand. “I’d cave, and we’d finally move in together—” “Do we get to hook up first? Don’t skip that part.” This time he moved forward. Not a lot, just a smidge. She stayed put. She refused to back up first. “Of course. It would be awful. Sorry Speed Racer, but I need more than three minutes of go-time.” “That’s not what you’d say after you screamed my name.” He leaned forward, the whisper of his words brushing against her ear. God, there wasn’t but a breath of space between them. She was all turned-on Heather, ready to throw her why-have-a-man-when-you-can-have-cookies resolve away. His breath smelled of cinnamon candy and coffee, turning her knees effectively to melted butter. No, she stopped herself. Back to the break-up at hand. About Christina Hovland: Christina Hovland lives her own version of a fairy tale—an artisan chocolatier by day and romance writer by night. Born in Colorado, Christina received a degree in journalism from Colorado State University. Before opening her chocolate company, Christina’s career spanned from the television newsroom to managing an award-winning public relations firm. She’s a recovering overachiever and perfectionist with a love of cupcakes and dinner she doesn’t have to cook herself. A 2017 Golden Heart® finalist, she lives in Colorado with her first-boyfriend-turned-husband, four children, and the sweetest dog around.   About the Author: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram Enter the Giveaway!

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