#idk i think about the worst happening to me. i imagine being murdered. and the desecration of my memory that would be sentencing someone

[sendmyresignation]

been reading about life sentences and prison abolition a lot lately (mostly visa-vi children who become lifers and the laws which allow children to be tried as adults) and its crazy how "tough on crime" politicians can't use the superpredator rhetoic anymore so they'll take One Guy and turn that person into a boogeyman which makes it impossible to enact meaningful change like. the way oregon used to have some of the most strict mandatory minimums for juvi offenders as young as 15 (which goes hand in hand with the history of oregon/northwestern exclusion of black residents and the intrinsic antiblackness in the area) and reforming this took literal decades bc politicians could fear monger about the thurston high school shooter getting out of prison (after passing a bill that prevented sentencing minors to life without parole they added an addendum which excluded anyone sentenced before 2019- trapping hundreds of others into an endless sentence just for this one imfamous prisoner) like you have to destroy the notion that One Singular Person is Evil Enough to require the human rights abuses which allow 15 year olds to basically be thrown away forever like sorry if that is the case it doesn't work!!!!

#and the reason the fearmongering exists is because we know prison Does Not Work in the sense rehabilitation is not the goal #punishment is. so its easy to be like. we will never Be Safe from the evil. therefore justifying the continued existence of max punishment #and so we are just torturing people forever how are we okay with that #idk i think about the worst happening to me. i imagine being murdered. and the desecration of my memory that would be sentencing someone #to die in my name. it makes me sick i cannot stand it #and the recent supreme court ruling too..... its just very bleak. violence is woven into every fabric of our society. #this was spurred by hanif abdurraqib saying something about the rhetoric surrounding palestinian children in israeli prisons #in america. when they are often not sentenced for any crime etc (these are effectively hostages the news refuses to acknowledge as such). #is par for the course in a nation that imprisons more children than any other nation in the world. and thus. reading. #my posts

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

i'm soooo glad you're back!!! love your writting so much, was thinking about some ghostface¡ tate or shit yk...like everyone who flirts with reader end murdered

i’m sorry this took me so long to do 😔 but i sorta did my own twist on this request, hope you don’t mind… i love it… anyway… :)

~~~

Lovefool

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, smut, stalking, obsession, very toxic, manipulation, very minor talk of drug use… virgins, yeah idk what else it’s just stalker tate being crazy for you

summary: tate’s loved you since the first moment you met, and he would do anything to be with you… anything…

word count: 4.4

~~~

2011

You stare at the boy in front of you, a mix of emotions stirring inside you. He’s your age still, you aren’t too surprised at that. You’re more surprised at the fact that he’s in front of you. It’s been so long since the last time you saw him. You remember the pain, the pure fear that paralyzed your body the last time the two of you had an encounter. It still makes you uneasy.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice weak.

He shrugs. “It’s Halloween.”

“There’s been plenty of Halloweens Tate and this is the first time I’ve seen you here. What do you want?” You reply in a harsher tone than.

Tate shrugs again and starts to play with the sleeves of his sweater. You can’t believe this is real. You want to close your eyes and pretend this is all a sick dream, though you haven’t slept in years. After a few seconds, you cross your arms over your chest and take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Tate the fact you even have the balls to try to find me is crazy, what happened? Did you suddenly feel some sense of guilt? Are you finally sorry for what you did to me? I don’t even care if you are sorry, I don’t care about anything except the one question I’ve wondered since the night it happened,” you say.

“What question?” He responds.

“Why?” Your eyes start to burn. “Why did you kill me?”

~~~

1993

Tate had never seen any girl as beautiful as you. Never. Not in a movie, not in a magazine, nothing. From the first time he saw you in kindergarten, he knew there was something special about you. Of course, he didn’t know it would grow into what it did until middle school when his hormones took over. His feelings for you quickly transitioned from a pure crush to a sick obsession. And the best and worst part of it all was that you had no idea.

You never really spoke to him. He was out of your league. You were popular, but not braindead popular like the people you surrounded yourself with. Tate had seen you in some of your classes. You were smart, you got the best grades in those classes. You had plans for yourself after high school, unlike your friends. That knowledge only made him admire you more.

The problems began when you started going out with one of the popular boys in your group, David. He was awful for you; Tate didn’t understand why you chose to have such a relationship with someone like that. He’d watch how David would wrap his arms around you in the hallways, leave small kisses on your cheeks, and whisper words in your ears that made your face turn bright red. It made him furious.

What did David have that he didn’t? Why was he so special? Tate knew he could give you more than David ever could. So, why were you with him?

Tate quickly became blinded by rage and jealousy.

At night he’d lie awake, the knowledge that you might’ve been out there opening your legs for another boy making him sick. That’s when the fantasies began. He imagined killing David. How would he do it? Where? In what way would leave the least amount of blood on his clothes? The image of his mutilated body consumed Tate’s thoughts. He liked it.

It was around that time that he had found the mask.

It was a strange mask he found in the basement. It had a long white face with black holes for the eyes and a long mouth. He wondered which resident of his house had left it there for him. He didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care. All he knew from the second his eyes fell upon that mask was that bad things were going to happen.

He started going out at night and driving by David’s house. The mask he wore gave him a sense of power he never knew he could feel. At first, it was innocent. He’d simply drive down the other boy's road and look through his window for a few minutes before leaving. But all it took was one second of seeing you inside to blow the whole thing up. He was livid, seeing red. He decided he needed to bring his fantasies to life and get rid of David for good.

Halloween was when the opportunity to kill David became undeniable. By that point, Tate had been stalking the two of you for a month so he knew the basics. Which room was Davids, how to get into his house, and where his parents were most likely going to be. He had it all planned out. So, on Halloween night he put on the mask along with black robes that covered his entire body and ventured to the other boy's house, ready to kill.

He brought a knife, and when the time was just right, he snuck in through one of David’s open windows and started his game. He crept through the empty house, not making a sound. Getting to David’s room only took him a few minutes and what he heard from outside the door made him not regret his choice at all.

“Yeah, I know, listen she’s so close to finally giving it up to me and that’s what I’ve been working for this whole time. Once it happens, I’ll dump her, easy,” David spoke into his phone. His voice was cocky. It made Tate clench his jaw in frustration.

“Because dude, do you know how many girls from school I’ve already got under my belt? Y/N is just gonna be a name on my list. Yeah, whatever, I gotta go anyway I need to shower for the party, maybe I’ll get lucky, and she’ll drink too much. Okay bye.”

Before David could even get up from his chair, Tate kicked the door down and stormed in, too overpowered by his rage to think about anything but slitting the other boy's throat. He pounced on him, stabbing the knife into any part of his body he could reach. David screamed, but Tate quickly silenced him by shoving the knife down his throat. He felt empowered, he felt thrilled at the sight of his dead peer. It was amazing.

Tate didn’t waste much time gawking over his achievement, however. Once he was sure David was dead, he quickly pulled the knife out of the boy and fled out the window and back to his car. As he drove through the small neighborhoods of your guys' town, he wondered how big the news would be. Would you cry? He hoped you wouldn’t. Not over that asshole. You would move on, and Tate would wait however long it took.

~~~

The news of David’s death spread faster than wildfire and consumed Westfield High’s drama for weeks. Out of all the kids in the school, you took his death hardest. Seeing you so depressed almost made Tate regret his actions. He couldn’t bear seeing you tear up in class or show up to school two periods late. You weren’t like that.

However, as the days turned into weeks, you started to appear healthier and happier, and soon enough you were back to your normal self. Tate was glad, you were always so much prettier when you paid attention in class. He decided it was time for the second part of his plan to finally act. Though he was incredibly nervous, he knew it was then or never. He couldn’t risk you getting a new boyfriend that he’d have to kill again.

So, one day, he followed you into the library when the two of you coincidently had a study hall during the same period. His heart was beating so loud he could hear it in his ears. There you were. sitting at one of the tables alone studying, and he was going to speak to you. He’d thought up conversation starters all morning along with taking a few extra hits off his bong to help with the anxiety.

He shook the nervous thoughts from his head and grabbed his notebook from his backpack before walking in your direction. Your head was down, your hand moved aggressively across the paper as you wrote your notes. Tate stood at the other side of the table for a few seconds simply admiring you. His hands were shaky, his breathing uneasy. God, you made him lose his composure by existing. It was excruciating.

After he was done staring, he spoke, his voice quiet. “Hey y/n, do you mind maybe helping me with some of that psych homework?”

Your head shot up, your eyes instantly meeting his. He swore he couldn’t breathe. You, y/n, were looking at him on purpose. At that moment he didn’t care about what you were going to say, he didn’t care if you completely rejected him. All he cared about was how good it felt to have your eyes on him. Such innocent, loving eyes.

“Oh, yeah of course Tate that’s actually what I’m working on right now. Just sit, we can do it together. Unless you’re like super behind,” you answered.

“Are- Are you sure?” He couldn’t help the uncertainty. Did you really say yes to him?

“Yeah... should I not be?” You replied with a smile.

“No- sorry.” He sat down across from you. He could smell your perfume; he’d never been this close to you. “I just wasn’t sure if you even knew who I was.”

You chuckled. “How could I not know who you are? We’ve literally been in the same school system together since kindergarten.”

“I don’t know. You’re you know popular and stuff,” he said as he opened his notebook.

“Not really, besides even if I was that wouldn’t automatically make me forget anyone. But anyway, you can use my notes in a second, I’m almost done with the page,” you responded. You looked back down at your work and started writing again.

Tate nodded despite you not paying attention and watched as you wrote. He felt like that whole conversation was another one of his daydreams about you. Was he really sitting across from you? Or was it another mid-class nap? He cracked his knuckles to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and thankfully, he wasn’t. It was all real life.

“Sorry if this comes out as creepy, but I feel like I haven’t seen you around in a while. I mean, when was the last time we even spoke?” You suddenly spoke, your eyes back on his.

“I guess you weren’t looking hard enough to see me,” he said with a shrug. All his confidence was a facade because on the inside he was losing his mind.

He noticed the way your cheeks slightly turned pink before you replied. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t. But I should have been.”

He knew deep down you were going to be his for so long, but at that point, he knew he had already achieved his goal. You were his.

~~~

“What is this place?” You asked as you clutched your cardigan around your body.

Tate smiled and grabbed both of your hands in his. “I told you it’s a surprise. Patience is a virtue.”

“I have patience, but I also have a lower body temperature than usual and it’s bothering me so I would really appreciate it if you’d just take me to the surprise already,” you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

“It’s seventy degrees.”

“Yeah, but it’s also windy at the beach and it’s probably colder than seventy because of the ocean’s temperature.”

Tate sighed and leaned his head down to press a small kiss on your lips, a feeling he still hadn’t gotten over. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Terrible, naughty things I hope,” you replied, kissing him again. “But please lead me to your special surprise beach spot.”

Though he wanted to stand there and kiss you all night, Tate obeyed your request and began to lead you further down the beach. It had been a few months since the two of you started talking, and to say it progressed would be an understatement. Tate had truly underestimated how easy it would be to capture your attention. All you wanted was a sweet, caring, genuine boy and he could be all those things easily.

So, after a month of being friends, he asked you out and you said yes. The relationship grew deeper with each day, and it didn’t disappoint him one bit. He loved everything about you. The way you’d lie on your bed with him and talk for hours, the way you’d make your relationship with him public by holding his hand in the halls, and most importantly the way you never expected or wanted him to change to fit in with your friends. You liked him for who he was, and it melted his heart.

It was your three-month anniversary, and Tate wanted to make it special. Even though he knew before the two of you got together that you were a virgin, he didn’t know to what extent you were. He quickly became aware you had done most things already, just not full sex. At first, he was annoyed at the fact that you weren’t completely his because he had never done anything with a girl before you. But after the first night, you went down on him, he wasn’t that upset anymore.

On this night he planned to take the next step with you. He had it all set up. The blankets, the lights, all of it. As the sight of his setup came into view, he watched your face light up. You squeezed his hand and grinned up at him.

“Is this really for me?” You asked.

“Yeah, do you like it?” He replied.

You nodded and sped up to reach it, dragging him with you. Once you made it you dropped down to sit on the blanket, urging Tate to do the same. “This is so cool. You’re the first boy to ever do something like this for me. I love it.”

“I’m glad, I know how you like sentimental things,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “And I’ve been wanting to show you this spot for a while. I used to come here a lot as a kid and watch the waves with my dad... before he left. I wanted to make it special with you because you’re not like my dad. Right?”

“No, I’m not. I won’t ever do anything to hurt you like that. I lo- I like you Tate, a lot.”

Tate only stared into your eyes, his heart beating faster than it ever had in his life. You almost said you loved him. He knew then that night was going to be the night you finally gave yourself to him. Something in your eyes made him certain. Your eyes were dark. You stared up at him as if he were the only boy in the world. There was a feeling in the air, one of lust and fear.

“I’ll never want to hurt you either,” he mumbled after a few seconds. “I doubt I ever could.”

You gave him a small smile and placed one of your hands on his cheek. You caressed the skin with your thumb as you slowly started to lean your face toward his. He accepted your lips on him, kissing back instantly. It was the moment he’d been working up to for years. He was finally going to lose his virginity to you, and you to him. Nothing would ever compare.

~~~

The sound of Nirvana mixed with skin slapping filled Tate’s room. He couldn’t help the moan that left his lips when he looked down at you. Your back was arched so perfectly, your waist looked impossibly small, and your ass looked incredibly big. The side of your face was smushed against one of Tate’s pillows. You were so red, so loud you had to bite your hand to spare the whole house from hearing. Tate took in a deep breath and slapped your ass, his thrusts not faltering for even a second.

“Fuck baby, you look so pretty right now. You take me so well,” he whispered. He wrapped some of your hair around his hand and yanked you up, making you practically scream. “Yeah, you like that. You like being manhandled y/n?”

You let out another moan but didn’t reply. Tate slapped your ass again and threw you back down to the mattress. He leaned over you, your sweaty body feeling perfect against his. He was close to finishing. He’d already made you cum a few times that day, so he wasn’t too concerned about where you were. All he was concerned about was getting closer to you before he came.

“I love controlling you, you’re so helpless. Fuck I’m so close,” he mumbled in your ear. “You’re mine, all fucking mine forever. I’ll kill anyone who even tries to take you away from me.”

You made a noise and Tate couldn’t hold back any longer. He came inside you, his cock pulsing heavily. You groaned; his cock was hitting your cervix too hard it hurt. He waited a minute or so before finally pulling out and moving to the spot next to you on the bed. He’d never felt anything as amazing as having sex with you. He was breathless.

He was so caught up in his thoughts about what just happened that he didn’t notice your sad expression. When he eventually looked at you, he saw your frown. Immediately he turned to his side and faced you, reaching out one of his hands to brush a few of your hairs behind your ear.

“What’s wrong baby?” He asked.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“It doesn’t look like nothing you look sad; you can tell me whatever it is.”

You sighed and turned your head to meet his gaze. “Why do you like hurting me? Like during sex and stuff. You’re always so rough and I don’t know you’re really mean and sometimes the stuff you say is… scary.”

“How is it scary?” He laughed.

“You said you’d kill anyone who would try to take me away from you,” you said.

“Yeah, I would. I swear I’ve said this shit to you before. I would do anything for you, or to keep you,” he responded.

“Don’t joke about that Tate, you know I’m scared of killers because of what happened.”

“Oh, so this is about David? Why are you even thinking about him y/n he’s been dead for months. Do you miss him, or something is that it?” He questioned; his tone harsher than before.

You scoffed and sat up. “You’re seriously making this about me missing David?”

“Well, is that what this is about?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered before you stood up and started to get dressed.

“Oh, my fucking God y/n I’m sorry for whatever I said wrong while we were fucking. Can we just move on already? I don’t see what the big deal is,” he snapped.

“No, we can’t just move on. You scare me sometimes Tate like genuinely. I know you mean it all in a sweet way but it’s weird. I love you but you don’t hear me saying I’d kill people if they talked to you or looked at you a certain way. That’s not normal.”

Tate sat up. “I wish you would say those things. I wish you loved me as much as I love you. I’d do anything you ask; I would shoot up the fucking school if you wanted me to.”

You looked at him, he could see the terror and fear in your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am. I don’t get why you’re acting so scared. I’d never hurt you I don’t even think I could if I wanted to, you mean more to me than any person alive or dead,” he answered.

“You’re sick,” you mumbled. You grabbed your bag and walked to the door. “I think we need some time apart; you aren’t sane.”

His heart practically stopped. “What?”

“We need to stop seeing each other for a little while, I can’t take this insane shit Tate. I’m sorry. You know I love you, but I need you to get some help before I can be with you.”

Before Tate could reply, you left. All he could do was stare at the door, a million thoughts roaming his head. Did you really just break up with him? Was that it? Did you just throw away everything the two of you had because you felt his love was too strong? It didn’t feel real.

As the night progressed, he tried to call you, dozens of times. But each call was either declined or rang out. His anxiety grew with each ring of the phone. Why weren’t you replying? Who were you seeing? Did he really mean so little to you that you could leave so easily? His mind spun with scenarios, each one worse than the last. By the end of the night, he had convinced himself you were cheating on him, and the following days only worsened his state of madness.

You ignored him completely in school. Every time he tried to talk to you, you either turned away or walked away completely. It hurt him terribly. He couldn’t understand what had changed so fast. He chased you around the halls for days, trying his hardest to get your attention. But it never worked. And so, his love for you began to fade into an awful rage.

He couldn’t let you just walk away from everything the two of you shared. You were his. Only his. He couldn’t let you leave him, not like his dad. He hadn’t spent his entire life chasing you just to end up losing you. No. So, he began to formulate a plan. He’d leave you alone for a few days then calmly ask you to meet him at the beach, in the special spot he once made for you.

He wasn’t surprised that his plan worked. You were predictable.

When the night came, he made sure he was prepared. He snorted a line, packed his bag full of your favorite things, and set off. As he walked down the beach, he made sure the knife he hid was secure in his pocket. It was smaller than the one he’d used on David, but it would do the job just as efficiently.

You arrived a few minutes after him, a sad expression on your pretty face. He fought the urge to run to you with open arms.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. Only a few feet separated your bodies, he wished he could close it. But he needed to be patient.

You took a deep breath, you looked nervous. “Yeah, look Tate I... I’ve thought about it and I... I really think we should stop seeing each other for some time.”

“Why Y/N? I love you, so fucking much. I’m sorry for what I said, I can change, I won’t say shit like that ever again. I’ll be gentle, I swear. Just give me the chance I can be whatever you need me to be,” he replied desperately. He opened his bag and pulled out your favorite candy. “I love you; I really do. Please give me another chance.”

He watched your eyes fill with tears. You wanted to give in, he could see it in your eyes. But you only shook your head and wiped a fallen tear from your cheek.

“No. I’m sorry. Tate, you aren’t gentle, that’s not who you are. And I don’t want you to pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

Tate swallowed hard. “You promised me you’d never leave me; you said you were nothing like my dad. Was it all a lie?”

“Of course not!” You exclaimed and took a step closer to him. “I love you; I really do. That’s why this is so hard.”

“If you love me, why can’t we work this out? Don’t lie to me Y/N.”

He couldn’t stop his eyes from watering, nor could he stop his lips from quivering. He dug the bouquet of your favorite flowers out from his bag and held them out to you.

“Please,” he mumbled. “I need you.”

You caved. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tight. He could feel your muffled cries on his chest, it pained him. You were a sensitive sweet girl; it was both your blessing and curse.

“Maybe in a few months, we can try again, I don’t know.” You looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. “We just can’t be together right now. And I mean we’re going to graduate soon, and I might go to a college far away, how would that even work? But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s too late for that Y/N, you’ve already hurt me.” He dropped what he was holding and dug one of his hands into his pocket. He touched your face with his other hand, your tears covering his palm. “You’ve planned on leaving me this whole time. I wanted to give it another try you’ve made up your mind. I guess it just comes down to one thing.”

“What?” You asked.

“If I can’t have you, no one can,” he whispered before he pulled out the knife and plunged it into the side of your neck.

~~~

2011

“I killed you because I loved you,” he answers. “Because you were going to leave me and find someone else.”

All you can do is stare at him in silence. You think back to everything that happened. How could you have been so blind? It couldn’t have been your fault though. He would’ve killed you anyway. You think back to all the times Tate made you uneasy, all the times he would say things that creeped you out. Deep down you must’ve known that’s who he is. Maybe you knew all along.

Maybe you loved him because of his darkness.

You exhale a long breath. “We don’t have that long till midnight.”

“So?”

You shrug. “Wanna hook up?”

#fanfiction #evan peters #evan peters smut #tate langdon #evan peters x reader #kai anderson #smut #james march x reader #jimmy darling #kit walker #evan peters characters #tate pov mostly #tate langdon x you #tate langdon smut #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon fanfic #ahs smut #american horror murder house #american horror story #smut requests #i love smut #evan peters fanfic #tate langdon x y/n #kit walker x you #kit walker smut #kyle spencer smut #james patrick march #evan peters imagine #kit walker x reader #i love this so much

[jazeswhbhaven]

They Do What in Where?: Attack of Kings Beelzebub Prologue *Spoilers*

TW://kink involving Autassassinophilia is mentioned

Guys. Lovelies. Girlies. Peeps. Everyone. This is only the fucking prologue and I have so many emotions but only one thing on mind.

Fucking the ever-living s h i t out of Beel.

Welcome back to Avisos, everyone. We got a good dose of it during the Beel event, but yeah yeah

Beel sniffing MC will never surprise me nor will bother me because yeah sniff away.

Horny from smelling hair? I love him. He could literally smell anything on you and would get hard this is amazing to me

So what's going on rn is that MC and Beel are on some kind of date and he's showing them around Avisos and the little stores and such. He's like having so much fun and being very clingy. May I add.

MC keeps talking about him like this and I'm like Oh...yeah same brain cell because everything about him is u g h h h hgh hsoidnk

So let me get this straight. "Everything" is legal. Like think of the worst thing you can think of and that shit is legal here. BUT being a homewrecker is where they draw the line 💀 I'm just throwing this out here, TW btw, but imagine getting thrown in jail for seducing someone else's partner to be with you but the guy across the street that literally raped and murdered someone is walking around free.

I guess that's just Avisos??? Lol

Moving on though, MC and Beel are walking up to the first store and the sign says

NGL I thought this meant something else because it's BHM in the US (hey hey all of my blk peeps out there that follow!) and I had my own joke in my head about it...BUT it's its about fucking eating demon cum as a sauce.

That's a lot of fucking sauce.

Next we have

They don't even explain what the forest of mushrooms is about. MC just says "that's all about men..." (i can imagine it's literally a fucking store full of dick) and Beel goes to explain the shop that's next to it where you can drink demon spit that's been distilled.

He's even tried it a few times and there's not much to go around.

i can imagine why...

MC is pretty much worried about other shit though and wondering what was their end destination. And well-

Hello my angry bby, yes he would be mad.

Because apparently MC was having tea with Sitri and Ppyong and the tea was too strong so Ppyong was flipping out and that's when Beel made his entrance..

Just "HEY WHATS UP?" and took them away.

With his random ass, I love him.

When Beel gets this way I always wanna cuddle his face and give him praises and kisses and words of affirmation because I feel he needs to hear that he's loved and needed along with physical touch.

But MC also wonders why everyone else seems so chill that he's just walking around when they're normally flipping out that Beel is in town. Turns out he may (or may not) have put a spell on himself so no one notices him.

So my theory is, he's simply just diguised as a common looking devil of Avisos and not himself so that's why everyone is still running into him, bumping shoulders and not paying him any mind and MC is just MC.

Or...they both could be cloaked at the moment because I'm sure they'd recognize MC maybe...but I'm only going off how they interacted with MC during his Bloodshed card at the carnival. Also he starts sniffing up on MC again and it's getting him worked up so much...

Time after time, MC is always goddamn wet around him. Idk how he fucking does this or how he manages this, but it only happens with him and I love that quirk about their dynamic.

But honestly...the fact those are his three favorite places to smell has me wondering though if he likes unwashed parts (armpits/genitals) because there's a stronger smell, and during times when someone ovulates...if he likes that scent too.

UBIASJBFKJSABFKJSDNAKZJNFKAJSNFK JS HELP??????

I'm crying he's so fucking cute. He misses MC and that's why he's being so clingy and sniffing and being close and went to find them c h ok in fg

And MC starts going through the motions, even thinking about Minhyeok (HELLO WE ARE WITH BEEL RN FOCUS) and then finally tells him that they miss him too, and Beel is just all casual like "Yeah that's why I came to get you :D" c u t i e.

So they approach a store next where there's a knife, possibly surgical because Beel explains this

Ah, so this kinda debunks my theory that the demons here can just change their gender without any kind of surgery (you know just magically change or shapeshift that sort of thing) But it seems that the Avisos' devil's reason for swapping is for spicing up their relationships. Though, I'd like to think it's there for reasons of just devil's wanting to change their gender regardless.

Which Beel brings up "it doesn't matter if you're a man or woman, the devils of Avisos will love you either way" and it's like breaking the fourth wall for us players ^^ because they wouldn't care.

So now we're coming up on another store, and a picture of a noose shows up. Now, I made a joke to myself saying this is a fashion store for the devils of Hades...but uh seems this store is-

So I paused and was like...oh like those suicide assistance capsules we have IRL...?

And well...I didn't take all the screenshots but in short, it's a cafe that panders to those who get off on the act of dying/Asphyxiation/ being killed etc. I found the closest kink name for it: Autassassinophilia. (btw if someone else knows the closer exact name feel free to educate on this!) But yeah I was like huh, that's really not surprising that they have that there. It is Avisos. It is Hell.

Here's where it gets interesting tho-

OHHH the owner is one of Luci's bois? (probably not a noble from what it sounds like...but what if...)

And MC asks if that's okay for a devil that's not from Avisos to be having a store like that here and Beel is just like

LMAO POOR BAEL. Beel literally just lets him do everything and he can't be bothered to even know or care about the rules of his own country („ಡωಡ„)

So the date seems to come to a stopping point, and Beel calls it a "shelter". Well..

First I turned the sound on (I keep it off if there's no voice acting involved) and well the sounds from chapter one's porno thing MC was watching was used for the devil guy and chick that are randomly fucking in the "shelter" when MC and Beel first enter.

MC is literally me because they're like "Oh uh I think we're in the wrong place." And Beel's like :D NOPE!

And then there's also me, noticing that the couch is covered in fucking whatever and I'm like

im sorry that's fucking nasty please clean the damn couch 💀💀💀💀

So the reason he tells MC to say this...is because he slips their shirt off just all casual like and is teasing "Oh were you trying to help me???" YOU LITTLE SHIT YOU AIN'T SLICK. (lovingly)

This is the last screenshot I took because anything else was mostly just MC being like "wow so uh this is about to happen isn't it..." and then it cuts out as the end of the prologue.

BTW what I learned by getting the Bloodshed cards and having read the prologues to them beforehand, they literally give us the first story node in the unholy board to read so one could pretty much skip reading it when they unlock it (unless they didn't take a peek at the prologue but that's just my observation)

I'm personally gonna wait until they make it in the regular gacha pool, but I did peep that the first 10 pull is half the amount of seals...which is a good tactic to getting folks to pull with the seals. I'm saving them up though for something I reallllyyyyy want possibly a Lucifer card or something in the future. But already....Beel's is making me feel some things and seeing his sprite with that tank top is having me act the fuck up.

ANYWAYS happy pulling everyone ^^ see you when I do Levi's prologue next~

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb beelzebub #whb spoilers #whb screencaps #new card stuff! #beel is so damn hot i can't #i laugh at stupid shit sometimes i swear #tw kink mention #cw bodily fluids

[stem-sister-scuffle]

STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 1 MASHUP 5

Dr. Olivia Octavius (Spider-Man Into The Spiderverse) vs Ms. Frizzle (The Magic School Bus)

Dr. Olivia Octavius is a Quantum Physicist and Roboticist!

Ms. Frizzle is a Science Teacher!

Why you should vote for each contestant:

Dr. Olivia Octavius:

""If you stay in this dimension too long, your body’s going to disintegrate. Do you know how painful that would be, Peter Parker? You can’t imagine. And I, for one, can’t wait to watch." I love deranged evil women she is the character of all time to me"

"Dr. Olivia Octavius, also known as Doctor Octopus, is the secondary antagonist of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. She's also known as 'Liz' by her friends, one of them being Peter Parker's aunt May. She is an evil scientist, CEO of the science research & development company known as Alchemax. She's the scientific advisor for The Kingpin's inventions to open up portals to other dimensions. She's an evil woman in STEM girlboss."

"feral :)"

"Oh I heard you like mad scientist girlies???"

"I know she’s evil but I love her shes so cool. Have you seen her. I support womens wrongs <3"

"MILF. Evil. What more does she need? wowza"

"shes not the best shes the worst and she owns it. milf i mean. who said that"

"I mean. just look at her. she has the robo arms, the awesome hair. also if I recall, she's also been in science educational videos for kids"

"Proves herself as a competent fighter able to take on multiple spider-men at once, plus rocks the mad scientist look"

"Successfully works as a kids' science show presenter while also being a supervillain and working on sketchy projects. Is an absolute dork about her work and about cool phenomena in a way that's really endearing right up until she threatens to lock someone up to slowly die so she can study the phenomenon that's killing them. Probably put bugs in the microwave as a kid to see what happens.

Yes she did get hit by a truck in the fight and disappear but I fully believe she lived and ended up in some other universe.

1. She's a supervillain, she's definitely been hit by a truck before. 2. Out of everyone fighting in there she's had the most experience with this sorr of thing. While missteps are possible she would be going into it with some idea of what the risks are and how to deal with them. 3. Isekai truck trope 4. If she did end up in another universe she would totally find a way to keep herself stable there. She's got science knowledge and robotic limbs built for crime. 5. I like her and I think it would be really funny.

Why did I make this part mostly ""no she isn't dead"". It'd still be funny even if she was dead tbh.

I cosplayed her once and that is irrelevant to the poll but idk. She's fun."

"it's so rare to have female mad scientists in media like her, she's a role model to girls who want to commit crimes against the spacetime continuum everywhere. she's very important"

"She's really cute, too bad about all the murder and stuff :/ Women's wrongs, amirite?👍"

"She has a "For Science!" attitude that makes most male mad scientist look sane and safety minded. I would gladly be her intern/minion. <3"

"is only here to do science for Nefarious Purposes. science without any regard for moral cost. idk i love that this character type gets to be a milf for once. we love to see an evilgirl winning"

"mad scientist lady. cool as hell hair. evil girlboss."

"She's evil. She's evil and I love her"

"Evil milf with giant robot arms that loves chaos."

"Mastered multiple disciplines, managed to break barriers between dimensions, which even in superhero realms is a bit impressive. STEM girlies should be allowed to go a little evil/feral/unhinged. as a treat."

"She is evil! She is sexy! She employs usage of soft robotics into her prosthetic tentacles, is the head scientist at Alchemax, and quite literally built a machine that creates a portal to alternate dimensions! Get you a girl that can both make educational science videos and also rip open a portal to alternate dimensions under dubious moral conditions."

"she's sooooooo cool"

"She is a girlboss she tried to make a portal and while she’s a villain she isn’t the Evillest out there… babygirl head scientist Her glasses are shaped like octagons :3"

Ms. Frizzle:

"*gestures at entire magic school bus series*"

"Embodies the true spirit of scientific discovery: barely-contained chaos."

"She is very knowledgeable about a wide variety of sciences, and uses that knowledge to further the educations of many people. Teachers deserve the world; they do so much for so little in return. (shout out to Mrs. Goates)"

"She loves science and loves teaching kids about science. I love her. Idk I saw she only had one submission and that made me sad so now im here submitting her"

"She is an icon and has cool earrings"

"SHE'S SO COOL!!! She's so smart and so fun and genuinely just an icon. ALSO she has a little lizard on her shoulder. I saw an ask abt the submissions for Ms. Frizzle and the sender was the only person who submitted her.. I couldn't let this go. ALSO one of my professors irl called herself the irl Frizzle and she's a doctor of biology so make of that what you will"

#stem sister scuffle #round 1 #dr olivia octavius #olivia octavius #spiderman itsv #itsv #into the spider verse #spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #ms frizzle #the magic school bus

[la-pheacienne]

I will never understand people insisting that it was Jaime's fault Elia and the children died and that he didn't do his job. I don't understand why people cannot acknowledge that the multitude and diversity of factors working simultaneously and opposite to each other is precisely what creates the tragedy of the event(s), these factors being slowly morphed into a mechanism functining on its own accord, beyond any power individual decisions could have. Every single individual in this tragedy (the sack and the rebellion in general) had entirely different motivations and aspirations, and no individual had the full picture at any occasion whatsoever, and this is precisely because of the broader mechanism that was in motion that I mentioned above. And there lies the whole point, the concept of not knowing, not being able to know in advance. The idea of actions, choices, decisions having unexpected consequences that a character could not be able to imagine in advance. Things could have been different if at any point any of the individuals implicated in this event(s) knew the whole picture, or at worst, if they were more careful, more diligent, if they had made a better assessment of the situation at hand. I don't believe what happened was technically inevitable of course. It could have been avoided, which is something that amplifies the tragedy. Of course the individual decisions of any of the factors involved shaped the result. But we need to take into account all these parameters that were at play leading to each and every decision, prior to the decision itself, in order to avoid a bad faith reading of the text. We know everything that happened. The individuals did not know what would happen prior to making the decisions they made.

Rhaegar running away with Lyanna seems suspicious in general and there is definitely a lot of info missing there (which has been confirmed by grrm, meaning there was probably a reason they run away together - and i'm NOT talking about the braindead fanon theory of rhaegar collecting dragon heads like pokemons). Aside from that big hole of info we don't have that would give a solid context for this otherwise pretty inexplicable action, R and L could not have expected in advance that the events would play out in the way they did, they could not know in advance that someone (Baelish?) would spread the news of a literal kidnapping, they could not know in advance what Brandon would do, what Aerys would do, and so forth, and we don't even know when exactly they found out that all these things happened since they were isolated. They for sure could absolutely not know that Tywin, who didn't even take part in the rebellion, would eventually think it would be a great idea to randomnly order the rape and murder of Elia and the murder of the children. Nobody could ever imagine that in their right minds, yes, not-even-jaime-hello, which is precisely why this is an act of TREASON (and treason is an understatement), which is precisely why that act has such an impact and such an aura of horror and shock surrounding it, because of how unexpected and inconceivable it was, and also, how unneccessary it was, at a moment where the war was already won.

The power Rhaegar had in changing these events in any way shape or form was minimal to none, faced with the mad king that could go off the rails at any moment, the treason, the unprecedented cruelty of his enemies that were supposed to be allies, and more than that, the general mechanism already in motion leading to this tragic outcome.

Which leads me to Jaime. Jaime feels guilty for what happeend to Elia and her children, of course he does. He was there, in KL, he was sitting on the iron throne (i think that's when it happened) while the events took place and he didn't prevent them. I would also feel guilty if I were him. Who wouldn't? He was there. If he had thought this through, if he was more diligent, smarter, quicker idk, more perceptive maybe he would have figured this out sooner, maybe he would have done something, maybe he would have been able to save them. That's undoubtedly what he tells himself. Rhaegar would undoubtedly feel extreme guilt if he was alive after the sack of KL (which is a mere hypothesis since the sack of KL wouldn't have taken place had he been alive). Hell, even Ned feelts guilty for what happened to Elia and her children. That doesn't mean these people (i'm talking mainly about R and J) are actually responsible for what happened. That it is their fault that it happened. That they willingly wanted it to happen, or expected it to happen and didn't care, or let it happen in Jaime's case. Jaime's guilt stems from an error of judgement at worst, the fact that had he known every single parameter at play, had he imagined the exact motivations and intentions of a multitude of people and how far they were willing to go, had he expected what would happen in detail, he would have acted differently and maybe, maybe the result would have been different. That's not even certain, given, again, the multitude of factors at play that were beyond Jaime's power. But Jaime of course cannot help but think about the what if. The result could have been different had Jaime acted differently but Jaime acted according to the specific situation he had at hand, according to the specific problem that he had to face. He did what he thought was right in that precise moment. He didn't and couldn't possibly know what was going on outside from his sphere and if he did, we do not know for sure that he could have actually prevented the worst from happenning.

And I'm being exceptionally strict here by attributing an error of judgement to Jaime because I could have just said he was entirely innocent for what happened to Elia and the children, and it wouldn't be false. Again, error of judgement doesn't equal responsibility for what happened, it doesn't equal "moral flaw". An error of judgement does not give the reader a reason to morally judge a character. It is an entirely different thing.

I got this from Britannica :

I don't get how people can be so dense when reading anything related to the sack of KL and/or Robert's Rebellion in general. "Jaime didn't do his job", "Rhaegar led Elia and their children to their deaths" like, can you actually read? I was unnecessarily thorough here for something that is not all that complicated. It is pretty straightforward actually. It's sad that people do not get it. Like, I see BNFs being all deep and analytical about Jaime's moral struggles and dilemmas and overall tragedy and how he was in a situation that exceeded him and then they're like "rhaegar is the reason elia and the children died". From the other side I see people saying that Rhaegar couldn't have known what would happen and then they're like "Jaime didn't do his job!!!", guys. Guys. I'm begging you. I IMPLORE YOU : correcting a mischaracterization (Rhaegar was stupid/selfish for leaving """""all that responsibility""""" to Jaime) with another mischaracterization (Jaime "didn't do his job" because he's a moral coward) is not the way to go, it is done in bad faith, it erases the entire point of Robert's Rebellion along with a bunch of very important themes in asoiaf (the impossibility of choice, the fact that moral codes are actually a construct and don't always apply/sometimes contradict, and the feeling of powerlessness of an individual when faced with a monstrous mechanism, a system that is beyond their control).

#i may get hate from stans of either camp but i don't care #rhaegar and jaime's roles and motivations are entirely different so their degree of responsibility or irresponsibility is different #i'm not denying that #but i'm talking about the common denominator between them #and the fact that both of them are the object of utterly incorrect bad faith and unfair takes #and i am not interested in a play by play of who's more responsible for something NONE of them is actually responsible for #or a play by play of the degree of innocence each one of them has like leave me tf alone #i'm trying to be objective and avoid a bad faith reading of the text as much as possible #which is something that i rarely see from either camp #jaime lannister #rhaegar targaryen #sack of king's landing #robert's rebellion #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #aspa rambles #error of judgement

[angyo]

It's funny there seems to be people who think that Muu is a makima-esque master manipulator based on the information we have. Bro have you see her trying to manipulate? Her most effective move is just crying but half the time that one just feels unintentional. When it's up to her to actually use her charisma she blunders so hard. Sure she can read people very well, but her best attempt at getting her way when someone isn't laying down for her is to just say the information she has as if just saying it is how it goes.

Sure cliques are gonna be filled with blunt passive aggressive assholes, but she also doesn't seem to distinguish friend from foe and cliques don't generally like when people can't play the mind games. It may be me projecting a bit, but she seems to picture relationships as a little bit TOO transactional, her sheer inflexibility feels a bit autistic. She's got a script and she freaks out when people go off of it.

No fucking way she got those friends through sheer charisma, I'm betting they were all just sucking up to the rich kid for cash. Meaning that whatever dirt rei had on her, it managed to turn people who had already decided to put up with the rich girl. I'm leaning toward at least some of it being gay shit, like even if muu doesn't realize it she pedestalizes rei a lot for someone who thinks their revenge was justified.

But if it was just rei giving proof of muu liking girls I'd think the bullying would be more directly homophobic, so she probably had a few kinds of dirt on her.

She also seems dangerously out of touch with her emotions, while also being out of touch with other people's. People say her mvs are just straightforward but they seem to be affected by her inner turmoil she doesn't wanna think about. It's hard to verbalize but the words she says often contrast the video. In after pain she has a lot more doubt, while still not accepting any fault she thinks about it despite the info we get being the bullying she endured. Then in inmf, she sounds so sure of everything while also imagining herself as an insect and her victim as normal. She is not as confident as she tries to seem

Really she just seems like a teen who's been allowed or even encouraged to stay emotionally immature getting herself into something she can't escape. Yeah she did all that mean shit, but she also got sucked into the cycle. She shouldn't have killed rei but she was clearly losing it. Murder wasn't justified but things happen in the heat of the moment, especially if you're completely emotionally unstable and in denial of it. She wasn't lying about having a clique but she also wasn't lying about feeling suicidal.

She and haruka are perfectly matched to bring out the worst in each other. Unfortunately for her ratings, she's got an offensive mental illness. probably one of those where it's like "bad person disorder: you are a terrible shitty person and it will never change. Also you're banned from 30 countries now :)". Which is also unfortunate for haruka since he's got self loathing issues, and while audiences handle those a little better it's not enough to overpower hating a self aggrandizing girl.

Hope someone stops him. For character development i think it'd be cool for muu to panic and do it, but idk if she's aware enough of her emotions to realize she'd miss him. Tbh also worried if they're gonna use haruka as a red herring, he's acting off enough to attract attention but muu also has a history of suicidality.

Prisoners not in the know are already getting suspicious of haruka, which best case means they catch him in time. If the writers wanna be cruel it also means muu can just decide to kill herself split second if the decision hurts enough and no one will suspect her

#angyo

[biirbi]

Dndads season 2 expectations :3

Frankly I do not really know how tumblr works; just posting this to keep track of it! I just finished season 1 of dungeons and daddies a bit ago and am starting the next one soon! Here are my current thoughts/expectations:

ummummmm honestly I have no clue what's going to happen in S2- I know the premise is the doodler has returned, but besides them trying to defeat it probably, no idea. I'm excited to hopefullyy see some of my favorite s1 characters again (I am pretty much exclusively talking about Erin and Scam)! If willy shows up again im going to leave. forever. he doesn't get to be an antag for two seasons.

AND ALSO IM GONNA BE. VERY UPSET IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO THE STAMPLERS. I know scary isn't a stampler technically but I'll still refer to them all as that. but I care them so hard im gonna be so mad. all in all I just want the stamplers to be ok. and scam and erin. Also speaking of erin I hope vince dies she deserves someone with more dimensions (me)

The kids as dads!:

Honestly, I love all the kids- I cannot see them being that bad of parents (but apparently I'll find out soon!)

Adulthood clearly fucks them up SOMEHOW bc idk how they could be so awful but Sparrow (My favorite kid as of now :3) would probably just be. kinda like henry but I still think different? Like Henry is probably more protective than I imagine sparrow would be; aloof (p.s. I had a different idea of what aloof meant but I can't think of a different word so. oh well just use your imagination LMFAO) though he still is very loving! And does his best to sprinkle in life lessons even if they're not. that great. Like I'd think the worst he could fuck up his kid is not really teach him any particularly valuable life skills

Terry Jr! I love him, I'm very glad he and Ron are doing well as of now. I think he's a great kid that would make a great step-dad, especially considering the fact he knows what it's like to 1: lose his dad and 2: have an emotionally distant step-father. You'd THINK he wouldn't want a kid to also go through that but who knows I guess.

I love Grant too, and I know I've said this for all of them but honestly I have no clue what tf they do to him to possibly get him to be that bad of a dad. He was definitely traumatized by murdering that thing so I get him maybe like being emotionally distant. and like overbearing at the same time. but I wouldn't really call that being a poor parent,,,

Nicky uhhh. He confuses me I don't really know what he's like anymore since he was Glenn's kid. then Jodie's. now kinda both so honestly I've no real idea of what he's gonna be like but I still can't see him being that bad.

AND THAT REMINDS ME if hermie is presumably a grandkid of one of the preexisting s1 characters I can not figure out WHO tf might be the one that fucked him up that bad. I don't really know anything about him but it's soo obvious that he is Not gonna have a Good Time. I don't even know if he's a normal guy (normal hehe) or from the forgotten realms or>?????

Characters I'll probably get attached to

Honestly, as far as I can tell abt hermie (which I'm not really supposed to know about yet but whatever) he does seem like a character I will get attached to. And hopefully not empathize with cause that won't help. He just looks like he's designed to hold SO much trauma.

*slaps roof of hermie*

This baby can hold so much trauma in it.

I don't really have any clue abt him but. I can tell it probably won't go well for him! Also he kinda? ?? looks like an antag but also doesn't? Idk maybe an antag because of a forced hand, or more along the lines of an anti-hero? I've no idea.

Scary! She seems likeable in an. unlikeable edgy way. She's played by Beth so it can't be that hard to like her (Which I recently met someone who DOESN'T like beth!? He just hates to see a funny woman...), plus I'm a sucker for edgy emo characters. She's not actually related to ron but yknow terry's her step-dad and that's close enough.

Honestly I don't particularly take to very chipper and upbeat characters (which I'm just assuming Normal is, I could be wrong), so no clue if I'll like him. I at least probably won't dislike him as long as he's not annoying abt it.

And I have no clue what Taylor's gonna be like so really I can't say anything. He's kinda sorta related to Glenn? kinda????? and I didn't like Glenn very much at first, he did grow on me a little but idk- we'll see

I totally forgot to put lincoln in here. idk ANYTHING about him so uhh we'll see!

ermm I think I had something else to say but I forgot- I'm going to start dedicating the next 10 days while I'm by myself to probably binging all of s2. Uhhhh wish me luck!

#dungeons and daddies #dndads

[sayakxmi]

[Magi reread] Night 66: Holy Palace's Aladdin

It almost feels weird to return to Aladdin right now

Weird thingies

Idk, just that giant head is kinda silly

Also, damn, Aladdin's wobbly legs

Nvm, they aren't Schehe's clones. But it still confuses me a little, cuz I feel like it's sort of implied later on that they are? But I might be misremembering thing - I'll comment on it when I get to the Magnostadt Arc. For now it's just a bit ?? Like, it's a real possibility Ohtaka didn't plan that far ahead yet.

You look really sad about it for a guy who nearly murdered him in blind rage

Ok, to be fair, I can imagine him feeling bad about it after calming down. Still, weird choice to want to explain Alma Torran to Judar instead of, idk, Yunan for example. I feel like it would have made the whole dying-and-coming-back-over-and-over-again a little more bearable. To actually know the point of that. Bc when Aladdin and Yunan talk, Yunan admits that Ugo'd never explained anything, and in that form (the blob, probably) form he couldn't ask. So. That fucking sucked.

Anyway. Giving Solomon's Wisdom to Judar? Really? I think you're putting too much faith in that guy.

F

I... forgot that's what happened. I remembered they were the same guy, but that magic turning into one? Tbh, cool.

Pretty!

Hello there, characters nobody cares about, least of all Ohtaka

Don't worry, grls, I've got u.

Look at this annoyed Alibaba, lmao

F A T E

I mean, I jest, but it's pretty cool. Fate is one of Magi's main themes, that for sure, and to have it explained the way it is, I think it really works.

Black Sun

Honestly, I just love it being explained like that. Things becoming inverted, distorted.

Idk man, there's not much I think I can say about it. The explanation is solid on its own, and it's pretty damn cool.

Tho later Ohtaka will come and try to convince us that maybe falling isn't so bad after, yeah, sure, all these brainwashed people are a good proof of that...

That's... yeah. I was thinking about it lately, cuz I was thinking about the Kou Empire Arc.

Maybe that entire becoming more powerful god than the other guy then that guy becoming more powerful than you and then you becoming more powerful than him... etc didn't come out of nowhere here, bc Hakuryuu's falling feels kind of like that. Abra is fallen, so she works against fate, so she fucked up the fate for Hakuryuu, who then proceeded to, idk, +2 to that by also falling, and, since he's not returning things to the actual fate's course, he just makes even bigger of a mess... Which is ironic as fuck. He tried to destroy Al-Thamen by literally doing what they wanted to - sowing more chaos and disasters all around, which at worst could have led the world to an end (given Judar could cause Il Illah to descend, apparently). Idk man, put some make up on to the clown music, you fucking moron.

Like, don't get me wrong, I like Hakuryuu for the most part, but Jesus Fuck he's an idiot. This is why he's constantly painted as immature. Because he fucking is immature. He never thinks things through, has no patience to speak of once he snaps, and ends up just making everything worse for everybody and himself, and wakes up with a hand in the pot, because turns out he has no idea how to handle the aftermath of his stupidass choices, because he was too busy fucking up people's minds to consider what happens after the war.

Ok rant over.

Foreshadowing

(soon) RIP Alibaba

Honestly, that's such a cool moment.

It kind of looks cute

Idk man, awesome moment all around. The fact that all of these blobs are helping him up is really cute, too

That crying Aladdin : (

Also, not gonna lie, this feels like the theme of this arc, among other things. And I'll definitely talk about it more. It's about losing the people you love, but at the same time meeting new ones, too. Of course they won't replace them, but the point is simply you're not alone.

;;;

Honestly, it just looks aweosme

#saya's magi reread #magi #aladdin #ugo #ren hakuryuu #listen i add character tags usually when i talk about them more & i kinda went on a small rant in the middle

[schizoidthoughts]

I wish i had friends that invite me to parties & get me into circles. I feel like I'm behind glass i see everything & would like to think that i understand what needs to be done & everything but. I. Just. Can't. Seem. To. Get. In & i accidentally blow the small chances that come once in a blue moon.

I don't even know what i want. Idk. I hate parties anyway & everytime I'm at one it be the worst time of my life. Ig if I'm being more specific i want to be the ppl who go to parties & enjoy them. Idk why ig it could be the burning urge to look cool & also to not feel like I'm missing out.

I have hugee FOMO. Everytime i see someone doing anything i envy them & wish it were me who looked cool & fitted in & had a personality.

I envy everyone for everything.

I envy ppl who have friends & their place is easily secured in the groups,i wonder how they actually do that.

I envy ppl who have more money & can buy cool stuff that i won't ever have. My dreams aren't even big i don't want the big cars or all that stuff i just want cute accessories & cute clothes : something that everybody can afford to get but me.

I envy ppl who know other ppl. Like something happens & they be like yes i actually know someone who can blah blah. I don't know anybody.

I envy ppl who live soo much in their social bubble that they give the waite u don't have ANY friends? I wish i was soo out there that the thought of someone like me existing would be ridiculous to me.

I wish i didn't know someone can get this bad & this dysfunctional.

I also envy ppl who are out & it's safe for them to be.

One girl recently told me on tinder why u using a fake pic no one care enough or is going to hurt u. I wish i was that privileged. I wish i lived somewhere where the thought of what is the reality that happens in other places is so weird & overblown to me. I wish i didn't live in the parts were i got the news to delete everything &ake sure phones are clean & don't meet anybody off any app bec a man we knew has just been murdered for being gay. Idk if this girl will ever hear about that poor man. But i wish i was her. Then she had the audacity to try to jokingly tell me she's coming to murder me by knowing the little info i gave her. I hate that i live a life somewhere where i was actually scared for a bit she might not be joking when she obviously was. I was so glad i gave her a fake name. I wish i lived a life where this is something not only i see as ridiculous but also joke about because i can't seem to understand how others live.

I envy ppl who are sooo caught up in things being good for them that they can't seem to even imagine how others live.

I wish i had freedom & i wish i knew how to use it if i got it. Because if truth be told I'd still be hiding in my room either way.

It hurts seeing ppl living their life when it's literally possible & easssyyy to achieve i. just. can't.seem .to .be. able to.

I wish i didn't have this black hole for a soul. I wish i wasn't that too far gone.

#long post #messy words #i don't even know what I'm saying #resentful longing is the way to describe it

[abnerkrill]

for the emotional anguish meme: abner krill and simon monroe!! <3

thanks emyr!! please imagine me rubbing my hands together with evil glee. ***trigger warning for suicidal ideation, death, and trauma, and spoilers for the suicide squad (2021) and in the flesh.

top 5 ways to wrest anguish from abner krill:

one of those "villain mind powers puts heroes in their worst nightmare scenarios" except the worst nightmare scenario is literally just his childhood in the lab with his mom. grown-up abner screams, cries, curls up into the fetal position to try to block out the noises of his siblings screaming.

on that note, shapeshifting antagonist transforms into abner's mom OR makes his teammates look like his mom and he goes ballistic and just starts melting the people he loves <3 he's so op none of them have a defense against him. max angst!!!

put him back in a lab as an adult. maybe waller or the US government is experimenting on him to recreate the polka-dot disorder or enter the polka-dot dimension. that man is a lab rat, put him back in a cage <3

i saw something like this in a fic once i think ?? but i only read the description so idk what the specifics were. concept: an AU where abner actually teams up with starro in the suicide squad. maybe there's a psychic link there where they can communicate, maybe he's just disposed to be sympathetic towards this other being imprisoned in a cage and experimented on. he participates in the mass murder of corto maltese and also kills his former teammates. this is more about MY emotional anguish, but then also consider: at some point after it's all over, abner gets the chance to look into an alternate world where he didn't go down this path, and sees how he could've found a family with those people he so callously disintegrated. anguish and despair!

a slightly quieter one, but honestly you could have the entire TSS just slightly to the left and end up with a horrible end for abner in any other way: he chooses to run and gets his head blown off by waller, or he stays but is too cowardly to actually fight starro--thus missing out on being a hero. give him an ignoble end, no emotional catharsis, and he abandoned his team when they needed him most.

so to sum up really you can squeeze a lot of angst out of his relationship with his mom and his team because at the center of abner krill is a vast consuming hole of loneliness and self-loathing. yay!

okay, now for simon:

he actually goes through with killing kieren honestly would be number one! he's so torn between loving kieren and needing to hold true to his conviction that the second rising is necessary and good. in the show obviously he chooses kieren because... that's the kind of show it is... but if a few things had happened differently (kieren rejected him, for instance?) things could've been very different.

a riff on the above: he attempts to kill kieren and kieren is able to fight and stop him, but forever after that rejects him. simon's right back where he started, a radical who wants to change the world through fire and brimstone, in the throes of utter loneliness and lacking all sense of self apart from his mission.

look, we all know he murdered his mom while as a zombie, which is angsty enough to begin with. what if he gets force-fed blue oblivion (or better yet, has to take it as a show of loyalty to the prophet?) and goes on another spree and hurts or kills his dad too? lol.

a riff on the above: same scenario with the drug but he ends up hurting/killing someone close to kieren, like his parents. idk i just think the tension between simon's loyalty to the prophet and simon's love for kieren is so delicious.

imho the way the show uses blue oblivion didn't reach its full potential, as it seemed to crop up as something the PSD sufferers don't really want to do unless they already have a desire to hurt humans (or at least no qualms about it); i would've liked to see a new version of blue oblivion released that is actually so addictive to them that simon starts using as in small doses a coping mechanism, but he always locks himself up so he doesn't harm people. of course this goes sideways and he ends up harming people and blaming himself.

........so to sum up really you can squeeze a lot of angst out of his relationship with his parents and loyalty to the prophet and/or kieren because at the center of simon monroe is also a vast consuming hole of loneliness and self-loathing. yay?

#abner krill #simon monroe #salzundhonig #thanks for the blorbo torture wheel of the day emyr!!!!

[carolingarts]

Man okay. Imma talk about the new lore drop because hooooly shit what cool fucking lore. Evil imagineer/magician guy turned scientist?? Or (and this hit me) what if this guy legit was just a scientist guy taking *advantage* of Henry? Like then he's like "I could make shit too but he's better" so I'm like. Amazing. Showstopper. Let's gooo.

As I'm observing the discourse however I'm like...why is it the internet tendency to just *instantly* jump to the "let's just focus on the worst things" and I think like...

I have the weirdest relationship with fandom. The last time I had a fandom like this I super cared about I went full "bad guy can do no wrong (even tho bad guy was legit the *worst*) and like. I was in a bad place IRL and those threats hit me in a deeply bad way.

Like a bad way.

Like in the kind of way that stuff happened.

Now. This is fandom and honestly I got a lot of help and I'm better now. And I tried to find other fandoms put together I'm transgender but then y'know both the shows I got into got cancelled after one season so I'm like, fuck it maybe I just need to make my own thing or write about it.

The thing is that like. That's exhausting. Writers deserve a lot cause it's fucking hard sometimes and I have stuff that I can look at dealing with that but LOL round 2 and I'm observing the same stuff.

I'm legit serious. Evil bad guy scientist dude who is most definitely evil who uses what amounts to like themepark tech to murder ppl? Amazing. Better than HN. So fucking cool. I'm into it.

So...I am forced to ask, why am I triggered by this discourse and after an evening of being upset and mild panic attack I have come the following conclusions.

1) for a generation and fandom full of people who care about mental health 1- there's gonna be a lot of people who are hurt over this and I hope y'all talk to those people and talk about people sending death threats and maybe like. Make safe spaces for people who are systems and fictives. Encourage them to talk so they can like...process it. Y'all did it for bl*eycapsules. Or just remember (and I have seen this) that like this new thing is canon but your au is valid keep up with- your au.

2- would it fucking kill y'all to use tone indicators even if it's an actual joke and seems obvious completely omitting me like. There might be people who don't get it haagha edgy humor. I mean. This guy's a shithead *should be obvious* but speaking just...as me. An old asshole. People miss shit.

(I am actually a really really big proponent of "hey listen this canon version sucks *ass* why not make your own thing then change the names and make a comic about it and y'know you could add your own flare like maybe it all turns out to be the backrooms or something. Enjoy the slasher-killer but if you connected to the dude be like 'fuck you Scott and canon I'm gonna do my own thing and it's gonna be better.'

That's one of the things I love about this fandom. It *was* sandbox-like and Scott seemed to like and encourage that. Don't ask for star wars. Ask for something super cool that you can make your own even if nobody listens.

3- final note. Gonna not get personal but maybe a little bit? Idk how this might be read. So this is a warning. I'm in my 30s and I'm old. Take that into account reading this pls.

I'm trans and this space is aligned with all my special interests (themeparks, creepy entertainment companies) and I wanna be here but Scott could maybe we have another adult who...isn't a villain and isn't Vanessa?

Hear me out. I love Vanessa but I'm on a gender struggle bus. I'm old and trans and I love her but I'd like a cool...idk. just another person.

The world: Kyle! But what about Mike Afton-

Im...old. and Mike means a lot to a lot of other people and maybe this is my neurodivergency but like he and Jeremy just belong to so many people in warm and fuzzy levels...I'm old. I don't go here.

The world: ok but the animatronics-

It just doesn't work for me. Sorry. Believe me I've tried. believe me.

Anyway. Dear Scott and Steel Wool are the only like decent human beings your 2 throwaway cops in the novels and a bunch of parents who have no names and Vanessa? I know this is a kids game and it feels weird to ask but could we have grownups who are masc presenting who aren't Mike Afton and aren't y'know. Creeps like Luis?

I know it sounds stupid but it really is my neurodivergency and it is so hard to explain like. Mike and Jeremy etc belong to so many other people and what's cool about this is idk I feel like I could share that and maybe not feel like a weirdo

Anyway. Those are my thoughts. I'm just getting it out there.

#five nights at freddys pizzeria simulator #five nights at freddys fanfiction #fnaf 4 #new fnaf 4 art #fnaf4 lore #william afton #im actually so hyped like #gimme more of this #also poor rory

[bibbykins]

I just stalked you again and found out that there was a question about what would the seven princes of the campus would've done if their mc keep rejecting them and boi was hobi the meanest. Like bruh, can't imagine being forced to speak on a trial and telling everyone what had happened to you. For me honestly, it's not that hard to speak about what you experienced, what's fucking hard is that we need to convince others that what we're telling is the truth. That's what fucks me up.

Like let's think for one second that the mc's are normal human beings and lives in the world that we live in, Hoseok along with the other guys, but most specifically Hoseok, being with him would be so terrifying. Like idk, if worst comes to worst and he can't really make the mc fall in love with him again(coz who fucking leaves the girl that you're obsessed with and say all kind of mean shit just to uno reverse and try to be the knight in shining armor WHEN HES THE FIRST DUMBASS TO HURT ANGEL, who does that???) I'm imagining that murdering his mc is not off the table.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk.

Thank u for stalking hehe💖

But yeah Hoseok in Seven Princes is... a piece of work to say the least.

I totally feel you that saying the words is one thing but needing to basically convince people the truth is the truth: a goddamn nightmare. And a way for her to feel so emotionally isolated that she'd v easily run into his arms just to feel heard.

Also OOF if they were in our world omg yikes but I would say murder is just barely off the table, but only bc in his eyes, there are things way worse than death and if he has to love with the pain of her not loving him back, he'd feel emboldened to force her to witness it. Psychological torture to the max.

And that's why i love my fictional yanderes 🤩

Thank you for the ted talk 10/10 would attend again!!

#ask #seven princes of campus ask

[socksbiteshuman]

I keep thinking at what point in our lives are we allowed to point fingers at our parents, Zack?

If I wasn’t alone I could’ve easily divided us. One child to side with each parent and rotate that combination every now and then to keep peace, to make it look like it isn’t strategic. But there’s only one of me here. I cannot go ask for help.

So I have to go 50/50 between the two except, I can’t. One person is always more wrong. One person has always messed up more.

At what point are we allowed to admit that despite our parents being good people and good parents separately, sometimes we’re out in situations that demand more of us than we are equipped to give? As a child with the best parents in the world am I ever allowed to admit that they hurt me? Am I allowed to even think it to myself?

I keep trying to side more with my mom emotionally, and with my dad logically.

Our very simple tea time conversations turn into grave robberies. We keep digging up the old corpses because they’re still bleeding within us. We keep scratching the wounds and we think it’s the only way to move forward.

I am the guillotine and I keep trying to fall only and only on my own neck. I do not want to ever come close to theirs. But it feels like sometimes,

Like sometimes when you’re angry you break beautiful things even if you don’t mean to. It’s not intentional, but you might wave your hands in exasperation and accidentally hit a favourite flower vase.

But sometimes, I think yknow that that wasn’t an accident.

I know I’m not the glass vase in their eternal battle against each other, but I’m still there, Zack. And I do not understand how to explain it without sounding like a privileged princess.

But then.

Today, my dad said, my beloved dad said my mum would be left alone as an old woman cus he’d be long gone. Long gone. She’d be 80 or 90. And old and would walk with a walking stick. And he’d be long gone. And to lighten up the mood and to keep myself from bursting into anger and tears, I said “wouldn’t you be 80 too?” And he said nah.

The surety in his voice really scared me Zack. Yknow how often I imagine those moments to prepare myself, but it hurt so much to hear it.

I’m not against him wanting to leave this world as soon as he can bc god knows he’s been really put through it and he surely has nothing to live for except his responsibilities.

But it really hurt so much to hear.

He was like “i’d be gone way before that, I’m not getting old and living for that long.”

My mother had yelled at him for not being gentle during our play fights, and she told me that he used to be like this. That he always gets irritated and retaliated out of irritation, not playfulness and that he used to do it to her.

And then he said he never.

And she said, you used to hurt me. You just didn’t slap me but you used to hurt me. And he got so hurt by that accusation.

I got them off of each other and he stormed upstairs and she stayed and-

I wasn’t there Zack. I wasn’t there idk what went down and when.

But I know if I could go back in time I would murder both of them in their sleep bc they are the worst fucking crime that the Universe has ever committed.

These two getting married is the grandest most fucked up crime ever.

But nonetheless, it just.

I don’t like to think about it bc I don’t wanna be one of those people who make up problems for themselves by overthinking but then sometimes I realise that I was formed, born, I came into existence-

as a product of …

This.

Like this insanely horribly formed marriage of two people who would rather die than exist around each other,

And I came out of that.

I am the product of that.

I happened.

And I just start to feel so ugly again.

Everywhere.

Man’s I keep thinking Zack there’s nobody else here and there’s a part of me that wants to run so far from you so utterly far far away, make sure you never find me bc my responsibility in this world is to take care of them.

When they’re old.

I don’t understand it but I would lose you, You, whom I’ve desired since I was born,

to take care of them.

One wants to go as soon as he can and the other wants to stick around for as long as she can for me, Cus she doesn’t fantasise about leaving her child behind.

Im so sorry but I really don’t think I am worthy of your love, because I don’t think I have it in me to love you right. I am a product of this disaster this karmic cosmic crime.

And wherever you are, I just hope you’ll forgive me if I never find you.

Idk exactly how much I’m going to lose and how much I’m going to gain and how much both of things would be decided upon by factors beyond my control, powers older than the Sun, rules written in celestial ink.

But You. I want you to have everything. Anything and everything.

I don’t think I can ever go, Zack.

I had stopped wanting to go, I had started to want to stay.

But now I know I Have to Stay.

There really isn’t another option. One of us has to leave, it’s a very old story. All that. One of us has to stay too. And I will.

[many-gay-magpies]

JFKSNHDBS YOU MESS W THE PACK YOU GET THE SMACK SO TRUE. it’s so funny to picture it bc solon’s so tall imagine him being physically Picked Up. hilarious

I COULD ALSO TALK ABT THIS FOREVER IM JUST HERE CRYING AND THE WORST PART IS THAT WE JUST MADE IT UP . THIS ISNT EVEN REAL LORE YET IM STILL WALLOWING IN MY FEELINGS.

i just love emotionally constipated characters so much man. i’m imagining sooha begging solon to show her his wolf form with her hands clasped together and her eyes all sparkly and solon just like “ugh fine whatever” meanwhile on the inside he’s like “!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! yes pls and pet my head and tell me i’m soft” but he will Never let that leave his mouth. i think his relationship with jino and shion would be so funny bc those two are Loud and Affectionate so i can imagine them like . tackling solon in a hug whenever they cross paths in a hallway and him like “ew get off you’re crushing me what the hell” but everyone knows that he wouldn’t trade the affection for anything

U KNOW WHAT THIS EXPLAINS EVEN MORE ABT WHY THE VAMPS GET SO PISSED ABT THE WEREWOLVES BEING LIKE “ofc y’all did the murder you BLOODSUCKING VAMPIRE MONSTERS” AND THEYRE JUST LIKE “LEAVE US THE FUCK ALONE WE DONT /DO/ THAT WE’RE NOT EVEN LIKE REAL FUCKING VAMPIRES ANYWAY” it must hurt so bad to get stereotyped as vamps when they were turned by force as children

JFNSJFBDB NOOOO THE IDEA OF A STUDENT OVERHEARING THEM AND ASSUMING THEYRE FURRIES IM DYING. THE DARK MOON BOYS ARE THE WEIRD KIDS™️ OF DECELIS CONFIRMED

(oh yeah the vrvr editors are truly on Some Shit they are the wildest production staff i’ve ever seen)

-vrvr anon

KSGJGDJDH YEAH. and it would be even funnier if its one of the shorter ones that picks him up (im imagining jino because i refuse to accept that guy as the tallest of them no matter WHAT the webnovel says) and he just gets like. thrown over their shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

NO LITERALLY. PLS. HONESTLY SOME OF THE BEST/MOST COMPELLING IDEAS I TALK ABOUT WITH MY MOOTS ARE STUFF WE JUST MADE UP THAT DONT EVEN FIT WITH CANON. and even MORE frustratingly with the cuttoon that just came out today, the whole "the boys and sooha grew up as a pack together pre-orphanage" is even LESS canon-compliant bcs it was confirmed that the boys are immortal and have been around for a While. while sooha is still physically a teenager. so idk how that would work lmao

ANYWAYS besides that-- yes emotionally constipated characters are everything to me. thats honestly probably part of why i love solon so much HSJFHJFHF hes just,,, like you said sooha would ask if she could see/touch/pet him in his werewolf form and internally hed be going !!!!!!! YES PET ME TELL ME IM SOFT AND PRETTY YES I LOVE YOU OMG. then externally hes just like "ughhhh FINE i GUESS but dont expect me to do this any time you ask." then internally: "I WILL ABSOLUTELY DO THIS ANY TIME YOU ASK PLEASE ASK AS MUCH AS YOU WANT". i love jino and shion's dynamic with him because YEAH theyre both so loud and out there with their affection—shion is a cheeky little shit and jino is very sweet and genuine by nature, but they are BOTH enormous huggers, so that combined with solon would be hilarious lmao. shion bothers him on purpose by banging all over him and being uber-affectionate because he knows solon (pretends to) get annoyed by it, and jino just wholeheartedly tackles him into hugs while going :D the whole time because hes. well not OBLIVIOUS really, but he probably knows solon actually likes the hugs no matter how much he crosses his arms and acts grouchy while theyre happening.

NO YEAH WITH THE WEREWOLVES. honestly their dynamic gets even more interesting, and the vamps' REACTIONS to them make even more sense, the more we come up with this stuff. because like the wolves are all out here cursing at the decelis boys and accusing them of murder because theyre dirty disgusting blood-sucking vampires, meanwhile said vampires are just like bro,,, bro please,,, we did not WANT to be this we were literally a pack for years before this shit happened to us. we are probably more like you than we are like vampires. please. just. why. leave us ALONE. i mean no WONDER there'd be a rivalry there.

and then like in a very distant hypothetical future, when theyre all friends and the vamps have all the memories of their pre-orphanage days back, khan might make some passing comment about their old rivalry or about how they used to treat the vampires and "you're cool though, youre not at all like what we thought you were" to emphasize the way theyve changed, and heli (who i imagine is the specific vamp hes talking to) goes into a sort of many-exposition of the seven brothers' history like. "yeah we actually grew up together as a little pseudo-werewolf pack with solon because he was the only wolf and we didnt want him to be lonely, then the orphanage came and kidnapped us and wiped all our memories so we didnt remember anything from before, then experimented on us a shitton and force-fed us vampire blood in pill form to turn us against our will when we were still kids. we escaped eventually because the orphanage was abusive as shit and we were mad after realizing what they'd turned us into, and we were on the run from them for a while until we came to hide out at decelis. so yeah its kinda funny how much you stereotyped us as horrible hungry blood-sucking parasites lmao." and its just this ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLY AWKWARD ENCOUNTER because after heli says all that khan is just sitting there blank-faced like, "oh,,,, oh shit im,,,, sorry we said all that stuff about you haha,,, we wouldn't have if we knew,, thats really rough man shit" KSGJFHFJFH

LMAO YES THEY ARE THE WEIRD KIDS OF DECELIS. but nobody really realizes or notices because their attractiveness is much more attention-grabbing. but they ARE the weird kids and its so funny how everyone kinda just. accepts it lmao

(yes they really are its so fun)

#asks #anon 📝 #vrvr anon #dark moon universe #dark moon stuff #dark moon

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’a little rude.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously. What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t see it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

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

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

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“You’re late!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not,” she warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

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

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

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

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

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry hums and unclenches it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

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

Lisa smiles.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he exhales.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

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

“Effect?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which part?”

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

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

“You know, so why don’t you?”

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

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

“And what if I don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

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

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

“That’d be nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Passion.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

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

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

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

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

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

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

“How are you?” She continues.

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

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

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No one said anything about nudes!”

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

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

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

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

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

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

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

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

“Or does it?”

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

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

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

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[isakvaltersnake]

ok I have a promo based theory which takes into account the spoilery leaked photos - so yea talking leaks under the cut

feel like the way that promo was laid out means the whole thing with the flowers is just in lexi’s head cause she was talking about her imagination over that shot so those pictures that seemed like they were of fez's bullet riddled floor and him seemingly being bullet riddled as well in that exact outfit feels like it may just be a thing where lexi looks out into the crowd, sees he's not there, starts picturing the worst possible thing that could have happened.

i think they'll get raided and fez will get arrested and that's why he won't make the play but i've never bought the shoot out theories or fez dying like that cause 1) cops aren't gonna shoot a white boy, 2) why would they shoot 2 kids who they at this point suspect of murder based on the word of another criminal who would also be a prime suspect, 3) if your argument is that it's a shootout cause fez and ash start shooting first why tf would two people who've obviously been prepared to be arrested at any moment resort to shooting at the cops instead of, idk, getting a lawyer?

make it make sense. also you telling me ash isn't gonna spot that rat a mile away? pls.

#euphoria #euphoria spoilers #euphoria leaks