#like in my head he's a Twink but looking at references i was like???? oh??????

[permanentswaps]

Grindr Swap With A Twink

Read Part 1 from @ghostinthedude here.

Lets just say that college was a LOT of fun. Sure, on the outside I looked like an immature pretty boy with nothing going through his head. But on the inside, I was a self-possessed adult, who knew exactly what he wanted.

From them moment I set foot on campus, I was inundated with attention from upperclassmen guys – and even some of the younger professors – who were eager to get to get me into their beds. I won’t go too much into the details, but I definitely got around that year.

Eventually, I hit my growth spurt. Better late than never I guess. And over the course of sophomore year I had packed on about 20 lbs of muscle, grew a solid 6 inches, and got a haircut. By junior year, I was no longer a slutty bottom twink being plowed by every closeted senior on the football team, I was a sexy vers twunk making my way through the swim roster.  

All the while, I was acing all my classes, leading me to graduate Summa Cum Laude and get a job in investment banking for next year. I knew its going to be a hard path, but it made my parents so proud and it will set me up financially for the rest of my career. This week, I just moved into a brand new apartment by myself in Boston’s Back Bay. I’m due to start work in a few weeks, but I wanted to get settled in, explore the city, make some friends, and maybe even build up a roster (I’m not gonna have a ton of time to meet guys once work starts up).

---

That’s why tonight, I found myself scrolling through Grindr. Here's my profile pics btw:

There’s quite a selection to choose from. Hmmm, the international guys from Harvard seem kinda hot, but I bet they’re super full of themselves. What about a true Boston native, there’s something weirdly sexy about their accents.

I kept scrolling until one guy caught my eye, making my stomach flip. It was my old body, he had tapped my profile. That's weird, I thought he would still be in Cincinnati. But anyway, his profile is kinda super hot:

"Hey, what's up," I messaged.

"Hey cutie, how's it going?" he replied.

"Alright alright, just moved to town, looking for some fun," I joked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Hahaha, I love some fun," he replied, his enthusiasm evident even through text. "Top or bttm?"

"Vers ;)" I replied.

"I can work with that," he replied eagerly. "So, what's your name?"

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. "You really don't know?"

"No, why would I, cutie?" he responded.

"I just figured you'd remember your own face after all these years," I teased, adding, "Although I guess it's not your face anymore."

"OMG.”

I quickly sent him my location, to which he responded almost immediately, “Be there in 20.”

---

"Shit," he said as he walked through the door, looking around wide eyed. "This place is super nice."

"Yeah, I mean, it's not totally furnished yet, but it's pretty nice," I replied, trying to downplay it a bit.

"How did you afford it? I know my parents don’t exactly have deep pockets," he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

"Yeah, actually," I began, feeling a pang of sympathy for my former self, "I got such good grades freshman year that I actually got a scholarship for the rest of college. And now..."

My old body's expression shifted, a hint of sadness creeping in.

“And now, I’ll be making 110k starting with no loans. So yeah mom and dad didn’t really need to give me anything.” I said, feeling a bit odd that he still referred to them as his parents. “And how about you," I asked, trying to keep the conversation going. "Where are you living these days?"

"Oh, I have a shared flat in Dorchester," he replied. "It's nothing special, but it's all I can afford on a bartender's salary."

"You moved all the way out here for a bartending gig?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said with a shrug. "I didn't really have a choice. I got fired from my last job for showing up late too many times and kinda got blacklisted from all the good bars in Cincinnati. But a buddy who had moved out here set me up with a new gig. It's okay, I guess."

"But anyway," he said, changing the subject, "look at you, you've done really well for yourself."

I couldn't help but smirk as I ran my hand down my toned abs. He wasn't wrong.

"And you," I said, diverting the attention away from myself, "you must still be pulling in all the hot twinks with that bod."

"Hahaha, yeah," he replied, his confidence shining through. "Although none of them are as sexy as you are."

His compliment caught me off guard, but I couldn't help but be drawn in as he pulled me in for a kiss. The chemistry between us was undeniable as we quickly made our way to the bedroom, shedding our clothes with eager anticipation.

He climbed on top of me, his lips finding their way to my eager member. I couldn't help but marvel at how he still remembered all the right moves. Within minutes, he had me on the edge, his skilled hands finding their way to my sensitive nipples, pushing me to climax.

With a satisfied grin, he eagerly swallowed every last drop of my load. Luckily for him, I had a rapid recharge time, and I was ready to go for round two within minutes.

As he whipped out his beer can thick cock, memories flooded back. I remembered that thing—it was definitely fun to top twinks, or twunks like myself, back in the day.

In doggy, he hugged my body tightly, in a way that felt almost nostalgic. It was almost like he was reminiscing about living in this body, even though it didn’t look anything like this when he last had it.

Then, with surprising finesse, he flipped me over into missionary, his eyes locking with mine as our bodies moved in sync.

In a half-whisper, he asked me a question that caught me off guard: "Can we swap back?"

Just then, it dawned on me. To swap back, we both needed to swallow each other’s cum. Panic surged through me. He had already swallowed mine. Shit.

Still thrusting into me, he paused, his eyes searching mine with a mix of desperation and longing. "No, you don’t understand," he pleaded. "This could’ve been my life."

Struggling to fight him through the ecstasy I was feeling from his cock plunging into me, I shook my head. "No, it wouldn’t be," I gasped out between breaths. "You'd never work hard enough for this."

I looked up and saw a look come across his face that I’d know anywhere. He was about to cum. I couldn't let him pull out and risk the chance of him trying to shoot his load all over my face.

Quickly, I pushed him backwards and positioned myself on top of him, impaling myself on his throbbing cock in cowboy. He looked up at me, a mixture of bliss and regret evident in his expression as his load erupted.

Relieved but seething with anger, I stepped off the bed and quickly grabbed his pants, tossing them at him with a firm command. "Get out," I said, my voice carrying an edge of finality. "And don't contact me again."

He silently complied, skulking towards the door where he saw himself out. Locking it behind him, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

Returning to the bedroom mirror, I faced my reflection with a newfound clarity. Taking a good, hard look at myself, I uttered the words that had been swirling in my mind.

"I am Devin Connors," I declared, the weight of the statement settling over me. "And I deserve everything that I’ve worked for."

Really happy with how this one turned out. Let me know if you have any suggestions for which story I should finish next.

[fobnsfwdoodles]

Oli Sykes from Bring Me The Horizon commission!

Based off of the fic below!

✨A special thank you to the person who commissioned this for keeping the blog alive ☺️☺️☺️ you help fund fob porn for the rest of us 🫶✨

Also I believe this is the first non fob commission from this blog 🥺‼️ kind of a big special day!!

#how did i never notice he is kinda built 😳 #like in my head he's a Twink but looking at references i was like???? oh?????? #i love doing tender art work so much thank you so so much for trusting me with your bmth commission! #don't worry this is still a fob blog i am just happy to do some crossover with other bandoms :3 #oli #bmth #commission #safe to reblog #art

[halfghostwriter]

Wraith Radio Pt. 2

Part 1

“You’re listening to Wraith Radio, your number one link to the living realm. I’m your host, the wandering ghost, Ellie Phantom. It’s day two of my adventure in Gotham City, and I gotta say, today was… wild. Bit of context for those who missed the start of yesterday’s show, long story short, I publicly told the Red Hood that I would wait for him at this place called Park Row so I could take him to a doctor in the ghost zone because his body is bad.

After I ended the show, I got this call from my cousin, Danny. He and his friends back in Amity had been listening, and they think that, because I never showed off any of my powers or anything, and cause I look like any other human, he might not have actually believed I was a ghost. Which, fair, I guess.

So now I’m thinking, ‘well, no big deal, I can just show him my ghost form.’ Buuuuut then I remember the stupid amount of curses and stuff all around this city, and as part of the ghost population who technically never experienced death— no, that time I melted does not count— I’d like to prolong that experience for as long as possible if you don’t mind. Where was I? Oh right, so now I’m thinking, ‘well, no problem, I can just open up a portal, bring him to the zone, and transform there.’ Quick, simple, no problem.

So we come to today. I’m at the meeting spot, it’s five minutes to the meeting time, and I’m sitting on the edge of this rooftop, keeping an eye out for the arrival of the Red Hood.

And then a building blows up.

Right across the street, the top floor of this sketchy run down place I had been staring at, just. Boom! And then I hear all these gunshots, and screaming, and I look down at my watch, and I have about four minutes before noon, so I turn invisible, float over, and poke my head through the wall. Right there, center of the room, I see Batman, Robin, Red Robin, and Red Hood fighting this… I dunno, skinny twink with like a burlap sack over his head? Look, it took me a week to memorize the Gotham vigilante’s names and costumes alone, I wasn’t going out of my way to look up their entire rogues gallery. But anyway, they’re fighting this guy and a bunch of people who I assume are working for this guy, and I see some people tied up in the corner screaming their heads off for no clear reason. I mean, yes, I know it’s scary being tied up by an evil scarecrow of a man, but when I say screaming, I don’t mean ‘please, save me, I’m in distress’ screaming, I mean ‘the soulshredder just sliced through me and now I’m seeing my worst fears manifested in front of my eyes’ screaming.

So I get a little closer, I land on the floor, and just, to go off on a bit of a tangent for a second, the Gotham vigilantes are just. So much taller than me. I felt so incredibly tiny being in the same room as them. Like, yeah, I know I’m short, but I had hoped that I would at least be the same height as Robin, but no. I swear, every time I stand next to someone who’s supposed to be close to my ‘physical’ age, I become more and more convinced that the billionaire who made me had absolutely no idea what he was doing. He brought me to life and was like ‘you’re a twelve year old!’ and I was like ‘you’re right!’ because I had no frame of reference because I was born that morning. Anyway, so I get closer to the screeching humans being held against their will, and I feel this scratchy, almost burning feeling in the back of my throat. I try to brush it off, but then I look down, and I see my body fucking melting.

Now this isn’t be my first time melting, so my first thought isn’t ‘oh god I’m gonna go from half to full ghost,’ or even ‘ugh this shit again,’ but rather ‘why the fuck doesn’t this hurt?’ Because I know exactly what melting is supposed to feel like, and it isn’t a feeling you can just ignore. Like, I can’t really describe it to someone who’s never had every muscle in their body suddenly coalesce into one, with every attached nerve ending screaming louder than a heavy metal band, but trust me when I say that the “pain” I was feeling was barely anything compared to actually melting, like it felt more like my skin was itchy than anything. So, I try poking one of the places where my body is melting— don’t ask me why, I don’t really know why I did it— and instead of feeling ectoplasm drip over my hands, I just feel… my arm. And I realize, ‘oh, not only is this just an illusion, it’s a shitty one.’ Or, y’know, at the very least one that doesn’t work too well on a halfa.

So I shake that off, cause yeah, I don’t like seeing myself melt again, but as long as it’s not actually happening again, I’m good. Plus, if it does start again, I do still have my extra ecto dejectos in my bag, and yes, Danny, I will call you if it actually happens, sorry if I almost gave you a heart attack a few minutes ago. Anyway, I turn back to all the tied up screaming people, and I notice these, like, fog-machine-looking-thing next to all of them, and I get closer to one, and the scratchy feeling at the back of my throat gets worse, so now I’m thinking ‘oh, this must be what’s causing everyone to see things.’ So I turn my arm intangible, stick it into this machine, and I pull out this bottle of just… the worst smelling chemicals I’ve ever been near, which is saying a lot for someone born and raised in a basement lab. But, it stops the fog machine, so I plug it with some stuff from my bag, and pocket it so I can’t smell it anymore. I keep doing this to each of the nearby machines, and eventually the front pocket of my bag is just completely stuffed with gross chemicals.

So that’s over with, and I look over to see if the fight’s done, but no, they’re all still going at it, which means I still can’t talk to Red Hood and get him to the Zone, so I figure I have some time to kill. And I remember that there’s, like, ten or so people tied up against their will, so I start freeing all of them. Obviously, the ropes themselves are really easy, all I really need to do is phase them off. The people, on the other hand, are crazy hard to get to actually do anything other than scream. Like, I try pushing people towards the exit, I try dragging them across the floor, anything to get them to leave the building which is— in case you forgot— on fire. I mean it’s just the top floor, but I’ve heard from Ember that a fire anywhere in the house could be the cause of a human’s death, especially if no one’s watching it, and I doubt that anyone is actually watching that fire.

So now I’m kinda panicking, cause I was hoping the fight would be over by now and all these people would have been brought outside, but not only is the fight not over, I look over and see the bad guy throw these cans over at the people, and I realize that they’re giving off the exact same poison-fog as the machines from earlier. And I’m just. So pissed off. Like, I just took care of that!! For all I knew, that illusion stuff could’ve worn off in a few minutes, and I wouldn’t have to worry about keeping all these people alive!!

Side note— Danny. I get it now. I get the whole ‘desperate need to protect any and all humans’ feeling you were talking about.

They are just… so easy to put into danger.

Holy shit.

Anyway, I’m feeling that whole ‘selfless anger on behalf of strangers’ thing for the first time, and I think it turns my brain off, cause I just pick up the cans and throw them at the bad guys head while yelling ‘FUCK YOU, DIPSHIT!’

And my invisibility drops.

So.

Not my best decision.

But not my worst, because my aim was perfect.

I’m pretty sure I knocked him unconscious, but I’ll be honest I wasn’t really paying attention to that guy anymore because I had just revealed one of my abilities— not to mention I think my eyes were glowing— in front of the fucking Batman. Now, I don’t know if the rumors about him hating metas are true, but I do know that most humans fucking hate ghosts, that I definitely don’t know what he thinks I am, and that I’m not risking my ass to find out. So, invisibility goes back up, and I start to book it before I remember that the whole fucking reason I showed up was to help out Red Hood. So I take a flyer, write “sorry, try again tomorrow?” on the back, and then I get the fuck out.

I wind up flying so fast back to this little hideout I’m staying at that I guess I wound up jostling some things in my bag? Yeah, by the time I get back, I feel this… leaking through my bag. And I take it off, so I can check out the damage, and uh…

Ok, so remember how I mentioned those ecto dejectos I keep on me? Well, I tend to keep them in the front pocket. And the scary-illusion-liquid-stuff was also put in the front pocket. And one of the bottles and an ecto-dejecto hit each other just a bit too hard. And apparently. When these two things are combined. You get… a blob ghost. Who only knows how to melt.

I’ve named him Goop, and he’s the most pathetic creature I’ve seen in my life. He just melts until all of his body is liquid, then it all just blorps back together. He’s solid for like a second, then he starts to melt again. Also he keeps trying to drink the scary-illusion-liquid. I’ve been holding him in my lap this entire time, and while he’s not hard to stop, I do still need to sleep, so if anyone has any advice on how to handle a mutant blob ghost, I’m all ears. Also, if theres any specific way to get rid of mysterious chemicals that honestly shouldn’t exist, please tell me, otherwise I’m just gonna find a sink and dump it.

Anyway, that’s enough about my day, onto things I’ve heard about the city…”

————————

The batfam stared silently at the glowing radio that Jason had brought.

And an unspoken agreement was reached.

Meta, ghost, whatever— this was a child with absolutely no adult supervision, severe trauma, an unknown set of powers, and a ridiculous amount of fear toxin. Not to mention something that she described to be a “mutant blob ghost.”

It was time to do a bit of research into the kid.

Or, it would, were it not for the fact that “Wraith Radio” didn’t seem to exist online, nor did “Ellie Phantom.” It was also likely she used a fake name for her show, since there didn’t seem to be any records of an “Ellie Phantom” anywhere.

Of course, that wasn’t enough to deter them. After all, she herself had mentioned her family.

And so, they began looking into Amity and her cousin, Danny.

#danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dc x dp #danielle phantom #wraith radio

[ma-lark-ey]

Lark Liveblogs Literature: THE SUNSHINE COURT BABYYYYY LETS GO JEAN

to begin: THE COVER???

The fucking NARCISSUS/DAFFODIL. Stop stop stop. Nora stop. She said it wouldn’t be a sun but I WASNT READY.

RESILIENCE. FIRST BLOOM AT THE END OF WINTER. NEW BEGINNINGS AND REBIRTH.

warning in advance for how many reaction images will be in this post. Miss Nora Sakavic has a way of making me unable to verbalise how devistated I am so I turn to goofy photos.

Also, just so we’re all on the same page:

it’s 1:20 AM. My roommate IS asleep. I am fighting the demons (downloading this book) but i am winning (it is queued on my kindle)

ITS DOWNLOADED LETS GO

Okay so context is that my Kindle is at 10%

I tried to go to bed and read this in the morning but I am

SO NOW I HAVE FRANTICALLY FOUGHT A WAR (figured out how to get this book) AND I AM READY FOR BATTLE (to cry over Jean)

ONE, TWO, THREE, LETS GO BITCH!!

Also my kindle cord is too small for me to properly lay in bed so im literally about to lay on my stomach kicking my feet like a middle schooler WISH. ME. LUCK.

CHAPTER ONE:

oh we’re jumping right in okay. god. hi baby :((

OH. I am just adding onto my #1 Riko hater agenda right now.

“The golden rule— not where the public can see” DIE. LITERALLY DIE TETSUJI

“The lack of broken fingers this time” THIS TIME??? JEAN. JEAN.

im so.

RENEE!!!

“and he had wasted them texting Renee a heads-up.” Nora please we’re only four pages in bro

Renee i love you im marrying you please give me a kiss. Mwah Mwah Mwah. She said “Bitch. Lay back down.”

currently also reading a batshit raven!neil fic and just. on the ground. about all of this.

stop the way I literally went “who the fuck is Nathaniel” Im too transgender for this.

Me, seeing the Abby content we need in this world:

Jean dont call that hellscape home bbg

Renee beating self worth into this man. ily

“Jean couldnt remember the last time he was allowed to wear color” LITERALLY KILL ME

Nora I need you to be less good at describing pain please and thanks

NOT THE BITING

DADMACK DADMACK DADMACK DADMACK!!

he fr be moving this man like a doll. love you wymack

tied him up with racquet laces I. h. lays on floor softly crying.

NOT THE DADDY ISSUES

Jean fr out here plotting 50 ways to kill his brother. he fr though Neil was the problem. no girl Neil just has no tact and autism rizz. Kevins the fucking snitch

no one:

Jean @ the Moriyamas;

“that man is years overdue for a head-on high-speed collision” YOU TELL EM DADMACK

CHAPTER TWO:

Jean please just sleep like a normal human man. God.

Even Jean be out here like “Kevins a little Chihuahua ass drama queen. Bitchboy. Wet cat man.”

Kevin: look, bro, if the 5’3 twink with enough daddy issues to make riko blush and chugs ‘fuck around and find out’ juice for breakfast can escape the moriyamas and not die, so can you.

Testuji. Testuji when I catch you. Tetsuji

Jean what the fuck makes you think anyone but Andrew Minyard will ever tell Neil what to do. Girl.

“If I am not a Raven, who am I?” A MOTHERCUCKING TROJAN BABYYYY

“I have to go to my next class.” I forgot they were in college deadass. Neil is straight up my age im gonna throw up.

Okay. It is. *checks time* 3 AM. I cannot keep my eyes open, which means i must put Jean away for sleep.

ITS IS NOON THE FOLLOWING DAY. I HAVE SLEPT. I HAVE TAKEN MY MEDICATIONS. TIME TO HYPERFOCUS BABY.

KINDLE SAYS WE HAVE 8 hrs 27 mins LEFT IN THIS BOOK. IM SAYING GOODBYE TO MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY. I’LL SEE Y’ALL AT DINNEE TIME. ITS JEAN TIME.

Hiiiiiii Thea….

“Good morning, Paris.” Now, the average man will see this as a reference to his frenchness. but real ones know Paris is prince of Troy, the man who married Helen of Troy & started the Trojan war.

do y’all think Jean has a french accent wait wait wait. obviously itd be very slight at this point but is it there. necessary question.

Assessing Thea like a fucking state exam right now. Neil could not have cared less about your ass I am gaining so much information

Hate of my life Riko moriyama.

CHAPTER THREE:

JEREMY FUCKING KNOW HI BAYYYBY

the way I literally got up and had to pace and stim for a moment even though I fully expected this. autism. my roommate is concerned. not really. she’s used to this she watched me read TKM and dramatically reenact the Ichirou Car Talk.

wow??? AFTG team actually seems happy and well-adjusted and friendly with each other??

Random Note: I’m currently watching Blue Exorcist & one of the main characters is a girl name Moriyama and I’m literally just sitting here like “This girl is way to nice and innocent to have that name.” Because she literally is the nicest girl to ever exist. Why is she cursed with the same name as my mortal enemy (Testuji)

“Tonight’s experiment was the icing on the cake, an invaluable experience no matter how it ended.” Jeremy, my love.

He has empathy… Never before seen footage. Y’all get the cameras!!

He’s so shaken about Jean,,, holding you so gently Jeremy. Here as a guy who knows nothing at all about Jeremy since I’m. so new here. but god.

Jeremy: are you sure a Raven can abide by Troja—

Kevin: Bro Jean is so pathetic he’s a bottom fr. He never disobeys an order

Jeremy: I. Okay you didnt have to say it like that, bro.

I will literally never stop respecting the Trojans strat in the final they really said. “If these fucks can win the championships with nine players, surely we can.” and then willingly got their asses handed to them.

“Xavier stumbled when he got the next serve off, and the Fox guarding him gamely hauled him back upright before running for the ball. It was a simple gesture, but it endeared Jeremy to them” I dont remember if this bit was described in tkm so i’m going to guess that’s Nicky or Matt. Aaron would fucking never.

Nah because like. Yes this proved to the Trojans how resilient the Foxes were, but it was also a message to the audience, yk? Like we know the Foxes were getting shit for their quick rise to the top after they pulled their shit together, but I personally think that the Trojans did this both for their improvement & for Foxes’ publicity. This game proved to the public at large how devastatingly *good* the Foxes were, because of their small size. The second best team in the league crumbled playing the same conditions the Foxes did *every game* and got to championships with. They proved that Foxes were, in fact, a D1 team who earned their keep.

oh hes got daddy’s money. Well. not. officially. yo what I mean.

“it was always best to have a paper trail” Neil Josten would have an anuerysm hearing those words.

Bye Jeremy I’m. Love you so much. Why do you feel like a sixty year old man in your early twenties.

“between seven and twelve students.” yikes.

“unfamiliar and accented voice.” I WAS RIGHT I FUCKING CALLED IY HES GOT AN ACCENT BABY FUCK YEAH

“you ever feel like— like you’re making a choice you cant come back from? But even knowing everything could go completely sideways, you’d make that choice every time?” okay so coming out allegories i could make aside, Jeremy is so… where to start with him. He reminds me of Percy Jackson. Endlessly loyal and selfless to the point its a bit stupid but endearingly stupid.

CHAPTER FOUR:

Okay so we’re alresdy hateflirting. noted.

Its also extremely sunny today in Podunk Hicksville where I live so it feels very On Brand.

“Jean had seen that smile in a half-dozen broadcast… He could picture it too easily, and he dug his fingernails into his own face in vicious warning.” Awww you think you can best the gay worms in your brain. goodluck with that Johnny.

“isn’t that reason enough to keep living? To rediscover simple delight one moment at a time,” keeping this quote for eternity

“enough sunlight to chase away Evermore’s shadows. They are willing to take a chance on you. Aren’t you?”

Kevin Day autistic king. taking this hesdcannon to my grave .

“the conspiracy theorists were working overtime” no girl they just aint stupid.

THEY DESTROYED HIS POSTCARDS…

CHAPTER FIVE:

I want to start keeping record of all the times Jean is like “[name] wasn’t decent enough to [thing]” because its SO funny. We LOVE a petty king.

also keeping track of all the insults he throws at Neil.

Neil likes to think he’s SUUUUCH a loner boy no friends angsty “dont speak to me” resting bitch face ass motherfucker. In reality he is a jack russell terrier — ceritifed jack russell owner who’s dog thinks hes soooo big and bad but said dog literally cries when you dont let him in the bed or say hi to people on the street

Jean is SOOOOOO dramatic 😭😭

Jean: Why would you let Kevin do this.

Neil: let him?? He did that on his own.

Jean: you’re proud of him for being a problem, arent you?

Neil: oh you fucking know I am, bitchass

“but other than his outstanding murder charge there was nothing interesting about that Fox.” i’d consider that very interesting information, Jean. Youre just deranged

“with milk, juice, and vodka dominating one shelf” that’s Aaron, Nicky, Andrew/Kevin in order. Im correct.

“There was an entire drawer dedicated to cheese.” Yeah that sounds like Nicky.

“Half the drawer was full of mini candy bars. Jean threw them all into the trash” bro Andrew is going to kill you in cold blood and not even Neil can save you.

Jean is SO dramatic. Give him Kevin’s crown.

Jean @ Neil during the final: ARE YOU WITHOUT INTELLIGENCE????? ARE YOU STUPID??? DO YOU WANT TO DIE??

Seeing the media coverage of the championship is the food I needed thank you Nora for this. I am eating it up. om nom nom

The sportscasters referring to athletes with their first name is batshit. What. why. huh. Absolutely not.

CHAPTER SIX:

Renee protecting Jean from discovering Riko’s death through media & not through them…

Everytime boys start fistfighting in this series I hear Roxanne from Megamind. “Ladies, ladies, you’re BOTH pretty.”

a) Jeans reaction to finding out was exaclty what I expected

b) I’m FASCINATED to know who called campus security. Jeremy?? Renee?? Someone in Fox tower???

Neil was gentle with someone other than Andrew? I didnt know he knew how to do that…

NEIL. NEIL JOSTEN. YEAH BABY

HES ROOMING WITH CAT AND LAILA??? YES YEA YES YESY

the Jean-Renee dynamic is so fucking important to me. MLM/WLW solidarity. theyre besties.

THEYRE SO IMPORTANT TO ME BRO.

Literally snuggling Jeremy

Oh he’s got Fox potential. Hiiii Jeremy. Give me the traumadump bbg

THEY/THEM??? DO MY EYES DECEIVE ME OR IS THIS AN HONEST TO GOD THEY/THEM PLAYER OH ILL CRY. ILL CRU RIGHT NOW

CHAPTER SEVEN:

Oh Jean. you’re about to have such a gay awakening babe i can feel it in my bones.

A FUCKING YOYO??? I LOVE HIM

“A mite bit hecked up” PLEEEASE JUST SAY FUCK /ref

OH HE WAS IN LOVE WITH KEVIN. INTERESTING INTERESTING INTERESTING.

autism coded lookingg motherfucker (stares at Jean.)

The chaos of Cat and Laila’s house is so fucking cute. Its about to be two lesbians and their distrustful pitbull rescue in this bitch and im ready for it.

CHAPTER EIGHT:

watching normal people discover the cult that is Evermore. Finally someone having a normal response to that madness. What the FUCK.

wait theres actually a cardboard dog i thought it was fanon joke.

oh my god there is actually a fucking cardboard dog. i.

jeans brain just got actually shattered by this living room. he cannot comprehend this.

Cat & Jeremy, realizing the cult rumors are real: I THOUGHT YOU WERE KIDDING! I thought it was joke! I even wrote it down in my diary! “Kevin made a very funny joke today!” I laughed at it later that night!

Okay, last night; I went to bed at 2:30 AM 45% through (college my beloathed). we’re back in business.

Jeremy is so disturbed all of the time. goofy ass.

“Loving something is not enough,”

“When was the last time you enjoyed playing?”

“ Irrelevant.”

Whats his shirt look like Jeremy. Jeremy whats the shirt look like. Jeremy. Whats the shirt look like.

Okay so I’ve reached my image limit for this post and I dont have fun reaction images on my laptop. so now I will post this & reblog with the rest of this book.

#lark says #aftg #all for the game #the sunshine court #tsc #tsc spoilers #the sunshine court spoilers #In order of men: Jeremy Knox. Neil. EVERYONE ELSE. Riko….. Nathan— /ref

[rovimrtheduck]

Stuff I've heard at school: Part 15

He didn't lose a braincell he lost the entire brain

So throughout the game he kept going 'you don't want my chunky dick?'

I do not care about your bowl movements

No one cares about your asshole

Strawberry twink

He would taste like strawberry mochi

It would look like someone exploded

P1: Those tasted like my gandmas house

P2: why are you eating your grandmas house

P1: "My grandpas not dead. The other one is, but this one isn't"

P2: "Give him time"

Teacher: yeah that's right! lower your head in shame! lower! lower!

Student, doing a walk of shame for overdue work: any lower than this and I'll be crawling!

Quebec French just, SOUNDS like they're cursing you out

This guy's hiding the fact that he, like, ties a kite to his phone

I was just going to say he has really child bearing hips

P1: "Debrah (a rifle gun) would be happy"

P2: "What's debrahs beef with me"

P1: "She doesn't like you because you've used her one too many times lol"

P2: "…is that a terrorist joke?"

P1: "yeah"

P2: "haha okay cool just checking hahaha"

Please lets refrain from calling teachers twinks

P1: "Guatamala"

P2: "That says Gujrat"

P1: "Guatamalaaa"

P2: "I guess I'm guatamalan now? lol"

P1: "Yeah you're guava"

P1, to P3: Yeah, well, I'm not Indian P2, distracted by his phone: You mean Indigenous P1, gesturing to P3, who is Indian: No I mean Indian P2, not looking up: Yeah, the proper term is Indigenous P1, aggressively gesturing to P3, who is waving awkwardly: No, I mean INDIAN P2, finally looking up: OHH! I thought you were talking about Indigenous 'Indian'! My bad, my bad.

what the hap just fuckened

P1: "Drank perfumes?"

P2: "What?"

P1: "All I heard was you went to bath and body works to drink perfume"

Do you know how balls deep I need to be in a story to be effectively begging my screen to kill off a character?

That is the sauciest look I've ever seen someone give me

Because when they're going out to no-mans land that what they're thinking, 'I want a really nice tank, very visually pleasing tank, I don't want that Mark One'

"Yo, FUCK him I'd smash his mom"

+ "Yeah and after we're done I'm going to look him dead in the eye and say 'I fucked your mom'"

P1: "Thank you for violating my (oc) characters"

P2, in an uncomfortably eager voice: "I can violate them even more if you want"

"It's the cummie water from school" sips "oh yeah, that is cum"

"Where did you get these genes from"

*looks down at his jeans* "Old Navy?"

"and he goes 'My body is my resume!' and takes his shirt off, and I showed it to my manager because I had no idea what to say"

They literally pickled a baby! (in reference to Ares mythology)

You can either be gay or funny, choose one

I identify as out of this-world

The G in LGBT stands for God

OoOoh, I don't know what I did, but I am learning SO MUCH.

Dionysus is his tumor then!

This is my tumor, he's a drunken little shit who we decided to banish to earth for a while

Blowjobs, for anyone who isn't a sex worker, should be called blowhobbies

What do you call two Jewish stoner in a car? A gas chamber

It's not because you're a rabbit, it's bc you're black!

I inhaled a piece of cheese and it won't get UNINHAILED *coughing*

Who needs their liver anyway

We're the testicles

Why did you give me that look? You look like a child seeing their father for the first time after getting the milk

UM NO. I think that's YOU little miss toe-socks

Even your writing looks dyslexic

Lycan we're both failing math, I don't need this right now.

Reverse racism, but not like, in a racist way

Wow, you even SOUND dyslexic

#high school #fun times #dialogue prompt #i was told my school is the ohio of high schools #writers block #use these as you wish #prompt list #quotes #funny

[bobbybutterfly]

Elliott art dump!

These pictures are quite mid so I decided to post a whole bunch of them at once. Back when I was starting Tumblr I really wanted as much likes as possible. Yeah. It’s cringe. But I’m a furry. I’m all cringe. It’s especially cringe because likes and followers don’t matter much on Tumblr. You’re never gonna make any money on here! Oh boy. Isn’t being disabled and incapable of work fun!

Well. Now I got some stability with responses. About four per non Squirrel and Hedgehog related stuff. In the past I would spit these three into separate posts. Thus gaining about 12 likes if I’m lucky all together. But now I will post them all together because I’m not such an attention whore anymore.

So now about these fellas. The first Elliott is actually the last one with the sea background. I wanted to impress with the best one so I put the latest one to show first. But this sea background one. He was an attempt at the jelly art style. I still have a long way to go, don’t I? He’s kind of cute. Though he could use more polish. They all could. He was supposed to be more realistic but after I finished the sketch I didn’t pay much attention to the reference photo. A lot of the time my painting don’t have the best of anatomy. That’s quite strange because anatomy in my sketches while not perfect is pretty good. My art teacher said that it’s because I get so engrossed in painting I forget to pay attention to it.

I did learn something on this piece though. Using the blend tool. I first block out under my sketch with a flat base paint. Then I add (lol I wrote ass by accident!) a clipping layer onto the flat base. There I do all the colours. Then I merge the base and the colours to blend it. Don’t forget to use alpha lock! Then merge that with the sketch layer on top. Blend away the lines. Switch off alpha lock and do the polishing.

Got all that? No? You didn’t understand a word what I just said? Ehm. Moving on.

The middle one. I quite like this one. Even though I didn’t do enough blending around the eyes so he got some sick eyeliner. By now you noticed that Elliott doesn’t look the most like his in game appearance. I really love the earlier designs. He’s just so dorky! I also base my head cannon version of him from the actor Haruma Muira. I’ve got a whole bunch written about my head cannon if you’re willing to scroll for two hours down my blog. There’s not much to say about this drawing. It’s sketchy. It works. I went lazy with the sweater. It turned out pretty good.

Now the top one. The eye catching furry version of Elliott. I drew him as antro lion before. But then I remembered that lions are supposed to have a collar like mane. Not just hair on top. For the life of me I couldn’t figure out how to make him a twink though!!! I did challenge @32girassoisdevangogh but it seems they chickened out! That or they have more important stuff to attend to…

IMPORTANT!!! IMPORTANT!!!!

@32girassoisdevangogh is not a chicken!!! They drew Elliott as both a lion and a Iriomote catand did and incredible job doing so! Really taught me not to do cheap jabs at people because they will make a big fool of you!!

INTERMISSION OVER!

So I changed the species to a Iriomote cat. Which works far more for the story I have for him. My head cannon is he’s a 2nd generation immigrant from the Gotoro Empire, which is like Stardew’s version of Japan in my head. Everyone thinks he’s white because though he has monolid eyes and bronzish skin (when he dares to go out his cabin) he still got ocean blue eyes and red hair. Iriomote cats do look like your usual street cat unless you look close. I won’t have him be a furry if I ever get around to writing the fanfic about him. I don’t want Zootopia 2 Bad Racism Allegory Boogaloo.

This picture looks… alright. I have a lot of learning to do when it comes to digital paintings. Do you have some suggestions for what I should work on? I draw in Procreate.

Bobby out!

#my art #fanart #procreate #digital art #furry art #stardew valley #stardew elliott #digital painting #art criticism #give art advice please!

[small-strong-bookish-butch]

Thoughts on Nimona (because a good friend asked):

Source: me, an expert on the webcomic (joking)

Okay SO:

There is so much foreshadowing in the beginning of the movie, which technically also happens at the beginning of the book, with Nimona's little red drawings too, but somehow for me it was different to see it animated

Goleth in the book Is Not A Thing. Doesn't exist. There IS no "1,000 years ago the kingdom was cursed" stuff. They said Goleth and I mentally went "who the FUCK is Goleth??"

In the book/webcomic/graphic novel, Ambrosius is the one who cuts off Ballister's arm, on purpose. Yes, Ambrosius, the twink gay boyfriend guy. (Also, in the book they both have long hair)

It's not super important, but in the book there's a bank heist that they do complete together and it kind of sets the stage for everyone to realize Nimona is a shapeshifter and is with Blackheart

In the book, part of the 'framing the director' thing is that she & the government agency (or whatever it is) have this massive supply of jaderoot, which is like, this poisonous plant (more on that later)

I didn't fully understand that 'the Director' was like, basically the queen until I was literally watching the movie. I guess I understood her to be like, almost a head-security person? You really only see her in the book being like "guards! Capture Ballister!" or "the plan didn't work 😡"

OH. Very important. At the end of the book— in the part of the movie where they put all those spidey webs on Nimona and capture her— in the book, they bring her to.... basically an experiment lab, they put her in a tank with a lot of jaderoot and shock her and do all this torture stuff and they're basically like "Tell us how you got like this", and she talks about how she was cursed by a witch who gave her shapeshifting powers BUT they were very loose (in that she can transform into literally any animal/creature/etc) ("She wasn't a very good witch," she says)

On that note! If I remember right, basically her parents abandoned her after she became a shapeshifter (or maybe before?) and in the book, she did pillage and burn down villages in the meantime— which she references at the beginning of the movie, but it's never fully explained or expanded upon

There's this really good dialogue between Ballister and Nimona at the end of the book, which I don't think was in the movie-- where, Nimona is being tortured and they're using all the stuff to try to punish her for being 'a monster', and she says to Ballister, "You're not the only one who thought you could change me. Who thought you'd fix me until you saw who I really was" (or something like that, I'm blanking on the exact words right now), and it's at that point in the book where she turns into a little girl, and then turns really big and into that dark shadowy thing

Also, when she's a little girl, in between being different monsters (so to speak), in the book she looks at Ballister and says "You came back for me?" And he says "Of course I did"

There are references to Nimona "doing this before" in terms of being the 'monster', but there isn't the whole Goleth/chosen one backstory like there is in the movie

Nimona's voice doesn't sound like that To Me. In my head I always thought she'd be like, grittier and spunkier? She was almost like, trying too hard to be carefree and cool in the movie, IMO. Also, in the book, it is a thing where Ballister asks questions about her life and she gets Very Distracted by like, random weapons or different poisons or whatever

ALSO. This has been killing me because I don't fully remember, but. I think in the book, Nimona does almost certainly die or disappear... but there's also this really bittersweet panel with different red animals where Ballister is basically like 'Sometimes I hope you're out there and that I'll see you again someday'. And in the movie she DIED-died and I don't think she deserved that, honestly

Thank you for asking @grayscale-kaleidoscope <3 I'd love to hear your thoughts on the movie too

#personal #nimona #this is close to me infodumping so you're welcome #long post #fuzzy gemstone rainbow friend

[pb-dot]

WIP Character Introduction: 13/Adrian

Alright, time to talk a little bit about my homemade blorbos. First up to bat is the titular character of The Clockwork Boy, the oh-so-evocatively named man made of clockwork himself, 13 or as he is known later, Adrian.

13's body is, as mentioned above, made entirely out of clockwork except for an enigmatic black box in the center of his chest that powers his gears and provides his still human head with nutrients and oxygen. He sports a head of cropped blonde hair, his facial features are delicate, and his eyes are described by an increasingly lovestruck Jake as sky blue.

13 is somewhat of an enigma, even to himself. The procedure that replaced his body left him bereft of his memory, and 13 himself suspects this was done on purpose. As such, his first memories are the terrifying escapade of waking up in a body that he didn't recognize and that did not heed his command until fellow clockwork man and antagonist 10 spurred him into action by attempting to murder 13 in cold blood.

The deceptively lithe-looking clockwork body built for 13 is specifically designed to fight other similarly augmented people, or Clockmen as the group is called. His fingers extend into pointed claws that are made for tearing through armor and cutting through joints, and his natural reflexes are greatly empowered by an automatic self-defense system that makes him act faster than any of his brethren by cutting his decision-making brain out of the loop entirely in times of high stress.

Despite his fearsome physical ability and the inherent alienation that comes from being custom-made to murder your peers if they step out of line, 13 is a peaceful soul. He desires nothing more than peace and quiet to figure out who he is, if not who he used to be, by exploring his abilities and discovering himself through relations with others and new experiences. Time permitting, he would also like to read a bunch of trashy dimestore novels.

At the start of the novel, 13 flees from his employers/captors with the Clockmen. He does not have a solid plan as to how this is going to allow him to live out his dreams, but when the opportunity to get out presented itself or rather was presented to him, 13 could not bear to let it pass by. In the chaos of the escape, 13 damages several key components in his right knee and left arm, and it is the need to get these repaired that gets him into contact with our POV character Jake.

When it comes to inspiration, 13 and The Clockmen is somewhat modeled on the full-body cyborgs of Metal Gear Rising: Revengance, and fills a somewhat similar role, in that they are essentially "heightened" humans whose powers are matched by how their personality and ideology are similarly amped up to Spinal Tap-levels. I am not going to try to create a character as effortlessly, perfectly ridiculous as Senator "Nanomachines, son" Armstrong or edgy meme boy Monsoon, but I am trying to tap into a similar vein of characterization.

If I'm going to be honest with my influence, I must also mention that there is somewhat of an anime influence on how I describe 13 and his fellow clockmen. There aren't all that many direct referential influences other than wide tropes such as Ominous Organization Of Themed Badguys and Guy Who is Big and also A Jerk. There is also a bit of the 00's era "bishounen/bishie" designs of the late aughts in how I conceptualize 13, both in the pretty boy sense and the JRPG "that ominous-looking twink is probably way stronger than you think"-sense.

In a similar "definitely an influence but not direct enough to be a reference"-way, The Clockwork Boy very much feels like an establishing Superhero movie, like your Marvel Phase 1-movies, in that the goal is to establish the status quo for further adventures in delightful if conflicted violence and shenaniganry. The term "origin story" has become kind of a maligned thing lately, mostly thanks to filmmakers insisting on showing us The Waynes biting the bullet over and over again, so I prefer to call it more of an "establishing story" for 13, Jake, and their supporting cast.

In the latter half of The Clockwork Boy, 13 makes a decision to change his name to Adrian, after a supporting character in his favorite book. When I first plotted this bit out, I imagined it to be first and foremost a step in him developing an identity for himself, free from the influence of The Clockmen. After some time has passed and I have written later scenes where Adrian is protective of his identity and name, I've also come to think it has some transmasc/masc presenting vibes, but I'm still deciding whether that's going to be a canon thing or just a very author-intended possible read. As Adrian's pre-Clockman life isn't really supposed to be a huge part of the story outside of being a motivation for him and certain other characters, there are several elements, including his Assigned Gender At Birth that I have not entirely settled on myself. I'm open to discussions, opinions, and general vibes on this decision, especially from people with lived experiences on the topic.

I wouldn't go as far as to say Adrian has a theme song, but I do think that the vaporwave remix of The Algorithm's Floating Point (Link) suits him quite well. The unrelenting mechanical rhythms with the lighter, floatier synths on top capture some of the contrast between the killing machine he was designed to be and the person he is growing into in spite of that. There's also a nonzero amount of inspiration from the Metal Gear Rising Revengance soundtrack, especially I'm My Own Master Now (link), Rules of Nature (link), and The Only Thing I Know For Real (link) although they're a mite bit cheesier than I want Adrian to skew ultimately.

Hoh boy this turned out way too long, I suppose I have a lot of thoughts about the boy after all. That is perhaps to be expected after writing a full-length novel about his exploits. I have Adrian about where I want to have him for this novel, although there still is some work to do with tweaking dialog to make his relationship with Jake and the greater world of Hearts In Clockwork just right.

#writeblr #wip #wip wednesday #hearts in clockwork #long reads #probably should get that side blog up for these things #Long post is long #inspirations #the clockwork boy

[alexthemenace]

Inktober 2019 archive

Posting all my Inktober 2019 pics cause it was the only year where I successfully did a drawing for every day of the month. And also used actual ink for these which I know is not required but I wanted to. Most of these were never posted outside the "Rebel Taxi" Amino so I wanna document their existence and share them with the public. My gimmick with these was to do them in 5-15 minutes as a challenge to come up with ideas on the spot. And also so I wouldn't spend too much time on these since my college projects took priority. I also had my purple Halloween neon lights on when I took these pictures so that is why they're all purple (minus day 31's drawing). Anyway, here they are in order of the days I made them.

Day 1: a generic east coast rapper on the mic rocking a show. Mostly inspired by Chuck D of Public Enemy and maybe subconsciously Todd in the Shadows. Oh and totally forgot that I was watching Vin Diesel's 1997 feature directorial debut, Strays, before I drew this which had a very gritty 90s NYC setting. At the time I was very impressed by his short film directorial debut, Multi-Facial, so I wanted to see if his feature was just as good (it wasn't).

Day 2: a defeated young man submitting to an alien/holy light shining down upon him. You could also interpret it as seeking of a higher power. Inspired by the CD artwork of OutKast's ATLiens album. This was later turned into a self-portrait oil painting for class which turned out really great.

Day 3: vaguely retro comic book Batman crashing through a window upon a crime scene. This was done right before I went to see Joker in theaters. The perspective and anatomy is meh but it was a quick drawing so I can live with it. Apparently I took 20 minutes with it according to my notes from Discord in 2019 which wow.

Day 4: Close-up of Cesare from The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. This was one of two drawings where I intentionally broke my 5-15 minute rule as I did this in about an hour. I used a reference of the iconic scene of him waking up but I still tried to be quick so the face looks less like Conrad Veidt and more like David Bowie imo but I'm still quite proud of it.

Day 5: a possessed woman. Took a wee bit longer to do but this was a fun exercise to draw longer hair like this (something I still don't have a lot of experience with) and to play a bit with perspective and anatomy without a reference iirc. She is also supposed to vaguely be from an older era far from civilization - hence the lack of clothing (she is tastefully censored though). Apparently I wasn't happy with how stiff she turned out back then but I think in hindsight it works quite well.

Day 6: a bald child from a mental ward stares at a man laying face down on a haystack. The girl was loosely based off Eleven from Stranger Things. The man in the haystack also reminds me of that one Junji Ito manga but I don't remember if that thought that came to me while making this or that's just hindsight. Also I didn't start with a finished concept in mind for this one so, very randomly put together.

Day 7: Nostalgia Critic 2Pac. As it says, it's Doug Walker if he modeled his Nostalgia Critic character after 2Pac's aesthetic. I personally really like this one. Have also been told he resembles a Beavis and Butt-head character which I see lol but that's ok. Apparently I was watching JAR Media's video on if Nostalgia Critic was cringy and for some fucking reason the idea of 2Pac came to mind lol.

Day 8: a baby with a dripping spear celebrating the head of a medium sized therapod dinosaur they successfully hunted. This one was inspired by Genndy Tartakovsky's Primal which I was a very big fan of at the time. Censored cause I like my Tumblr account and don't wanna risk losing it.

Day 9: Count Orlok from Nosferatu opening a door. I think it turned out nicely but don't really have much else to say about it other than the fact that I didn't use a reference.

Day 10: sullen twink laying bare on the ground. This was inspired by that iconic image of Maria from Silent Hill 2 laying down on the ground by the Heaven's Night neon sign. I think I just particularly like this kind of imagery since a mood piece I shot later that month incorporated a shot that is exactly like this (minus the lack of clothing). Also, the uncensored drawing actually shows nothing explicit since I intentionally had that area covered in shadows. But I worry Tumblr will think otherwise and smite down upon me so it's better to be safe than sorry. Also the perspective on his right leg is off so better to not see it in full anyway.

Day 11: gentleman combing his hair in a mirror that reveals a skeleton doing the same thing. The pic crops off the bottom part of the drawing which shows his legs and the tail flaps of his suit. But I always thought that part looked extra janky so I never include it. It was a rushed drawing anyway.

Day 12: Tim Burton inspired child sitting in the corner of a room, looking very sad. Supposed to represent being overwhelmed with life and emotions. I recall I also had Dib from Invader Zim in mind when drawing this. I don't tend to draw in this art style much so I'm pretty surprised even now how good it turned out. At the time I was doing a presentation for my Directing class on Tim Burton - so he was definitely on my mind for this.

Day 13: imprisoned droid waking up in the middle of the night. Apparently I was thinking of a bunch of movies when I did this plus I think Scud: The Disposable Assassin and my own avatar. Also I just like robots with this kind of thin pill shaped build.

Day 14: my idea of man that has fully evolved into only being able to eat, sleep, and stare at a screen. I didn't sleep the night before so I thought to draw a human that has devolved into a lazy slob who only eats and sleeps and as a result is incredibly out of shape save its legs to move around as it scours the land for any food before deciding to fall asleep for days. Thank you Discord notes from myself in 2019 for helping me remember this exact story lol.

Day 15: Undead Pan Pizza of RebelTaxi singing his pathetic little heart out. The design is based off of Jack Skellington (namely the proportions and spooky qualities like the stitches across Pan's face) during one of his more sad song numbers in The Nightmare Before Christmas. It's worth noting this era was sorta the last big hoorah for my obsession and fanboyism of Pan. I had a mild burst of being hooked one last time around Fall 2019 after losing interest in his podcast around the beginning of that year (a podcast I previously would follow religiously). I still liked him after this era and would definitely have periods of renewed interest but not to the same extent as before sadly.

Day 16: an imprisoned boy looking at the light coming through his barred window. This one used more pencil than ink to break away from mostly keeping it ink. It's very janky but the idea speaks to me. Apparently was also trying to think of a portrait for my oil painting class so this was one of the ideas that came to mind (didn't end up using it for anything though).

Day 17: a spooky little sickly old guy. I apparently was inspired by a character from Courage the Cowardly Dog when I did this. No clue which episode now though unless you guys can remember what he looks like.

Day 18: guy getting his face vacuumed off. I like that one episode of Ed, Edd n Eddy where Eddy's face get sucked by a vacuum. I got nothing else to say.

Day 19: self-portrait of me directing. It's a cutesy little drawing of me! And also the outfit I wore when I directed my mood piece that day.

Day 20: a large and vicious snake lizard hybrid. It's pretty self-explanatory. I think ultimately it's more just a snake with forearms and a spike tail. I guess I just was thinking at the time "what would be the ultimate snake?" Like a snake that can beat any snake. Also this was done on day 21 since I didn't have time on day 20 for it.

Day 21: large older guy hiding a knife behind his back. His looked is based on a friend of mine I went to college with and how he looked on set a few days ago when the light glistened over him. Although instead of a knife he held a script. He also vaguely reminds me of Al from Toy Story 2.

Day 22: sleep paralysis demon taunts twink. I like twinks, ok. Also I think just noticed something about that demon that I forgot I did but oh well. I think it'll be fine.

Day 23: guy with a very, very itchy head. I really like the pose and facial expression so it's actually one of my favorites here despite it being relatively mundane. Also, the itchy head may have been cause my head was itchy while drawing this but I don't remember. But I do remember part of the influence here was how sometimes great feelings of stress and anger would trigger an itchy head for me.

Day 24: a corpse brought back to life in a very rough and unfinished form. Obviously a bit of a Frankenstein's monster meets I guess Sally and Dr. Finkelstein from The Nightmare Before Christmas influence here. I may have had Pearl from Steven Universe in mind when I did this too since me and another friend definitely saw the resemblance.

Day 25: a twink who hit their face a little too hard on the bathroom sink. Twink. The full picture isn't really that gruesome imo (the face isn't visible) but I was trying to censor the liquids a bit for obvious reasons I already disclosed earlier. Also, he was loosely based on me but don't think too hard about that. I just had a bad day directing on set was all.

Day 26: Cute, unamused Hot Topic employee being bitten on the left leg by his pet lizard. Yet again another twink but this one's outfit is based mostly on my wardrobe at the time (minus the Jack Skellington shirt but I did/do have some pajama pants of him). And I guess I find reptiles cool so, only just noticing a bit of a reoccurring subject here (along with twinks).

Day 27: a melting zombie-like corpse crawling away from a puddle of acid. A tad more gruesome, sure, but I think it's a pretty cool drawing. And also it's like, a zombie, so it's not that inappropriate for standards here I hope. Apparently took a while to come up with an idea for this one.

Day 28: that one guy from Jacob's Ladder with a bag over his head and no legs walking with his arms. When I drew this, I had just seen Jacob's Ladder the night before for the first time and it became an instant favorite of mine. So, I drew a character from it. Him walking with his arms is based off of Mugshot's mode of travel from Sly Cooper.

Day 29: Jimi Hendrix inspired voodoo guy with a crystal ball. Pretty self-explanatory. Had fun with the texture and lighting although I was never quite satisfied with how I did the shading on his hair. The straight lines make his fro look like a porcupine lol. Regardless of that, it's a pretty cool drawing. Also worth noting is that during this time I fell back in love with 60s music. The Doors and Beatles in particular were major points of obsession for me. Especially their psychedelic period and ofc Jimi Hendrix was part of that era so that deep fixation for psychedelic and hippie music made its way into this.

Day 30: lizard amphibian fish mishmash girl with pony tails happily waving at us. This was definitely my least favorite of these and if not for my next and final drawing, would've been a lackluster way to end this. It's not awful but eh, just never really personally resonated with me. Also, she is wearing a seaweed braw so don't panic moral guardians of the world. For some reason Mrs. Bighead from Rocko's Modern Life came to mind when I drew this. Along with a certain friend of mind, @fishboigazer-blog, (which if you or a mutual is reading this lol hey).

And that's it for now since I can't fit more than 30 pics. Which is fine by me cause Day 31 deserves its own post since that one I did spend a few hours on as opposed to the rest of these. That one I also did actually post to Tumblr back in the day so I may just reblog it come Halloween.

If you actually read this far, thank you! I spent hours trying to put this together in a way that is satisfactory to me and hopefully gives plenty of insight into my process. This has been a very long time coming and hope to actually post more original stuff on here instead of just endlessly reblogging things.

#inktober #inktober 2019 #the cabinet of dr. caligari #rebeltaxi #nostalgia critic #nosferatu #jacob's ladder #cesare the somnambulist #fan art #sketches #AlexTheMenace art

[imp-thing]

Say something down bad about Detective Grimoire, just gush about him for several paragraphs it would be awesome /gen

Oh my god you are all DONE FOR /hj

I’m going to regret posting this in the future

This is probably the most bad down I can get in public without being too embarrassed of myself because I sound fucking deranged

Okay so since I first was introduced to tangle tower (I played it first) as soon as I saw Detective Grimoire I was like “oh he’s kinda..” but like not all the way up to simping levels (like in a denial state or something if that makes sense). The more and more I played with my friends in call, the more attached I got to him, I was originally looking to simp for Fitz but somehow this twink ass detective got to me first and has had a grip on me ever since. I somehow managed to have enough patience to stay in call to finish the whole game and my friend asked me “how was it?” Because he had to leave call before I finished the game and I was like “Detective Grimoire is so fine and for what???” A couple days later I decided to watch gameplays of the other two games (Secret of the swamp and the og flash game on newgrounds) because I was very content starved and obviously that did not help with this obsession. I’ve been like this for like a year and I’m still so insane about him. Since the games are very unpopular this feeling continues to get more and more rapid and also the fact I have artblock and writersblock it also kinda plays into it so I just have to imagine scenarios in my head. I swear I think about that man 24/7 I have to make any reference to the games he’s from to the smallest thing that remind me of them. He’s turned from a comfort character to a complete brainrot character, he lives rent free in my head like a fucking parasite. Call me generic for saying all of this for a twink ass mother fucker but like I don’t care, I wanna put him a cage and throw popcorn and peanuts at him like a zoo animal. I wanna get a rise out of him purposely and pick on him in a lighthearted way just to see what he’d do. I wanna see him sad so I can comfort him. I wanna put him in his place. I wanna be kind to him and make fun of him at the same time. I wanna make him feel loved and then crush his ego out of nowhere.

To put it shortly, if I ever get my fucking hands on him it’s OVER.

And to make things even more short here’s something that this entire essay of a post reminded me of

I’m somewhat sorry for what you had to read.

Somewhat.

#this entire thing reminds me of Gallery Piece by Of Montreal #looking at this already cringes me but I give what I’m requested

[alolanrain]

Have these little quotes things where I make fun of characters.

———

Ash: *referring to the afterlife* if I could take you all with me... I wouldn’t.

Gary: Motherfucking bitch, You’d literally be the last one of us.

———

Ash: I said ‘Till death do us apart’ in my vow but we both know death ain’t keeping me away from you.

Raihan: I understood that before marriage was even a thought on the table, love.

———

Ash: I don’t have a caffeine addiction!

Misty: you won a years supply of coffee from the biggest coffee producer chain in Kanto, Johto, and Hoenn then ran out before the year was half way over-

———

Ash: why is my tranq gun getting taken away?

Alder: I’d rather avoid you getting sued by Trip and his family as much as possible.

Ash: if he got shot it would be his own fault!

Alder: no. No the fuck it wouldn’t. I don’t understand why the Council lets you have one anyways and this is me talking.

———

Gladion: why does everyone trust you so much!?

Ash: *realizing there’s literally no one around* why the fuck does Lillie still trust you after you abandoned her?

Gladion: I-

Ash: uno reverse, Bitch. Face your actions before you start preaching’ at me to face mine.

———

Ash: *in reference of Rose* he looks like one of those sketchy cars salesman with their hair slicked back and doing tax fraud.

Raihan: You! You. You get it.

Ash: of course I get it. I deal with Lance almost every day

Lance: *from another room* Hey!

———

Ash: *reference to Paul* I don’t know if I want to punch him or kiss him

Dawn: you have... the worst taste in men.

Ash: can’t argue there.

———

Ash: hey Brock? Can I ask you something?

Brock: hmm? Shouldn’t you be heading to the airport?

Ash: yeah but just answer this for me real quick.

Brock: Aight. Shoot.

Ash: is it okay for me to not want to... kiss a girl? Like at all?

Brock: oh yeah, absolutely my man. Everyone’s different.

Ash: okay... what about if I actually want to kiss a guy instead.

Brock: again. Completely normal. plenty of guys kiss other guys along with girls kissing girls. It could go platonic or romantic either way.

Ash: so I wouldn’t be... I wouldn’t be straight then? Right?

Brock; yeah no. Your sexuality would be classified as homosexual or, in short term, gay.

Ash: ah okay. Thanks for answering so fast! I gotta get going now.

Brock: have fun in Kalos, Ash.

———

Ash: *in reference to Alain* he’s so fucking hot and It’s unfair! I wanna marry that boy.

Ash; *finds about Lysander* my dad’s a villain. I don’t need my future father-in-law to be one too.

Ash: *meets Rose in the future* oh motherfu-

———

Serena talking to Miette: Ash is totally straight!

Ash: *chilling in a t-shirt that says ‘I’m gayer then Ho-Oh’ written in Kantonian in the background*

———

Ash: actually, now that I think about it, I got a rainbow feather from Ho-Oh my literal first day as a trainer.

Gary: and why are you telling me this-

Ash: the bitch knew I was gay before I did

Gary: -oh shit.

———

Ash: yo, Rai. My dad’s want to meet you. Since, ya’know, our one year anniversary is coming up and they haven’t yet.

Raihan: oh okay! Who are they?

Ash: .... Lugia and Tapu Koko

Raihan: ...

Ash: ...

Raihan: babe I love you so much but that’s literally the tamest thing you’ve told me.

———

Iris: *for the hundredth time that day* You’re such a little kid Ash!

Ash: *under his breath* murder means paperwork. Murder means paperwork. Murder means paperwork. Murder means-

———

Ash: *in reference to Gladion* he’s good looking but not enough for me to not kick his ass on sight.

———

Goh: I’m going to catch Mew!

Ash: *under his breath* hey Arceus? Yeah, I’m sorry that I called you a twink bitch last night-

———

Goh: I chose Mew as my starter.

Prof.Cerise: I don’t think that’s a-

Ash: No. No. Let him be stupid, this will be a good learning curve for him. *to Goh* alright then. Let’s do this.

———

Gary: *references to Paul, Alain, and Gladion* Ash has a very specific brooding type

Ash: *gets with Raihan*

Gary: well here I stand. On top of my hill, uncorrected like always.

Misty: what-

Gary: man broods but just... in a lighter and louder way.

Brock: a hot chocolate with vodka and extra whip compared to a group of battery acid’s.

Misty: why the fuck did that make so much sense.

#ash ketchum #gym leader raihan #chairman rose #gym leader brock #gym leader misty #champion lance #champion alder #fangshipping #hau #goh #professor cerise #gary oak #Iris #Serena #alain #Dawn #Gladion #Paul

[restapesta]

Piercings. 5+1 ficlet, but with piercings. I have a problem.

1.

Ian thought he knew pretty much everything about his husband. He knew him, inside and fucking out.

How could he not? Ian's pretty much been with him for a better part of his life, and they've had enough late-night talks to share all their demons with each other, however hard it may have been. They knew each other.

There was no doubt about it.

But, well. Ian should have known Mickey kept secrets.

He also should've known that one of those secrets was bound to put him in the grave one day with the inscription on his tombstone saying that he died from horniness.

Because one of these days, he would. There was no doubt about it.

It wasn't the most conventional way to go, but Ian didn't mind it.

Because, holy fuck, Mickey just admitted he used to have his ears pierced.

"Sorry," Ian balked at his husband who was standing in the bathroom, eyeing himself in the mirror, a pair of black studs in his right hand. "Did you just say you had your ears pierced?"

"I probably still do." Mickey grabs an earring and places it against the healed-up hole that is so faint, Ian needed to come impossibly closer to see it. Mickey had pointed it out to him after he initially said he was getting his ears pierced again. Right after Ian was left with his mouth wide open, staring widely at him, not trusting he heard him right. "And if not, I'm just gonna reopen them."

How did Ian never notice it? How did he never see Mickey, the love of his life, with earrings in his ears? With little patched-up spots of skin that were so plainly visible to the eye, now that he really looked at it.

Mickey grimaced as he pressed the needle against the hole, pushing and prodding against the uncooperative entrance. He eyed Ian in the mirror, eyes narrowing. "What are you staring at?"

Ian was stunned speechless. Of course he was. Of fucking course Mickey was about to bust out some crazy thing two years into their marriage that would make Ian finally break. Like having his ears pierced, making every single yet-undiscovered fantasy come to life.

He couldn't help but imagine Mickey with a nose ring, now. Tongue piercing. Eyebrow piercing.

Nipples.

Holy fuck.

Blood was rushing straight to his dick, and goddamn it, this was it. Ian was about to die.

Because holy fuck, the earring went through.

So did the other one.

And now, Ian was staring at Mickey, who was sporting black studs in his ears. Two dark diamonds that were obviously fake but could've not been, because this wasn't Mickey anymore. This wasn't the Mickey who rolled his eyes at anything gay—except getting pounded, obviously.

No—this was Mickey with earrings.

Ian's mouth was dry. It was dry as Mickey turned away from the mirror to face him. He stood in front of him, a determined look on his face as if waiting for Ian to call him out. Him, in all his fucking glory.

"Did you, uh," Ian finally stammered out. "sterilize the needles? I don't want you to get an infection."

"That really all you gotta say?"

Ian swallowed. "How come I never saw you with," He pointed at Mickey's ears, unable to even say the word. "those?"

"I was really young. I got 'em pierced when Mandy did. Took them out fairly soon, 'cus, you know." He shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

Ian knew.

He gripped Mickey by the shoulders pulling him closer. His eyes were on Ian's, but Ian's were on the earrings, and Ian never really knew he had a kink for jewelry.

Well, there was the wedding ring, but fuck, this had nothing to do with their relationship, and yet Ian was still sporting a raging hard-on Mickey had yet to notice.

"I love them." He said truthfully, mentally noting to get Mickey real studs once he got the chance. Not the cheap grocery-store ones, but actual diamonds that he wouldn't mind spending money on. Not when they would look so good on his husband.

Mickey blushed, pushing Ian away immediately, not getting away far, arms practically out so Ian could pull him back in. And he did, squeezing him tightly against his chest, careful not to place too much pressure on the newly-reopened piercings.

Mickey mumbled something against Ian's shirt, incoherent.

"What? I didn't hear you"

"I love you."

Ian smiled. Pulled Mickey away so he could stare into his eyes.

"You know you gotta let me fuck you with those on. Pretty sure it will be the best orgasm of my life."

Mickey only smirked, eyes lighting up immediately at the suggestion. He looks fucking amazing, Ian thought.

"Lead the way, hotshot."

Ian was right. With the earrings and the smugness—

It took him less than a minute.

2.

When Ian saw the photo, he was pretty sure he was going to die.

No, not pretty sure. One-hundred percent sure. Death was awaiting him now, ready to pull him in. He was already feeling faint, ready to just slip away into unconsciousness. He was going to die, for sure.

Or maybe it was just the loss of all the blood that was heading way down south that was making him feel this way, because holy shit.

Holy shit.

When Mickey took the earrings out after a few days of usage, claiming how they sucked, Ian thought that was it. Mickey was never going to do anything that reminded him of being gay ever again. He had probably been embarrassed and wanted to take them out, and Ian was feeling at such loss when he saw his ears vacant that he was ready to throw hands.

But, oh God.

Ian was now staring at a picture of Mickey—a picture he posted on goddamn Instagram for everybody to see—and it was him.

Him with a fucking nose piercing.

Ian checked the comments first. It would've probably been saner to call his husband and ask if he actually got a nose piercing and if he was ready to be a widow because Ian won't be lasting much longer, but there were a bunch of comments on the photo, and fuck if Ian wasn't going to leaf through them all. This could be a joke for all he knew.

Some sick joke to get Ian's hopes up, just to get them crushed down until he never had any hopes in life ever again.

Mickey with a nose piercing. Mickey with a nose piercing.

Carl said it looked 'fuckin' sick'. Lip was putting 😲 emojis all throughout the chat, sometimes even adding the 😏 one, probably a reference to Ian (at least Ian hoped it was). The other comments were just about how good Mickey look, which was really no surprise, but holy shit, did that mean this was real?

Mickey was out running some errand. Said he had some shit he needed to. That sneaky bastard. Ian didn't care if he was in the middle of the goddamn line at the Costco aisle or in the middle of a drug run.

He facetimed him.

When Mickey's face came into view, the nose ring present and very much real, Ian was lost for words. Mickey was biting his lip to keep from smiling and once he noticed Ian was just going to continue and stare, he scoffed.

"Man, it's just a piercing."

"No," Ian said. "This is much more than 'just a piercing'."

Mickey chuckled. "Well, I figured since I didn't really like the earrings, I could do this. It felt right."

This was the Mickey Ian knew and loved. The Mickey who wanted to try new things, get to know his own style. Mickey, who was finally confident enough in himself, and hopefully comfortable in their marriage, that he didn't even consider this a big deal. Ian was filled to the brim with emotions, and he was ready to explode.

"You need to come home now."

They met each other's eyes through the screen, blue glimmering in mischief. Mickey smiled. "Why?"

"Because."

"This piercing shit really gets you going, huh, Gallagher?"

It did.

It really did.

"If you're not home in ten minutes, I'll get the whip. So better be fucking home." With that he hung up, getting up to ready the supplies.

Mickey was home in eleven.

Ian knew it was fucking intentional.

3.

Ian might've been getting used to the fucking hotness that Mickey Milkovich with a nostril piercing was, but that didn't mean others were.

In the end, it probably didn't even matter that Ian was one million percent down for any types of piercings Mickey wants to get—he might have even been pushing him for a nipple piercing, but the why of it was for another time—what would eventually decide whether or not the earring stayed in was the reactions of somebody other than Ian.

It was unfair, really, that others would be able to affect Mickey's decision to finally do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, despite his ever-growing confidence. Still, Ian had a way of making sure that nobody made him feel shitty for doing something he wanted to do. Something for himself, without fearing the judgment of others like he had his entire life.

He was an arsonist, for fuck's sake. Let them try and eye his husband the wrong way.

Ian perhaps expected it from old, batty women at the grocery store who didn't have a clue what century they were in or Karens who were homophobic pieces of shit—but he never would be guessed it would be his own family poking fun at something that probably took guts to do. Because it took guts to actually get something like a nose piercing if you were a Milkovich with a past of growing up in a homophobic household.

"So, uh, you gone full gay now, Mickey?"

"Watch out, Ian, I think he might out-twink you."

"You look like Sandy now. Don't be surprised if I jump you."

"I think you look cool, Mickey."

"Uncle Mickey, what's that in your nose? Can I have one?"

Mickey didn't seem to really care about the Gallaghers' opinions. It was mostly just him flipping Lip off at the twink comment and winking at Franny for that last one. Ian, on the other hand.

Ian was the one who was getting fucking offended.

What if Mickey decided that all the teasing and sideways glances aren't worth it and he takes the nose ring out? What if Ian's deprived of sexy, liberated Mickey because of assholes like his own siblings?

It didn't matter how selfish it sounded. There was no way in hell Mickey was ever going to feel conflicted over something he didn't need to feel conflicted about.

So, the second Mickey was out of the room, and the Gallaghers were still unrelenting at the teasing, Ian knew what he had to do.

"Okay, that's enough," He said simply after the eight-hundredth joke about how the ring looked like a booger in his nose—what the actual fuck, Lip?—his voice stern.

"Come on," Lip said, despite the others clearly relenting, palms going up with sheepish expressions on their faces. "We're just joking."

"Well, enough jokes. You could be more like Liam. Tell him he looks good."

Lip snorted. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I asked you to?"

"He knows it's all jokes. He doesn't even care."

"I do." Ian narrowed his eyes. "I care whether or not he feels like he's done the wrong thing because you won't shut the fuck up after the joke's not even funny anymore."

That was what made the smile on Lip's face thin. He lowered his head sightly, as of bowing it down in shame. Ian knew he had finally caught on. Finally understood that, sometimes, even jokes could hurt people's fucking feelings.

Maybe Mickey wasn't at all touched by this. Maybe he really didn't give a shit about what Lip or some old-ass grandma at the store thought. Maybe it was only Ian who gave a shit.

But fuck it, he could give enough shit for the both of them.

If it meant Mickey would always feel comfortable in his own skin, then fuck yes he could.

"Okay," Lip said simply, and Ian smiled at him, thankful.

And when Mickey reappeared with a slight frown on his face and a, "what, no more jokes?" followed by a wide smile, Ian knew he had done the right thing.

Because Mickey looked good.

And the ring stayed on.

4.

"What is it with you and the goddamn nipple rings?"

Ian bit at his lip. Okay, he may have gone a little overboard. With all the research and the reference photos and all the places you could get one... But fuck, he had a fantasy, and he needed to see it come true.

Mickey with nipple rings.

Mickey with nipple rings.

Come the fuck on.

"Babe, listen," Ian started, moving so he was positioned against the headboard of their bed. It was almost midnight—what better time to lay it down on Mickey that he would look really fucking good with piercings in his nipples and that it would be Ian's dream come true. "They'd look so good."

"Then why don't you get them?"

Ian made an incredulous face. "Because they wouldn't look good on me. They would look good on you."

Mickey swiped at his nose, diverting Ian's attention once more to the perfection that was his black nose ring. How could Ian not see all the possibilities with multiple piercings when Mickey looked like that with just one?

"Come on," He said again, the image in his head even more vivid than before. "I googled it. It doesn't even hurt that much."

"I have a feeling like that is a very obvious lie."

Ian rolled his eyes. Okay, maybe it was.

He pushed himself back down onto the comforter, shifting so he could have access to Mickey's chest. He trailed a finger from his neck, then slowly down so it rest in between his nipples, laying out his palm so it could feel the beating of Mickey's heart.

"Imagine the sex," He whispered, trying out a new technique. Seduction. It had to work.

"Probably not until it's healed up and stops hurting," Mickey scoffed. "Also, I really don't think I'd like it. I'd look like a bull."

"You'd look like a very sexy bull. Oh, by the way, septum piercing." Ian wiggled his eyebrows. "Don't you see it? Don't you think it'd look awesome?"

Mickey looked like he was on the verge of either laughing or punching Ian straight in the dick. "I think," He began. "that I've created a monster."

"A monster who is extremely horny for your ass."

"Why do you have to have a kink for this? Ian, out of all the things. Just look up porn with a bunch of jewelry on the guys if you need to get off."

Ian frowned at the imagery. "It's not the jewelry, Mick. I've had hookups who wore a shit-ton of jewelry and it never made me all hot and bothered."

Mickey smiled at the hot and bothered part. "Dork. Then what is it?"

"Well, fucking obviously it's you."

Mickey's face lit up. "It's me?"

"Ugh, Mickey, we've been together for a while. Don't make me feel shy over this."

The exasperation made Ian's cheeks pink. Suddenly, Mickey was leaning in and pressing his lips to the heat, smiling all the way through it.

When he pulled away, there was a wide grin stretched across his face. Ian was a sucker for that grin. That grin was everything he needed in life. Nothing more.

"I won't get a nipple piercing."

Sadness. All Ian felt was sadness.

"But maybe we can check out other options." It was Mickey's turn to wiggle his eyebrows. "Tongue piercing float your boat too?"

Happiness. All Ian felt was happiness.

5.

Eyebrow piercing. It ended up being an eyebrow piercing.

And God. Ian was done. He was completely done with everything. This was it. This was all he ever needed to see in life. Now, he could die peacefully.

He was married to the hottest man alive. Ian could pride himself in that fact. Mickey truly was the hottest person Ian had ever laid eyes on.

Especially now that he had a nose and eyebrow piercing at the same fucking time.

Ian knew there would never be another man to get his attention again. Never anybody else to make Ian feel like he need to avert his gaze. Not when all eyes went to the Mickey with the hot body, amazing ass, great face, and perfect piercings.

"Maybe you should get some piercings, too," Mickey said as they sat together at the table, munching on cereal. "I mean, if you act this way over my shit, who knows how I'll act over yours."

Ian smiled. "I can't pull anything off like you can."

"Bullshit. You're hot as fuck."

Ian's cheeks pinked. "Shut up."

"No seriously," Mickey said as he got up to get more coffee. "Hottest guy I know."

Ian licked his lips, slowly running his eyes down his husband's body. "Well then, guess we both got lucky."

Mickey smiled and the piercings come into view again.

Ian really was a complete goner.

+ 1

"No," Mickey said once he saw Ian come into view. "No. No. No."

Ian grinned widely, tilting his chin slightly so he could showcase the tiny diamond—actual diamond—studs in his ears. "You like it?"

Mickey knew then that this was what heaven felt like.

He barely stopped himself from tackling Ian onto the floor.

Oh, who the fuck is he kidding.

He didn't stop shit.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #shameless #shameless us #fanfic #PIERCINGS #piercings #5+1 things #:))))))))) #i said i had more #i wasn't lying #*ficlet

[meetmymouth]

AUBADE ; HARRY STYLES

WORD COUNT: 12k

warnings: smut, smoking, alcohol consumption.

thank you @harryandhockey​ and @burberryharold​ for beta-ing this baby, you guys are the sweetest angels! 

When the doorbell goes off for the third time that night, she groans and tosses the lipstick on her bed, then makes her way towards the door. Through the stained glass, she sees a tall figure and rolls her eyes.

“Look, this is the third time- oh. It’s you.”

The blonde raises her eyebrows, “Who were you expecting? Also wow, I feel so welcome, thank you.”

“Sorry,” the door closes behind Charlotte, and they walk inside.

Once in the tiny kitchen, kettle already on, she takes time to coat her eyelashes with mascara.

“Who did you think I was, that was quite the welcome.”

“Couple of girls kept knocking on the door. Something about a survey. I’ve no idea. Hey, can you help me put this on?” She takes a necklace out of her jean pocket and hands it over.

It’s Thursday, which means happy hour at their local pub and after that, they’d take N31 towards Camden to listen to a friend of Charlotte’s, an upcoming indie artist. She usually didn’t like going out on weekdays since she worked 8 to 4 and she would need to wake up at 6AM sharp to get ready and leave her flat for her Friday shift. But ever since Charlotte started working for the touring musician Harry Styles, they saw each other twice- once when they toured England and the second one being right before Charlotte left for tour. Being close friends since school, it was safe to say that she felt her absence and missed her friend dearly but were also so proud of her for everything she’d achieved.

So when Charlotte came home during their break, she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her friend and if it meant spending her Friday shift hungover while cleaning up animal urine and puke from all kinds of animals, then so be it.

“There,” Charlotte pats her on the neck after she clasps the necklace and she turns around, hand reaching to turn the kettle off.

“Ta. When are we leaving? And do you think I should go for my Adidas or the boots?” She points at the heeled boots, half white half black by the kitchen entrance and Charlotte follows her gaze as she sips the hot beverage.

She looks at the boots, then her, then the boots again, “The boots for fuckin’ sure. They’re sick- where’d you get them?”

“Depop,” She lets out a chuckle, “Think they’re Topshop, ‘m not sure. Should we leave? Y’know I walk dead slow and now that I’m wearin’ the boots…”

“You really do...go get your shit, I’ll wash this.”

They’re gathered around a round table, the green paint of the wooden table beginning to chip, and everyone’s got drinks of their own, G&T being the most popular choice. There are only five of them, Charlotte, her, Phoebe and her girlfriend Jamie, and they’re chatting about anything and everything until Charlotte turns to her, straw between her red lips.

“So-”

“Oh dear, what have you done,” she cuts her off and earns a glare from her, and from the corner of her eye, she sees Phoebe and Jamie cross their arms as if they’re getting ready for their usual bickering.

“Fuck you,” Charlotte sighs, “I didn’t do anything. I just invited some more people to Julien’s show and wanted to...kinda ask if that’s alright with you”

“Oh,” she looks around the table, finding the other girls looking at their phones and she turns to Charlotte, “It’s fine. Who are they?”

Phoebe snorts at that and her eyebrows raise in question. She gives Phoebe a look, but Charlotte’s quicker as she throws a damp tissue at the blonde and Jamie laughs when it lands back on Charlotte’s lap. “You know Sarah from the band?”

“Oh, yeah!”

She remembers meeting Sarah at Charlotte’s new flat after she moved to London, the brunette bringing a cute snake plant and a weird- but cute tea set as a housewarming gift and they got on well. They talked about plants, Sarah giving her tips on how to keep certain plants alive, and she asked her lots of questions about her experience being a woman, especially a drummer in the music industry. Sarah was very soft spoken; she spoke as if she was talking to a baby, but she always made sure to maintain eye contact when she was having a conversation with you, listening and nodding when appropriate so that you felt special and...understood. She was lovely, which was why she found it weird how Charlotte was acting awkward about her joining them tonight.

“And her boyfriend, Mitch, of course,” Charlotte adds and she nods, motioning for her to keep going. “And Harry.”

“Harry Styles?”

“Oh boy,” Jamie whistles.

“Obviously,” Charlotte sucks on her straw, slurping her drink, “Yeah, him,” she repeats, this time softer.

“I...why?” She chooses to ask, surprised as she’d like to think Harry Styles as this unreachable, ever-so-busy person who wouldn’t be interested in a night out like this. She turns to Phoebe, and then Jamie, and they respond with a shrug as Phoebe goes back to cuddling into Jamie’s side.

“What do you mean why?” Charlotte places her drink on the table, “It would be rude not to since I asked Sarah and Mitch.”

“Well, I just mean, isn’t he busy?”

Jamie whistles again and sings her name, “You got a crush, babes?”

“Nonsense, never even met the guy- which,” she looks around the table, “-is one of the reasons why I was confused. Anyway, it doesn't matter,” she shrugs and turns to Charlotte, “I’m not bothered, Lotts, it’s totally fine.”

“Y’sure?”

She gives her a nod, “I just find him intimidating and don’t think he’d be into indie, that’s all.”

It was true. Despite having not met Mr. Harry Styles, deep down she knew he’d be intimidating because he was so good looking and well, just like most people, she loved One Direction. She was a big fan, she even got told off by her stepmother once when she was younger because apparently the tape she used to hang her One Direction posters was ruining the walls. She often referred to them as twinks, and she didn’t even know what it meant until she was older. She remembers how she got made fun of at sixth form because one of the girls found her old Tumblr and told everyone about it. Harry’s never been her favourite though. Not because she didn’t find him attractive, not at all. It was because he was too attractive and was everyone’s favourite so whenever asked, she’d shrug and tell people how she found Louis funny, and then Zayn because ’he’s the hottest’.

Long story short, despite her friendship with Charlotte, she’d never met Harry, never had the opportunity to attend one of his shows because she was either too busy or they were playing in a different country and she simply couldn’t afford it. So tonight would be the first time they’d get to be in the same place and to say that she was nervous would be an understatement. And her, she always thought she was awkward. Way too awkward for social gatherings but she liked going out regardless, drinking cheap alcohol and dancing to shitty songs in an equally shitty pub. She loved being a student. Loved the freedom the title had given her. What’s your occupation, she’d get asked from time to time. Student, she’d say without hesitating. She was a student. She didn’t have to be anything else for three years. Sure, she was also working part time at an animal shelter but for the most part, she loved being a student. That’s how she met Phoebe, and then Jamie. In a way, she was their matchmaker.

She remembers meeting Phoebe last year when they had a class together. She was the first person to smile at her in the overcrowded lecture theatre and she remembers thinking how nice Phoebe’s green fringe looked. Meeting Jamie though, was funny. Phoebe usually got weird when they joked about it since she met Jamie before Phoebe did on Tinder, even went on a date with her, and then right before she was about to ghost her, she thought of how similar Phoebe and Jamie were. It was then that she made Phoebe go on a date with Jamie, and after a month of pining, they got together. Even though they were similar, she always thought that they actually completed each other, Jamie being the logical one and Phoebe encouraging Jamie to let loose from time to time and live in the moment.

Charlotte reaches and boops her nose, “He’s a musician, he loves all kinds of music. He won’t eat you, babe. He’s nice, I promise.”

Phoebe knocks on the wood, getting everyone’s attention, “Can we get a picture with him? An autograph?”

She feels a throbbing pain in her feet, toes in particular once they’re in and they wait for Phoebe and Jamie to buy their drinks, knowing she’d wake up with blisters in the morning. Charlotte takes out her phone and presumably texts the others, letting them know they were already here. She felt nervous. Nervous because she always thought she was rubbish when it came to meeting new people; they either thought she was too intimidating or rude but in reality, it was only because she always felt anxious meeting new people and would rather stay quiet than talking nonsense.

She takes time to analyse her outfit, a pair of black mom jeans and her boots, oh the boots who were currently grilling her feet. Then she tries to adjust her lace bodysuit, all of a sudden feeling super self conscious about the ”revealing” outfit. She adjusts the top, hoping her tits weren’t out before, and sighs when she touches the oversized blazer, rolling up the sleeves a bit more since it was beginning to get warm, too warm for her liking inside. Considering how she often felt self conscious about her arms, she felt more comfortable with the blazer over the sexy bodysuit.

“So,” she starts, eyes studying the crowded bar before her gaze stops at Charlotte, “Are they here?”

Charlotte looks up from her phone and nods, leaning her head on her shoulder. She feels her arm going around her waist and smiles, nudging her head with hers and she looks up, giving her a smile of her own. “What’s up, blondie?” she asks, hand coming up to ruffle Charlotte’s fringe.

She sighs, “Just tired, to be honest. I’m glad I wore trainers.”

“At least one of us is happy about their shoe choice.”

They watch as Phoebe and Jamie walk towards them, the brunette handing her a tall glass as Phoebe hands Charlotte her own drink. “When’s she on?”

Everyone turns to Charlotte, “Half an hour, maybe?”

“When are your friends coming? It’s getting quite...stuffy in here,” Jamie looks around and Phoebe nods, hands going around Jamie’s waist to pull the brunette into her.

“I texted Sarah and she said Harry was parking the car- oh, I see Mitch.”

They all look around, and she spots the tall guy with long hair, walking towards them with Sarah and Harry behind. She gulps and tries to look away, praying that no one takes notice of her sweaty forehead and shaky hands.

As the trio walk towards them, she takes a moment to examine Harry, and his outfit. Even in the dimly lit bar, she’s almost sure the high waisted trousers he has on are navy, and he’s got a tan...or a beige shirt tucked in them, chest on full display and she notices a cross necklace, looking as if it was made for his pretty neck. She clears her throat as quietly as she can and looks down but not before she takes a peek at his shoes, and she almost snorts at the choice of red boots he’s got on, noticing how everyone had trainers on while the two of them had what looked like very uncomfortable boots on.

To be honest, she thinks, he looks pretty good. She looks around them, noticing how most guys had jeans and ugly trainers on whereas Harry looked like he made quite the effort with his outfit but she also knows that even if he turned up in jeans and ugly trainers, he would still look amazing. Damn Harry Styles. Was she blushing?

The three of them are in their space now, close enough so she can make out Sarah’s overpowering perfume, and she clears her throat once again when Charlotte embraces Sarah first, then Mitch. Before she can watch her hug Harry, Sarah’s in front of her.

“Hi,” she smiles, going in for a hug, “It’s so nice to see you again. It’s been a while,” she says and her voice comes out muffled since they’re still hugging and she hopes her hair smells decent because Sarah’s face is pressed against her neck and hair.

“It’s nice to see you too! How have you been?”

“‘Been alright, I suppose!” She beams at her and turns to the man with long hair, “This is Mitch.”

As Sarah introduces everyone with Mitch, she feels Harry’s eyes on her, though she can’t turn her head and meet his gaze because that’d be rude seeing how Mitch is about to reach and give her a one armed hug. Alright then, she thinks, they’re a hugger. Then, it’s Harry’s turn. She looks at him, seeing how his eyes are focused on Phoebe and Jamie as he gives them both a warm smile before Charlotte starts talking again, introducing everyone to Phoebe and Jamie, then everyone turns to her, and she feels her face heat up seeing how everyone’s attention is on her now. She knows it’s her turn.

Harry takes a step forward and her earlier thoughts are confirmed when she can finally make out the colour of his trousers. “Hey, ‘m Harry,” he gives her a smile without waiting for Charlotte to speak, “Nice meeting you,” he comes closer and wraps an arm around her, engulfing her in a hug but it’s definitely different from Mitch or Sarah’s hug. It’s tight, much warmer and he’s got both arms around her, palms flat against her back as he rubs her back.

And of course she responds with the same warmness and hugs him back, “Hiya,” she introduces herself, and once they pull apart, he repeats her name and it sounds like poetry, something so personal and...erotic. But maybe, she thinks, maybe it’s just his deep voice making her feel that way.

Despite the moment they shared, if she could call it that, felt like hours, it was merely a minute. And it wasn’t like in the films where they hug, everything around them slowing down as the people watch in awe. No, not at all. When she looks around, she sees that everyone’s been already mingling, Phoebe and Jamie smiling at each other while they sipped their drinks, and Mitch is nowhere to be seen, possibly at the bar getting drinks.

Harry turns to Charlotte with a grin, “So is she any good, should we replace you with her?” He says, nudging her with his hip.

That sort of makes her smile, seeing Harry so carefree and friendly with the people who are essentially working for him. Even though she doesn’t know Harry Styles like they do, like Charlotte does, she knows he considers these people to be his friends and colleagues rather than his employees. It’s also fun seeing him this friendly with her best friend, and she feels proud, as she always does, knowing Charlotte has made herself great friends and that she clearly enjoys working with these people.

Charlotte nudges him back, “She’s great, I wouldn’t mind being replaced by her. Oh, there she is,” she points at the stage, and everyone turns to look at the pink-haired girl on the tiny stage with a sleek looking acoustic guitar on her side. As the others start talking about Julien, she finally takes the opportunity to look at Harry. Once their eyes meet, he gives her a smile, dimples on full display, and she swears she could see him blush when he looks down after she beamed at him. Even if he did blush though, he recovers quickly when he’s offered a drink and he mutters a thank you to Mitch, then lifts the slice of lime off the rim of his glass and sucks it into his mouth and she deems it as a good time to look away.

And she does, when she feels Sarah close, and she turns to her, Sarah welcoming her with a smile, “How’s uni? It’s your last year, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” she clears her throat, “It’s alright. Exhausting, but alright.”

“You’re working too, right?”

“Yeah, I work at an animal shelter.”

“It must be exhausting.”

“It is,” she gives her a nod, “I work three days a week and I also have classes so I only have Sundays off. I’ll probably leave and focus on uni after Christmas break though, I have my dissertation next semester.”

“Oh, cool! I miss being a student,” she purses her lips and turns to Harry, who had been listening to their conversation, his pretty fingers, most of them adorned with equally pretty rings, wrapped around the tall glass, “You probably can’t relate, H, can ya?”

He rolls her eyes but laughs regardless, “Piss off.”

Despite the chatter around them, it’s not ridiculously loud so they can carry a conversation without having to shout. They fall into an easy conversation, everyone joining in, and all of a sudden a pink neon light falls over them and they all turn to the stage. Julien starts singing, and all the chatter around them dies down, some people already starting to sing the words back at her.

She looks away from the stage for a minute and catches Harry’s gaze from across the room. They’re close enough for her to make out a few droplets of sweat on Harry’s forehead, and their eyes meet as he gives her a smile, eyes sparkling with mischief, then brings the glass up to his mouth. She watches as his top lip rests on the rim before he lifts it to his mouth and when she looks up, she sees him still looking at, gaze unwavering and mouth curled upwards in a sly smirk. She was caught. She was caught and he looked like he was loving and devouring every second of it.

Julien takes a break, promising to come back with a brand new song from her upcoming EP, and there’s a group of people making their way towards the exit, presumably to have a smoke and get some fresh air.

“Where’s she gone?” Charlotte huffs, eyes searching the room for the pink haired girl.

“She’s over there,” Phoebe points at Julien and they all turn to where she’s pointing at, spotting Julien near the bar with a drink in hand.

“Is she flirting?”

“She’s got groupies already?” she says after she takes her eyes off of Harry and everyone laughs.

Charlotte comes closer and nudges her shoulder against her, “You’d know, wouldn’t you?” “Be quiet,” she nudges back, and their group falls back into their conversation except Harry, who keeps staring at her and she gulps, hands reaching to feel her blazer pockets.

“Right,” she mutters, “It’s time to poison myself. I’m going out for a fag,” once she feels the bulge in her pocket, she turns to Charlotte, “Send me a text when she’s back on, yeah?”

“I’ll come with.”

She looks up at Harry, surprised, but nods, waiting for him to follow her outside. Even though she tries her best not to make eye contact with anyone as they leave, she’s aware of them watching them, everyone in their group equally surprised, but they keep walking, Harry following quietly behind. Once they pass the smelly bodies, they’re finally outside, the wind licking her face once she steps out and she tries to hug herself closer, seeing how the thin blazer’s not doing a good job at keeping her warm.

Harry wishes he’d brought a coat.

They’re quiet as he follows her to a quiet corner, only a few people turning their heads their way, presumably recognising him, and they stop near a brick wall and she takes her tobacco out of her left pocket. She looks up, catching him staring at her ring-clad fingers wrapped around the dark green packet, and she clears her throat, making him look up at her. They share a smile, both feeling at ease with the comfortable silence between them. She spots a wooden bench near and sits down, hands already working the packet open. When she starts tearing the tobacco apart, Harry can’t help but note how quickly she’s working it between her fingers, and he’s almost certain she’s been doing this for years.

“Want one?” She asks and he saunters forward, coming to stand in front of her with hands in his pockets.

He shrugs and she takes that as a yes, fingers pausing their work on the tobacco to take out something that resembles a cigarette and it’s only when she pushes it from the bottom that Harry realises they’re filters. Placing one between her lips, her fingers dip into her pocket once again to retrieve some papers and Harry finds himself unable to look away from her lips and how pretty they look with something between them.

He looks down at her lap, where the packet of tobacco is, seeing her fingers work swiftly as she fills the thin paper, and despite knowing better not to glamorise something as horrible and disgusting as smoking, he takes his time to admire the way she pushes down the tobacco with her index finger, presumably trying to fit and secure everything inside the paper. Taking the filter from between her lips, she places it inside the paper, at the very end, and her fingers start rolling.

Oh fuck, he thinks, knowing what’s about to come. Unable to look away, he watches as she brings it up to her mouth and licks a long stripe along the paper, and despite the lack of lighting around them, his eyes make out her pink tongue moving along the paper and it doesn’t come as a surprise when he feels a sudden twitch in his trousers at the unholy image before his eyes.

“There,” she hands him the rolled up cigarette, “Hope you don’t mind that I licked?”

He wants to laugh because of course he doesn’t mind. In fact, he quite enjoyed it, according to the knot in his stomach and his twitching cock in his underwear. He enjoyed it so much that he now couldn’t stop imagining her mouth doing other things, preferably dirty things with, or to him.

“Nah, it’s all good, thanks.”

“No probs. Didn’t take you as the smoking type,” she lets it slip out.

“I...don’t smoke, really. Only sometimes. When I’m drinking. Which…” He looks at the cigarette between her fingers, “...isn’t that often.”

She notices the nervousness that tinges his words, and it makes her feel better knowing he’s also as awkward as her. “Fair,” she sends him a smile and repeats all the steps on her own rollie, putting it between her lips just like Harry, and she takes her lighter out of the same pocket. She lights her own first and reaches to light his, and he sort of bends over until his cigarette reaches the lighter. They both take a hefty drag of their cigarettes and she blows the smoke out first, Harry watching her pursed lips as he lets out his own next, both of their cigarette smoke swirling in the air and joining in together.

He takes it out of his mouth and lets his arm dangle on his side, cigarette between his fingers, and watches as she takes another drag before fumbling with the packet on her lap, putting everything back in her pocket haphazardly.

“Do you go to uni in London, or?”

“Westminster, yeah,” she takes another drag and notices how Harry hasn’t taken another one of his since.

“Nice,” he says and a grin stretches over his face, “Charlotte talks about you a lot.”

“She does?”

“Yeah, all the time. If I didn’t know about her boyfriend I’d say she was in love with you,” he laughs and gestured to the lighter in her hand and she lets him take the lighter from her hand, watching as the flame lick at the cigarette between Harry’s lip and he takes a long drag. “I mean, we...the band feel like we already know you. It’s sweet, how much she cares about you.”

“Well, I’m pretty hard not to love, you know.”

He blows out the smoke, a chuckle escaping his mouth, “That right?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking great.”

“Well, I-”

He gets interrupted by her phone going off and a pout forms on his face. She huffs, looking around, then throws the cigarette on the ground despite the sign and he does the same, not feeling bad in the slightest. “We going in?” He asks, like a lost puppy waiting for his owner’s command.

“I guess. Is it bad that I don’t want to? Like...does that make me a bad friend?”

“Nah. I...I kinda wanted to stay here too. I was enjoying our conversation.”

She sends him a grin, eyes mischievous, and stops walking, “You telling me you weren’t bored to death by my dry ass conversation?”

“Dry? You opened up and talked about your narcissistic behaviours, that’s not boring, darling,” he smirks and she rolls her eyes, hand reaching to slap his chest and it feels easy, like they’ve known each other for years. “Alright, alright, ’m just messing with you.”

She starts walking again, a few steps ahead of him, and he follows, passing three girls with phones up to their faces.

It’s easy, he thinks, it’s easy with her.

People in the bar begin to leave one by one, and it’s only their small group and a few others left, some of them still sipping their drinks and the others talking and laughing. Some even come up to Julien, who’s sipping her water from a reusable water bottle as Charlotte keeps snapping pictures of her, and they all congratulate her, telling her how excited they are about the EP. She’s all smiles, fringe sticking to her forehead due to sweat, and her long arms are equally sweaty, dressed in a tight black dress with striped knee high socks adorning her long legs, and a pair of platform Mary Janes.

“So,” Harry says, folding his arms across his chest, “Do you have any plans for October?”

Mitch snorts across him and Julien tilts her head, puzzled, “Erm...I’ve no idea, to be honest. It’s months away and God knows I’m shite at thinking ahead. That’s why I’m friends with this lot,” she gestures to their tiny group, causing Charlotte to snort and Julien continues, turning her attention to her who’s playing with the hem of her blazer,  “This one though...”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Oi, what’s crawled up your bum, eh?” Julien turns to Harry again, catching how his gaze flickered over her body, then her face instead of looking at Julien and she finds herself smirking at the tension between the two.

“We’re thinking of putting a show together for Halloween. I have a bunch of new and upcoming artists in my mind that I’d love to see perform that night. Would you be interested?” Harry’s attention is back on Julien and he watches as the girl gasps, eyes widening in excitement.

“Shut the fuck up!” She yells, almost dropping her water bottle and they all laugh, Charlotte reaching to flip her on the forehead and she slaps her freshly-manicured hand away, “You’re not taking the piss, are you?”

Harry laughs, “Am definitely not. I love your vibe. That’s actually one of the reasons why I asked Charlotte if I could come tonight,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair, the strands gliding easily between his long fingers.

“Yeah,” Charlotte smiles at Julien, “He’s on a hunt. He thinks he’s one of those talent agents. Just say yes, Jules, it’ll be fun.”

“Holy fuck. Yes. Fuck, yes. Of fucking course, yes!”

They all laugh when she lunges herself at Harry, arms wrapping around his neck, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, fuck I could literally kiss you right now but I won’t, I’ve been watching you both undress each other with your eyes all night,” arms still around Harry’s neck, Julien turns her head towards her, whom Harry’s been looking at all night, and gives her a wink before breaking their hug. “So, do I have to do anything? What do I have to do? Fuck, I’m so bad at this-”

“Hey,” Harry interrupts, “It’s fine. Relax. Are you signed with anyone? Have a manager?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m with Gleam, my manager, Alana, she’s sick that’s why she wasn't here tonight.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Just give me your phone number and your manager’s contact details and we’ll sort everything out. Hey- relax, it’s gonna be fun!” He reaches and gives her shoulder a squeeze.

“I called an Uber,” Sarah says after her phone goes off, “And it looks like…” she taps on the screen a few times, “Hassan is here.”

“We could’ve gotten maccies,” she says, pouting, as her head rests on Charlotte’s shoulder.

Sarah sighs, cuddling closer into Mitch’s side, “We’re leaving for Brighton tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, Sarah’s making us wake up at, like, five,” Mitch grumbles.

They all start walking towards the exit, Julien and Harry in the back talking about the show as Charlotte links her arm with her as they follow behind the others. As they walk, she remembers how Harry arrived with Sarah and Mitch, meaning they shared a ride, and she turns to look at Harry who seems to be in deep conversation as he waves his hands around.

She feels hot all of a sudden, remembering how neither of them wanted to go inside earlier, how good he looked and how his voice sounded, deep, so deep, when his attention was only on her and not the girl on the stage or his drink or the people around them. As selfish as it sounds, she wanted all his attention on her, she wanted him to only look at her, see her, think of her, and she feels foolish because they only met tonight, and their conversation earlier didn’t last that long.

Once they’re outside, everyone sighs, almost in relief as the fresh air fills their lungs, and everyone bids their goodbyes to Sarah and Mitch, then Phoebe starts complaining about how uncomfortable and tired she was.

“That’s it from us, folks, my wife needs a shower,” Jamie pinches Phoebe’s cheek as Phoebe blushes, swatting her hand away.

She turns to Harry for a second and he’s just standing there, arms folded with an expression she’s unable to read, and Julien laughs, muttering something about catching a black cab since she now has money to waste.

Everyone leaves and it’s only them, and Charlotte comes closer to her as she nudges her hip with hers, “Hey. Is it cool if Harry gives you a ride? Tom’s picking me up.”

She panics and gives her a puzzled look. A car ride with Harry. Alone. Just the two of them.

She swallows, “How come you never mention it?”

“He just texted me, we’re driving up to Manc. Will you be okay?” She reaches and strokes her cheek, then turns to Harry, as if the question was directed at both of them.

“Well, yeah...I mean- I’ll call a Bolt or something-”

“It’s fine, I can give you a ride,” Harry says, hands now in his pockets. He looks like he’s cold too, considering how he’s only wearing a thin shirt and his chest is on full display, letting the breeze softly lick at the flesh.

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother, I can take a Bolt. Really, it’s fine.”

“I insist...whereabouts is your place?”

“Ehm,” she sniffs and her eyes look for Charlotte for a moment, and when she spots her, she’s watching them despite the phone pressed against her ear. “Marylebone.”

“Great! That alright with you?”

She looks at Charlotte again, the short haired girl failing to meet her gaze, and she turns to Harry again, lips pursed, “I guess- I mean...sure. Okay.”

Harry beams at that, the dimple on his left cheek widening with the smile, and she wants to reach out and touch it, place her finger there. She doesn’t though. Instead, she gives him a smile and looks down at her boots, feeling all giddy inside with the realisation that she’d be alone with Harry for a while and it would also be away from any prying eyes, in the warmth of his car.

Charlotte comes back and reaches for her, giving her a big hug as she buries her head in her neck, and she involuntarily breathes in the smell of cigarettes and Charlotte’s personal favourite, Chanel no. 5.

“Text me when you’re home, yeah? And text me if you need anything...he’s nice, I promise,” she whispers the last part, as if she’s letting her in on a secret, then reaches for Harry to give him a hug.

“Drive safe,” she says, walking backwards, “I mean it.”

“I will. Precious cargo, am I right?”

Harry opens the door for her and waits for her to get in, her lips form the words ‘thank you’, and once they’re both inside, seatbelts on, Harry sighs and tries to fix his creased shirt. She watches his hands, the rings catching the light coming from a lamppost outside, creating beams, and she notices the single, nearly-chipped gold nail polish on his left pinky.

“So…” they both say at the same time and he laughs, shaking his head, and a few strands fall to his eyes.

She chuckles too, eyes falling to her hands on her lap as she fiddles with them. “I think we’ve been set up,” she mumbles and looks up at him, finding him watching her carefully with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m usually not this dumb.”

“Maybe you wanted play dumb, hm?” He gives her a smile, causing her to scoff, and he surprises them both when his left hand reaches to stroke her cheek, making goosebumps appear on her skin and she swears she could hear her breath hitch at the warm touch, feeling hot all over.

They stare at each other, his hand still on her cheek, and she swallows, “Sure, whatever you say.”

“Is this okay?” He asks, gesturing at the touch, voice as soft and smooth as honey.

She nods, because it is. It is more than okay and if it were up to her, they’d already be kissing, tasting each other’s dirty, sweaty skin and touching each other all over, feeling each other’s bodies...she wanted all of that.

She swallows again, his gaze shifting from her face to her neck, then lower and lower until it reaches her boobs. They look divine, he thinks, despite the lack of lighting in his car, they look absolutely gorgeous, sort of spilling out from the lace material and he gulps, hand beginning to make its way down to her neck. He rests it there as long fingers caress the side of her neck, discovering a few moles there, and he looks up at her, only to find her eyes fixed on his lap. He looks down to, the slight tent not coming as a surprise, and he gives her a grin, the other hand coming to rest atop his bulge.

“Hm?” He hums as he waits for her answer despite knowing what she would say.

She clears her throat and looks around, seeing the almost empty parking lot all dark except the stop sign near the exit, and turns her attention back to Harry.

“Yes. It’s okay.”

“Mmm,” his fingers curl around her throat, thumb stroking the flesh there, “Thank you, love. Can I kiss you?”

“You can...Please,” she practically moans when his thumb presses a sweet spot on her neck and he gives her a smile, hand reaching to unbuckle both of their seatbelts with a click.

It doesn’t happen that fast. First, he gives her a look, almost as if he’s trying to remember where her lips are and the nose, then her eyes...he keeps looking, and looking, and he brings his hand up to her mouth, resting his thumb on her bottom lip as her eyes shift downwards with the movement. While he watches her, she takes her time to watch him, his face, and she feels something bubbling inside her, much like the bubbles that rise to the top when you open a coke bottle.

Pressure, she thinks, pressure and the need to devour him. Thus, without thinking too much, she reaches and grabs him by the nape of his neck, his hand falling atop the car seat as their lips meet, both of them hungry for each other’s touch as their teeth clash and Harry lets out a hiss when she bites his bottom lip, suckining it into her mouth.

His hands go up to her cheeks, pushing her far enough to look into her face and eyes in particular and he smiles, the inside of his palms feeling the soft peach fuzz on her face. When she lunges forward to continue their kiss, he stops her, thumb stroking her cheekbones as she lets out a huff, and he chuckles, “Slow, baby, slow. We’ve got time. I want to feel you, taste you as much as I can, yeah?”

She nods, letting him stroke the side of her face some more and feel her skin against his soft hands before he starts leaning in, this time slow, so slow that it feels like hours to her. Before she closes her eyes, she catches a glimpse of his pink tongue dart out to lick his lips, and he finally captures her top lip, sucking it into his mouth softly and she melts under his touch, her mouth pursed as she starts responding with her own kisses. Their lips, she feels, fit together like a puzzle piece.

Harry’s tongue swipes across her bottom lip and she opens wider, letting him lick into her mouth further. It’s hot, wet, and she feels herself getting wetter and wetter as the smooch noises grow louder with each kiss. His hands are now cupping both of her cheeks, and as he presses wet pecks on her parted mouth, one of his thumbs travel down to her mouth and he stops their kiss, and she opens her eyes, giving him a puzzled look.

He shushes her, lips pursed as he does so, and her eyes watches the movement, wanting to feel them all over her body now that she knows how he feels and tastes like. He presses his thumb against her bottom lip, then into her mouth and pulls her closer to him. He shuts his eyes and tilts his head when she closes her mouth around his thumb, sucking it like a lolly, and his cock twitches in his trousers again as he watches the way she sucks on his flesh, humming around it as if she’s having the most delicious meal of her life.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, “Y’like playing with me, don’t you?”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes his thumb out of her mouth with a pop and she holds him by the wrist, placing his hand on one of her boobs and Harry lets her warm hands and the feeling of lace overpower him as he gives her boob a squeeze, then travels his hand down to where he supposes her nipple is and brushes a thumb over it, a beaming grin stretching across his face when he feels her pebbled nipple under his thumb.

When he looks at her face, she’s biting her lips, eyes shut, and he bites his own lips as he traps her covered nipple between his thumb and index finger, tweaking it gently which causes her to breathe out a moan, toes curling involuntarily inside her boots. He tugs at it, then his hand travels up and he looks at her, as if to ask her permission for what he’s about to do. And she nods, of course she does, and she feels her upper torso getting sore from the position they’ve been in but she lets it go, reaching for his hand near her boob and places it on top of his, encouraging him to keep going.

With her hand on top of his, he slides the bodysuit down from the top, and he feels his cock twitch in interest so he has to bring his other hand down to press against his bulge over his trousers in hopes of relieving some of the tension. He plays with her nipple, tweaking and squeezing it between his fingers before finally leaning to capture the pebbled nipple into his mouth. “God damn, your tits...so fuckin’ hot, baby,” he bites her nipple and she shudders, back arching in pleasure. “Wanna do everything with you...wanna fuck you- wanna fuck these tits,” he whispers against her nipple, now wet with his spit, and his hot breath sends chills down her spine.

It’s warm, his mouth, so warm and wet around her hard nipples and she lets out another moan, arms wrapping around his neck and she tries to press against him closer. “Fuck,” a moan leaver her mouth, “Please, Harry, fuck me. Do something, just- ‘m so wet.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Jesus,” he presses a kiss to her nipple before he frees her other boob from the fabric, “You’re so fuckin’ hot. Got me so fuckin’ hard, just look at these gorgeous tits, baby. Bet your cunt’s even more gorgeous, hm?” He whispers, hands already on the other boob, squeezing the nipple and he watches as it hardens, looking so pretty and puckered for him and he gets his mouth on that one too, licking across the nipple before he bites it into his mouth.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart?” He touches her shoulder, squeezing her there over the blazer, and when he sees the hesitation in her eyes, he travels his hand up to her neck and strokes it there, “Y’don’t have to, darling. However you’re comfortable.”

“No,” she says ever so softly, “It’s okay.”

He smiles at her as she takes the jacket off and throws it somewhere at her feet. Harry grabs her by the neck and brings her in for another kiss but this time, it’s slow. And sweet. Slow, sweet, and warm, so warm that she feels it in her chest, in her stomach, and it reaches everywhere, the kiss warming anything and everything inside her. He swipes a tongue across her bottom lip before pulling away, and places both hands on her boobs, squeezing them, mouth popping open as he watches them in awe.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he brings one of his hands to the front of his trousers and the heels of his palms press against the bulge, but instead of giving him some relief, the touch makes him hiss, wishing for something softer, warmer.

“Can I fuck you? I need to fuck you, please, sweetheart,” he whispers and she nods, tongue darting out to lick her dry lips and he nods as well, looking around inside the car, swiftly examining the tinted black windows before he turns to her, “I hate that I’m about to fuck that pretty pussy in the backseat of my car instead of a comfortable bed but I need it so bad, sweetheart, I need you,” he licks his lips, “That okay?”

“Yes...more than.”

He helps her move to the backseat, boobs still hanging from the top, and he joins her in the backseat quickly. They’re closer now, nothing serving as a barrier between them, and with the way they’re facing each other, she can make out a tiny pimple on the side of his nose as well as a little mole on his forehead. Her gaze falls to his bulge again, and he’s already fumbling to get them off. With a swallow, she shuts her eyes so she doesn’t see Harry watching her intently, dilated pupils fixated on her sweaty skin, her lips in particular.

He leans in and presses an open mouth kiss to her damp skin, the touch making her open her eyes.

Take it off” she whispers, voice as sweet as honey, “Come on, I want you to fuck me,” she breathes against his hair, his head now in the crook of her neck, and she feels him nod, his hands coming to rest atop hers.

He fumbles with the button with shaky hands, her hands coming to rest on Harry’s waist and he sighs in relief when he hears the zipper. He lowers his trousers along with his underwear clumsily, the pile of material pooling around his ankles. He’s hard and leaking already, the tip an angry shade of red, and she takes a few seconds to admire the thickness of his cock and how pretty it looks, his dark, coarse pubic hair making her mouth water as she imagines deepthroating him, nuzzling the hair at the base of his cock.

Harry looks up and she’s got one hand on her boob while the other rubs herself through her jeans, presumably feeling aroused with the way the fabric is feeling against her pussy. A low, choked ‘fuck’ leaves his mouth following a growl as his long fingers begin unbuttoning the beige shirt and she watches, bottom lip trapped between her teeth with fingers rubbing herself.

Once it’s unbuttoned, he’s quick to get his hands on her jeans, eyes briefly searching for something in hers before he starts unbuttoning them. She stops him and bends over to take her boots off and he watches her back, hand reaching involuntarily to travel his fingers down her spine, stroking her waist before he bends forward to place a kiss on there as she keeps fumbling with her boots. Once they’re off, he’s quick to help her get the jeans off too, and he throws them in the front seat, smiling when she hears her giggle.

“Alright, Miss Giggles?” he says softly, palm resting on top of her thigh as one of his hands reaches and strokes the side of her face, fingers playing in her wild strands of hair.

She bites her lip again, giving him a nod, and he brings her face into his, lips pressing a tender kiss to her chin before he opens his mouth slightly and grazes his teeth across the flesh, and he presses a final, loud kiss there before he pulls away with a pop, leaving her chin all shiny and wet with his saliva. He lowers his eyes and spots her thong, fabric too tiny and flimsy to cover all the areas of her pussy, and he lets out a groan at the sight, hand immediately reaching to touch what’s under her little thong.

“So pretty, darling...so, so pretty,” he murmurs and she watches with parted legs as he positions his middle finger against her pussy over the black lace, thin, so he feels just how warm and wet she is between her folds. This makes him pause to look down at his cock, just to make sure he’s not about to spill all over the carseat since he feels the pleasure at the tip of his cock, ready to explode right then and there. “How can anyone ever resist you, hm? This pretty girl…” with one hand still between her legs, he reaches with his other hand and ghosts his thumb over her nipple, his other hand working her thong as he pulls it to the side, “...this pretty pussy,” he murmurs, making her eyes lull shut at the compliments.

She parts her legs wider to give him more room to work with, and he grins as he looks up at her hungry eyes, knowing what she’s asking for. And god, is he about to give her what she wants. The way she looks, not just half naked but from the moment he’d caught a glimpse of the grumpy girl across the room, it’s been driving him insane. Not that she was rude or looked bored, but she looked cute, kinda nervous, as if she too was as uncomfortable as Harry by the prying eyes and tipsy chatter around them.

From the moment they were introduced, Harry knew she didn’t particularly like to be looked at. Maybe he was being judgmental, or reading too much into things, but he got the impression that she was sort of nervous to be around people, especially new people. He tried his hardest not to be some weirdo, an utter creep who kept looking at the beautiful girl across him but truth be told, it wasn’t the first time Harry had seen the girl’s face.

He knew of her, stories about her, from Charlotte, and saw numerous photos and throwback videos of them on Charlotte’s Instagram, but he would never actually admit to the fact that he’d clicked on her tag on one of Charlotte’s posts, and scrolled through her feed for hours, giggling from time to time at her silly captions and numerous pictures of a Golden Retriever and a black cat cuddling.

Yes, he might have found her interesting, took a few screenshots of her posts where she proudly displayed her favourite reads, immediately ordering everything on there, and a few funny memes, but now with his middle finger circling her clit, he would never, ever admit any of that to anyone, ever.

“Harry,” she breathes, and it sounds sort of harsh, rough even, the reason presumably being a mix of the cigarettes she’d been smoking and the way his finger teasingly, slowly moves over her pussy. “Harry…” she says again, melodiously, fingers curling around his wrist and he looks up with a grin, eyes almost evil, dark and pupils dilated from hunger bubbling up inside him.

He retracts his finger and brings it up to his mouth slowly, her eyes watching him like a hawk, and his pink tongue darts out, licking a long stripe up his middle finger and he truly devours the savoury taste, eyes finding hers as he sucks the finger into his mouth. “Taste so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “Want me to play with that beautiful cunt, hm? Give it my full attention?”

“Yes, please, I need it so bad, I’ve been waiting for so long.”

“Yeah?” He asks, ever so softly, “How long?” He presses, his middle finger once again placed between her wet folds, and she wraps her fingers around his wrist.

There’s a bloom of pleasure in her voice when she lets out a shaky breath, a stuttered ’yeah’ because she doesn’t want to give in to Harry’s teasing game, and he leans forward, capturing her chin with his mouth as he bites the flesh while the pads of his finger massages slow and deep over her swollen clit.

He feels the spongy bit under his touch, “Tell me you’ve been thinking of this too,” he breathes against her wet chin, then brings his middle finger down to her hole. It’s wet, so fucking wet when he drags his finger back up and circles her clit faster than before which makes her legs kick out in pleasure, one hand grabbing harshly at her boob as the other go up to Harry’s soft hair and she pulls, fingernails scratching his scalp while doing so. He groans against her skin and drags his finger down to her slick little hole again, circling around the wet, soft muscle and he pushes his finger in, her cunt making a wet, lovely sound as he does so as his eyes fall to his throbbing cock.

It’s so hard, an unpleasant feeling blooming inside, so he takes his finger out of her hole, making her let out a tiny whimper as she clenches around nothing with the sudden loss of his touch. Harry brings his finger up to his mouth, and his pink tongue darts out to lick, mouth closing around to devour the slightly salty slickness.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asks as his hand goes to stroke the side of her neck, goosebumps appearing immediately at the touch. She shudders, unable to respond and Harry’s voice is softer this time, “Can I, baby? Will you let me fuck your pretty pussy now? I need it so bad, sweetheart, so fucking bad. See how hard I am for you? So fucking hard for you, baby.”

“God,” another shaky breath, “Please, I’m so wet and horny- I need it, Harry, please.”

“Need my cock, yeah? Need me to fill that little hole? Stretch your tiny little hole, darling?”

“Fuck- please, I- please stop teasing me, I need it...please, fuck me.”

Harry feels something, a prickly sensation inside him, his groin tightening, and he knows it’s her dirty mouth and sweet face to blame. He looks down at his cock, hard as rock between his legs, and grabs her by the waist, pulling her on top of him with ease. “There, sweet girl.”

He lets out a hiss when her warm pussy makes contact with his cock and she bites her lip, leaning forward until their sweaty foreheads meet. “Your pussy’s so fuckin’ warm. Shit, we need condoms,” a strong arm wraps around her waist and she gasps when he leans forward so suddenly. His face is buried into her boobs as he tries to retrieve his wallet from one of the compartments in between and she watches him struggle, unable to control a tiny laugh escaping her mouth.

“Well,” Harry mumbles, warm lips making her skin feel all tingly, “This is lovely...mmm,” a few kisses are pressed between her boobs, then another open mouth one on her left nipple, and they’re finally back to their previous position, condom package between Harry’s lips as he rips the top, never once taking his eyes off of her while doing so.

“Ready for me?” He gives himself a few lazy pulls, thumbing at the tip while she watches, one hand kneading her boob. “Hm? Ready to take my cock?” He moves his hand slowly, up and down, causing her to swallow.

“Yeah...fuck yeah. Please, fuck me.”

He looks up at her as the rubber works its way down his cock, and she joins her arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, and he brings his cock to her cunt, earning a moan from her, her warm breath licking at his face ever so softly. He grunts, voice strained with pleasure when he feels how warm and wet she is at the touch of his cock and slides it against her warmth before he brings it down to her tight little hole and pauses there.

“Y’ready, sweet girl?” He nudges their foreheads together and it’s sweet, so sweet despite the position they’re in, and she nods, feeling their damp foreheads stick together, and Harry gives her a bright smile, dimple appearing on his left cheek.

And he pushes it in. With his thumb pressed against the tip, he pushes his cock inside her, the tightness squeezing his already sensitive cock as if she doesn’t want to let him go, as if she wants to keep him inside of her forever and ever.

“God, such a tight cunt, baby. Squeezing me already, hm?” He murmurs into her mouth, “Easy, darling...slow. Slow, yeah? Want to feel you properly,” his hands go up to her hips, holding her there to still the movement of her hips, and her arms loop around his sweaty neck, fingernails scratching the back of his neck and he hisses, face moving forward to press a bruising kiss on her parted mouth.

Once she calms down, hips stilled, his strong arms begin moving her up and down and they both moan, quick breaths leaving their mouths and mixing together just like how their bodies are almost joined together, two becoming one, and Harry starts moving his own hips so he can fuck into her as she helps her by moving her own hips up and down, slowly, just like he’d asked her to, feeling his cock stretching her tight hole with his every move. There’s a honking outside and both their movements still for a second, and a muffled chuckle leaves her mouth, arms tightening around Harry’s neck.

Their eyes meet, Harry’s mouth turning upwards, “What’s so funny, Miss Giggles, hm?” He murmurs as his hips speed up again, their skins slapping against each other as his cock strokes the insides of her walls ever so softly, sliding in and out of her.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking big, I- I knew you’d be big but...fuck, you’re so good, so fucking good, Harry,” she moans, earning a grunt from him as she meets his thrusts, her hands sliding down to Harry’s shoulders and squeezing his smooth skin briefly before she brings her palms down to her chest.

She strokes the hair on his chest, admiring the way his cross necklace sits proudly there, amongst his now damp chest hair, and she brings her palm to one of his nipples, thumb stroking the slightly darker nub and he lets out a groan as goosebumps appear on his chest and nipples.

“God,” she breathes and Harry can smell the fruity-sour alcohol on her breath, and his mouth pops open when she tweaks his sensitive nipples. “I love your nipples,” she moans again when his cock brushes that sweet spot inside her and he does too, arms tightening around her waist, and she tweaks his nipples again, this time harder as her hips speed up, ass slapping against his meaty thighs and she keeps jumps up on down on his cock.

As she does so, her boobs too move, bouncing up and down with her every movement and Harry reaches with one hand, capturing one of her nipples between his fingers as he tweaks left and right before letting it go, watching her skin prickle at the touch.

“Shit, y’feel amazing, just wanna keep you forever,” he groans, low and delirious, fingernails digging into her waist as he thrusts into her, “So fuckin’ tight around me...so tight and snug. I want you- want this everyday. Wanna be able to touch you, kiss that little face everyday, fuck this beautiful pussy...so good, darling, you’re so fuckin’ good, letting me fuck that sweet cunt in the backseat, hm? Are you good,” he breathes her name into her mouth, then bites her bottom lip, earning a gasp from her when his thrusts become particularly rough. “Are you a good girl?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m good, I’m so good, please- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum please keep fucking me, keep fucking me hard, Harry- keep going,” she speeds up her movements, Harry’s cock sliding in and out of her as wet, dirty sounds fill the car and he curses under his breath, hips lifting off the seat to meet her strokes.

“Are you close?” He manages to ask, a low grunt in his voice.

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she brings one hand down to her pussy and begins rubbing her clit, moaning when she touches the little nub and then, with her other hand, she reaches for Harry’s face, thumb stroking the side of the smooth skin before she places it on his bottom lip and presses hard, making him part his mouth. She pushes it in, eyes lulling shut at the feeling of his warm tongue as he sucks on her thumb, hips continuing their movements as he fucks her cunt with quick, rough thrusts.

When she opens her eyes, Harry’s watching her, sweat glistening on his forehead and she brings her finger down to where Harry’s cock meets her warmth and rubs the top of his cock, moaning when she feels the vein there. She brings it up to her clit again, all wet and warm, and she rubs harder with rough strokes as Harry juts his hips forward a few more times. “I’m gonna cum, fuck- I’m gonna fuckin’ cum, baby,” his grip tightens on her waist and she places her hands on his shoulder, squeezing there.

“Come on me, I want it on my tits,” she mutters, fingernails digging into the smooth skin of his shoulders and he lets out a grunt, pulling out quickly as she gets down, Harry’s legs parting immediately so she can get between them.

And she does, gets on her knees between Harry’s parted legs as he takes the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he tosses it somewhere on the floor, and he begins stroking his now-wet cock as she thumbs at her nipples, kneading her boobs before pushing them together. His wrist works harder and quicker at the sight and he finally comes undone, his warm cum spilling onto her boobs, decorating her soft flesh with white stripes and she looks down, watching with sparkling eyes.

“God, fuck,” he breathes, letting his head tilt back, “You’re something else, y’know that?”

She hums, sending him a grin as he gives himself three more lazy strokes before he lets go of his cock and watches the spattered cum against her skin separate with the movement when she lets them go.

“Got some on your top, sorry, love.”

She looks down, then swipes a thumb across her skin and brings it up to her mouth. Pushing it in, she sucks around her digit as she tastes the salty-sour taste and Harry watches, all wrecked and fucked out.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re so naughty...come up here,” his ring-clad fingers reach for her wrist and he helps her sit next to him.

He reaches the little pocket behind one of the seats, taking out some tissues as she watches him take out a few and clean her up as much as he can. Then their eyes meet, both sleepy and wrecked, and he lifts his hand up to her cheek, stroking it, and she leans into the touch, making him smile. “You’re lovely,” he mumbles, hand still on her cheek.

“You’re lovelier.”

He chuckles as she fixes her top, “You really are. Really lovely.”

“Stop it, I’m not good with compliments.”

“Well,” he shrugs, reaching for his trousers on the front seat, “I said what I said. You hungry? Thirsty?”

“I’m kinda thirsty. Aren’t you?”

As they lean against the bonnet of Harry’s car, now parked outside a McDonald’s, there’s a comfortable silence between them as they sip their waters, bodies close to each other, close enough for Harry to smell his faint cologne on her skin.

“You cold still?”  He turns to her as she takes a bite of her chocolate muffin, and he follows as a few crumbs land on her chest.

“I’m good. Feel very warm...ed up,” she chuckles, thumbing at the corners of her mouth.

Harry groans, nudging her with his shoulders and she nudges back, harder, and he gasps, “Oi, be nice. I’m feeding you.”

“Soz. Guess I owe you like...what is it, a fiver?”

“You’re a very mean girl.”

“I’m the nicest. I’m good,” she gives him a grin, earning another eye roll from him as she takes another sip of her water before placing it on the floor, “Seriously though, thanks for the muffin.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m kinda bummed you turned down the nuggets but…maybe next time?”

“Next time?” She asks, crossing her arms, trying to warm herself up despite her promise from earlier.

“Well,” he clears his throat, hand going up to his necklace, “I’d love to see you sometime. Again. Preferably for longer than an hour and...you know, just us two? Hanging out?”

She smiles and leans forward, taking him by surprise when she presses their lips together. It’s a sweet, slow kiss, and his hands grab the back of her neck, pressing their faces closer as they kiss. Her hands find his waist and she gets on her feet, coming to stand between his legs without breaking their kiss, and she loops her arms around his neck, smiling when he moans at the feeling of her fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

He tastes the muffin, the chocolate, and himself, and as foolish as it sounds, he wishes there was a way to be closer to her somehow, closer than they already are at this moment. She pulls away, their foreheads pressing together as they smile at each other.

Harry scrunches his nose and smiles, bringing it forward so their noses touch, “What was that for?” He whispers, hands tight around her waist as he hugs her closer.

“Just felt like it...just felt like kissing you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like kissing you. I liked kissing you a lot tonight.”

He smiles, nose booping against hers once again, “I liked kissing you a lot too. I’d like to kiss you a lot tomorrow. And maybe the day after that.”

“That’s fine by me. You can kiss me tomorrow...and the day after that,” she whispers, pressing their bodies together.

Harry closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as she watches with curious gaze, eyes crinkling with a smile.

“What are you doing,” she whispers, and he shushes her, smiling when he opens his eyes to find her staring with her eyebrows raised, “What are you doing?” She asks again and he squeezes her waist, forehead pressing against her once again and he leans in closer to press a tiny kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“I’m listening,” he whispers, lips almost touching hers as he speaks.

“Listening? What are you listening to?”

He strokes her cheek, “A song.”

She raises her eyebrow again, “What song? I can’t hear it. Are you- you’re not actually serious, are you?”

“Ssh, it’s a song. Listen,”

“Har-ry,” she groans, pressing her forehead on the crook of his neck, “What is it?”

Harry smiles, arms hugging her closer as she presses a tiny kiss to the side of his neck, “Aubade.”

SEND ME YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT AUBADE AND PLEASE REBLOG THE FICS YOU’VE READ AND ENJOYED TO SUPPORT AND MOTIVATE WRITERS <3

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n

[jessilynallendilla]

So since The Batman 2022 came out today I decided to rewatch one of the Batman cartoons from my childhood The Batman 2004 the other being Batman Beyond but it’s too sad now here’s my notes

SEASON 1

Well they got the insane Joker voice ok but the design idk

That's supposed to be Bane?

Oh crying little Bruce now I’m sad

Sees Batman tells dispatch to cancel backup and just send an ambulance

In pain just says he needs to watch sudden moves proceeds to jump off a ledge

Alfred hears Cobblepot and instantly is salty

Batman surprised there’s bats in Wayne Tower

They straight up change Freeze’s backstory

Catwoman first date with a man and stole his belt Queen

Oh hey that’s Adman West

Woah Stephanie’s dad really let himself go

Bruce “Probably not a good idea to advertise I'm a billionaire” Wayne

Joker isn't playing with a full deck if you know what I mean

Bruce flirting with Oswald Cobblepot

So one of two POC in this show gets turned into  a monster

SEASON 2

Couples should always have a spare key when playing with handcuffs

Riddler that’s ...a look

All police in Gotham decided to be at one party in Gotham that’s just asking for trouble

So he’s the Batman...who laughs

So this Killer Croc is an actual crocodile man

Man Bat returns

Strange how can anyone look at him and not think evil

Joker if you want people to laugh try being funny

Oh hey it’s Patrick Warburton

I don’t care how triple jointed you are bones don’t work like that

Isn’t this an episode of BTAS

So is Grundy real or not

Oh laughing fish good reference

Oh Gordon is finally here

Sidekick clever foreshadowing

And we never see the other POC again

So these two seasons was just introducing his rouges gallery

SEASON 3

Toxic =glitter

Batgirl is here before Robin

The Panda Redd was right Gordon does notice Batgirl is the only other red head in Gotham

Barbara literally figured out Batman’s identity by his jawline good thing for convenient amnesia

Poor Mr. Snoots the world didn’t deserve him

Barbara is sixteen but she looks around 12-14 and described her friend who looked older than her as a teenybopper

Oh great the Joker is on steroids

Selina even if you took those leopards where were you going to keep them

Plant people was a BTAS episode too

How did any of these toys get past regulations and testing

Kronk is back

Oh no Joker wants a Joker Jr

Really how old is Barbara this class looks like Jr high kids

This Zeus isn't crazy just an egomaniac

Leaves two elderly men on a frozen lake to  be safe

Putting a bunch of criminal minds in an AI will have the same effect as Robocop

All of the cities critical data is on one computer real smart

So he basically did the Tim Test to figure out Batman’s identity

SEASON 4

Finally season 4/5 we get Dick Grayson

Oh no this is a Robin origin

Oh hey that’s Mark Hamill

So Bruce put the giant portrait of Dick’s parents in the same room as the passage clock and expected it to stay a secret

He’s a child with a pole but at least he has pants

Sibling rivalry

Bad publicity is still publicity he’s on tv got what he wanted

Bruce can exit change and make a dramatic entrance in under 15 seconds

So does he always listen in on their conversations

He's been awake for days fighting a zombie apocalypse let the man have a nap

The implications just hurt  

Like how is Batman a myth did no one else take up the mantle

And Barbara is in a wheelchair so Killing Joke happened in this universe

Why is in the future the manor was destroyed/abandoned but Barbara’s chair is still there what happened

Alfred just refuses to die

If you can only travel back twenty seconds why not keep traveling back twenty seconds after another might take a while but you’d make it eventually

Batman and Riddler have a heart to heart at the bottom of the ocean while waiting to drown

Riddler’s backstory episode

You decided you need a new look so you chose goth twink

So what’s the answer to the riddle

So Harley is an internet diploma tv love fauxchologist she has a PHD give her some respect

Wow she just massacred Bruce Wayne on live tv

Penguin begs to be arrested and almost says Batman isn’t scary

Why is Wesker/Scarface in there  they are reformed/destroyed

What's with this guy’s obsession with his boss Strange has a point

Harley straight up kicked a child  

Lucius just Lucius

Dick comments how they throw around words with bat in it

Oh this is going to be a Batman learns he can play with others episode

Hi Martian Manhunter

When Dick’s joke is 100% right

Alfred’s sass

Bruce just so casual saying there’s an alien invasion and there being an alien in the cave

Alfred’s sass

Police Commissioner's best plan is to call for someone else

Bruce has a contingency for everything

Alfred tells children to disobey orders  

So Lucius and Alfred huh

Villains to the rescue

Of course Batman already knew about the Watchtower and hacked it

SEASON 5

Dick isn’t an uncle Clark fan

Clark is such a dork

Now Superman has to learn to play with others

Batman v Superman

Ollie finally can figure out 2+2=4

Kinda feel sorry for Firefly

So this is why Batman doesn’t want other supers in his city all of their rouges start coming to bother him

This was the opening plot of Lego Batman

Alfred’s sass

Oh no it’s worse Dick is a Green Lantern fan

Nightwing in his disco outfit

Joker v Joker

They rehashed this BTAS episode too

Seriously how old is Barbara supposed to be she’s in college but she looks around Dicks age and he’s in middle school

Wesker what are you doing here

Did Croc just eat that dude

So they lost their parents to prison around the same time Bruce lost his so this is an other side of the coin thing

Never piss off the Joker Batman is his

Curious if he can’t take off his mask how can he eat

So the nth element give you the ability to fly and not the 12 foot wings you have

He just floated out a guy for asking a question why does anyone work for him

Superhero carpool

They’re just rehashing the previous season finale for the series finale

Who has evil robot clones on their bingo card

Batman shows them all the contingency plans to take them out

Lady they’re obviously not THE Justice League

Strange has finally shut up

And they hint at a future Teen Titans team

The End

#batman #the batman 2004

[hello-everyfandom]

“I’ll say it every second of every day if need be, I love you."

Warnings: N/A

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Summary: James Potter is desperately in love with you.

Part One “No, please… Don’t say that. You love her, not me.”

Part Two "James, you’re a right knob head sometimes. She loves you.”

(Hi! This is part three of my James Potter series. Feel free to read those before hand!)

It was odd to see you without James. It seemed that after the Gryffindor party, you had disappeared. It was rare to see you during meal times and you were nothing but a passing figure in the corridors, fleeing before the boys could stop you. It wasn’t just Remus you were dodging, Sirius could barely find you in a crowd and Peter had spoken to you all but once these past few weeks. James, it seemed, was taking your absence the hardest. He frequently turned to his side to tell you a witty or inappropriate joke only to find that you weren’t there. Living without you was torture. Living without the person he loved was torture. And, what made it worse, was that it was his doing that brought this fate upon the Marauders. Remus Lupin, to put kindly, was extremely fed up. He missed his friend and found himself quite lonely studying in the library. And if he were to catch you somewhere, reading or doing homework, you were quiet and reserved, almost fragile to an extent. So, Remus made it his mission, after a grueling day of classes, to find you. He stalked the halls, peering left and right, checked the Astronomy Tower and the Owlery and the kitchens. It was only until he found you, tucked away and unseen, in the back of the library that he let out a sigh of relief. 

Remus pulled a chair from the table and sat down, staring at you intently. “Right, Y/N. This has got to stop.”

“What are you on about, Remus?” you asked, raising your eyes from your book that you were barely reading.

“Don’t play dumb!” Remus used his hand to refer to you, “This has got to stop. It’s become ridiculous.”

“Rem-”

“No, just listen to me. I don’t want to raise my voice or become angry, but you’ve beyond frustrated me. Y/N, this has got to stop, you cannot go on like this.”

“Go on like what?” you asked sharply.

“Like this!” you knew exactly what Remus was talking about. You had become quite skinny, almost gaunt like. Your body adorned an old knitted sweater that James had given you after his growth spurt. It engulfed your body and swallowed you whole. Your face has lost its colour, and your paleness reached all over your skin. You looked sick. Lovesick, if you will, and suffering from heartbreak and losing the battle. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you gazed back at your book, hoping Remus would leave.

“Damn it, Y/N. Stop it.” Remus slammed his hand on the table, making you jump. Remus had never raised his voice at you, but looking in his eyes, you could see how desperate he was. Remus redacted his hand and shook his head, “I’m sorry.” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” you said reassuringly, reaching to place your hand on his.

“I’m worried about you.”

“I know,” you said truthfully, rubbing his knuckles with your thumb, “but I’m alright.”

“No, no you’re not, Y/N. This isn’t you. The person sitting here isn’t you.” Remus trailed off. If this is what love is, Remus thought, then maybe he didn’t want it. He could see how this was tearing you apart, inside and out. “Everyone misses you. James misses you.”

“I miss you too,” your voice quivered a bit, hearing James’ name struck a blade in your throat.

“He’s not the same, y’know? Have you noticed?” 

You couldn’t say you had. Every time you had seen him in the corridor or in the common room, you practically ran away. It was utter agony to see the man who you so desperately loved, not love you back. But, if you had lingered, if you stayed for mere seconds, you would have seen how broken James was. He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair as he usually did, but the smile was nearly blank and his hair was pulled nervously. 

“Rem-”

“I know,” he sighed, “But at least think about coming back, okay? It’s scaring me to see you like this.”

You nodded, “I love you, Moons.”

Remus squeezed your hand, sending you a worried smile and stood up to leave you alone with your thoughts. As you sat there, you found yourself playing with James’ sweater, fiddling with and pulling out the loose strands. You feared that this was the end of yours and James’ friendship, perhaps even for good. You weren’t sure you could go back to being friends, it simply felt too emotionally difficult to be nothing but mates. You couldn’t do it. A small part of you wanted to be angry with James. In fact, you wanted to be furious at him for toying with your feelings like that. You wanted to scream and send him a jinx that would cause his head to become an octopus. Maybe then he’d see how much he sucked. But, you couldn’t. You couldn’t even be annoyed. The only thing you could feel was the throbbing hurt of your broken heart and helplessly missing a certain James Potter.

Sirius had become just as frustrated if not even more frustrated than Remus. He had become fed up with constantly telling James to grab life by the balls and tell you how he truly feels. It became too much when James was fidgeting during breakfast before his second Quidditch game.  

“James Middle-Name-That-I’ve-Forgotten Potter!” 

James looked up alarmed, “Padfoot? What’s wrong? You never call me James,”

“You! You’re what’s wrong.”

“Padfoot, don’t do this right now, I’m already nervous enough for the game.”

“This is the absolute last time I’ll say it if you don’t tell Y/N how you feel, I won’t talk to you for a week and we both know that’ll be right awful.”

“I’ll do it! I swear, I’ll do it, it just has to be the right time. And-and now, it’s just not.”

“Then when will be the right time?” Sirius prodded, “In a year? Two? When you’re old and wrinkled?”

James bit his lip, knowing full well that Sirius was right. “I’ll tell her at the party tonight,”

Sirius rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Yeah, like that turned out well last time you did that.”

“Well! I-okay? It’ll be fine!” James groaned loudly. Why was he such a coward?

“I mean it, James. Do it, or you’ll regret it.” Sirius pointed. “I didn’t pretend to be Y/N and fake kiss you for nothing.”

“You were the one who pretended to kiss me!” James accused,

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” Sirius clicked his tongue.

“I didn’t,” James said. 

Although James felt joyous over his quidditch game win, he could feel the nerves bundled in his stomach. As he reached the common room James swallowed harshly and plainly greeted the partying Gryffindors who congratulated him. 

“Drink of firewhiskey?” Someone offered him, James shook his head.

“No thanks, mate. All yours.”

James searched the common room, his eyes scanning the heads of the bouncing and swaying students. His brown eyes locked with Sirius who sent him back a pointed look with eyebrows raised. He had to do it. He had to do it now. James Potter blinked, hoping to find you somewhere in the crowd with a smile on your face that he so loved. James pushed against the throng of students before reaching Remus who was leaned against the wall.

“Moony,” James said with relief.

“There you are! Hold on,” Remus fixed James’ glasses that seemed to have come askew and crooked on his nose. “Two wins in a row, how bloody lucky are you?”

“Yeah yeah,” James waved it off before asking frantically, “Where’s Y/N?”

Remus’ face dropped and his eyes showed nothing but wariness, “Why?”

“I need to tell her something.”

“Have you been drinking again?”

James shook his head rapidly, “No. Where is she?”

“Prongs, I think-”

“Moons, I’m sorry, I don’t have time for this. I need to see her, I need to see her and tell her I love her. I need to do it and I need to do it now,”

Remus’ eyes lifted in surprise, “Oh.”

“I know, I know. But, where is she? I need to find her.”

Remus’ thoughts were racing horses and he seemed to piece together what was happening, “James.”

“Please, Remus. Please tell me where she is.”

Remus bit his bottom lip, “I think I saw her in the courtyard, sitting in one of the window sills, but-” Before he could continue, James spun around and hurried out of the common room. 

Sirius strutted over and slung an arm around Remus’ shoulders. 

“Is he going-”

“Yup.”

“And does Y/N feel-”

“Yup.”

Sirius turned his head with a wide grin, “Thank god. I was nearly ripping out my hair waiting for him to tell her.” Remus hummed in response. As Sirius seemed to quiet, Remus turned to him with questioning eyes.

“I need to tell you something-”

Remus interrupted him, “You pretended to be Y/N for James, didn’t you? That’s why you pretended to wear a dress.”

Sirius sighed pathetically, “Yeah. And I kind of liked it.” 

James could feel the sweat begin to bead on his forehead, and the adrenaline run through his veins as he looked the corridors for you. This was it. James could feel it. He was ready, he was in love with you and nothing else seemed to matter but the idea of you. You. He loved you. He would rip the skin off his back to keep you warm or swing upside down on a tree with his trousers off just to make you smile. 

It was cold. Cold enough to feel a brisk breeze on your shoulders and cold enough for you to wrap yourself in your arms. You enjoyed the quiet, at least you learned to enjoy it. You debated on returning to the common room to attend the party like Remus and Sirius had begged you to, but you quickly decided against it. You stared up at the stars that blinked back at you. Though you were absolute bollocks at astronomy, you found yourself counting the stars, seeking a constellation, or maybe even guidance. A cloud brushed over the dark skies, the twinking stars disappearing into the darkness. You sighed and stared at your feet until you heard something. What was that? It sounded almost like thunder, pounding against the corridor floors. As you curiously faced the source of the noise, you could barely make out a tall figure bounding towards you. You could make out their messy hair that seemed to stick out everywhere. Messy hair. James. It was James. He ran towards the courtyard, pausing to look madly all-around before spotting you. James Potter froze, his mouth coming agape. The adrenaline and rush that he had previously felt faded every slow step he took towards you. Your hands instantly became sweaty and you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes from his. Should you run? Maybe, if you hurried now, you could make it back to your dorm in minutes. But you stayed. You stayed, watching his every move until he finally reached where you were sitting.

“Hi,” he whispered, barely trusting his voice right now. 

“Hi,” you said back, your voice shaky and low. His eyes looked towards the free space next to you on the bench, a silent question if he could sit. Your eyes widened as you scooted over allowing James to sit. It was silent, something neither of you were used to. Before, it was rare that you two had a minute of quietness between you as the conversation seemed to bounce naturally. But now, it was hushed. James clenched his hands nervously.

“Congratulations on your win, James,” you said sincerely, surprised that you had even said something. James inhaled. He didn’t want to talk about quidditch. He didn’t want to talk about anything, he wanted to lean in and kiss you and tell you how much he truly adored you.

“I need to tell you something.” James let out.

“James-”

“No, please? Let me talk.” You stayed silent,

“I made a mistake at the last party.”

“Really, we don’t have to talk about it. We can just forget about it.”

“No, I don’t want to forget about it. It was a mistake. But not in the way you’re thinking. It was a mistake because I shouldn’t have told you how I felt like that. I feel like a right prat and, and.” James lost his words for a moment before clearing his throat, “I should’ve never told you I loved you when I was drunk. And, I should’ve never pretended I had forgotten about it either.”

This was painful. He did remember, he just ignored it. You managed to pull your lips into a small smile, “James. It’s okay. It didn’t mean anything, we can just-”

“No, that’s the thing. It did mean something. It meant something to me. I have been trying, constantly trying, to find a way to tell you, but I’m terrified of losing you.” 

“You’d never lose me-”

“Y/N, you little shit,” he let out a small joke making you laugh, “Will you please be quiet because I swear I’ll go mad if you don’t.”

“I...  I adore you.” James said finally. Your hands went cold and you struggled to breathe. It was a trick, wasn’t it? Or a nightmare? Or were you daydreaming in the library again and you’ll soon be woken up by the sound of a book dropping? 

“What?”

“It’s true. I adore you. I think you are frustratingly annoying sometimes when you lose at exploding snap, when you argue with me I go a little insane and sometimes you snort when you laugh. I had this whole speech planned out and I was supposed to have flowers, but whenever I see you I just. I lose myself a bit. But, I think you’re amazing.” James shifted in his seat, getting a good look at you. You were thin and had bags under your eyes, but you were still just as beautiful as you were when you were children. “And I. I love you.” 

“Have you been-”

“No. I haven’t been drinking. I’m as sober as a nun and I can say now, finally, that I, James Potter, am terribly and irretrievably in love with you. I have been and always will be.”

You sat there stunned. James bit his bottom lip nervously, looking up at you, eyelashes on his cheeks as he wondered what you were thinking. He had an anxious smile on his lips.

“Say it again,” you said softly. 

“I love you.” James reached and interlocked his fingers with yours.

“Again,”

“I love you.” You let out a breath of shaky air, your lungs could implode. You couldn’t help it. Tears welled in your eyes, you couldn’t even blink them back in time. You could taste the salty tears slip down onto your lips as you began to cry. James looked alarmed and raised his hand to cup your cheek softly wipe the tears with his thumb.

“Please don’t cry Y/N. I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“No,” you sobbed, “Please. Don’t say anything. This? This is... perfect.”

“But, you’re crying,” James said worriedly, brushing more tears off your face. You felt yourself do something you hadn’t done in a while. You smiled. You beamed through your tears and sent James a dazzling smile that nearly knocked him off his seat.

“I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m... I’m perfectly happy right now.”

James could feel his own eyes begin to tear up as he sniffled and laughed, “Well you’ve gone and made me all soft now.”

“Oh, James. I missed you.” You leaned comfortingly into his hand.

“I missed you too, Love.” James whispered, “And I’ll never leave you again.”

“Will you say it again, for me?”

“I’ll say it every second of every day if need be, I love you. I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

You laughed out in relief, wishing to hear him say those sincere words again.

“I love you too. I love you, James Potter. I’ll love you until I stop breathing, until the day I die and even more.”

“Will you say it again for me?”

You closed your eyes, “I love you.”

Under the stars, the stars you had earlier compared your love to James Potter to, he kissed you. The salty tears of both yours and his mixed as you smiled, beyond joyful, effortlessly happy. A weight slipped off your shoulders and landed on the ground as James held your face in his hand and pushed all his love, his endearments, his affections into this kiss. You pulled away, foreheads pressed together as you felt nothing but content. From the beginning of your life together, James Potter knew you were destined to be together, tied with heartstrings. And slowly, but surely, the love you both shared combined, and not even the stars could outshine it. 

#james potter #james potter imagines #james potter imagine #marauders imagine #marauders #remus lupin imagine #sirius black imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter #harry potter imagine

[snowstark]

No Use Crying Over Spilled Coffee ☕️

For @buckybarnesbingo | Y3 - AU: Coffee Shop

LINK TO AO3

Summary: Steve hasn’t been to the coffee shop across his street in two years. To his surprise, the barista still remembers his order. There’s no way that means anything though, right? (Spoiler alert: it does).

Steve hadn’t been to this place in two years.

Two years was a long time.

In two years, he’d grown a beard. In two years, he’d managed to earn enough that he was able to switch his polyester suits for cashmere. In two years, Steve went from a stammering, newly-hired intern to Pepper Potts’ personal assistant in Stark Industries.

So yeah, Steve Rogers was a grown ass man, and he was still scared of showing his face to his neighbourhood coffee shop. Humiliating.

But, well. That was two years ago. And there was no way Twink Barista would still be working here.

He was wrong. Twink Barista was still working there, and somehow, even assuming that he would’ve been able to find a new, better job where he didn’t have to deal with angry businessmen made Steve feel even guiltier. He of all people knew that job hunting wasn’t easy. Had been jobless and couch surfing for a while, until he’d met Pepper and she’d seen something in him.

This was fine. He could deal with this. Two years had passed. He’d probably forgotten all about Steve, had probably allowed the memory to fade into other similar ones. Besides, he’d changed. He had a beard now. Wasn't that basically a disguise?

This was fine. He could deal with this. Two years had passed. He’d probably forgotten all about Steve, had probably allowed the memory to fade into other similar ones. Besides, he’d changed. He had a beard now. Wasn't that basically a disguise?

This was fine. He could deal with this. Two years had passed. He’d probably forgotten all about Steve, had probably allowed the memory to fade into other similar ones. Besides, he’d changed. He had a beard now. Wasn't that basically a disguise?

This was fine. He could deal with this. Two years had passed. He’d probably forgotten all about Steve, had probably allowed the memory to fade into other similar ones. Besides, he’d changed. He had a beard now. Wasn't that basically a disguise?

There was a long line, so Steve sat down at a table. He hated lines; he was willing to wait half an hour until it cleared out.

Then he started second-guessing himself, because shit, maybe he should just get in line to order when the barista was busy with multiple customers waiting so that he wouldn’t even take a long look at Steve’s face.

What if he remembered Steve? What if he reacted badly? What if—why did Steve even care? Baristas dealt with angry people on the daily. Steve knew from experience. So why did he care?

Because he didn’t like being an asshole, or a bully.

And he’d been both, and hadn’t ever bothered to try to make amends afterwards, had just disappeared.

All over spilled coffee.

Twink Barista was still cute. Same hair, same shy look on his face, same flushed cheeks. The first time Steve had laid eyes on him, he’d, well, he’d been charmed, to say the least. The way he’d nervously fidgeted as he let Steve pay for his order had made him smile, and his squeaked, “Thank you, Sir, your order will be right with you,” had really just been the cherry on the top.

Sir.

Steve… liked that.

Steve liked being called Sir. Not just at work, but in bed. And hearing Twink Barista—fuck, what was his name again?—utter that title had… well, he hadn’t had to deal with that problem when scalding hot coffee had soaked his stomach and pants. And crotch.

Twink Barista had a co-worker now, too, he noted. He was cute, like a golden retriever, with how much he smiled and nodded as he took orders from customers, how he handed them their drinks with an extra flourish, beaming. Like life was content, and everything was rainbows and sunshine. If Steve squinted from where he was, he could see that his name started with a C, and when he leaned closer—subtly—the best he got was… Cit? Clit? Oh, god, please don’t let his name be Clit.

Two customers left, which left just a few in the store. He should probably get in line now. But his feet couldn’t move, like they were stuck to the floor, because he wasn’t sure whether facing Twink Barista or a blonde guy potentially named Clit would be worse.

Fortunately—unfortunately?—he didn't have to decide.

Blonde guy—Steve refused to refer to him as “Clit,” even mentally, goddammit—started bustling around after Twink Barista murmured something to him, and stepped out from behind the counter with a mug.

And headed straight for Steve.

Oh, god. This wasn’t—this couldn’t—

Steve tried to look anywhere and everywhere else he could, even considered getting up to flee, but it was too late.

Blonde guy—Clint! Steve noted with dizzying relief—set down the mug on the small round table that he was sitting at and beamed. “For you!”

Steve swallowed back… whatever he’d been about to say, and hesitated for a long few moments before saying dumbly, “I didn’t stand in line.” He could feel his shirt begin to get damp with sweat.

Clint seemed unfazed. He shrugged and smiled politely, maybe a bit awkwardly, but it was still just as warm as the one he’d given the other customers. “My buddy Bucky says it’s your favourite. Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but Clint hurried away before he could. His favourite. What the hell did that mean?

He reached out, picked up the warm mug, and took a sip. His cheeks flushed with heat the moment the drink hit his taste buds. He pulled back almost reflexively, nearly choking on his drink, tongue burning both from the flavour and how hot it was.

He jerked his head up and towards the direction of the counter, and met Twink—Bucky’s—eyes for a split second before Bucky hurriedly looked away. His cheeks flushed a darker shade of pink than usual, Steve noted, because Steve always noticed small things like that. He suddenly began talking animatedly with customers, but Steve could pick out the tension in his shoulders, the way he kept swallowing reflexively like he was trying to push down bile, like he was nervous that Steve would—like he might—

No. Enough. Steve had a meeting in a bit more than half an hour. He’d come here to relax. So that was what he’d do.

He picked up the mug again and took another sip, then began to read his newspaper, because he was here to relax.

The article was talking about a dog that had managed to save four people from a fire before firefighters could step in.

Lucky, a golden lab at the spry age of two, suffered three mild burns after—

“Sir, please, I didn’t—please don’t leave without pay—”

“What the fuck did you say? You think it’s okay to just say that after you fuckin’ spill that all over me?”

“Sir, I’m s-so—”

—safe to say that Lucky did not suffer any serious injuries. Our furry neighbourhood hero—

“You think you can fucking get a bill after that clown show? You think—god, are you—are you that dense?”

“I promise, Sir, I’ll get you a new drink—”

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it. Unbelievable. You think it’s easy to get this dry-cleaned? Do you even realize how much I—”

Steve’s grip tightened on the paper, and he wished the store would turn up their soft jazz music, if only to block out the sounds in his head.

By the time he finished his drink, he had fifteen minutes to spare, but he didn’t want to spend a second longer in here. So, he yanked out his wallet, pulled out a few bills at random—they happened to be hundreds—and shifted the mug so that he could slide it under, just enough so that half of the bills were poking out. He grabbed the unused napkin Clint had brought with it, pulled out a pen from his pocket, and scrawled, Thank you for the drink, Bucky. My favourite. - S.R.

Then, he got the fuck out of there without looking back even once.

__________

For some unfathomable reason, Steve returned to the coffee shop a few days later.

Maybe it was to try to make amends, since his little napkin note wasn’t, well, enough. Or maybe he just wanted to stare at Bucky again. He was pretty.

He was disappointed to see that Bucky wasn’t there when he stood in line; it was just Clint again, and a red-haired girl, but that was okay. It wasn’t like his life depended on seeing the guy. Besides, Bucky had to have a life outside of his job too.

Steve wondered if he still thought about the incident as frequently as Steve did. He clearly remembered it, considering he’d remembered Steve’s order, but…

He jumped when the door opened with a loud jingle, and speak of the devil, in stepped Bucky. He looked flushed, and his hair was a sweaty mess that he reached up to push away from his forehead. He still looked pretty.

Steve almost raised a hand to say hi, and barely stopped himself in time as Bucky turned and met his eyes, covering his ass by pretending to scritch at his beard. He gave a small smile, a hopeful one, wait, no, what was wrong with him, and Bucky flashed him one that didn’t quite reach his eyes before scrambling to get behind the counter.

There were only two people in front of him, so it wasn’t a long wait, and in less than two minutes, Steve found himself standing in front of Bucky. Clint and the red-head squawked inaudibly to each other, but it was clearly some teasing thrown at Bucky, because Steve noticed Bucky subtly stepping on Clint’s toes, drawing out a muffled yelp from him.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” Bucky gave him a small smile. Again, didn’t quite reach his eyes.

That was mostly Steve’s fault, he supposed. He didn’t exactly look like a sweet, innocent little lamb right now either, probably worse than two years ago. “The usual,” he supplied, raising an eyebrow to see if Bucky understood, just because he wanted to.

Bucky’s cheeks grew rosy. “Of course. Is that all?”

“Mmm…” Steve let his gaze slide over to the pastries that were on display. “Give me your favourite from the desserts, too.”

“Of course.” Bucky tapped into the screen, brows knitting as he concentrated, and shit, he was really cute.

Steve swallowed. “Thanks. How much?”

“Oh, um, it’s fine. I’ll just—it’s on me. You paid more than enough last time.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “No, c’mon, kid. How much?”

Bucky flushed. “‘m not a kid.”

“No?” Steve pointedly let his eyes roam over Bucky’s face, then down to his chest before flicking back up, delighted—because he was a sadist, sue him—to see Bucky’s face growing even warmer at the attention. “Sure look like one.”

Bucky gaped, and Steve suddenly—he—what the fuck was he doing? Jesus. He shook his head. “Sorry, just, look, just tell me how much.” He was—that was so inappropriate and unprofessional, he shouldn’t even be—

“Ten bucks,” Bucky mumbled, and Steve paid.

He glanced over his shoulder and noted that there were only three people actually sitting in the shop and no one in line behind him, which, cool, that was good. “Thanks,” he said simply, then moved to sit down.

He watched as Bucky hurriedly bowed his head, making his drinks, hissing something to his co-workers, cheeks still pink, and Steve saw him pop a matcha strawberry brownie into the oven.

He glanced down at his phone, answered a quick email, then sent Pepper a text saying that he might be a few minutes late back from his break, which she responded to with a thumbs up, and then the water gun emoji. He smiled.

“Your wife?”

Steve jumped and looked up, turning his phone off reflexively. Bucky set down the plate and mug in front of him. “Oh, no, my, uh, my boss.” He laughed awkwardly.

Bucky looked mortified. “Oh my god, I’m—I don’t even know why I asked that, I shouldn’t have even been looking, I’m so sorry, I don’t usually—I didn’t—”

“Bucky, it’s fine.” Steve gave him a smile that he hoped was warm, and reached out to take his drink. Bucky’s eyes followed his movements anxiously. “Thank you for the drink.”

Bucky blinked. “You paid for it.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek. “I guess so.”

Bucky swallowed, glanced over his shoulder at Clint, who raised an eyebrow at him, and Steve smiled, he couldn’t help it, okay? “Is there a problem?”

Bucky shook his head, hard. “No, no, oh—it’s just—you know, it’s just an inside joke or something.” He flushed again, and Steve’s eyes lingered on his face for a few moments before he tore it away to take a bite from the brownie. “Um, is there anything else I can—that I can do? So that—I don’t want to mess up like—maybe you don’t even remember that it was me, but—”

“Two years ago?” The words slipped before Steve could bite them back.

Bucky swallowed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, um, okay, you do remember. That’s… not fun.”

Steve took the time to think over his words before responding. “No, I suppose not,” he finally said. Bucky twitched. “But only because I keep remembering your tears while I yelled at you.” He huffed humourlessly.

Bucky hesitated, then— “My crocodile tears, you mean?”

“Oh, shit, I did call them that, didn’t I?” Steve gave him a rueful glance. “Look, Bucky, I didn’t—that was two years ago. And I don’t know what possessed me to say those things.” His chest tightened up anxiously, but it was fine, this was good, he’d have some closure, and if he was lucky, he’d be on good terms with Bucky. Who was very pretty. “I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is: I’m sorry.”

Bucky gaped at Steve, and Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat, busying himself with his drink as he waited for—something. “It’s… it’s okay,” he croaked. “Thanks. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.” Steve gave him a small smile. “We’re good now, okay? I promise.”

Bucky nodded, looking just as relieved as Steve felt. “Yeah, okay, cool.”

Steve saw Clint pump his fist in the air behind the counter not-so-subtly out of the corner of his eye.

__________

Steve visited every day during his break.

Bucky was less shy and anxious around him now, sometimes even cracking jokes with him, sometimes holding small talk with him, and no matter what he did, it felt perfect. Steve… was having fun. For the first time in years.

Sometimes, he didn’t even get anything besides a cup of water, and Bucky would still treat it like it was the most precious thing in the world as he carried it over to his table.

Bucky set down his coffee in front of him, beaming. “For you.”

Steve laughed. “Bucky, I’m—god, you’re gonna turn me into an addict.”

Bucky smiled shyly. “That’s okay. It just means you’ll keep coming back here, won’t it?”

Steve melted. “Aw, shit.” He grinned. “You’re a real charmer.”

Bucky laughed. “Yeah, yeah, says the guy in the suit.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad everything’s going well for you.”

“Thank you,” Steve said warmly. “You—I didn’t know you’d still be here, actually.” He took a sip. “Thought you’d have, well, I dunno. Moved on.”

“Oh!” Bucky shuffled his feet, and he scratched at the back of his neck in a way, cheeks rosy. “Yeah, well, I mean. No Fortune 500 company wants a college dropout. I’ve tried, but not much success.”

Shit. “Sorry. That was rude.”

“‘s fine. It’s true. I mean, two years is a long time.”

That was true. Two years was a long time. Two years and Steve had changed. Maybe Bucky could, too. If Steve helped. And he wanted to. Bucky was… Bucky was the biggest sweetheart Steve had ever met. He already knew Pepper would be charmed by him, would love him, maybe even take him under her wing like she’d done for Steve, and that was good, because then Bucky would get a promotion—

You mean if it’s good because it means you get to see more of his cute ass— shut up.

Steve sipped his drink thoughtfully, then— fuck it. “I could try to help,” he said. “Pepper—my boss—she’s looking for another assistant. Well, assistant to her assistant, I guess, would be a better way to explain it. So, a personal assistant for me. It’s at Stark Industries.” He shrugged. “I already know you—” Barely. “—so it’s not like making a recommendation would be odd. Networking.”

Bucky gaped at him. “You’re—oh my god, you’re insane.”

Steve laughed, surprised. “Am I?”

“Yes!” Bucky spluttered. “I just—you can’t just offer a job like that, Steve.”

“Why the hell not? It’s my assistant, Pepper won’t care.” He shrugged. She really wouldn’t. Bucky continued to stare disbelievingly, and Steve suddenly began to wonder if it’d been the wrong decision, if he’d pushed too hard, too fast, too— Shhh. “We’re friends now, aren’t we? ‘s what friends do for each other.” Steve waited, then broke into a grin at the expression on Bucky’s face. He was pretty sure Bucky would be at a loss for words for the next five minutes, when—

“And does being your personal assistant entail some action behind the scenes at home?”

Steve choked on his drink, coughing, his face glowing with heat.

Bucky looked equally mortified and taken aback by the words that had left his mouth, and he cried out, “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I swear I didn’t—”

“Bucky!” Steve spluttered. “You’re fine! It’s fine!”

Bucky was still red in the face, and he was back to not looking Steve in the eyes, which, ugh, that was progress gone one step backwards. “I’m sorry. That was so unprofessional, I didn’t—”

Steve shook his head, shoulders shaking with laughter. “No, you’re fine. We’re friends. Friends joke around, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said faintly. “Yeah, I guess so. ‘m still sorry.”

Suddenly feeling mischievous, Steve grinned and replied, “Forgiven—but only if you spell out what you meant for me.”

Bucky gaped.

Steve raised an eyebrow, and Bucky’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I’m waiting,” he drawled.

Bucky blushed and made a frustrated, embarrassed noise as he shifted his weight on the balls of his feet, looking hesitant as Clint and the girl bustled around behind him, clearly trying to be inconspicuous while eavesdropping. It made Steve’s lips twitch in amusement. “It’s just, I guess… you’re like, you emit rich energy now, my stupid brain just classified you—your offer as a sugar daddy thing, but as a joke, but I swear—”

Steve had been joking about earning his forgiveness, but curiosity took over against his better judgement, and he involuntarily leaned closer, but he never got to hear the rest of Bucky’s response because his phone suddenly rang out loudly in the nearly empty store, and he scowled. He snatched his phone up and the screen flashed the name TONY up at him. “Shit, I’m sorry. I have to take this.”

“Oh.” Bucky stared. “Oh, okay.”

Steve felt a pang of regret watching him back away, but there wasn’t anything he could do, not when Tony was calling him for god knew what. He picked up and when he spoke, his voice came out more curtly than he’d intended for it to, which was even worse because he knew Tony would pick up on that. “Tony.”

“Ohhh, Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve. You sound busy. Are you busy, Steve-o?” Tony drawled into the phone, then hissed, “Dummy, I swear to god, I’m gonna turn you into a pile of scraps, I’m gonna sell your parts, I’m gonna—”

“A bit,” Steve interrupted. “I was just in the middle of a conversation.” His gaze drifted to Bucky, who was cleaning up a table nearby. His cheeks reddened the slightest bit at Steve’s attention. Cute.

“Oh, really now?” God, Steve could just picture Tony wiggling his eyebrows delightedly. “That’s cute, baby, that’s real cute. Look, I need you to do something.”

“Don’t call me ‘baby.’” Steve rolled his eyes. “What is it?”

“You’ll find out. Tomorrow. Don’t ask Pepper about it. Can’t spoil the surprise, soldier. Just got excited, couldn’t help but call you about it.”

“God, Tony, you’re like, the CEO of the biggest company in the world; don’t you have better, more important things to do?” Steve chuckled fondly.

“Mm, nope.” Tony was smirking. Steve knew he was. “Now, I’ll let you go back to trying to hook up with twinks at your local cafe.”

“I— what?” Steve spluttered, and now it was his turn to get red in the face. “How do you even—”

“Byeee, Steve,” Tony sing-songed, and then the call ended.

Steve left shortly after that, because Bucky became too busy with a group of teenagers who’d come into the shop, and he could only make Pepper wait so long.

He didn’t forget to scribble his number on a napkin, though.

For networking purposes.

Totally.

__________

He waited, but his phone stayed silent for the rest of the day.

Steve had nearly given up by eleven when his phone buzzed, and the screen lit up with a message from an unknown number. He snatched it up immediately, unlocked his phone, and opened the Messages app.

Unknown Number: Hi. It’s Bucky.

Steve took the time to add Bucky to his contacts because duh, then replied.

Steve: Hey! :) Good rest of the day?

The response came immediately.

Bucky: Yeah, just got weirdly busy after our talk.

Bucky: Did you really mean it? The job thing?

Steve: Of course I did. I can’t guarantee it for sure, but I have some influence over who we hire, so. Better than nothing, right?

Bucky: Yeah, yeah.

Steve sucked the inside of his cheek, trying to think of what to say, when—

Bucky: Thank you. I appreciate it

Steve: No problem. A new (better) start to our friendship lol

Bucky: Lol yes. I promise I won’t ruin your suit this time

Steve typed out, You can ruin my suit anytime you want as a joke, but he hastily deleted it because that sounded way too sexual.

Steve: I’ll count on it ;)

Bucky: Stop by the shop tmr?

Steve: Baby, all you had to do was ask. Xoxo goodnight now

Shit. He hadn’t meant to use the pet name.

Bucky: Goodnight!!!

Bucky: <3

Okay, it was fine, then. More than fine. Bucky had sent him a heart. Steve grinned, then set his phone down to prepare for bed.

This was good. It was. It was a new friendship, and Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually made a friend, and he should be happy with himself for having the courage to apologize and come to a reconciliation with Bucky. He had no idea how this was going to end, but that didn’t matter. He was satisfied with what he had.

He most definitely should not be wishing that they were more than just friends.

#stucky #steve/bucky #stevebucky #steve x bucky #buckybarnesbingo2021 #coffee shop au #dom!steve #sub!bucky #my fics #lmk if u wanna be tagged for part 2 or smth <3