#I like fern too. I hope she gets her son back

[im-not-here-im-dead]

here. have some awful doodles. seriously just the worst.

#it was bound to happen at some point #I’ve only had Isaac and Willis for one layer but if anything ever happened to them I would explode the entire universe with everybody in it #crash is still my favorite tho -_- #lumpy little fffffffartface #son of a bicycle #pain in my astrophysics #genuinely mean person #hate his stupid face #I hope he’ll be okay #I like fern too. I hope she gets her son back #awful hospital #not utdr

[footprintsinthesxnd]

The Good Die Young

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of graphic themes, war, injury, weapons, sexual images, language, 18+, swearing, major character death. Pairings: Jake Seresin × f!reader. Disclaimer: This is a series reflecting on the true events of the US Marines in WW2. All of the characters are fictional and not based off are original characters (except for Jake Seresin) and they are not representations of the real, brave men who fought in WW2. I have tried to make all the events in this series as accurate as possible but please bear in mind this is fanfiction and i have added/ changed certain things to fit with this.

Massive thank you to everyone you followed this story for start to finish. It has been an honour and a privilege to write. Huge thank you to @desert-fern for listening to my endless rants about this series and I’m sorry for breaking your heart multiple times. I hope you can forgive me.

New Jersey July 1946

Y/n’s fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel of Frank’s car as she pulled into the cemetery car park. Frank and Fern had invited her to New Jersey to stay with them, while Y/n sorted out her new life in the States. She had moved with Fern shortly after the end of the war and while Fern already had a house with Frank, Y/n was still looking for somewhere permanent for her and her son Jacob to live.

The cemetery car park was empty, except for a few cars parked on the far side. Y/n couldn’t quite bring herself to get out of the car, her eyes traveling over the neatly placed rows of pale ivory crosses. They seemed to go on for miles, as far as the eye could see and seemed a stark contrast to the brightly coloured lives of the young men they represented.

Frank had arranged after the war for all of his friends' bodies to be repatriated back to the states and placed together in the same cemetery. ‘They deserve to stay together’ he had told Y//n when he’d first explained what he had arranged. Y/n liked the idea that Jake was alongside Edward and Johnny and that Frank didn’t live too far away. Y/n had been devastated to receive the news of Edward’s death so soon after Jake’s. It felt as though she hadn’t just lost Jake but she was gradually losing all of them. George and Edwards's hospital ship had been hit by Japanese pilots whilst being transported back to the mainland. George survived the disaster, unfortunately losing both his legs but Edward hadn’t stood a chance. The faces of the four young men filled Y/n's mind as she unstrapped Jacob’s car seat and lifted her two-year-old son into her arms.

Y/n’s heart felt heavy as she followed the white crossed rows, the names of each one etching her memory, their ages scrawled across her heart; 18 years, 21 years, 24 years… so many lives cut short. It was at the end of the row that she noticed some familiar names ‘Johnathan ‘Shorty’ Carter’, ‘Edward ‘Mary’ Hughes’, ‘Jacob ‘Cowboy’ Seresin’. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh that Frank had included all their nicknames. Each cross was beautifully clean, each one had fresh flowers placed at the base and a picture of the soldier smiling happily in their Marine dress blues. Y/n had never seen that photo of Jake before. She dug into her handbag and pulled out the drawing of Daphne that she had kept since Jake sent it to her. She placed it carefully in its frame in front of Johnny’s cross. “You’re right, Johnny. She really was a beauty.”

She smiled sadly as she unclasped the chain from her neck and hung it over Jake’s cross, her engagement ring hanging loosely down the ivory stone. Y/n sat down before his grave, her little boy in her lap, running her fingers over his headstone and something within her broke. She let out a silent sob, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as tears began to flow freely. Jacob just sat quietly in his mother's lap, playing with a blade of grass he had picked, seemingly unaware of the devastation before him. Y/n was pleased really that he would never know the heartbreak the world had suffered over the last 6 years.

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” she cried. “I miss you so much.” She cried for what felt like hours, all the grief that she had bottled up for all those months ,while raising her son, finally escaped through the cracks of her broken heart.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind her caused Y/n to turn, rubbing her hands over her cheeks, no longer concerned whether her makeup was smudged.

“Excuse me, Miss, do you mind if I lay some flowers here?” The young man was standing on crutches, the lower half of his left leg was no longer there and in its place, he’d tied his trouser leg into a knot. He leaned forward as much as he could, gesturing towards Jake’s grave.

“Of course,” Y/n pulled herself to her feet, moving little Jacob to stand next to her. “Please.” She helped the young man move forward to lay his flowers beside her own before he stood back and saluted Jake’s grave.

“I’m sorry, I have to ask but did you know him well?” Y/n asked, hopeful that he may be able to shed some light on the situation.

“Not all that well. I was only with him for four months but he took me under his wing and he protected me. He was kind to me as a new marine, never once treating me any differently. He was like an older brother.” The young man looked down sadly, tears evident in his eyes. “My name is Daniel Chase.”

He reached out his hand, allowing Y/n to shake it. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n, Jake’s fiancé.”

“I know,” Daniel replied. “He spoke of you often and he showed me a picture of you once. He said it was the happiest day of his life when you had a picnic on the beach in Melbourne.”

Y/n felt tears pricking her eyes again as she listened to Daniel speak. “He was a good man Y/n, he really cared about his soldiers and his friends.”

Y/n nodded, she knew Jake cared for people but she never truly knew the impact he had on his fellow Marines.

Y/n reached out for Daniel’s hand again, “Thank you, Daniel. Thank you for sharing that with me. I sometimes feel that he’s gone forever but then I look at my little boy and I know I’ll always have a part of me with him.”

Daniel smiled back at her, “I understand. Sometimes I wonder why I made it back home and so many others didn’t.”

“I think it’s down to luck…” Y/n paused, “or whether you want to be stupidly brave.”

They both laughed recalling all the times Jake performed ridiculous tasks in the face of grave danger. And at least for now, he could rest in a quiet part of New Jersey knowing that his country was free from war and terror.

Jake Seresin was awarded the Medal of Honour for his bravery in the Pacific. His fiancée accepted the medal on his behalf.

George returned to Alabama and married his fiancée Florence. They have a quiet life in Mobile, Alabama with their two daughters and their dog. George became a construction contractor.

Frank married Fern and they have two sons. They have a nice life in New Jersey. Frank became a headteacher at the local high school.

Daniel returned to the States and after many months on crutches he was fitted with a prosthetic leg. He met his future wife ,Faye, who worked at the local school shortly after. They are married and have three children. Daniel went back to university and trained as a doctor. He became a leader surgeon in his field. His family split their time between the States and Europe.

Y/n never remarried. She became a writer for the Wall Street Journal and wrote a book about the life of the Marines in the Pacific with Frank’s help. She lives with her son, Jacob, in New York. Every year they hold a reunion in Jake, Johnny and Edward’s honour and visit the cemetery.

All who returned from the war were never the same men they were when they left, all bore scars from the conflict and each man had to carry on with life the best they could, never forgetting their fallen comrades who didn’t get to see the world in peace.

Taglist: @wkndwlff @a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all @imjess-themess @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @callsignmaverick5 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @luckyladycreator2 @abaker74 @elenavampire21 @classyunknownlover @okiegirl24 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @airedale17 @shadowolf993 @topguncultleader @callmemana @t-nd-rfoot @desert-fern @cherrycola27 @green-socks @jstarr86 @starkleila @alexxavicry @floralfloyd @soulmates8 @depressed-friend-blog @mamachasesmayhem @bcon24 @books-are-escapes @dakotakazansky @memeorydotcom

#the good die young #jake hangman seresin x reader #ww2 us marines #ww2 jake seresin #top gun maverick

[adarkrainbow]

Since I was asked about "wishes" in French fairytales, I was remembered of one "folk-fairytale" I came across recently... It is a French variation of "The Fisherman and his Wife", that was collected by Claude Seignolle as part of a quest for the fairytales of Guyenne (a former region of France that doesn't exist anymore but covered most of south-west France).

The story is called "The poor people that were too envious"

Once upon a time there were very poor and sad people who lived in a small cabin in the woods. They were three: a father, a mother and a son. One year, they were even poorer than usual - bread, which was already rare on their table, was completely gone, and all they could eat were the roots of ferns (which taste very bad). One day, the mother sent her son on the road, so he could beg for some bread - she hoped that people would take pity on a hungry child.

On the road he met an old woman who asked him what he was doing. He explained the situation and she told him: Go back to your house, you'll find half of a loaf of bread. And indeed when he returned he found half of a loaf of bread on the table - because his parents had sliced up the other half and were eating it. The child told them it was an old woman he met on the road that had sent the bread.

The following day, the mother wanted to make soup. She asked her son to go on the road, try to find the same old lady, and ask her for some lard to make the soup. The old woman told the boy to return home, he would find a piece of lard hanging from the chimney - and lo and behold, when he came back his mother was cutting little pieces of lard to make her soup!

The mother was getting curious and so she asked her son to go on the road again, but this time to ask who was the old woman, and how she could "grant all our desires". The little boy asked the old woman this, and she told him: "Young one, I am the fairy, I am your godmother". When the boy told this to his mother, she asked what this fairy actually looked like... And the boy described how her teeth were as long as fingers, her ears so big they were like those of a donkey, her eyes so large they were like those of a cow, and her white hair so long it dragged on the floor. The parents were very surprised by this description, but not afraid.

The following day, the mother sent her son again to ask for something to drink, and they had large pints of wine.

And so each day the mother sent her son asking for new things. She asked for a new house ; and then for new clothes ; and then for money ; and then for horses and a stable ; and then for a castle... And each time the fairy godmother gave what the little boy asked her.

But one day... One day the mother sent her boy to ask the fairy this: Make the father a king, make the mother a queen, make the son a prince. He asked his fairy godmother this and all she replied was: "Go back home, and you'll see." And when he returned to his castle, the boy discovered that his parents had been turned into a couple of owls.

And then he looked at his own body... and found he was now a toad.

The end

#french fairytales #the fisherman and his wife #well a variation #fairy godmother #guyenne fairytales #folkloric fairytale

[intuwam]

Courts:

Autumn: Seoyun, Seojun

Summer: Jules, June

Spring: Haneul, Miyoung, Guard

Winter: Ahyeon, Kihyun, Noori, Daniel

I think, summer and winter courts, because of their power, have features that can easily be masked in the human world but for spring and autumn courts it’s a lot harder, each court holds festivals and dances that are related to that. That's why, spring and autumn court fae are more likely to hold dances and celebrate within in the veil of the human world, easier for people to get trapped and entranced, winter and summer court fae, are more likely to blend in the human world but less likely to venture out. Their dances are reserved for high fae and their court only. I think summer and winter fae might see themselves as the true fae, more regal and the autumn and spring fae might be seen as more animalistic, some even going far to say they’re the deformed ones.  

Seoyun.

Seoyun and Seojun probably retain some of the same features but all in all they might be opposites of one another. They both have the same eyes, white with a single circle or film in it, seoyun’s are more on the browner side than her brother, think the color of wood and oak trees. I think she does retain some of the broadness in her shoulders as well because in autumn things are strong and grow out, but she still has feminity to it, it’s seoyun for crying out loud she’s always been rather imposing but still feminine. While seojun’s veins are gray and silver hers are brown and silver, her skin tone isn’t as warm as his though, it’s a little more on the pale side, which makes the brown and silver stand out more. While Seojun’s got antler fixtures that extend from his eyebrows, I think seoyun has these fixtures extending beyond her shoulder-blades. They start from her clavicle and just branch out and down, almost exactly like branches and her ears point and are darker in the way a female deer’s would. Her wings are silver and brown, with speckles of light blue. Her wings definitely have more of the texture and structure of wood and branches but like her brother, aren’t used for much flying because of how thin they hold against the wind. I don’t think a lot of royal autumn faes fly with their wings, they’re more grounded so their wings tend to be heavier and thicker.

Haneul.

My son. So spring is strange because it has the coldness of winter but the hopeful rain and then warmth to bring summer.  Anyway, still going with the concept that the autumn and fall courts are quirky and beautiful with distinct changes in the anatomy. Haneul I’m almost positive has fair skin, it’s not too warm actually but it’s got traces of green, silver and blue in his veins, most specifically near the corners of his eyes, in the human world it probably just looks like heavy eye bags like he doesn’t get sleep, but in the fae world they shine. Same with his eyes, they’re probably clear but have specks of pinks, green and blue in them, it might cause someone to get dizzy if they stare too much. His hair’s teal and green, really shaggy and full, but not too long it stops at his shoulders. His hands are probably the most distinctive feature, on his knuckles flowers and ferns can sprout depending on his mood or depending later on, on the state of the court. They bloom flowers and sprout when he’s good, when he’s not anything bloomed will wilt and wilted weeds will start falling from his hair. Way back in the day, before his time, the old spring court royalty could sprout new fae from the buds that grew on their skin. I wanna say royal fae are the only ones who can produce life/elements from their body, the members of their court are just born with the variations on them. Haneul’s wings, aren’t big at all actually, opposite of the autumn court, but they help to flit around a little bit, they’re not heavy and really don’t extend past his shoulder blades much, but they get the job done. They're a softer color, silver and teal.  

Most spring court fae have a little bit of teal in their veins, and it almost makes them look like they have a cold, but the brightness and warmth in their skin can help to alleviate that, I also hc that as the seasons get closer to summer they start to look duller, because they’ve spent all their energy helping things grow and bloom, and when its just pulling from winter, they look their brightest and liveliest. Spring fae also are on the shy side, they prefer to tend to the lands, flitting about with forest animals and such, and are mischievous, prefer hiding in brush and fields than the other fae.  

Guard.

Ah yes. Haneul’s favorite person. So the spring court guard are tricky, they’re not built as the winter guard but they’re not as thin as the summer guard. They are quick, but excellent at masking themselves and blending in their environments. Their weapon of choice are long range as they prefer to attack from the brush, much like autumn court, autumn court has more brawn in them however.

Haneul’s guard wears the colors pink and teal and black, this particular fae has more colors of blue in his veins than anything else, but his skin is noticeably warmer toned than that of their prince. His ferns grown from his wrists and are quick to sharpen when he thinks there is danger around them. His wings droop, long below his shoulders and are black and dark blue in color. His most noticeable feature is the green of his eyes that match the ferns in his wrist and his stature, a little more built than the others.  

June.

MY BOY.

OH BOY THE SUMMER COURT. Obnoxiously bright and stressful for all those around them. I hc that way back when, in old days, the summer high court was downright painful to look at up close because they literally shone, like the sun. But now their skin just has a glow to it. It's also quite terrifying if the court isn’t doing well, the fae look dull, dead. Anyway june my boy.

So June, god the boy is the epitome of the summer court, one look at him and you know he’s the summer court, the only difference is that most summer court boys have smaller frames, their diets aren’t like the south, fruits, veggies, beans etc. The southern winter court, prides on rices, potatoes and meats. Anyway broad shouldered bright eyed junebug.  

His eyes are a clear brown, they look dark until you get closer and they look like the shine, in the way that hazel eyes do, nothing crazy really. The film that falls over it is just to prevent it from boring into others, most summer court fae have this so that when looking at other fae, it doesn’t feel like staring into a mirror. Anyway yes brown hair, full and pretty long, usually in a ponytail bc its hot. Most summer court fae pride themselves in their hair bc it grows so full and can be sold as if it’s spun gold. High court fae rarely cut their hair, unless for special occasions. Im doing all these hc and im supposed to be writing about june. Anyway. Anyway, no matter the color of their hair, in summer court light it’ll always shine like gold.  

I think because the summer and winter fae are a lot to look at regardless, their wings can be a little on the tamer side, but they look more how you’d expect wings to look, they’re big and they’re flowy, typically burdened with the flowers that grow on them, june’s wings are big and bold in a way a butterfly’s wings are, a mixture of orange and brown but they don’t have flowers on them. The most notable thing for june is that the flowers for him grow around his eyes, little petals that shed, when they feel like it.

Jules.

OH yeah.  

So, basing off of all the headcanons I wrote about the summer court just now.

Jules is a little scary looking, in the sense that her skin is more tan and has that golden sheen to it, her hair is pale yellow and has silver in it that’s strong on the eyes, super long and goes down her back, always has to be pulled up in some kind of do. Her eyes, are the same color as her hair, that pale yellow with silver flecks in it, almost impossible to look at for too long. Her wings are just as bold as june’s big and because of her frame they tend to overtake her a lot, they’re orange and green, much brighter than his and the flowers that flowers that grow in her hair often help her to tie it up and arrange it. She's got more of the lithe frame that more summer fae have and both her wrists and the bones across her her clavicle are adorned by flower petals that grow and bloom, and annoy her on a constant basis. Summer royal court are always high and regal looking and jules is no exception, her brother holds some of the more wilder aspects of summer, where she holds the shine and beauty of it.  

BOY OH BOY THE WINTER COURT.

Here we go lads.

So yeah, okay okay okay it’s so easy to say that the winter court look dead, but they DONT, in fact they are direct foils to their summer couterparts, stll as hauntingly beautiful, in the way that countries that have more snow than summer are still so beautiful even in their cold and life still exists. Still, the conditions are harsher and the fae here show it as such. While sumemr court fae might shine some form of golden, bright or yellow, in reverance for their sun, winter court migth shine the colder, darker colors of night, they can be variations of crystal colors, midnight blues and even whites and blacks. Their wings are smaller but they’re strong, they have to be thick to last winter and cold but they don’t need to fly about much so they’re relatively useless in the way autumn wings are. I also think they have simpler, cleaner cut looks, and drape themselves in garment to stay warm when need be, but they’re quite used to the cold. Summer court probably has lighter clothing, or – none if they want, more flowy, extravagance in their hair and wings.

Noori.

but her skin is midnight blue, like cobalt, like the night sky and it shines a diamond glitter when the moonlight hits her, she’s probably also very cold to the touch I would assume. It can either be cold that its burning or cold that its soothing to a burn it depends on who she feels. her eyes are a crystal white and coupled with how dark she is, its quite the contrast, as there’s nothing in them no flecks, no specks, just white. her hair is white and a pale pink, and the most noticeable feature is the crystals protruding from beneath her eyes, almost like frozen tears, like they started as lashes and blossomed into more taking over her cheeks and going across her nose. the crystals are a mixture of blue, green, white and purple and they glow with every emotion. I think the one thing about the winter court is that depending on where you live and how you get your spoils your frame is either really lean or very built to last the winters, noori is one whose frame is a bit smaller. Her wings are just like her hair, white, but they hang pretty low as well, and are littered with the same crystals the cover underneath her eyes. They are a bit bigger than her frame, so they hang because her body cannot support them as well.

Kihyun.

Like brother like sister, they're not related but you know. kihyun’s most striking thing is definitely his wings. They're not large but they protrude out in the way spikes are, they’re black and bright blue and they make a statement. Despite his smaller frame, his wings make up most of his height and his frame. I think his skin is pretty fair, he’s not pale or anything but he’s got rather noticeable flecks of black all over his body, they look like freckles almost or kind of like charcoal bits. His eyes are black. That's all. And his hair is a lot shorter, it’s in an undercut style and is pale blue, the color of his wings. The most noticeable thing about him would be the wings honestly. In the same way that his wings protrude out like spikes, the freckles on his skin have tendency to spike out, almost like porcupine, but they’re harder, tough like cave crystals, and they hurt like fuck if they stab, and they hurt like hell if he snaps or pulls them out.  

Daniel.  

Danny boy.

So daniel is quite interesting, he was previously a member of the winter court and a feared member. He is well built, but more on the leaner side than some of the guard. Basically, he’s fit but he’s got the bulk in his arms to land the blows, the speed to move faster than other court guards might expect of a winter guard fae. He's taller, and his wings aren’t as extravagant, they’re dark blue, almost a deep green and they’re thick like wood, without much to show for the decoration inside. They extend more horizontal, than they extend vertically and he tends to fold them in to his back more often than not. Daniel's not as fair, he’s got much more noticeable tinges of blue in his veins, enough that his skin can sometimes take on that sheen, and his eyes do the same, they’re deep blue, almost black but not quite. For him, the icicles protrude from his elbows and his calves, main reasons why he’s such a feared member of the guard, he would sneak up and strike with a quickness before the enemy could realize he had weapons attached to his body. These icicles protrude from the ends of deep blue tattoos that ride up his arms to the tips of his shoulders.  

Ahyeon.

Lets start with this beauty right here.

Ahyeon! God I know the most piercing thing about ahyeon is her wings. I want them to be big and imposing, I want her unable to hide them, I want people to see them and fear that its her. Im kidding, but her position as well as kihyun’s means they need to hold their ground wherever they go and that when people see them, they know its them. Anyway ahyeon’s wings are white with black wires in between them and the pattern is noticeably commented upon. They're quite strong but they’re also quite heavy for her. Ahyeon's hair typically stays short, at her shoulders but the wires that thread through her wings also thread around the back of her head and around the back of her neck so they make it seem as if she’s got more hair than she does. Ahyeon's fair skinned, but her eyes follow the same swirl pattern as her wings, it can be a bit off-putting. The main point is that they’re white but the iris is the black swirl instead of the darker circle of a pupil. Because of the heaviness of her wings, they tend to fall low, almost drooping unless she needs them to stand proud. Sometimes, more often than not, those same wires will collect ice on them, and in the snowier seasons for the winter court they’ll hang around her wings like icicles or like she’s covered in snow. Closer inspection would reveal those thorn like wires cover around her body.

[harryhoney-bee]

Part 2 of Sunkissed

The continuation to surfer!H and single mom!reader

Warnings: Sexual content, a bit of domination, nothing too heavy

Word count: 10k

Thanks again to my bestie Sarah for beta reading it!!

Read part 1 here, or read on wattpad

The car ride to her place was exciting at least..

Harry was driving as fast as the speed limit allowed, his hand never left her thigh, constantly squeezing it. (Y/n)thought he couldn't get hotter, but then she saw his drivin, Something about the way he would hold the stare wheel made her feel on fire.

When they finally got to her neighborhood Harry was a bit too impatient, parking the car in front of her neighbor’s house.

"Fuck love, you feel so good,” he moaned in her ear, while she was trying to find the key of the house, hidden somewhere in her purse. "You have no idea the things I'm gonna do with you."

(Y/n) loved her son very much, but she was so fucking happy he was with his aunt right now.

"Who told you were the one doing anything?" she teased, looking back and finding those green eyes filled with lust.

When she finally opened the door, Harry was quick to turn her around, putting her legs around his own hips, and pressed her back into the closest wall, closing the door with his foot.

"I know you are a bossy little thing, but now tonight." His lips sucking on her neck, the tongue was caressing the skin. "And damn, your ass looks so good in this dress–"

Before he could finish, one of (Y/n)'s hands went all the way to his lower belly, feeling the wet spot caused by pre-cum. "Let's see about that, alright Mr. Styles?" She heard a moan leaving his mouth when she applied pressure on the growing shaft. “But hey, don't suck too hard, I don't wanna walk around having a hickey.”

"Ok, no hickeys," His voice was raspy, his breath going directly to her jawline. “But I will ruin you, angel.” He kissed her like she hadn't been kissed in years, that kiss had the promise of a long and good night.

Their lips were glued to each other, feeling the softness, and the taste of the shared drink long forgotten.

His hips were grinding shamelessly against her center, his hand holding into the love handles under the dress.

"Where is your room? Or do you prefer here on the couch?" he asked, grabbing her behind.

"No no, let's go to my room, it's the last one in the hallway." She wouldn't do anything in the living room knowing Cauã would be there tomorrow.

Harry was still holding the woman against his body when they got to her bedroom, it was very... yellow. He didn't have much time to think about it, feeling her pretty lips marking him slightly, he hoped the lipsticks would stain on his skin for a long time.

He gently laid her on the bed, taking his shirt off in the process, her eyes met his inked body.

(Y/n)'s nails met Harry's tattooed chest. "I never realized you had so many tattoos, these two birds are cute," She scratched his body until she got into his hips, on his fern tattoo. "But I like those better."

Her hands went to his pants, undoing the zipper, Harry hushedly taking them off, leaving the man in only a black boxer brief.

She was ready to take him out when Harry stopped her.

"No, Petal." He was on his knees, pushing her down to lay on her back. "Did you genuinely think I wouldn't get a taste of you?" he asked, petting her cheek.

She was ready to fight back when Harry intervened, putting his finger on her lips.

"Shh, don't wanna hear anything coming from your mouth, already talked an awful lot tonight."

He lifted her dress, resting the fabric on her navel, she was wearing black underwear, her wetness was already visible. He opened her thighs, sliding the finger up and down the inside of the soft skin.

"You were terribly sassy for someone who is this wet over a few kisses," he hooked his finger on the black underwear, bringing it to the side. "Such a pretty little pussy, can't wait to taste it."

"Would you let me taste it? Tell me."

The girl was already putty in his hand, and she hated it, but she couldn't fight the control, it was already his.

"Yes, yes! Please,” begged the girl, closing her thighs to make some friction.

He only made her thighs open up more, his cold rings on the meaty flesh. "Oh, look at you saying please, you must really be desperate."

His lips first met the inside of her thighs, kissing the skin tenderly, his hand squeezing (Y/n)'s hips. "Let me take your underwear off."

(Y/n) raised her hips, and Harry took the fabric off, throwing it on the floor. Suddenly she felt exposed, it's been some time since somebody saw that part of her body, a wave of embarrassment went through her.

But the feeling was quickly replaced by pleasure, Harry was slowly sucking on her clit, lapping his tongue in her warm center.

Harry proceeded to put her legs around his shoulder, making his face go even deeper than before. The woman's body tensed up when she felt his two fingers in her opening.

"What's wrong? Don't wanna my fingers? he asked, with surprise gentleness in his tone.

"It's been some time, just go slow, please" whispered the woman, grinding her hips, but his big hands clutched her, making her stay still.

"Ok love, gonna go slow." His mouth went back to (Y/n)'s pussy, with only one finger making its way into her.

(Y/n) could only feel pleasure. Sweet moans leaving her mouth with every lick on her clit, his finger was pumping that sweet spot inside her.

When he felt she was lubricated enough, he put a second finger, sliding it inside gently. She could feel a warm feeling growing, her high was close.

She threw her head into the pillow, one hand clutching the duvet and the other one pulling Harry's hair, this time she heard one moan, and it wasn't from her.

She could feel Harry grinding his hips against the bed, one of his hands making its way up her body, placing it in her lower rib cage.

(Y/n) couldn't stay still now, as much as Harry's hands tried to hold her. The pleasure was becoming too much.

"Gonna cum love?" he asked, grinning up at her, his finger never stopping the movement.

"Yes, H, I-I need it." Her eyes were closed, and there was a faint red in her cheeks, Harry then decided to be merciful and let the poor woman cum, curling his finger in her sweet spot.

It was very easy to know the places (Y/n) was the most sensitive, she was very responsive over everything Harry did so far.

Good how much he loved those little moans, they would go directly to his cock, making it harder and bigger each second.

"Harry don’t stop that, oh–" her voice seized when her wave of orgasm came, washing Harry's mouth away with her cum. (Y/n)'s back arched in such a beautiful way, her walls tightening against his long finger.

He helped (Y/n) ride out her high, slowly pumping his finger in and out until she whispered it was too much.

As she was slowly getting her consciousness back, he cleaned his fingers with his mouth, drying them on the duvet.

(Y/n) was still feeling the cozy feeling that came with an orgasm when cold hands met hers, making her own hands relax and let it go off the duvet she once held for dear life.

"Gonna hurt yourself if you keep on pulling it like that, angel," said Harry, his face wet with her release and his boxers doing little to nothing to hide the growing erection. "Feeling ok? Want some water?"

"No, I just want you," panted (Y/n). She truly enjoyed how caring Harry was to her, but she wanted, needed more of him.

“Alright, love, whenever you want,” beamed Harry, getting off the bed and picking up his pants, a silver pack in his hands, in a small movement he took off his boxer, his cock now free from the piece of clothing, was standing up above his naval.

“Staring much darling? That does wonders to my ego," he brought the pack to his lips, opening the condom and putting it on his length. “Turn around, hands on the headboard.”

His demanding voice tone was making (Y/n) wetter than she was, she could feel the blush in her cheeks as she did what he ordered, on her knees, hands holding on tightly to the wooden material.

The man was back in bed, his ringed hands taking her dress off completely, leaving (Y/n) completely nude. As he got closer (Y/n) could feel the rubbered head touching her, her body tensed with the sudden contact.

Harry was teasing her with his cock, running it up and down her cunt. “I could swear you would find it hard to handle with all that brat attitude, but look at you, did everything I told you without a peep," he murmured in her ear, “Do you get off by me telling you what to do?”

“Yes, I do, please fuck me.” A keening voice fell from the girl's lips as Harry’s cock slowly sank into her, hands wrapping around her waist and the other met her tit, pinching the rigid nipple. “Harry it feels so good, need you deeper.”

“Deeper? Like that?” In seconds his whole shaft was inside of her, her soft walls could feel every vein. He was bigger than every guy she had been before, so the soreness didn’t surprise her. “Lean forward (Y/n), let me properly fuck you.”

(Y/n)’s knees went back and her arms distanced from each other to gain more balance as Harry practically mounted her from behind, his cooed moans telling that he was enjoying it as much as she was.

His thrusts were fast and hard, the headboard leg hitting the wall with every push, thank god (Y/n) didn't need to worry about the neighbors hearing anything since the houses had a pretty big space between one another.

That also meant they could moan as much as they liked.

"Like that, Angel? Do I make you feel good?" Harry asked amusedly, his knees making their way into the inside of her thighs to make her stay still.

"But you need something more.” He could hear the shallow breaths coming out of her mouth. "Want me to play with your clit?"

"Y-yes, please,” crooned the girl, holding his arm on the headboard for more steadiness, his other arm left her waist, going to her center, her body wincing at the sudden sensation. “More to the side, Harry.” Her small hand guided him to the most sensitive part of her nub.

His hips were rocking into her, moans leavening his mouth as his hand was rapidly working on her clit, getting her closer and closer to her second release of the night while he built his way into his own.

“Gonna cum for me, love? I can feel you squeezing around my cock," he cooed, swirling his hand on her center.

“I’m so close, H.” (Y/n) tossed her head back, laying it against Harry's shoulder, the pit on her tummy getting more intense at every thrust Harry would give her.

“Go on then baby.” Harry’s clumsy thrust indicated he wasn't too far from his apex as well. “Drench me,” he ordered, and for what felt like the tenth time in the night, (Y/n) did what Harry told her.

The bliss washed over her body, her back arched at the same moments her nails pierce Harry's skin, sweet whimpers leaving her mouth as she felt her body going limp as she lost the strength on her knees. Harry held her closer to his body, taking his hand off her wet pussy, placing it on her waist again, slamming his cock into her with more urgency.

“Give it to me, Harry,” said the girl in a tired voice, coaxing Harry to his release “‘know you’re ready, your cock is twitching already.”

“Fuck (Y/n)," he hummed in a deep tone, speeding up his pace, slamming into her pussy while he held her throat softly, his finger leaving marks on her hips. ‘Gonna cum, fuck.”

With two more thrusts Harry high, emptying spurt of spurt inside the sweet girl right in front of him, his hand left her throat as he gave the last push into the girl's pussy. His whole body went numb, holding the girl as they laid on the bed.

They stayed still for a few minutes, trying to regain their breath and sense back to their body

"You good, H?" whispered (Y/n) in a low voice, trying to keep her breath steady. "Do you need some water?"

Harry laughed, trying to get comfortable on the messy bed. The pillows were on the floor along with his clothes.

"Guess I didn't fuck you right if you are still able to give sassy remarks." he answered, standing up, grabbing his pants.

"Are you leaving already?" asked the girl concerned, she knew it was only a one night stand, but not even a bit of cuddle? No nothing? He said he liked being pampered himself!

"No sweetheart, unless you want me to," he picked up his shirt and gave it to her. "Here, put this one, yeah?"

The girl accepted, feeling better having her nudity only to herself again.

"Where is the bathroom, love? Is this door? asked Harry standing in front of the door beside her mirror. "Got a bit of a situation here," asked Harry, referring to the used condom still attached to his dick.

"Yes, feel free to use it" (Y/n) was trying not to make eye contact while he was like that. "Just be fast, please, I really need to pee."

Harry just chuckled. "You are pretty, (Y/n)." That was the last thing he said when the bathroom door closed.

Yeah, getting a house with a bathroom to herself was a good choice, she thought while she was getting her dress from the floor, putting them on her dresser. She also picked all the pillows that were thrown on the ground at some moment of their night.

Fuck, she really had sex with her son's teacher. She was totally gonna get the mother of the year award.

"You can go now, love. I'm going to the kitchen to get some water, gonna bring you something to eat too," said Harry, walking out of the bathroom already wearing his pants, or trousers as he used to say. "Where do you keep your glasses?"

"It's on the bottom shelf, right by the side of the fridge."

"Alright, you wait here looking pretty," he teased with a grin, leaving the room.

She went to the bathroom and relieved herself, when (Y/n) was done she cuddled up to the bed, feeling her cheeks warm by the thought of what happened minutes ago. It had been such a long time she wasn't fucked like that, it was a miracle she could still use her legs.

She didn't walk much but the little amount she did was enough to show how sore she was in between her thighs

Harry came back to the room, holding one glass of water in one hand and an apple in the other. “Ok here it is, eat it up, I know how tired you must be," he winked, giving her the apple and placing the glass on the nightstand, handing her the red fruit, but she declined.

“Thank you, but I don't really like fruits.”

“What? How can you not like them? They are sweet and-” He stopped as if he was thinking of what other good qualities they could have. “Colorful, yeah, they all have different colors, you are an artist, you should like ‘em.”

“Well, they are pretty, but I hate the texture.” She answered yawning while Harry sat next to her on the comfy bed.

He gave one bite on the red apple, offering it to her a second time, putting it right in front of her mouth. “Just a few bits, it has fructose, it’s good for you.”

She opened her mouth, biting it while he was feeding her. After she was done both of them laid together, one next to each other.

“This was just a one time thing, ok?” (Y/n) started saying while she looked at the roof. “This is gonna become too messy, whatever this is, and I just can’t ha-”

Harry placed a hand on her belly, making her stay quiet. “Shh love, it’s late, yeah? We can talk about this some other time, go to sleep, you're barely keeping your eyes open.

“Ok, you can stay and take a nap, but you need to be gone in the morning, understood? My sister is dropping Cauã off at noon.”

“Yeah yeah, know that. I've already set an alarm for 8 pm, now go to sleep.” His hand didn’t leave her body as he said his last words before falling asleep “Jesus you do talk quite a lot.”

(Y/n) woke up hearing a very know sentence, one that made her heart and warm and her happy, but for right now it only made her wish she could disappear,

“Mom!- Cauã screamed from far away, probably the kitchen. (Y/n) woke up abruptly, trying to comprehend what was happening, when she looked at the man lying next to her she understood she was fucked.

She ran to the door, promptly locking it. She didn’t need her son to see his surf teacher snoring on his mother’s bed.

What time was it and why the fuck Harry was still there? She needed to focus on one thing at a time before the boy came knocking into her room.

Clothes, she- they needed clothes.

(Y/n) took Harry’s shirt, throwing it at him while she went to her dresser looking for a decent summer dress “Harry, wake up, damn! Come on, Cauã is here.” She screamed at Harry, hoping the two people standing not too far away wouldn't listen to it.

“Why are you screaming an- oh, you are pretty much naked," he said groggily, a boyish smile on his face seeing the girl’s ass while she was with her back turned to him.

“Can you put clothes on? He is here, hurry!”

“Ok, ok!” he mumbled grumpily, “I see you’re back to being your old bossy little self.”

She was gonna kill Harry, she was certain of it. With a pink dress covering her body, (Y/n) went open the door, but before she turned around. “Cover yourself and do not leave the room until I tell you, understood?”

“You say to me to cover myself as if you weren’t the one getting me naked last night,” he argues, standing up and putting the shirt on. “And I have my pants on, you were the one wearing my shirt, th-”

Before Harry could finish (Y/n) left the room, letting him wait for her ‘call’. Who did she think he was? Some kinda obedient pet who would do whatever she told him to? Harry asked himself while sitting on the bed, waiting.

(Y/n) could hear Jesse’s voice as she made her way to the kitchen, trying to put on the face of ‘nothing happened, 'no, of course, I didn’t spend one night with a man I’ve known for less than a couple of weeks.’

“(Y/n)? Are you here?” Asks Jesse, standing with Cauã in the kitchen. “The door was unlocked, did you let it like that for the whole night?”

“Oh hi, guys! Sorry, I had a bit of a hard night.” laughed (Y/n) nervously while hugging Cauã and greeting her sister. “Must have forgotten to lock the door.”

“Did you guys have a good night? Wanna go out for lunch?” question the girl, ignoring the conspiratory looks her big sister was giving her.

“Lunch mom? It’s 8 am, did you not see the clock?” asked Cauã.

Oh damn, maybe this whole situation wasn’t completely Harry’s fault.

“I-I forgot to check the clock too, I just woke up.” She was not looking at any of their faces, only staring at the wall behind them where Harry had kissed her. They would know she was lying. “But what happened for you guys to be here so early? I thought you said you would be here near noon?” asked (Y/n) to her sister.

“My gig was advanced, I have to leave in 1 hour to San Francisco.” The older sister explained. “Cauã, baby, why don’t you go watch some tv while me and your mom talk for a bit?

“No! Stay here,” (Y/n) meddled. He couldn’t go down the hall.

“Why (Y/n), did you forget something in your bedroom too?” muttered Jesse to (Y/n) in a way Cauã couldn’t hear.

Cauã.

Cauã who wasn’t in the kitchen anymore.

“Harry! Hey!” The sisters overheard Cauã from (Y/n)'s room.

“Harry? Harry as in the surf teacher? What did you do last night?!” Jesse asked, looking at her sister waiting for a response that didn’t come. “No fucking way.” She laughed.

“He was there, ok? We had a nice time and we decided to come here, but he was supposed to leave before you could see him. Don’t judge me ok, I know it’s wrong-”

“Judge you? Honey, I’m happy for you! Do you like him?! Let me introduce myself to him.”

“What? No!”

And just like that, the sisters were heading in the direction of Harry and Cauã’s, the younger chasing the older one.

“Mom, Did you know Harry has a dog named Kiara?" Cauã asked first thing when he saw the woman getting into the room. Harry seemed very unbothered by the whole circumstances, sitting on the edge of the bed with a smile on his face. “She is a golden retriever, isn’t that nice?

“So nice, right Cauã?.” Jesse answered for (Y/n), offering her hand to Harry. “Hi! I’m Jesse.”

Harry grabbed her hand, shaking it. “I’m Harry! I suppose you are the sister? (Y/n) talked about you.”

“Oh, so we have something in common because (Y/n) also talked about you.”

Harry turned his head to (Y/n), who looked mortified and angry at the same time, still standing on the door. “You talk to people about me, sweetheart? That’s so nice of you.” A challenging grin appeared on his face, daring her to be rude to him in front of Cauã, who was sitting on the bed not understanding a thing.

“Mom, I still don’t get it, why is Harry here?”

“He’s my- friend!” she explained, lying to her son, something that she’s used to doing since motherhood came around. “And friends like to spend time together, like you and Clara!”

“But what did you two do?”

“We played games,” (Y/n) answered impulsively with the first thing that she thought.

“What kind of games?”

“Video Games.”

“Mom, we don’t have a videogame," said the boy, looking at her like she was crazy. She could see her sister and Harry trying hard not to laugh.

“Yeah, but Harry has it, but he already put it back in his car because he needs to go, right Harry?” She challenged him back with her stare.

“Yes, sorry Cauã, I need to go back home to take care of Kiara.” He petted Cauã’s head. "but we’ll see each other late today at the lessons”

He left the boy on the bed, standing in front of Jesse.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Jesse, I’m looking forward to gossiping about (Y/n) with you the same way she does with us.” Joked Harry, going in (Y/n)'s direction, kissing her on the cheek. “And it was a pleasure to play with you, angel. Maybe next time we can play Daredevil.”

“Bye, Harry,” (Y/n)'s cheeks flushed with warmth, letting him go alone, he already knew the way to the door anyway. Her sister and son also said their goodbyes.

“You are going to tell me everything that happened when I get back.” (Y/n) was in the middle of protesting when Jesse cut her off. “No, this is non negotiable.” Jesse turned to Cauã. “Come give me a hug bug, I also have to go.”

“Bye Auntie, I’ll miss you.’ mumbled the boy against Jesse’s shirt.

“I’ll miss you too honey, keep an eye on your mom, ok?”

Cauã nodded, kissing her cheek and going to his room.

“I love you, thank you for taking him for the night.” sighed (Y/n), putting Jesse in an embrace.

“You should really thank me, for the scratches on his arm. The night was really good.” Jesse laughed. “Bye, I have to go, and I love you too little sis, don’t do anything too wild until I get back.”

(Y/n) followed Jesse to the door. “Have a safe trip and don’t forget to call me. Hope you have a good job.”

“Okie! Don’t have to worry about me, you know it.” She blew (Y/n) a kiss and with that, she drove down the street, in the direction of San Francisco.

She also noticed Harry’s car wasn’t in front of the neighbor’s house anymore, before she could think more about the man, she received a message.

Unknown number: Hi sweetheart ;) It’s Harry btw.

(Y/n)’s phone: How did you get my number?!!

Unknown number: You had to inform it on the form when you signed up for Cauã’s lessons.

(Y/n)’s phone: Isn’t that a crime? Stealing private information for your own purpose?

Harry surf: Hm… Nah, don’t think so.

(Y/n)’s phone: Alright, what do you want??

Harry surf: I’m pretty sure I left my right sock on your bedroom somewhere, bring it to me at the lessons later, please :D

(Y/n)’s phone: Really, Harry? I won’t show up there with a sock

Harry surf: Well, if you don't THAT will be considered a crime, you’re stealing something of mine.

(Y/n)’s phone: YOU were the one who left it at MY house.

Harry surf: Feisty today, aren't we? What are you saying next? That I robbed your house?

(Y/n)’s: Bye Harry

Harry surf: Don't forget my sock. xoxo

Stupid Harry, (Y/n) thought while bending next to the bed, looking for the stupid sock.

“Hello Miss (Y/L/n) You are here earlier!" said Harry with a grin on his face.

His hair and surf suit were already wet, insicading he was surfing before class, from the blush on his cheek he was there for a long time, even before 13 pm even

“Hey little man, how are you? Excited for waves today?” he asked Cauã who was bouncing on his own feet.

“Yes Harry! I ate spinach yesterday at my auntie’s, she said it would help today.”

“She was right! every green food helps us get stronger, that’s how hulk gets his muscles.” Harry showed off his muscles to Cauã.

“Didn't he get his power because of gamma radiation?” asked Cauã, her proud little nerd.

(Y/n) looked up to Harry with an amused expression seeing his face falling after having his words questioned.

“Yeah, that and broccoli.” mumbled Harry to the boy while (Y/n) laughed.

Cauã decided to go play on the sand near to the sea, when he was far (Y/n) opened her bag, taking off Harry's sock and giving it to him so he could put it into his own bag.

“I thought you weren't bringing it?” Mocked Harry.

“I was thinking about burning it, but I didn't want the smell to be in the house.”

She actually thought about it, but she didn't want to explain to the neighbours why she was starting a bonfire at 9 am.

“You look pretty today,” Began Harry. “I hear orgasmns does wonders to the skin.”

Cheeky jerk.

“Well, I wouldn't know.” shuddered (Y/n).

“Of course you wouldn't be an angel.” agreed with him ironically. “Were you happy with my message today? How did you save my number? ‘Best I ever had’?

“Bold of you to assume I saved it in the first place.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, alright,” laughed him, “So you know, I put a little warmelon on your name.”

She found it funny, but that couldn't begin to happen, or else it would become too messy too fast. She had to remind that he was the surf teacher, and he was just gonna be that.

“But don’t send more messages, okay? Cauã plays on my pho-” She said kindly not wanting to hurt him.

“Don’t worry about it darling.” muttered Harry, not looking at her.

When she was about to respond Mrs Mila arrived, needing Harry’s help to carry her surfboard. (Y/n) and Harry didn’t have any more conversations, just some bickering before the lessons started.

It was a Tuesday and (Y/n) was feeling shitty.

When she woke up to go to work she instantly felt sick, running to her bathroom and emptying her stomach, which was already pretty much empty since she still hadn’t had her breakfast.

When she felt it was safe to leave the bedroom she decided to go to bed again, taking her phone texting her students, saying the class total was canceled because she wasn’t feeling well.

If Jesse wasn’t in San Fransisco she could go to the studio with (Y/n) and give her a hand there, but unfortunately, she was still there, so it was only her and Cauã today.

(Y/n) decided to go to the couch and turn the tv on while Cauã was in his room, playing with her phone. She placed a heating pad on her lower stomach and took her temperature before catching up on a TV show she hadn't watched in a week..

Even Cauã decided to leave him room, giving (Y/n)’s phone back and sitting on the rug in front of the couch, playing with his legos.

When (Y/n) was almost done with season 3, she heard the bell rang and immediately frowned, no one was supposed to be here today, Jesse wasn't even in town!

She put the heating pad in some place on the couch thighed the robe against her body as she slowly made her way to the door. The bell rang a second time, as if the person behind it was impatient she opened the door.

"Hello wh–."

"(Y/n), are you ok?!" asked a very worried Harry.

Harry.

At the door.

At her door.

"I– Yes, I am, what are you doing here?" asked (Y/n), letting him in. "Did something happen?"

"You sent me a message telling me you were feeling bad, almost going to the hospital!" said Harry, he sure looked like he left his house in a hurry, he was wearing sweatpants and a very old t-shirt, was he wearing unmatched sh–.

"(Y/n) damn it! Can you answer me?" The man in front of her looked like he was about to have a stroke, and she was as well, what was happening?

"Ok, first thing: don't scream, my head is killing me, second, I did not send you any messages, I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Look at this then," he pulled his phone out of his pocket, showing the big message she sent saying everything Harry informed.

Her mind went straight to the only person that could have done that. Turning around, looking at the boy still sitting on the rug, face screaming 'guilty'.

"Cauã, why did you text, Harry? You know lying is bad." She asked sternly, he had no reason to do that!

She went in his direction, kneeling in front of him, trying to be the same height as him. Harry sat on the couch just listening to the conversation, trying to calm his nerves down.

"I didn't lie, mom! You told me to call auntie if we ever have an emergency, but she's not here so I thought I would text Harry instead. I saw the contact with his name the other day when I was playing Roblox," The boy was rambling, talking so fast she almost couldn't understand. "Don't be mad, mommy."

"Cauã, baby, I'm fine, I'm just a little sick, I won't go to the hospital, you don't need to worry about me," (Y/n) wrapped her arms around her son, hugging him. "You are the kid here, I am the one who takes care of you."

"How did you even get all the words right, buddy?" asked Harry, looking more tranquil now that he realized she wasn't dead.

"I used the voice speech," explained the boy, not looking at Harry's face. " I didn’t know how to spell hospital and infection."

(Y/n) picked him up, sitting him on her lap as they sat on the couch next to Harry.

"Infection? Baby, mommy is only with some cramps and a bit of fever! It's only food poisoning at its worst." The woman clarified, trying to make the boy understand this wasn't a life and death situation.

"Cramps? Like the ones you get sometimes?" asked the boy, meaning the painful period cramps (Y/n) would get sometimes.

"Yeah, but not quite." Laughed (Y/n) brushing the hair on his forehead with her fingers, feeling more relaxed now. She should've had explained the situation to him instead of just saying ‘mom is sick so we are staying home today’

"Why don't you go play in your room, Cauã? I can take care of your mom now" said Harry sweetly, (Y/n) only gave him a side eye.

"Oh, can I play with your videogame Harry? Did you bring it?" Peep the boy with excitement

Not the video game again, (Y/n) thought.

"Sorry little man,I was too busy driving here like a crazy man," joked Harry tickling Cauã's side "But we can set up a playdate, ok? Then you can play all the games you want."

"Ok, Harry, I'll wait for it," said the boy, a bit disappointed, heading to his room.

"A video game playdate?" asked (Y/n), raising one eyebrow. "Really?"

"I wouldn't mind having a 'playdate' with you," he teased, putting his hand on her forehead "Damn, you really are hot, when did you last take your temperature?"

"Earlier today– What are you doing?" (Y/n) asked coldly.

"Looking for a thermometer," hummed him, opening the white box with a little cross on it where she kept all of the medicine. "Found it! Open your mouth, angel."

"What? No? Why are you doing that? I'm ok, I already told you that."

"I say this in the kindest way possible, but you look horrible," answered the man, sticking the thermometer in her mouth, in a very unkind way.

"He, I don–" Before (Y/n) could finish his finger was in her lips.

"Shh, gotta be quiet." muttered Harry

She thought about fighting back, but when a wave of pain went through her body she decided to stay calm. She could kick him out after she got her temperature.

"Just let me take off my shoes."

(Y/n)'s eyes wilded, was he planning to stay?

The thermometer's noise went off, indicating it was done. She had a fever of 102. Great, just great, it was worse than before.

"How bad is it?" asked Harry, taking the object from her, looking at the small numbers

"Not that bad, I'm gonna put an ice pack on my head and take some medicine, I'll be fine tomorrow, so you can go."

"Go? Go home? I already drove all the way here, plus, I don't think it's safe to leave you alone. And before you can say anything, what if you get worse? What if you end up needing to go see a doctor?" Questioned Harry putting the thermometer away.

(Y/n) just cuddled up more to the couch, bringing the fluff blanket closer to her. She just wanted to rest for a bit, having Harry there wasn't that bad. She could take a nap for a few hours and wait until her fever came down.

"Alright, but only for Cauã, don't want him feeling scared," mumbled (Y/n), already drifting to sleep.

"Yeah, only for Cauã," Agreed Harry with a small package of medicine in his hand, "Put your heating pad back on your tummy and take these pills, they are supposed to help."

(Y/n) hugged the pad into her lower stomach, taking the pills with the water bottle Harry gave to her.

After (Y/n) closed her eyes Harry decided to organize the house a bit, putting plates and toys away, he noticed a lot of her art stuff was on the kitchen table.

Some papers were scrawled over as if she gave up on the drawing, but the ones who weren't, were pretty and colorful, she really was a talented little artist.

He had the chance to peek at some sketches she was doing when they were at the beach, but seeing them from close was way better.

Harry decided not to move any of her pencils and paints, concentrating on the kitchen with some plates waiting to be cleaned.

Their whole house had a lot of colorful decorations and plants. Very different from Harry's house, which was very simple, only having furniture and white walls.

(Y/n) could bring color to his life, they could bring color to his life.

Harry didn't consider himself lonely, he had made a lot of new friends once he got into UCLA, and kept the closest relationship he could to his family, considering the distance.

But surely moving from London all the way to sunny California made a real change in his social life. It wasn't necessarily bad, Harry had more time to focus on his surfing, something that he couldn't do in England.

The championship was almost there, Harry needed to use all of his time to practice and exercise, and still, here he was, taking care of his mom's student who he also had sex with days ago.

Well, she was more than a mom's student, he was very aware of that but (Y/n) was always so persistent to build a barrier between them.

Harry knew by what she told him at the bar that her past relationships didn't end up well, but if she could give him a chance he could show that he would never treat her or Cauã badly.

It was weird to Harry, to care for someone he knew for a short amount of time, but the way she talked about art and surfing to Cauã at the beach made Harry feel warm inside.

She had a beautiful way of seeing life and a more beautiful way to express what she saw in beautiful drawings.

Maybe people do fall in love with people's passions.

(Y/n) woke up after a long nap feeling a little better. She wasn’t feeling that hot sensation of fever in her face or the discomfort in her stomach.

When she opened her eyes the luminosity didn’t ache in her head anymore, so she could focus on the scene in front of her.

Harry and Cauã playing lego on the floor, talking in low tones as if to not wake her up, Cauã’s glasses were too big for his face, falling every time he looked down, she needed to get him new ones. She was a bit surprised Harry was still there.

“Mom! You are awake.” Screamed the boy once he saw his mom’s eyes open, he suddenly jumped on (Y/n), giving her a big hug.

“Hey man, you gotta be careful with her, ok?” laughed Harry, picking the boy from (Y/n)’s lap , placing him on her side of the couch, forgetting the legos on the floor.

(Y/n) thanked him for that, Cauã was growing, getting heavier and taller every day, but he acted like he was still small, well, he will certainly always be her baby, anyways.

“Sorry, mom.” Apologized to the boy. “Are you feeling better?”

She sat up upright, making more room for Cauã and Harry to be comfortable on the couch. “I am Love. My body is still a little sore but I’ll be brand new tomorrow.”

“I took your temperature again while you were sleeping, you got down to 101, so it’s getting down.” Answered Harry, smiling sweetly at her. “I also made mac and cheese! Cauã said you two liked it. The table is already set so come on.”

Damn, he was being nice, too nice. “Yeah, mac and cheese is our favorite.” Answered (Y/n), taking off the blanket from her body, pushing her body out of the couch, failing miserably. She was still feeling weak.

Harry made his way to (Y/n), grabbing her arms gently lifting her off the furniture.” Once you eat you’ll be even better.” comforted him, helping her sit on the table.

“I could do that myself," said the girl grumpily, but accepted the help.

“Yeah, right,” Harry said ironically, bringing three plates of food to the table, one for each person, his head going in Cauã's direction. “Alright little man, I need you to tell me what you think of it, alright? Your opinion is very valid to me.” Joked him to Cauã, who smiled devouring the food, (Y/n) and Harry did the same.

“I think it’s good, but it needs more salt," said the boy, a wise look on his face, as if he was judging plates in Masterchef.

“More salt? Of course not! It has the right amount,” (Y/n) protested before Harry could say anything. “You can’t eat too much salt, or else you're gonna have high blood pressure before you turn ten.”

“Sweetheart, please. This is a safe zone where everybody can express their true feelings, right?” The grin on his face indicated the true feelings he was talking about weren’t about the mac and cheese.

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes, continuing to eat her food until suddenly Cauã stopped, pointing at Harry's arm, a confused look on his face.

“Harry! Is that a naked lady on your arm?” He was sitting on his knees on the chair, trying to get a closer look.

Harry chuckles, putting his arm below the table so the boy wouldn’t see it. (Y/n) wanted to throw her fork at him. Harry was corrupting her son. Ok, maybe she was being dramatic, Harry was a great person, but no mother wants their children looking at nude figures!

“Well, She is not a lady, she is a mermaid. And she is naked because she is half fish, and fish don’t wear clothes," explained Harry, looking at (Y/n), asking her if his explanation was good enough, she just nodded, going back to her mac and cheese.

But Cauã didn’t do the same, still questioning Harry. “But Ariel is a mermaid and she wears a bikini!”

“Well, Ariel has decency, different from Harry,” (Y/n) remarked, looking at Harry with a mocking face.

“You would be the one to know about my decorum habits, darling," he mocked back.

"Why don't we all get back to eating?" Suggested (Y/n), trying to end the conversation. To her delight they all did it

'Mom, can we go for ice cream in the afternoon?" Pleaded Cauã, looking at her with puppy eyes, she, unfortunately, had to decline.

"Sorry baby, I'm still not feeling 100% good, maybe another day, alright?"

He just nodded sadly.

"I can take him if you want." Harry proposed. "I can bring him back in the evening, what do you think, Cauã?"

The boy's response was to jump off the chair and hug Harry, who hugged the boy back.

"Thank you, Harry! We can go to the one near the park, mommy's ex-boyfriend used to take me there!"

No, no, no.

This couldn't happen, that's exactly why (Y/n) didn't want Harry to be with her. Now Cauã would get attached the same way he did with John.

Then she would be left with a broken heart and a disappointed child, just like the other two other times. She wouldn't let Cauã get hurt again, she wouldn't let herself get hurt again.

"Cauã, I said no," said (Y/n), a tone she rarely used with him, which made the two boys turn their heads.

"It's not a bother (Y/n), we're gonna have a nice time together." Argued Harry, not understanding why she was acting like that. She was still a bit grumpy, but now she looked like a man, mad at him.

(Y/n) ignored the man, focusing her attention on her son. "Since you are done you can go play in the yard, go on, mommy needs to talk to Harry alone."

"Are you angry mom?" asked the boy, unhooking his arms that were once around Harry.

"No, it's just grown-up talk, you don't need to worry about that." (Y/n) said with a soft voice now, she didn’t wanna upset the poor boy.

The boy made his way to the door, when they heard the sound that indicated they were alone Harry stood up, taking his and Cauã's plate, putting it on the sink.

"Is there something wrong, (Y/n)? I didn't know taking him out would upset you," said Harry, turning around and facing the girl he was so fond of.

"Well, it does bother me. That's why you shouldn't have come here. This–"She made a movement with her finger pointing at her and him. "–Is becoming too messy, exactly how I said it would."

"Well, it's only messy because you are making it more complicated than it should be." Harry talked back, his voice not so calmed anymore. "It's only an ice cream date, I don't see a problem with it."

"It's not only an ice cream date, Harry. It will start with that, then he will start to invite you to pizza nights,'' she explained, moving to the living room, Harry close behind. "Next thing you will be at his school on career day."

"And I would love to be there, (Y/n), I think I made it very clear by now that I want to be there. And I want to be here," said Harry, anger printed on his face. "I am here after all, right?"

"I didn't ask you to be here, I didn't invite you. Cauã did, and now he is becoming attached to you, and that can't happen."

"Damn (Y/n)! You are not scared of Cauã becoming attached to me, you are scared of you becoming attached to me,” barked Harry

(Y/n) didn't answer him. She just stood quiet, tears slowly coming into her eyes. This conversation shouldn’t even be happening.

"Look, I get that you two went through a lot of shit together, but you shouldn't close yourself because of that,” said Harry more calmly now. "You and Cauã are lovely, and you deserve love."

His hands were making his way into her shoulder, holding softly, he could see her teary eyes

"Not everyone will go away. I'm sure as hell won't," he said, trying to get a response from her.

But from her mouth came out the last response he would want to hear.

"I think you should go." She said, taking his hand off her and taking a step back.

This fight would lead to nowhere, she liked Harry, but this was just too scary, she had too many bad experiences already.

"Wh– No angel, come on," he tried to coax her. "Let's talk about it."

"No, get out, please." Some tears were rolling down her face, sadness came into her body as she watched the way his body went rigid.

Harry looked at her, face with disbelief, he thought about fighting her, but he didn't want to make her upset, if they were to figure out what they were, it wasn't going to be in the state of mind they both are.

Harry did what she asked, picking his shoes, heading to the door. He was going to turn the handle when he abruptly turned to her again, tears already making a home in her cheeks.

"I don't wanna bring any kind of problem for you, so I will fuck off if you really want," he said, looking deeply into her eyes." But I want to know you two better, and if you are open to give me a chance I will show you I'm here to stick around."

He made his way out. "You need to take your medicine in two hours, don't forget it,” mumbled Harry for the last time after closing the door behind him.

(Y/n)'s old past made her stay still as she watched the man leaving. She already had to go through that sight a couple of times, but this time she was different. He was the one wanting her and she was the one telling him to go.

Since the fight with Harry the house was gloomy, (Y/n) had gotten better from her stomach bug in two days, but she still didn’t feel good and Cauã was sad because he missed Harry.

The boy was big enough to acknowledge what a fight was, but not big enough to understand that (Y/n) missed him too, even though she was the one who made him leave.

It’s been four days since the fight and (Y/n) would curse herself at least three times a day for the way she spoke to him, he didn’t deserve that, he never made anything harmful, it was only her stupid fear of getting her heartbroken again.

When she wasn’t at work she would spend some time checking her phone, hoping she would receive any messages from him, but the only one who was texting her was Jesse, asking who had the bad fight with Harry.

Bad, very bad, she would respond.

It was selfish of her to wait for Harry to text her, she was the one who screwed it up in the first place, but whenever she thought about calling him she would try to believe their withdrawal was for the best.

Whether it was for the best or not, she was still feeling shitty, and the anxious boy in front of her wasn’t helping either.

Cauã’s dad was supposed to pick him up to spend a weekend, he got his bag ready and was just waiting for him on the couch bouncing his leg.

But the reality was that his dad wasn’t picking up her calls, it was already 5 pm, 2 hours later than what he was supposed to be here. He probably wouldn't come at all.

I was always like that with him, and she was the one who needed to break the sad news to her son. He shouldn't be having to deal with an absent father who couldn't keep up with his promises.

She sat carefully on Cauã's side, she was gonna be her most delicate self, hugging her arms around him. “Baby, I think he is a bit late and-”

“He’s not coming, right mom?” uttered him, getting closer to his mom. “He never does.”

“Maybe an emergency happened, or he got caught up in his work.” (Y/n) blurbed, trying to come up with some excuse so Cauã won’t think he is the reason

“Or maybe he just doesn’t want to be here,” murmured Cauão with a teary voice. “I was so excited mom.”

(Y/n) hugged the boy closer to her. “I know baby, I’m sorry.” Damn his dad, Cauã had nothing of him in his personality, he was the sweetest soul. “What about we go somewhere? Would that make you feel better?”

The boy cleaned his tears with the inside of his hand. “Can we go to the beach, mom? I feel happy there.”

(Y/n) and Cauã haven’t been at the beach since last week, today was supposed to be lesson day, but they skipped since Cauã’s dad said he would come. Skipping class secretly made (Y/n) feel better, she wasn’t ready to face Harry, but maybe the beach could make both of them feel better.

“We are not spending a lot of time here, ok? Just for a bit,” said (Y/n), gazing at the view beside her, they went to the same one as always: Windansea beach. The weather was warm and the sunset was happening, making the sky orange and yellow. She could paint it if she would have brought her little notebook, the one she hasn’t used much lately anymore.

She set the duvet on the sand while watching Cauã building the sandcastles he loved so much, he seemed a bit better, but still looked hurt.

(Y/n) decided to spend some time on her phone, while she was scrolling through her social media she saw a text that Jesse sent with a link, when she tapped it a picture of Cauã’s dad with a woman appeared.

No way he rejected his weekend with his own kid to spend time with her, (Y/n) couldn't say anything, she wasn't surprised by it. Quickly typing a ‘jerk’ to her sister she closed the phone, her heart beated fast as she did it, because the scene in front of her was one she was not ready to face.

Harry. Harry talking to Cauã.

He was here, of course he would be, this is the beach he always surfed! He was even wearing his normal surf suit.

Cauã was talking to Harry, a smile on his face, the first one she saw from him since the beginning of the afternoon. Harry also seemed happy while speaking to Cauã, he always seemed happy whenever he was with her or the boy.

She realised she missed him, even though they didn’t spend a lot of time together. She wanted to enjoy more nights with him, more days.

“Mom! Look! It’s Harry,” exclaimed Cauã.

Despite the fact that she wanted to talk to him, she still panicked when Cauã held his hand, bringing him to her direction. Harry wasn't feeling that great either, a nervous look on his face, not sure if he should let the boy pull him into (Y/n)’s direction.

“Hi,” Harry simply said.

He looked beautiful, his wet curls on his temples and his eyes a bit red, probably irritated by the salty water, making his green eyes even more noticeable.

“Hi Harry,” she said uncomfortably. “I didn’t expect to meet you here.”

Liar.

He looked into her eyes, smiling softly while caressing Cauã’s hair. “Didn’t expect either, you guys didn’t show up today, though you had given up on surfing.”

“Oh no! Cauã’s dad was supposed to pick him up today, but something unexpected happened," explained (Y/n), hoping he would pick up by her voice that it wasn’t a good subject to talk about while Cauã was here.

She knew he understood when his face quickly changed to a worried one. “That’s bad, huh buddy? I’m sorry.” murmured Harry. “Sometimes my dad couldn't hang out either, but you know what helped? Surfing.”

“I’m sorry your dad didn’t show up too Harry,” whispered the sweet boy sincerely. “Maybe we can surf together? Like right now?” Hoped the boy really has been enjoying surfing more lately.

“Is that alright with you? Taking him surfing? He can have my surfboard,” Suggested Harry, with uneasiness, looking at (Y/n).

(Y/n) just stared at the man. The one who went to her house just because her son called him, the one who made her feel beautiful and talented, the one who gave love and kindness to her little family and never waited for anything in return.

She needed to be brave, she needed to be open, even if she was scared. Because Harry was worthy, she always knew he was.

“Yeah, it’s alright, he can surf with you," said the girl, feeling her heartbeat fast. ”And maybe an ice cream date after, if you are not too busy?” Mumble (Y/n), feeling like a high schooler asking their crush for prom.”

Harry’s eyes went wild, he stared at her for a few seconds, until his face broke into a smile.

“You know I’m never too busy for you, angel.”

(Y/n)’s face mirrored his, smiling at him softly.

They were going to be ok.

“I’m gonna get a mint ice cream, alright mom?” said Cauã in excitement.

“Ok, baby, you can get whatever you want,” laughed (Y/n) still looking at Harry.

The man stopped staring when two little hands started pulling Harry. “Wow, calm down man, when did you get so strong?” joked Harry. “Bet I can get to the sea faster than you.”

“No way!” screamed Cauã, running down the beach while Harry chased him with his surfboard in hand.

(Y/n) just stood back laughing, watching the two boys she was so fond of having the time of their life. She still didn’t know what Harry and her were, but that was okay, they would learn their way around each other.

What matters is that she took the first step, and Harry was there waiting for her.

She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard Harry calling her, pointing to his right where Cauã was riding a small wave for the first time without falling.

(Y/n) started cheering him.

If Cauã could stick up to surfing, she could stick up with Harry.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #surfer!h #stepdad!harry #surfer!harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’a little rude.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously. What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t see it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

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

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

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“You’re late!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not,” she warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

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

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

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

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

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry hums and unclenches it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

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

Lisa smiles.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he exhales.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

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

“Effect?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which part?”

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

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

“You know, so why don’t you?”

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

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

“And what if I don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

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

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

“That’d be nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Passion.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

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

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

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

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

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

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

“How are you?” She continues.

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

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

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No one said anything about nudes!”

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

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

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

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

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

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

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

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

“Or does it?”

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

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

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

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[j4gm]

TOGETHER AGAIN SPOILERS

A thread of lore, Easter eggs, episode connections, and background details from Adventure Time: Distant Lands: Together Again! Let me know if I missed anything! This is adapted from my original Twitter thread.

Keep reading ⬇️⬇️⬇️

1. I was expecting them to perhaps do a classic style title sequence for this episode, but I wasn't expecting them to straight up use the original title sequence. The only difference is this final screen saying "Distant Lands".

2. The background of the title cards is also the hill from the title sequence.

3. The ice cream having "50 flavours" and having an image of an enlightened soul is an obvious reference to the 50th Dead World as we see it later in the episode.

4. Continuing with the metaphor, the dirt in the ice cream could be a parallel to the fact that Jake's Nirvana actually wasn't perfect, because his inaction was allowing for injustice to perpetuate.

5. This whole scene feels immediately slightly off. Finn has his Scarlet sword and is out on a classic Ice King adventure, but he speaks in his grown voice and all the slang feels much more forced than it did in the real season one. Turns out this was deliberate.

6. The snow golem speaks with a baby voice like it did in the pilot episode, even though in canon it has a deeper voice. This further hints that something is not quite right.

7. The first major break in continuity is these snow golems resembling Uncle Gumbald and Peace Master, who Finn didn't meet until later in his life.

8. LSP sitting on Finn's head like this is reminiscent of Pen Ward's piece for the 2018 Ble crew zine.

9. Finn being given the choice of helping somebody but ending up helping everybody reminds me of "Memories of Boom Boom Mountain". It's the kind of resolution that wouldn't happen so much in the late seasons of the show, which helps make this scene feel even further out of place.

10. Jake is half frozen by Ice King in pretty much the exact same way as he was in "Prisoners of Love", and even has a very similar line.

11. The Snail is seen here. The crew have said that the Snail has been deliberately left out of previous Distant Lands specials, so its placement here is another very deliberate hint that this whole sequence is "trying too hard" to be like the early seasons.

12. The book "Mind Games" appears a couple of times, as seen in several previous episodes of Adventure Time. The first is as Finn is approaching the library in his dream. It also appears as one of the items in Finn's backpack later.

13. Jake is hurt when Finn fist bumps him with his metal arm, revealing that this scene is not real. This is also a callback to the title sequences of "Islands" and "Elements".

14. A whole bunch of familiar skeletons are seen in the bird's nest: Dirt Beer Guy, Abracadaniel, Me-Mow, Lemongrab, Mr. Pig, and the Snail again. This doesn't necessarily mean that all these characters are dead, since this scene is just a hallucination.

15. Old Man Finn! He's still got the chest tattoo of Jake, and this time we know that Jake is dead, so the theory that Jake died before "Obsidian" seems pretty likely. He looks similar to his old man design from "Puhoy", with the same facial hair.

16. There are several cameos of familiar characters who apparently died at the same time as Finn. The first is this duck, who previously appeared in "Ocarina".

17. The second is Donny, from the episode... uh, "Donny".

18. This goblin guy is an unnamed background character from “The Silent King”.

19. This old lady first appeared in "The Enchiridion", way back in season one. Old ladies are a species in the Land of Ooo, so I guess she wasn't actually very old back then, given she just about outlived Finn.

20. This is the cobbler who first appears in "His Hero". Amazing that he lived so long given all the trouble he got into in that episode.

21. Land of the Dead! This place was first seen in season two's "Death in Bloom", and now we are finally learning its actual purpose. It's a sort of gateway and hub to all of the other dead worlds.

22. There are some more minor cameos at the gates: a house person from "Donny", a soft person from "Gut Grinder", and a wood person from "When Wedding Bells Thaw". And, of course, the gate guardian himself from “Death in Bloom”.

23. Finn completely ignores the gate guardian in the same way he did in Death in Bloom. This also has the convenient effect of not having to reveal how Finn died, leaving it up to the audience's imagination.

24. Mr. Fox! We already knew he would die at some point because BMO had his skull in the finale.

25. Finn has his design from the first Distant Lands poster in this scene. Turns out it's young Finn in old Finn's clothes. But they gave him a shirt in the poster so you wouldn't be able to see the tattoo.

26. The clapping that Finn does while he's looking for Jake is a callback to "James Baxter the Horse", when Jake tells Finn to listen for that same rhythm if they are killed and need to find each other in the afterlife.

27. Mr. Fox talks about a "past life quotient", suggesting that there might be some kind of limit to how many times somebody can reincarnate. Finn's reincarnations are also seen in this scene; a callback to "The Vault", and confirmation that reincarnations share the same soul.

28. Boobafina, the goose who Mr. Fox was in love with in his debut episode “Storytelling”, apparently reincarnated into a tugboat. We've already seen that objects can have souls in the episode "Ghost Fly".

29. Finn is initially assigned to the 37th Dead World, which is the same one that Jake went to when he died in "Sons of Mars". We can only guess at what the other numbers on the ticket mean ;)

30. Tiffany! Despite several lucky escapes throughout his life, Tiffany has finally died. I like the use of this imagery to express Finn's conflicted feelings about him.

31. The 50th Dead World has long been established as the "highest" dead world, and the one synonymous with Heaven within Adventure Time's universe. It was first mentioned in "Ghost Princess" back in season three.

32. It's unclear what happens to souls which are destroyed within the dead worlds. It is a similar question to asking what happened to the ghosts that were killed in "Ghost Fly".

33. Death doesn't speak at all in Together Again because his voice actor, Miguel Ferrer, passed away in 2017 long before production began.

34. Finn phases through New Death when he tries to attack him, just like what happened way back in "Death in Bloom".

35. The 30th Dead World contains Tree Trunks as well as many of her love interests; Mr. Pig, her alien husband from "High Strangeness", Danny and Randy who first appeared in "Apple Wedding", and several more who we don't recognise, including at least one who presents as a woman.

36. Literally yelled when these two showed up. Joshua calls Finn a crybaby, which is a callback to "Dad's Dungeon".

37. The wall of weapons in Joshua and Margaret's house includes the iconic Demon Blood Sword, which was broken in "Play Date", as well as Margaret's auto-loading crossbow from "Joshua & Margaret Investigations".

38. Jermaine is sidelined a few times through the episode, in reference to his attitude in "Jermaine" where he feels that Finn and Jake were always their parents' favourites. I would have hoped things would be a bit better by now.

39. Fern gets name dropped while Finn and Jake are reuniting. A shame he doesn't actually show up in the episode.

40. In this scene, Finn says "What time is it?" This is a very subtle reference to the 2010 cartoon "Adventure Time".

41. In a couple of shots during this fight scene it looks like Jake might have a tattoo. It seems like it only becomes visible when he stretches out his arm.

42. New Death's amulet in this scene resembles parts of the Lich's cape, foreshadowing his influence on New Death.

43. There are several more cameos in the 50th Dead World: Booshy from "High Strangeness", one of the Marshmallow Kids from "Scamps", and Ghost Princess and Clarence, who were seen ascending to the 50th Dead World in "Ghost Princess".

44. Finn didn't interact with Booshy in "High Strangeness", but it seems they must have met at some point before they both died because Finn knows his name.

45. It seems like people in the 1st Dead World are slowly melted away until they become part of the landscape. Nasty.

46. Lots more cameos in this scene: a gnome from "Power Animal", a gnome from "The Enchiridion", a Bath Boy from "The Vault", Blagertha from "Love Games", Maja the Sky Witch, a troll from "Dungeon", Chocoberry, Choose Goose, Wyatt, a spiky person from "Gut Grinder", and possibly more.

47. Tiffany's insults are consistently nonsensical and amazing, as they were in the original series.

48. The Candy Kingdom looks extremely different. Peppermint Butler is wearing the crown so he might be in charge now, which is supported by the kingdom's very magical-looking augmentations. It’s not clear whether Finn and Jake were expecting to find Princess Bubblegum or Peppermint Butler, since both have the initials “PB” and both could be going by the title of “Princess”. Perhaps Peps and Bubblegum share the princess duties now that PB is living with Marceline more of the time.

49. Peppermint Butler has a "Boss" mug, although it's not the same colour as the one from "Obsidian".

50. Jake's ghost has the same design as he did when BMO killed him in "Ghost Fly". I also absolutely love Finn's ghost. This scene establishes that ghosts are just visitors to the mortal plane from the dead worlds.

51. Life has only appeared in animated shorts before now. Namely, "The Gift That Reaps Giving" which establishes her relationship with Death, and "Frog Seasons: Winter". This episode gives her a concrete place within Adventure Time's pantheon: she is in charge of reincarnation.

52. A translation of Life’s angry French dialogue by Shado: “After all I did for that boy. After all I did for him. No, it's not possible. It's not possible no, that... that makes me so mad but it's not possible.”

53. We finally have in-universe confirmation that Shoko's tiger is a previous life of Jake. This was previously confirmed by one of the writers, but wasn't canon until now.

54. I feel like Finn pulled off Shoko's look even better than Shoko did. I wonder whether Finn has gained the memories of his past lives now that he’s dead.

55. No Easter egg here, just want to appreciate this image.

56. There is an elemental symbol on the wall here, as seen in "Jelly Beans Have Power".

57. Tiffany's dramatic internal monologue is a recurring gag, as is his habit of nearly dying from falling into holes.

58. The Jake suit makes a cameo in the fight against New Death. It was last seen in the episode "Reboot”.

59. Finn's backpack contains a few familiar items: the t-shirt with the pocket from "It Came from the Nightosphere", Finn's underwear from "Little Dude" and other episodes, and a copy of Mind Games as I've already mentioned.

60. The Lich's Hand is present in the background of Death's... death scene. This is probably the unseen "friend" who New Death keeps talking about.

61. The Lich's menacing monologues often begin with a single command. Previously they have included "Fall" and "Stop". This time, the command is "Burn".

62. Jake uses the word "boingloings", which is a callback all the way to "Hitman" in the third season.

63. Jake's blue shape-shifter form from "Abstract" appears very briefly during his fight with Finn.

64. Finn's lumpy space person form also makes an appearance. This design was last seen all the way back in the second episode of the entire show, "Trouble in Lumpy Space".

65. Jake steps on the Lich's hand in a very similar way to how he stepped on Ash in "Memory of a Memory", which is itself a Monty Python reference.

66. The credits include a dedication to a few AT cast and crew who have passed away. Polly Lou Livingston was the voice of Tree Trunks. Miguel Ferrer was the voice of Death. Michel Lyman and Maureen Mlynarczyk were both sheet timers on the original series. Rest in peace.

67. The message that Finn and Jake write out on the ouija board is "BUTT", which Peppermint Butler takes as a distress signal. This message is also used as a distress signal by the Hot Dog Knights in "The Limit".

68. Peppermint Butler's reversed dialogue from the scene where he makes contact with Finn and Jake is "Kee-Oth Rama Pancake", the spell from “Dad's Dungeon” for banishing demons.

69. That appears to be President Porpoise with all of Tree Trunks’ other lovers.

70. In this scene, Life is humming part of "Lonely Bones", the song which Death tried to record for her in her debut short "The Gift That Reaps Giving". It's hard to notice because it's so brief.

71. Finn and Jake's cover is blown while in the Land of the Dead because Jake loudly farts, which also happened in "Death in Bloom".

72. The place where Mr. Fox explains the perception mechanics of the afterlife is the exact same location as the River of Forgetfulness from "Death in Bloom", which, as it turns out, was imaginary.

These are sort of out of order at the end because I was adding stuff to the Twitter thread as it got discovered. That’s all for now!

#adventure time #together again #finn the human #jake the dog #lorepost

[jamaisjoons]

intro her mini #9 ⤑ knj | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you enter namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. 〞single dad au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: single dad!namjoon x marine vet!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 2.8k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: absolutely none !! tooth rotting fluff !!

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: hahahaaha this is my third consecutive mini,,,, on god i hope y’all are enjoying this content nrotinpi

⏤ thank you to @yeoldontknow​ and @luffles424​ for beta reading // commissioned by @kpopularstolemylife​ in exchange for a blm donation

⇥ Main Series Masterlist

On an unassuming Sunday, with your body nestled under the cosy covers of Namjoon’s bed, you’re softly shaken awake. Feeling large hands jostle you gently, your lips elicit a soft whine as your curl further into the warmth of the duvet. Through your sleep-addled state, you hear a chorus of stifled giggles, the sound causing you to peek an eye open. Disgruntled from being woken up, you peer from over the cover, your squinted eye blearily taking in the sight as your lips twist in a frown. When you spot your boyfriend leaning over you, however, your umbrage over being woken up quickly dissipates. Instead, it morphs into curiosity.

Drowsiness ebbing from your head, your mind slowly clears as it begins working. As you wake up, Namjoon takes a seat on the edge of the mattress, still dressed in his pyjamas: shorts resting low on his hips while his sleeveless vest hangs off of his toned torso – the muscular definition of his arms on display. Bending over, he brushes his lips against your forehead in a sweet kiss, causing a soft sigh to fall from your lips. Then, pulling away, he smiles at you.

“The boys have a surprise for you, do you wanna wake up?” he murmurs, his voice low and calm, so as not to overload you with too much stimulus.

Eyebrows creasing slightly, “What time is it?” you ask, your voice hoarse with sleep.

“Mmm, a little past nine,” he hums in response. A low, strained noise croaks through your throat, and sluggishly, you lift yourself out of bed. Working the kinks out of your muscles, you stretch your body; a deeper, more guttural groan emanating from your throat as a result. The last of the lethargy dispelling from your being, your eyebrows knit together, your brain slowly comprehending Namjoon’s words.

Turning to your boyfriend, your lips quirk in thought, “Surprise?”

“Mhm. Do you know what today is?” he asks. A frown of thought mars your face for a second. Nonetheless, when nothing comes to mind, you simply shake your head. Namjoon laughs lightly, “I suppose you’ve forgotten. Never mind, why don’t you go brush? You’ll find out soon enough anyway,” he continues. Momentarily, your lips pull in a pout, and you send him your most pleading puppy-dog eyes. However, Namjoon only chuckles and gestures his head towards the bathroom.

Realising he’s not going to clue you in on whatever the boys have planned, you exhale deeply before scuttling out of bed. As soon as you’re out from under the covers, you moan pitifully; goosebumps prickling at your skin as the chilled air nips at your flesh. Swiftly, you pad over to the bathroom and as you begin your morning routine, you hear Namjoon’s bedroom door close – your boyfriend exiting out of the room.

By the time you’re done, Namjoon and the boys still aren’t back. Thus, you pad back towards the bed, and getting under the covers, you prop your back against the headboard, a pillow cushioning your lower back. Grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you idly scroll through social media. The moment you open Facebook, you’re bombarded by a plethora of Mother’s Day messages, the posts causing your brows to knit together. Was it really already Mother’s Day? You’d completely forgotten. Mentally, you make a note to call your mother – particularly since it’s been a while since you’ve spoken to her.

Glancing at the clock on your phone, and then the door, you briefly wonder if you have enough time to call her now. You know that if she picks up, and finds out you’re at Namjoon’s, she’s going to badger you to speak to him, and the boys – who she’s already dubbed her ‘grandsons’ – much to the boys’ (and Namjoon’s) pleasure; and of course, your chagrin. More than that, you also know she’s going to pester you about when she’s going to officially meet them, and as much as you love her, you don’t think you have the energy to explain that both you and Namjoon are busy, nor the fact that it’s not easy for you to take a casual trip to Busan to see her for the day. It’s still too early in the morning for that.

Just as you make the decision to call her when you have some time alone, you hear the bedroom door creak open. Angling your head up, the beginnings of a smile tug at your lips as you spot Namjoon walk into the room, followed closely by his sons. Although, the moment you spot the large tray in your boyfriend’s hands, and the way Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook all have their hands twisted behind their backs, your smile falters; a look of interest painting your visage.

Identical expressions of nervous hesitance colour their features, and quietly, they shuffle into the room – their small bodies obscured by their father’s much larger frame: almost as if they’re hiding from you. Placing your phone down onto the bed, you encouragingly smile at them – even as curious confusion flitters through you. For a little while, neither of them moves; the boys shielded behind their father’s legs as Namjoon stands at the foot of his bed. That is, until Namjoon moves.

Your boyfriend walks over to you, and carefully placing the tray onto the covers over your lap, he leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. You incline your head towards the plate, your eyebrow quirking at the spread of breakfast foods. A spread of three large waffles sits on your plate, each slathered in a generous topping, from cream cheese to syrup. Rested in the groove of each of the waffles are small chopped berries, and you can’t help the way your heart grips at the different shapes.

One boasts a smiley face, made of blueberry eyes and raspberry lips, another has slices of kiwi and blueberries in the shape of a butterfly, and the last is made up simply of strawberries in the shape of a heart. Each one, however, has to have been painstakingly designed, and a smile twists on your lips as you imagine the boys crafting the shapes. Meanwhile, as you take in your breakfast, Namjoon climbs into the bed beside you, and with no cover to hide them from your view, the boys all blush.

“Go on,” Namjoon encourages softly, his arm moving to rest on the headboard behind you as he smiles at his sons.

His voice draws your attention, and head lifting up, you turn it back to the boys. They glance at each other, almost as if they’re silently deciding something. Eyebrows creasing, you wonder just why they’re so nervous. It’s not like them, at least not around people they know - and you’ve been with them long enough for them to be comfortable around you. Their behaviour is undoubtedly odd, and only adds to your overall intrigue. It only lasts a short moment though, because the next, Taehyung moves.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Noona,” he says, a bright, boxy smile on his face. Following his lead, Jungkook and Jimin step up to the bed and similarly greet you, their earlier apprehension dissipating.

Muscles locking, your entire body stiffens at their sentiment. Static buzzes through your mind, Mother’s Day. They’re wishing you a happy Mother’s Day. Of course, you’d just realised what day it was a little while ago; but that didn’t mean you’d been expecting this. Through shocked eyes, you watch as they twist their hands from behind their back, only to place their gifts onto the bed. The air around them turns tense once again, the air so palpable you can practically feel their trepidation.

“We hope you like them,” Jimin whispers, his head downcast as he looks up at you with wide eyes. For a moment, you simply watch them, their eyes rife with hope as waves of hesitance seep off of them. Suddenly, their nervousness makes sense. They’re worried about your reaction to their gifts. After all, it’s the first time they’ve done something like this for you. In fact, now that you think about it, this is probably the first time they’ve ever done something like this. Mainly because they’ve never had to celebrate Mother’s Day before.

The weight of their actions suddenly dawns upon you. This is their first Mother’s Day - ever - and they’re choosing to spend it with you. You’re not their mother, not officially, and while you’ve mentioned your feelings about it in passing with Namjoon, you’ve never breached the subject with them. Part of you wonders if Namjoon had put them up to this, but you know your boyfriend, and you know that he’d never force something like this upon them. Thus, the only logical answer is that this was their choice. That they wanted to do this. Your eyes begin watering, tears misting your eyes at the realisation.

Directing your attention to their gifts, your misted gaze sweeps over them. There’s a small bouquet of flowers, and from the red, ruffled buds you know that they’re carnations. Large stalks of fern encapsulate the flowers: the lush emerald foliage contrasting with the deep velvet petals in a vibrant display of life. Next to the bouquet lies a large sheet of white paper; three handprints making the centrepiece, two next to each other and one below, between the two. From their sizes, you know them to be the boy’s handprints. Decorated around the prints are flowers drawn in crayon, and over the top of the card, written in multicoloured letters of varying sizes, are the words ‘Happy Mother’s Day’.

Your chest tightens, and you feel the tears welling in your eyes thicken. Taking in a deep breath, you blink your eyes in an attempt to rid them - not wanting to cry right now. Instead, with a small sniffle, you turn to the last gift. You pick up the small box, and lifting the lid, your breath hitches at your final present. There, resting in the pearlescent tissue-lined box, is a bracelet. The chain has been substituted for a silk, pale pink ribbon, and wooden beads make up the charms.

As you delicately pick up the trinket, “It’s got our names on it. Miss Oh helped us in art club,” Jungkook says, his voice cutting the silence that had befallen the room. Sure enough, the bracelet idly spinning in the air, you spot their names, one on each bead - written in inks of their favourite colours.

“Do you like it?” Jimin asks, and gently, you put the charm back in the box. Turning to the boys, you observe them - your face purposely pulled into an expression of passivity.

They await your answer with bated breath, their careful gaze on your face - an inkling of anxiousness swirling in their large eyes; almost as if they’re waiting for you to reject them. But you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. From their hand-cooked breakfast, to the small meaningful gifts, you don’t think you’ve ever had anyone been so thoughtful. Overcome by their kindness, you place the gifts onto the bedside table, before carefully moving the tray too. Then, patting the bed, you beckon them onto the bed.

Perking up at your action, they quickly clamber onto the bed. As they struggle to climb up, you can’t help but giggle, Namjoon laughing beside you. The two of you reach over and help them up - and the moment they’re safely on the mattress, you pull them in for a hug. Immediately gathering them into your arms, you embrace their little bodies whilst lavishing each of their heads with tender, affectionate kisses. “I love them,” you mumble, your voice breaking as you feel yourself choking up with emotion.

All three of them perk up at your words, and, “Really?” comes their excited chorus. Their earlier unease completely forgotten, they beam up at you brightly, and chest caving at the sight, you nod your head.

“Really,” you respond. Then, picking up the bracelet from the box, you hold it out to them, “Why don’t you put it on for me?” you ask. Eagerly, they shake their head, and you watch as Jimin takes it from you - the only one who can currently tie his own shoes - only to fasten it around your wrist in a haphazard knot. A look of concentration crosses his face, his tongue sticking out, as his brothers watch his chubby fingers work the silk ribbon. Once he’s done, Jimin looks up at you - a large smile on his face - as he waits for you to admire his handiwork.

You turn your attention to the bracelet, and shaking your wrist, you test the knot. It’s not particularly secure, the large bow still loose, and you know you’ll have to tighten it later on; but for now, it’ll do. Lips tugging into an easy smile, you bend your head and softly peck the tip of Jimin’s nose, causing it to crinkle; a sweet giggle slipping from his mouth. Holding up your adorned arm, “Noona is going to wear it forever. Thank you, I love it,” you say.

Your words cause their smiles to widen even further, a feat you’d thought was impossible. As a matter of fact, you’re sure that their cheeks must hurt from how tightly they’re pulled. Nevertheless, they don’t seem to mind, and neither do you - you wish they’d smile like that forever. However, all of a sudden, Jungkook’s stomach rumbles, causing the youngest to blush.

“Sorry…” comes his murmured apology.

Face softening, “Come on, why don’t we eat,” you reply. Enthusiastically, they nod, and watching their heads shake furiously, you let out a burst of tinkling laughter.

“You have to eat your breakfast, Noona!” Taehyung says as he leans over the bed - in an attempt to get the tray back.

Already spotting the accident waiting to happen, Namjoon’s strong arms shoot out, and he grabs his son. “Woah, hold on there, Tiger. You’ll drop it,” Namjoon gently chides as he tucks Taehyung into his side.

“I’m just trying to help,” Taehyung whines. Before Namjoon can respond, you cut in.

“It’s okay, Tae, Noona has it,” you say as you pick the tray up once again, only to place it onto the bed.

“Daddy helped us make them!” Jimin says, a proud smile on his face as he crawls into your side - Jungkook already taking up his space between yours and Namjoon’s body.

Quirking your eyebrow, you turn to your boyfriend, “Did you now?”

“I did indeed,” he replies, his head bending down to peck at your lips. Then, lowering his voice so his sons can’t hear, “Sorry, there’s so much. I told them you’d only need one, but they insisted on making one each for you,” he mumbles.

“Hmm… there’s definitely a lot,” you whisper back, your eyes twinkling with mirth. Then, raising your voice again, “I don’t think I’ll be able to finish this all, Noona’s going to need some help…” you begin, a teasing smile creeping at your lips. Letting out a deep, dramatic sigh, “Who, oh who could help me?” you lament out loud. Your boyfriend scoffs at your theatrics; nonetheless, the boys immediately perk up at your words.

“Me! Noona me!” they all call out, jumping on the bed - their movement jostling the tray. Swiftly, Namjoon reaches out, steadying the tray as you calm the boys down.

“Okay, okay. But be careful, we don’t want yours and daddy’s hard work going to waste, do we?” you ask. Faces contorting into mirrored expressions of sheepishness, they mumble out an apology. You smile gently, waving them off as you pull the tray back into your lap. Instead, picking up the fork and knife on the side, “Now, why don’t we eat?” you ask while cutting up a piece of one of the waffles.

Suddenly, “Can we watch Bambi?” Jungkook asks, his doe-like eyes looking up at both you and Namjoon pleading. You and Namjoon exchange a glance, and nodding at each other, you both agree.

Without a second’s hesitation, Namjoon crawls out of bed and leaves the room. When he gets back, he’s got his laptop in his hand - the film already pulled up. Slipping into his bed once more, he takes his place beside you, Taehyung curling into his father’s side again as Namjoon plays the film. For the rest of the morning, the five of you spend your day cuddling in bed as you feed the four of them - and as the time slowly passes, you can’t help but think that this was probably the best first Mother’s Day you could ever have.

a/n: fkrengprngpirni i hope y’all liked it,,, if you did lmk 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

⇥ Masterlist | Like my work? Consider buying me a Kofi!

#hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsguild #thekimlinenet #btsbookclub #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #networkbangtan #namjoon fluff #namjoon x reader #bts namjoon fluff #bts namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon fluff

[theanoninyourinbox]

Bright star AU - Brightstar’s Storm

First off, sorry this is so far away from the rest of the AU - I’m going to try to do weekly updates but no promises. I get writers block hard sometimes. Anyway, welcome back and here we goooOOO!

Up in Starclan, Longstar is hunting a juicy squirrel, happy he can see again but still trusting his other senses. Nearby, Fireheart is sharing tongues with Gran Yellowfang. They discuss how Thunderclan nearly lost members to Greencough, but managed to find catmint just in time to save their clan. Yellowfang divulges that Mistystar and Hawkfrost have broken up, noting it was far more amicable than her and Raggedstar’s tumultuous breakup. Fireheart confides that Longstar hasn’t walked in Brightstar’s dreams yet, hoping that he does so soon. Back with Longstar, he pounces on the squirrel! Success! And then Cloudstar literally falls out of a nearby tree, hollering the Prophecy as he runs off, looking embarrassed.

Back in Thunderclan, Brightstar goes on a patrol with Berrynose, Spiderleg, and her daughter Amberpaw. They run across the Windclan cats who warn them off, with Brightstar leading her clanmates away. Canon continues until…

Brightstar talks to Sandstorm, who confides that she might be pregnant! But she and Coldlight need to get confirmation from Darkmoon and Lionblossom before announcing to the clan in general. Canon continues until…

A patrol heads to Shadowclan to talk about the scent marking on the border. Dustpelt and Brackenfur talk about their respective mates, with Ferncloud deciding to not have anymore kits, and Sorreltail being too focused on their current litter of apprentices to consider another litter. Blackstar asserts no one has crossed the border, and the patrol leaves frustrated. Littlecloud and Embertail ask about Darkmoon and Lionblossom, and Brightstar promises to tell her medicine cats to get in touch. Canon continues until..

Gathering! All the new apprentices note how high the water is, and Foxflight sees that Riverclan looks overly ruffled. When Blackstar names the dead, Mistystar doesn’t interupt, keeping her head down and looking forlorn. After the regular announcements, the gathering ends. Foxflight talks to Hawkfrost, who reassures her that he and Mistystar are good. Hollywish and Tawnypelt talk about if Rowanclaw will be a good leader, with Tawnypelt noting he’s a bit stubborn but does his best. Canon continues until…

When Hootpaw notes that they need the bird that flew into Thunderclan, Brightstar gives it to Windclan, asking that they have consideration in the future if such a situation is reversed. Back at camp, Sandstorm and Coldlight announce that they’re expecting kits, and Cinderheart looks at Jaywhisker with longing. Swiftpool tells her son about it, and he gets flustered. Canon continues until…

After the debacle in the old twoleg den, Brightstar gets her head checked by Lionblossom, who assures her she’s fine. He also tells her about feeling the nervousness of the whole clan, even though his powers are diminished. Canon continues until…

Camp floods, and in the chaos, Mistlenose and Snowthorn are separated from everyone else. Thankfully, they reunite, with Flamewish nervously cleaning them like they were kits again. Canon continues until…

After telling off the Windclan patrol for claiming the stream, the Thunderclan patrol rescues Minty from her twoleg den. The clan is a bit annoyed, but Minty does her best to be helpful, and Frostfoot reminds everyone he and Flamewish were kittypets once.

Back at camp, Rowanstar visits, giving the tragic news that Blackstar has joined Starclan. Canon continues until…

Lilypaw and Seedpaw go hunting without permission, and Lilypaw goes under. As Brightstar races to save her, a golden blur leaps from shore and dives in. The stranger pulls Lilypaw up, saving her and stopping Seedpaw from leaping in. Brightstar thanks the stranger, who introduces himself as Fern, and asks if there’s a place he can dry off. Brightstar invites him to the temporary camp, which he accepts, helping Lilypaw back. Brackenfur and Sorreltail race to their kits, and after Darkmoon checks them both over, they thank Fern profusely. Canon continues until…

After Dovewing’s excellent suggestion, a patrol goes to get clean bedding from the twoleg dens. They return with two pelts and two kittypets as well - Jessy and Frankie. Canon continues until…

After once more telling off a Windclan patrol, with Crowfeather joining the scolding, Brightstar dreams of Longstar. He apologizes for not visiting earlier, and tells her how proud he is of her. He passes on the Prophecy, and a few messages for his family. Brightstar gives the messages and Prophecy to the appropriate cats, and feels content that she’s doing a good job. Cloudtail insists she doesn’t need his spooky ghost-dad to tell her that. Canon continues until…

Tawnypelt tells Brightstar about the kittypets attacking Shadowclan, and Thunderclan drives them off. Rowan star is miffed, but does thank Brightstar offhandedly. Canon continues until…

Frankie vanishes from camp, and Brightstar and Cloudtail follow him. Cloudtail admits to being a bit jealous of Jessy, and Brightstar promises him that while she’s attractive, Brightstar’s heart is only Cloudtails. They find Frankie looking for Benny, and find him miraculously alive, skin and bones but breathing. They race back to camp carrying Benny, and Darkmoon and Lionblossom begin to furiously work to keep him alive. Canon continues until…

After finding the battered Shadowclan patrol, Brightstar vows to drive the badgers out in a quarter-moon. The clan is torn, but she insists if the clans don’t stand together, they will break. Canon continues until…

Cinderheart announces she’s having kits, with Hollywish and Lionblossom tackling their brother and Swiftpool losing her mind about Grandkits!!! Canon continues until…

Thunderclan and Shadowclan drive off the badgers, but near-tragedy strikes - Dustpelt has been badly injured, but Darkmoon assures everyone he’ll survive. Brightstar sees the badger blood everywhere and hopes that this is the Prophecy, because it IS a lot of blood. Canon continues until…

Lilypaw and seedpaw become Lilyheart and Seedpelt, their parents looking on in pride. Fern and Ivyleaf have struck up a strong friendship, often seen together. Flamewish ships it. Brightstar is just happy that her grandkit is happier. Greystripe retires, and Frankie and a recovering Benny join Thunderclan as Stormpaw and Badgerpaw, with Foxflight and Swiftpool as mentors; Fern is named Fernsong, as his skills and age are warrior appropriate. Minty is reunited with her twolegs, and Jessy heads out, wishing Thunderclan luck in the future. At the Gathering, all clans agree to work together in such a future event, and Starclan spirits yowl their agreement.

In the future, Foxflight watches Wheatpaw (Sorrelpaw) and Yewpaw (Hollypaw), and Sandstorm and Coldlight’s kits Redpaw, Icepaw, and Brindlepaw become apprentices, Stormpaw and Badgerpaw become Stormcloud and Badgerthroat, and learns to her great joy, that she’s pregnant!!! Shrewleg runs face-first into a tree in shock.

Aaaabd that’s it! For now! All my love! I better upload this before I have to go back to work!

#Warrior cats #longstar au #warrior cats au #warriors #Brightstar au #My art #I’m back baby!! #Bramblestar’s Storm Rewrite

[beskarberry]

Valkyrie

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 4

(The Mandalorian x f!reader)

“What... did you... do?”  You hissed between clenched teeth. “Did you poison him?! Give me the antidote right now or so fucking help me I’ll tear every limb off your ugly little body!” You were seething, fear and fury stoking fire behind your eyes. The bounty only laughed harder.

“Antidote?There’s only one antidote for that one, sugar, and I sure hope you like him enough to give it to him! Bwahaha ha! Good luck!”

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 7.8k

Content warnings: Canon-typical violence, SEX POLLEN + rough sex, oral sex (m receiving) and kink talk (not gonna list all of them but they’re all very common.) There’s another filk song reference in this one that I’ll link in the replies.

A/N: VERY IMPORTANT TAG! The bounty uses she/her pronouns so if girl on girl violence makes you squeamish please read ahead with caution! Also know that I >>do not<< use any gender-specific slurs (b*tch, c*nt, etc.)

<-Previous Next->

Everything. Was. Purple.

Purple! The grass, the sky, the trees, if you could call them that. The pulsating, gelatinous towers that spiraled into the sky were definitely alive, but you weren’t sure if ‘tree’ was a fitting word for them. Their branches were long and hanging, weighed down by some kind of berry or fruit that glowed with teal streaks. Your next bounty was on a habitable moon orbiting an enormous gas giant that took up the entire skyline. It was lush with vegetation and sparsely populated, a perfect hideout for an Ardennian.

The Razor Crest was parked in a meadow of lavender grass, though once again you questioned your choice of words, watching the way the long wet leaves wiggled in the breeze. You breathed deep, letting the rich, humid air fill your lungs while your traveling companions followed behind you down the old ship’s ramp. Baby beans trotted right past you on stubby legs, picking things up off the ground that he probably shouldn’t be putting in his mouth, but was too sneaky for you to stop him from doing so. You heard the Crest’s access door shut, and turned to see Mando eagerly trotting along to join you.

No, not ‘Mando’... Din. Mr. Mystery finally had a name, though you were still conflicted about using it. The man had spilled so many secrets into you in such a short amount of time that the butterflies in your stomach were breeding many-legged worms. Squirming, creeping things that quickly metamorphosized back into their illustrious true selves, and you weren’t sure which part of their cycle was making you more nauseous. But they were your secrets to keep, your heart wearing his name like a locket; safely hidden where nobody but you could see.

You had slid the heavy beskar bucket back up the ladder to him while he stayed in the dark of the cockpit, the knowledge of his facial features still kept by your hands alone. The pair of you had then stood close together at the armory, him with his helmet back where it belonged and you with your bright eyed mask protecting your crown. At the equipment cache he couldn’t stop talking, pointing out and picking up a variety of weapons and traps that would work particularly well for this simian quarry. Everything had a story, and he told you all about the bounties he had pulled trophies off of, or things he had gotten as rewards for helping someone else. He’s giddy. You could only listen along as he prattled away, handing you grapple after snare until you had to start putting things back in the armory, just so you could have your hands free again.

Hands. Every time he gave you another tool of the trade to add to your ever-growing inventory his hands brushed somewhere on you. Leather tipped fingers glancing quickly on your wrist, a lingering palm on your shoulder; each fleeting touch lasting just slightly longer than the last. He was struggling to keep his hands off of you, reluctant to give up the intimacy you had both been working at in the void-black darkness of the flight deck before atmospheric reentry tore you both apart. What other prayers of devotion could he pour into you, if you’d just had a little more time? ‘You belong to them, that is The Way’. The oath he had made to you was followed coldly in your mind by another string of words, ‘I’m not asking you to do the same, you’re not Mandalorian’.

You couldn’t think about all the words that you still needed to unpack, it was hunting time. The six-limbed simian was wanted for, checks puck notes, chemical warfare. She had blasted her way to the Guild’s Most Wanted list by lobbing incendiary bombs and poison gas grenades through a meeting of outer rim parliament, and the price on her head might have been higher than yours. The bounty puck specifically stated she was to be taken alive. Super. The droid-face mask wasn’t going to be much protection for your lungs, but it might at least keep your eyes safe. You took time to pack extra bacta and some quality rations, plus one of your new bantha-wool blankets. You woke up that morning on Tatooine, and the voice of your tortured circadian rhythm wondered if you would be sleeping rugged tonight somewhere on this heliotropic hellscape.

A bounty fob blinked lazily from the larger hunter’s belt, indicating that the quarry was on-world, but not close enough to catch. The three of you would have some walking to do. The child tried to make friends with every wiggly thing, running on his short little legs from fern to fern, hunting for treats. The little beastie’s adopted father chased him through the grass, trying, and failing, to keep him from getting into trouble. The sight of the mighty metal man being defeated so easily by a baby made you laugh, and the sound of your melodic giggles drew his attention.

“What are you laughing at?”

Oh no, I’ve been caught!  “I’m laughing at you, rust bucket! The scariest person here isn’t either of us, it’s him!” You pointed to where the child was tearing through the reeds after some kind of amphibian, and started laughing harder when Mando cursed and flew after his impish son. The rowdy child had a frog-like creature hanging from his mouth that vanished the second his dad tried to pull it away.

“Stop eating things you find on the ground!” The baby only squealed at the scolding, earning himself a grumpy, papa-patented sigh. Mando picked up the potato-sack of a child and dumped him unceremoniously into the hover-crib that floated along behind. “You can get back out when you learn your lesson! I don’t want you to get sick.” The baby made huge, sad eyes up at his dad, but Mando turned away quickly to avoid their hypnotic powers. You were doing your best to hide your giggles, covering the part of your mask where your mouth was, as if that would help. The Mandalorian strode up to you with a swagger. “Oh, you think that’s funny, cyar’ika?”

“You don’t?” You caught your reflection in the black gloss of his visor as he sauntered up to you, and your bug-eyed doppelganger only made you laugh more. A wall of beskar stood in front of you, eyeing you with slow tilts of his helmet while you got it all out of your system. When your breaths returned to normal you looked down at your hands and found that they had made friends. You had reached out for him without even thinking, and you were a little embarrassed that they had gravitated to him so naturally. He squeezed your hands gently before letting them return to you, and you heard the songs of star-lost sailors whispering in the back of your mind. The nights are long between the stars, and lonely, too, for me. I wonder how I might have fared with home and family.

“Night’s coming fast, we should keep moving.” Hunting mode reactivated, your companion started towards the undulating wilderness. He wasn’t wrong, within a few hours the massive planet that hung above you drifted out of view, replaced with a sea of glittering stars. The foliage around you glowed with otherworldly colors, teals and violets splattering their dense leaves and curling down their jelly trunks. Their loveliness made it easy to distract yourself from the task at hand, your eyes chasing the occasional yellow and red flashes that blinked from insects high in the branches. Ahead of you a large old tree had fallen over, and between its trunk and its upturned roots the spot was easily defensible.

Mando busied himself with clearing squishy sticks and leaves from the area to make a campsite while you looked for something to start a fire with. Nothing looked burnable, everything had a gooey, wet consistency, but some dead leaves under the log were dried out. They would have to do. You made them into a neat pile and pushed some rocks in a circle around them for safety, now you would just need a light.

“Hey, tinman, I need some heat!” He followed your pointing finger with his helmet and waltzed over to you, happy to be of assistance. He started up his wrist mounted flamethrower and used the pilot light to set the tinder ablaze. Not even fire could escape the overwhelming purpleness of the estranged moon as the blaze kicked up a bright indigo with a low heat. You got to work getting dinner around, pulling savory Tatooine treats out of your pack, pushing some of them towards the heat source so they would be warm. At the bottom of your bag you found some soft, squashed thing, and pulled the remains of breakfast out into the light. It was mashed, but it was still probably edible. “Mando, you never ate your breakfast.”

“What?” He looked at the sad excuse for a meal that you were offering him, eyeing it with curiosity. “You got me breakfast?”

“Yes? I told you that I would, though I guess it’s dinner now. Here.” You waved it at him so he would get the hint, and he took it carefully from you with timid hands.

“T-thank you. You’re very kind.”

“And don’t you forget it!” You whooped with overwhelming confidence, but the sweet words made you blush under your mask. Before he could turn and leave the safety of the fire to find a private eating area you reached for his hand again, pulling the armored paw to your forehead and knocking it softly against your mask. Kov'nynir. A wistful sigh escaped his modulator, and you knew the act of affection was well received. He bent himself down to where you sat at the fire and pressed his own forehead against yours, rumbling with contentment. The gentle sound made your heart swell, such a simple gesture that carried so much meaning. A bounty hunter’s life was fast and dangerous, why should finding companionship be any different?

You pushed your heads together just a little harder before he pulled himself away from you to go eat. You lifted your own dinner and the baby’s from the hearth, poking at it with your fingers to make sure it wasn’t too hot for Mr. Green Beans to eat. The child took it from you eagerly, content in his protective pram and making gross little noises while he ate. The food tin you had was much better than day one’s menu: bantha meat and Tusken hardtack with a side of more mystery mush. Your partner chose to take his meal elsewhere, fading into the darkness behind the fallen log where he could remove his helmet and eat in peace. Someday he might make more sense to you. The clank! of an empty food tin hitting the ground brought your attention back to your campsite buddy, the baby having thrown his clean plate at you.

“What’s wrong, booger? You bored? Alright.” There was a tiny bit of energy still left in your bones, and what better way to spend it than entertaining your precious audience. You pulled yourself to your feet, taking a moment to dust the spores from your pants and pull your backpack on before launching into song.

“When we pulled into Naboo’s Port in need of R&R,

The crew set out investigating every joint and bar.

We had high expectations of their hospitality,

But found too late it wasn't geared for spacers such as we!”

“And we're banned from Naboo, everyone!

Banned from Naboo, just for having a little fun!

We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or four,

But Naboo doesn't want us anymore!”

Green baby hands tried their best to clap in time with your sailor song, accompanied by adorable cooing noises while he tried to sing along. Your rambunctiousness summoned Mando back over to the fire, and he sat down on a large rock next to his foundling, watching you through his visor as you danced around the fire with flailing limbs.

“Our Engineer would yield to none at putting down the brew;

She outdrank seven space marines and a demolition crew!

The Navigator didn't win, but he out-drank almost all,

And now they've got a shuttlecraft on the roof of City Hall!”

You ran through the chorus again, taking a second to notice that tinman was tapping his foot to the beat along with you. You wondered briefly if they ever sang on Mandalore. You took a deep breath to continue-

“-KABOOM-!”

The fireside exploded just meters from your spinning dance, and you were hauled backwards to safety by your oathsworn protector,along with his foundling, and ushered towards the safety of the trees.

“-BOOM! Ba-BOOM! KERPLOW-!”

Trees and plants exploded on either side of you as you ran through the luminous dark. The Ardennian! Neither of you had been paying attention to the bounty fob, blinking fast and red under his cloak. Above you the sound of something swinging through the branches caught your ear, and you pulled your blaster and fired behind you.

“Bwahaha! Missed me missed me now you gotta kiss me, two-arms!” You couldn’t see her, but her taunts gave you a better idea of her position, firing several more shots towards their source. You knew you had to take her alive, but that didn’t mean intact.

“Go go go!” Mando was at your back, doing his best human shield impression while he hurried you away from the bombardment, the child’s bulky pram tucked uncomfortably under one arm. Your flight through the forest was haunted with vicious cackling and the sound of serene foliage being obliterated by the explosives that rained down around you, choking you with incendiary fumes.

A clearing materialized ahead, and the three of you rushed out from under the unmerciful trees. When you had gotten far enough from the tree line you both turned your eyes to the canopy.

“There!” Picking up her heat signature on his visor’s infrared sensors, he pointed to your target, his other arm still occupied with protecting the foundling. You grabbed the barrel of the pulse rife that was still slung over his shoulder, aimed, and fired. The ball of electricity arced from your little trio and collided with the trees, the sound of pained screams and crashes followed the wounded pyromaniac as she fell hard to the ground. Bullseye.

”Stay here, Mando, I got this! Keep him safe!” You stormed into the woods after the sounds of distress, snare at the ready to take the bounty alive. You were angry, rage powering your stride as you chased after her like a Corellian tracking hound. Angry that your sweet moment had been ruined, angry that she’d put the foundling in danger, angry that your partner had been pulled from the comfort of the fire to fulfill his duties as guardian. You sprang over roots and fallen branches, catching the sight of movement where the Ardennian was making a run for it. 

“Oh no you don’t! Get back here!”  Your words boiled with so much fury that they almost weren’t your own. Balls of fire exploded around you in a last ditch effort by the primate to kill you first. You dropped a knee into the loamy soil to steady your shot.

Woosh! The net sailed past her by mere inches, and you flew to your feet to begin the chase again.

“Ha! Grow some more arms and maybe you’ll have better aim!”  Fire erupted around you again, but the flames that seared at your eyes came from inside, burning with fuel siphoned from your heart. You took another shot.

Woosh! Miss! FUCK. You had one shot left on the snare-slinger, and you had to make it count. The trees were thinner here, how long had you been running? The simian was struggling to get away now, the long slimy branches too far apart to swing through. Behind you the sound of thunderous armored boots told you that Mando was hot on your trail, and you were glad to have the back up even though you had specifically told him to stay put. Nobody listens in this crew. Something green and gaseous poofed next to you, and the terms of the bounty puck came back to you clear as day: chemical warfare. The Ardennian was out of bombs and had switched to gas canisters, hurling a variety of brightly colored poisons at your face. Third time’s the charm.

Woosh! The net flew true, tangling in the many limbs of the fleeing quarry and throwing her to the ground. Gotcha! You bore down on her as brightly glowing vials sailed over your head, landing on something behind you with a crash! You were on her in an instant, shoving a blaster in her face.

“You’re done, chuckles! It’s over!” The fear in her eyes vanished as quickly as it had appeared when she glanced back behind you.

“Ha! I don’t think so, stinky. You’re gonna have yer hands too full with that to deal with little old me.” You followed her gaze, and froze from the ice crystalizing in your veins. Mando stood a ways back, still as a statue. Bright neon pink goo slimed its way down his helmet and dripped onto his chest plate. You turned on the Ardennian again.

“What... did you... do?”  You hissed between clenched teeth. “Did you poison him?! Give me the antidote right now or so fucking help me I’ll tear every limb off your ugly little body!” You were seething, fear and fury stoking fire behind your eyes. The bounty only laughed harder.

“Antidote? There’s only one antidote for that one, sugar, and I sure hope you like him enough to give it to him! Bwahaha ha! Good luck!” She was howling with laughter in your grasp, and the sound of her mirth was like nails on chalkboard to your ears. You practically threw her to the ground, running back to your incapacitated partner. He hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Mando! Hey hey can you hear me? Tell me what’s wrong!” The glowing pink slime was still on his helmet, and you hunted for something to wipe it off with. The closest thing was his cloak, so you reached for it and went to clean the pretty pink sludge from his helmet when an armored claw shot up and caught your wrist. The action startled you, but you were happy to see him still able to move. “Mando? You ok?” Slowly, with almost robotic precision, he turned his gaze to you.

“Cyar...’ika....?” His words were long and labored, the strain of them sending a chill through your bones.

“Yes! It’s me, Mando. I’m right here, I’m gonna get you taken care of. I- I’ll find some bacta or-” Your words were cut off by another wicked claw on your shoulder.

“So... Beautiful...”  The lustful words made the gears in your head grind to a halt. Really? Right now?

“Ok great, glad to see you’re fine, now can we get back to hunt-” He cut you off with a hand at your throat.

“Beautiful.. and mouthy. So... fucking... mouthy.” A leather tipped hand snaked up your neck to your lips, grabbing at your jaw and pushing a thumb in past your teeth. You tried to spit him out but his other hand latched on to the back of your skull. “I’m going to put that mouth to good use, mesh’la.”  Your mask was tossed to the ground, and the ‘good luck’ the Ardennian had wished you now made sense. Whatever was oozing down the front of his helmet was driving him into an uncontrolled sexual frenzy, and you were the sole outlet for all his desires.

“Mando! -Blech-! Man- Din!” He stopped trying to get down your throat at the sound of his own name, hearing it for the first time from your lips. “Din! We don’t have time for this right now! Get a grip!” Oh, but he already had a grip, and it was tightening on your scalp.

“That’s right, sweetheart, say my name.”  The command dripped from his modulator the same way the poison dripped down his face, and he started walking you backwards by the hair until you bumped against a squishy tree. The change of emotion from rage to fear to confusion made your head spin, and the new contending feeling of heat building in your guts was making itself known.

“Knock it off! Fucking hell, she’s going to get away if we don’t do something right now! ”

“Let her. You’re the only one I want.” The weight of his arms on your neck and shoulders became too much, and the man who you had shared a such a sweet moment with not too long ago was now forcing you to your knees. You dropped to a kneel, and your face was hard pressed up against the solid bulge that was trying to rip its way out of his pants. He took only a second to free himself, pushing his throbbing cock against your teeth. “Open wide.”

You wished you were meeting with mini-mando under better circumstances, but if getting him off would get you back to the hunt, you were happy to help. The taste of him on your tongue sent electricity through your body, spooling up fresh heat between your own legs. Above you Mando was making deep, guttural groans as you took his cock all the way to the back of your throat, wrapping a fist around where you couldn’t reach without gagging. You glanced around his leg to where you could see the hover-crib, floating a good distance away with the shield closed tight. Good, he doesn’t need to see this. A swift thrust brought your attention back to where it was demanded.

“That’s a good girl, take it all in. Let me make a mess of that pretty little mouth of yours.” He had a death grip on the back of your hair and the side of your jaw, pushing up to keep you open enough to take his length. Inside you were swirling your tongue around the tip every time it slid past, making sultry praises flood from his modulator. Most of the words were garbled, raunchy and alien, probably Mando’a. Spit leaked from the sides of your mouth, making good on his word to make a mess of you. The claws in your hair pulled tight, forcing your nose into the tuft of soft hair at his base so he could pump your throat full of cum without you escaping. “Ahh~! That’s it, mesh’la, drink it all down.”

The hot spunk made you choke and gag, tears rushing to your eyes, but you still swallowed as best you could. When he finally let you pull away you gasped for air, coughing on the ground at his feet.

“There! *cough!* is that... -blech-, better? Can you hunt now? Are you done?” The potionmaster was probably long gone, you couldn’t hear her fucking cackling anymore.

“Cyar’ika, we’re not done until I say we’re done.” The spear at your cheek was still hard as beskar, ready for round two. The armored man yanked you to your feet, shoving you face first towards the nearest tree. The tree’s flesh was soft and squishy, a fact you would be grateful for soon enough. Your hips were pulled backwards, and a buzzing sound told you he had pulled a vibroblade from his belt, stabbing under your pants’ edge and pulling down the crack of your ass until your clothes were cut away; leaving just the legs and your boots to protect you. The cold air hitting your cunt gave away your arousal, and he zoned in on it like a falcon, pressing still-gloved fingers to your wet slit. The roughness of the leather invading you made you cry out and your knees buckle, squirming under the intrusion of one finger, then two; pumping in and out of you to stoke your flame.

“You’re so pretty. So fucking pretty, and strong. I’m gonna lose myself in you, fierce little thing, and I never want to be found.” His hands ripped away from your swollen cunt, and the head of his cock was pressed to its lips. Both of you made delicious, filthy noises as he buried himself to the hilt, the slick of his own cum making a wonderful lube. “Fuuuuuck, you’re hot inside, lovely girl. My cock was made just for you.” He barely made it a few inches out of you before he was slamming back into you again. The force of him behind you smashed you face into the soft, forgiving tree, though you wished you could find somewhere for your hands to grab hold. He fucked you like a man possessed, and you were sure there would be bruises on your hips and thighs when he was finished.

His mouth ran like surging lava. “Fucking.. Maker... beautiful girl, beautiful hunter! Hunter-killer! I knew you would be a challenge to hunt, but I never thought you would be the one to capture me! You’re a work of art on the killing field! Mmph! You are mine and I’m going to fill your belly with my warriors ‘til you’re fit to burst. They’ll be so ferocious! Born with daggers in their teeth.” Vulgar words between thrusts made your entire body hot with a mix of embarrassment and lust. You might never know if the neon goo had given him the desire to breed you, or if he adored you so much that he wanted more of you to care for, but you did know your contraceptive implant would be having none of it either way. Still, his damning words flowed. “Nobody will ever put their hands on you again but me. I’ll give you everything you desire, cyar’ika, anything you ask for will be yours. I’ll bring the stars down from the sky if you ask me to! I- I’ll- I’m gonna...”

The Mandalorian stilled behind you, twitching as his cock spilled into you and ran hot down your thighs. His breaths were gasping, broken and desperate for air. His fingers digging into the soft skin on your hips would leave their mark for sure, and though he’d done a fantastic job of scrambling your insides you still felt warmth in your chest. Even in his poisoned, delirious state of mind, all of his thoughts were of you alone. The grip on your ass loosened, and the sound of a heavy thud hitting the ground told you he had fallen down into the soft purple grass. You struggled to peel your face from the jelly tree, standing like a newborn fawn on shaky legs. The bright pink streak on his helmet had lost all its glow, and your human rust-bucket was slumped over on his side, still as the grave. Not again, fucksake. You clambered over to him, digging under his cloak with your hands until you found his pulse. Still alive.

“Alright Mando, fucking stay here this time like I told you to.” You glanced around the meadow, but the Ardennian was nowhere to be found. Fuck! All that work for nothing. You groaned, looking down at what was left of your pants. You checked all the pockets, finding your lucky krayt teeth and a bacta patch before kicking the ruined fabric off over your boots. You dropped down to the spent form of your comrade, tilting his helmet up and slapping the bacta patch on one of the hickies you had left there a few days ago. You took a moment to stuff the teeth into one of his many pouches since you no longer had pockets of your own. With your ass in the wind you made your way over to the floating pram to check on your tiny pal. “Hey beans, you doing ok? Your dad and I were just having a little-” you spun the cradle around. Empty.

“No! Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK!” The bounty had made off with Din’s infant son, your little buddy! You couldn’t stop the fear that dried your throat and brought tears to your eyes. Get a hold of yourself! Find him! NOW! Familiar rage welled up behind your eyes, and you raced back over to your unconscious guardian, still laying in the dirt and making it extra difficult to untangle the pulse rifle still slung over his back. Your hunting instincts were on high alert, and the sound of shouting caught your ears. “I’m gonna get him back, Din! Just... just fucking stay here!”

You tore off after the noise, every horrible scenario running through your head at once. Would she steal him? Would she hurt him? Would she kill him? Rage flared hot in your chest and threatened to burn you alive, your feverish skin icy with sweat. Wet leaves slapped past your bare knees so fast that their thin edges left vicious paper cuts. You didn’t care, nothing else mattered but the foundling. The sound of shouting grew louder, and you thundered though the trees to another clearing by a narrow wine-dark stream. 

“Help! This thing’s got me! Get me down, please! Get it away from me!” The simian terror was hanging in the air ahead of you. No, not hanging, floating. She was thrashing her arms, but all that did was slowly spin her in place. The sight was magical, but more important was the safety of child. On the ground near her, he stood with one fat little paw in the air, pointing at his abductor and concentrating with all his might. You didn’t know how he had escaped, or what the actual fuck he was doing, but you didn’t hesitate. You pulled the pulse rifle from your back and fired, once, twice, three times until her limp body was hanging in the air, knocked out cold. Or dead.

Baby beans crumpled to the ground, and the Ardennian followed suit, the ugly noise she made when she hit the ground brought a wicked smile to your cheeks. The baby’s little eyes were bleary and tired under his big droopy ears, and you scooped him carefully up off the ground to pull him in for a good, strong hug.

“Did you get the mean lady, sweetie? Good job! I don’t know what the fuck you did but hey, no questions asked, alright? I’m just glad you’re ok.” He smiled up at you with his tiny toothy grin before conking out in your arms, leaning heavily against your chest. You set him back down on the ground, just long enough to tie that six limbed asshole up tight, using everything you still had above the waist to keep her captured. You tied her arms to her feet and slung her limp body over you like a rucksack, then picked the foundling back up. With your bounty, baby, and bare ass you started the hike back to your fallen man.

Mando still laid where you had left him on his side, and you were annoyed to realize that, out of everybody involved, you were the only one left awake. Fantastic. You returned the baby to his floating bucket, pulling it closer to the pair of you this time, and dumped the Ardennian in the dirt. There was no way you could maneuver three bodies at once, somebody was going to have to get up and walk.

“Mando! Mando get up, we gotta go.” The man in question didn’t budge, soft, muffled snores your only response. You tried everything you could think of, pulling on his hands and legs and shouting, anything to wake his ass up. You knocked on his helmet, “Ground control to Major Mando, time to get up! Rise and shine, bucket boy!” Nothing, he was going to have to sleep the after-effects of the potion off, so he was staying right where he was.

You had no idea how far you had gotten from the campsite, and the cold night air on your bare booty made you remember your half-nakedness. On the ground scattered around the pile of living beskar was your backpack and the remains of your pants, along with the rest of your trap gear. Start packing more clothes. You went for the gear first, pulling another set of cuffs and a good strong rope out, and added a few more knots to the half-dead quarry so she wouldn’t be pulling any bullshit in the night. The backpack still had the bantha-wool blanket wrapped up tight, and you tied it around yourself like a skirt. Better than nothing.

Kneeling on the ground next to your Mandalorian, you cleared yourself a space to sit down, taking an extra second to make sure all his bits were tucked back out of view. You leaned back against the crook of his hips, feeling the slow rise and fall of his belly at your back. You were so tired, how many times had you been on the run in the last cycle alone? Your body desperately craved sleep, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bounty. Anger crept its way back into your eyes again, and you wanted to take it out on her, channel your inner rancor. No, she’s already lost. Go to sleep.

But the merciful tug of sleep didn’t come, and when you realized why you felt foolish. The child’s pram was on the ground where you had pushed it next to his fathers’ armored head. He was sleeping like a little prince, and didn’t move at all when you pulled him out of the crib. When he was situated in your arms you pulled Mando’s cloak around the three of you for extra warmth. Sitting upright was a horrible way to sleep, but with the baby safely in your arms and a blaster at your side, you were able to catch a handful of winks.

You woke up many times that night, worried that something might happen to your baby or your partner, and each time your eyes shot open you glared at the dark form in the grass; though not once did it move. Still, you didn’t trust that you were safe, and only when the rim of the planet that dominated the sky drifted over the horizon could you actually keep your eyes closed. But the blissful comfort of real sleep was torn from you by your lounge chair trying to get up on its own. The rush from trying to sit up too fast knocked Mando right back down on his back, and his hands went to his armored temples to try to stop the world from spinning.

“What...where am... where’s....” He shot up like a bolt of lightning “WHERE’S MY SON?!”

“Right here!” You turned yourself to show the bug-eyed bundle to his father, letting him see that the child was safe. Mando wrapped his arms around you and the child, and you could hear his quick, shuddering breaths coming out from under the helmet. The hug was tight, a comforting fortress around your shoulders.

“Are you ok? What happened? Why are we in the grass? Where’s the bounty? Did she get away?” His questions gushed like a river, urgent and frightened. You pointed at where the Ardennian was still on the ground, far enough away that she was out of earshot. She was awake now, but still immobilized. Her eyes were fixed on you, and you could see the edges of her mouth turning upwards into a snarl to bare her teeth. Din’s hands were all over you, inspecting you for damage, and his breath caught in his throat when he reached your waist. Big, ugly red and purple fingerprints were swelling up between the scrapes on your skin, and he pushed the edge of your makeshift skirt down to follow their horrifying trail; they were everywhere.

“Who did this to you?”  The volcano behind the beskar threatened to erupt with molten malevolence, “Did she do this to you?”

“No Mando,” you sighed, a little hurt that he didn’t remember. “You did.” The wall of metal armor went stiff as a rail, his visor locked on your eyes, looking for the truth. But the truth was right in front of him, and he couldn’t accept it.

“What? N-no.. I would never... I could never hurt you, cyar’ika! Please... please tell me that I didn’t do this.” His fingers ghosted over your marks, but never touched them, his hands afraid of dealing more damage to your lovely skin. “I-I couldn’t have... I’m... I’m so sorr-” You cut him off with a hand on his helmet where his mouth might be.

“It’s not your fault, you were poisoned. I’m just glad you’re alive, Din.” The sound of his own name made his shoulders droop and his hands come up cradle your cheeks. You couldn’t meet his visor, the closeness of the distraught hunter making you flustered, so you tried to crack a joke. “I’m just glad you wanted to fuck me instead of the Ardennian.” The way his helmet snapped backwards made you realize he didn’t remember that part either. “Oh don’t look at me like that, I took it like a champ! You’re gonna have to do better than bruises to hurt this mighty hunter!” Your attempted words of comfort didn’t seem to work, and he pulled you and the wiggly child back to his chest in a world-erasing hug.

“Please just tell me you know I wouldn’t do this to you on purpose, I never want to hurt you again. Please.”

“Mando! I’m fine, really.” He held your head firmly, the blackness of the visor trying to bore though your very soul. You nodded in his grasp, “I know you didn’t, it’s alright, Din. I forgive you.” The force of his helmet knocking against your forehead almost made you see stars. His hands were wrapped around your head, holding you as close as he could in the intimate gesture of his people. You didn’t blame him at all for what happened, but it would be a while, if ever, before he could forgive himself.

“Oh isn’t that puke. Spare me the lovey-dovey crap and take me back to the Guild already! Buncha bucketheads.” You didn’t want to address the Ardennian that hollered at you from from the grass, but the beskar bucket turned on her in a heartbeat. He sprang to his feet in a flash, pulling the pulse rife from the ground and firing, stunning the target for the fourth time, fifth time, sixth, seventh.

He’s gonna kill her. You grabbed at his arm, demanding his attention “Mando, you got her, it’s over! It’s done.” Stance wide and chest heaving, the barrel of the long rifle stayed trained on the bounty for what seemed like an eternity before being lowered back to the ground. “Good, good, see, everyone’s ok. Let’s get back to the Crest and get out of here, sound like a plan?” He nodded, still watching the limp-again simian for signs of movement. When he was sure there wouldn’t be any more argument he stalked over to the quarry and slung her over his shoulder, ready to make the long march back to the ship. You set the baby back in his pram so you could take a second to grab everything off the ground, making sure you had your pack and your mask, and followed Mando back through the woods.

After hours of silent hiking, the Razor Crest came into view, and you had never been so happy to see the old girl, pretty as a plum in the violet haze. Once everyone was aboard, the fog of the carbonite chamber filled the tiny cabin to the brim, and left a new dark block in its wake. The Ardennian’s body was limp, though thankfully still alive; but the mischievous sneer couldn’t be erased so easily. You took a deep breath, sighing with relief that this hunt was over. Two down, one to go. Then Nevarro.

Your Mandalorian hadn’t spoken to you the entire trek back to the ship, and he was distracting himself by placing all the weaponry back in their spots in the cabinet. He’s still upset with himself. You still wore the bantha-blanket skirt, and its soft edges swished around your ankles. Gently you placed your hand on his shoulder, and he jumped violently under your touch as he was brought back to the present.

“You know I’m not mad at you, right?” He didn’t meet your eyes, but his hands stopped fussing with the armory. “Really, Din, I don’t blame you at all. I’m ok.” You tugged on his waist, bidding him to turn and face you, but still he couldn’t lift his eyes from the floor. You ran your hands from his shoulders down his chest, trying to bring him comfort with your touch, but when you saw his utility belt you remembered what was in his pockets. A flashbulb of an idea lit up in your skull, and clear as day the reason for your frivolous purchase on Tatooine made itself known. “You know what, I’m so not-mad at you that I have a present for you.” You grabbed his belt to dig through the pouches, but strong hands shot up to carefully take your wrists.

“Mesh’la no! Not after.. not after I- I can’t. I don’t deserve your affections.” Your eyes met his visor, its gaze no longer staring down at the floor and instead watching you with intensity. A smile broke it’s way out past your teeth, followed by a knowing laugh.

“No, that’s not what I meant, good thought though. No, Mand-...Din. Din, I have a gift for you.”  He hesitated to release your arms, but when you were free of his delicate hold you went back to the pockets on his belt and pulled the opalized krayt teeth from one of the pouches. Your companion’s visor followed the glittering treasures as they were brought into the light, and you wished you could see his bewildered face under the beskar. You handed them to him, and he carefully turned them over in his palm, letting the fossils catch the light and revealing their intricate patterns. His helmet tilted slowly, baffled that such beautiful things could be pulled from anywhere on his body, but the way his beskar sent streaks of light over his armor gave you a fantastic new idea.

Taking the treasures back from him you unscrewed the button fasteners that protruded from their backs, revealing the small, strong magnets hidden underneath; and pressed them up to his helmet. The teeth fit perfectly in the recesses of his cheeks, like they had been made just for him; and though you knew hunters didn’t wear adornments, they still looked lovely. “I know you can’t keep them on, especially when we go hunt, but they still look nice on you. Now you get to be my lucky charm.” His soft leather fingertips rubbed gently at his cheeks, feeling the way the indents had been filled with the precious jewels. The ship didn’t have any mirrors, and he would have to see how the swirling pools of crystalized moonlight looked the next time he took his helmet off. 

Wordlessly he reached out for you, taking your face in his hands and pulling your head to his so he could press your foreheads together. You were becoming fond of the mysterious gesture, letting the butterflies in your stomach stretch their iridescent wings and fan contentment into your heart. You pushed back against him, wrapping your own arms around his shoulders, locking his helmet to you. The whole galaxy could fly apart at the seams and you knew you would be alright, as long as you were right where you were, shielded in your Mandalorian’s embrace. I wonder if he feels the same. Tiny claws on your leg pulled your attention to the floor, and you were overjoyed to see big black orbs staring up at you.

“Little Beans! C’mere you, get in on this.” You hauled the foundling up between your bodies, letting him get a good look at you and his father. He chirped away, happily patting his papa’s fancy new trinkets, mesmerized by their shine. The little creature was full of energy, but you had been on your last leg for hours and you couldn’t stifle your yawns any longer. “Boys, I can’t keep this up anymore, you’re both awful cute, but I need sleep.”

“Of course, cyare, you’ve earned it.” Mando reluctantly stepped away from you and rolled out the Tusken sleeping mat that you had purchased. It was much thicker than the sheet originally on the little cot, and a hundred times more forgiving. You were comfy in seconds, and the warm embrace of sleep started pulling on your limbs and shutting your eyes. A different touch was on your arm, and you lazily opened one eye to see an armored hand pulling the bantha blankie up snug around you. Sweet, thoughtful murder-machine is what you had thought of him that first day, and the stupid pet name made you chuckle.

“What does that mean? That word, sire-eeka or sigh-air, they’re Mando’a, right?” You wouldn’t let sleep win you over without a fight, even if it was a fight you wanted to lose.

“Cyar’ika. The closest translation in Basic would be sweetheart, or darling.” Here we go again with Mando’a 101.

“Sweetheart, huh? Pfft... sounds like you like me or something. What’s the other word mean? You’ve never used it before now.” He sighed, long and tired, and you could see the foundling on his lap, still enthralled with the glittering opal on his fathers' metal face.

“I...I don’t know how to translate that one, but it’s more than cyar’ika, stronger, with more depth.” Something about his posture told you he might be lying, he knew exactly how to translate that word, but he wasn’t ready to tell it to you. He might, though, when he was ready.

“Alright, tin man, if you say so.” Your eyes finally let themselves close all the way, but even in the darkness behind your lids your devious hands still found their way to him, giving his hand a good squeeze. “Teach me more someday?”

“For you, ner cyare’se,” Your hand was pulled up from the blankets until the backs of your knuckles rested on the cool beskar of his brow, “I’d bring you the stars down from the sky, if you asked me to.”

<-Previous Next->

★Masterlist★

TAG LIST:

@mandoinevarro​ @mrsparknuts​ @cookiejuicedesu​ @kaermorons​ @ironbabey​

#bargaining with beskar #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you

[im-totally-not-an-alien]

Final Fantasy 7 prompts #70

1. Time traveler au where everyone remembers, and I mean everyone!

Hojo? Incredibly curious about this new phenomenon and is hunting Cloud like a Zolom slithering up to a Chocobo

Sephiroth: Also hunting Cloud, although for entirely different reasons

Genesis full on tackle-hugged Angeal to the ground and not even a half hour later the scene repeats with the puppy

Random people on the streets scream and cry in delight at seeing thier loved ones for the first time since The Plate/Meteorfall/Geostigma took them from the world of the living.

Its a mess.

2. Cloud was never a selfish man. At least, he never considered himself to be. But standing here, aiming a gun at a sleeping man's head, he couldn't help to feel like he was.

3. Cloud sniffled, staring at his campfire as the wind blows at it. Its as if the wind god himself is trying to snuff out the only comfort he had left. He didn't mean to betray the group, he swears.

Not that it meant much.

(Au where Cloud never got mako poisoned after giving Sephiroth the black materia and swam away from Tifa, losing her in the lifestream)

4. After going through yet another tragic event, his mind shuts down. He fell into a coma (again) this time within the lifestream

Now its up to Zack and Aerith to save him from himself by entering Clouds dreamworld and spending time with him in hopes of convincing him to leave. They didn't count on Cloud not remembering what happened in the real world, nor for Cloud to have been given everything he had ever wanted.

Zack struggles with the morality of taking Cloud from a happy dream world and dumping him back into a bleak reality

5. Yuffie dumped a bucket of water onto Cloud, prompting the blond to grab a bucket of his own and chase the ninja through the jungles of Wutai.

Playtime was cut short however, when Yuffie fell into a hole in the ground. It was covered by large ferns and plant life, completely obscuring it from view. Still, she was a ninja! She should have seen this coming.

Cloud also feels a bit foolish for also falling in while looking for her.

They wake up and climb out of the hole, and head back to Godo, expecting nothing to have changed, only to find they-

A. Had been missing for 20 years

B. Are in an alternate reality

C. Have time traveled to the past

(Take your pick)

Cloud has no time to feel down, not with his precious annoying baby sister around. Someone has to keep the princess safe, and thats not easy when she's her own worst enemy.

(I intended this to be a fun sibling fic)

6. Before Crisis Shinra gets reports of a silver haired woman with reddish purple eyes dragging an unconscious blond man around like a stuffed animal.

Aka Jenova herself has come out to play

7. Sephiroth comes out of the labs much more woozy than normal. He doesn't think much of it at first, and by the time he realized he was in trouble, it was too late.

Genesis came into the Generals office to complain to the silverette about Shinra, only to find Sephiroth spacing out and acting rather...odd.

"Sephiroth," the redhead asked gently, "Are you...high?"

Sephiroth blinked slowly at him, and the commander couldn't help but to feel it was a greeting of some sort.

The silverette smiled before saying. "I am higher than you, yes."

"Thats not what i- Wait. Did you just make a joke?!"

Or

A certain blond trooper walks in holding paperwork for the general, who proceeds to pick up the smaller man and coo at him.

This somehow culminates into Sephiroth saying, "I know. I should adopt you!" Before spinning the young man around in the air like one wood a toddler.

Clouds confused shout was audible a whole two floors down, catching the attention of the honorable commander and his puppy, who went to investigate.

(Inspired by a dream I had of Sephiroth holding a struggling Cadet Cloud and saying "This is my son now." To Angeal)

8. Genesis munching on popcorn while watching Cloud beat up Sephiroth for the umpteenth time.

He even has the audacity to cheer for the blond

9. General Sephiroth encounters a child who is dressed up like him when out on a walk.

He talks to the child and leaves the situation feeling much better about himself.

(I need some wholesome Sephiroth fics)

10. Kadaj as a cat loaf

11. Sephiroth and Cloud have a shared dream about them being happily married and Cloud being pregnant.

The moment Cloud wakes up he barricades the doors and windows.

Sephiroth...well he doesn't know what to think about this situation. He's kinda just staring off in a daze.

He attributes it to trauma and neither ever bring it up.

12. Time traveler Cloud, but with all of Jenova-fied Sephiroths abilities. The problem is that Cloud has seemingly little control of these abilities, leading to Cloud being very tired and the writer being very amused.

13. Sephiroth rescues a blond fae from the rubble he was pinned under.

This was how he gained his silent stalker. The man never spoke. But his calming smile said enough.

14. When Lazard discovered there was two red clad men, who spoke in loveless quotes, he had to fight the urge to bang his head onto his desk and groan like a teenager. When he found out there were three of the man, he actually did just that.

Finding out there was only one Angeal was a bit concerning, especially since these other two worlds were supposed to be further along in the timeline. Thankfully, Zack hasn't seemed to change much in either. Then again, the one carrying the mako poisoned blond seemed wary of everything. Strange.

Strangest of all were the Sephiroths. One refused to come to this meeting, stating that it wouldn't be worth his time, which shocked the entire board of directors. Nothing they did or said seemed to faze the once dutifully obedient man. Luckily, Shinra still had thier own Sephiroth on thier side to protect itself if necessary...and the people too if they were lucky.

The third Sephiroth only commented something about searching for clouds or some such nonsense.

Lazard couldn't help but to feel disaster looming on the horizon.

15. "I'm pretty sure they would trade everyone here for a single corn chip if I got hungry." The blond deadpanned. "They're heartless."

Yes, food good. The voice interjected. Nutrition. Survival.

Cloud wanted to tell it that he didn't even like corn chips, but talking back to the voices in your head is usually considered to be a bad idea. Even if they're real.

Especially if they're real.

Aka the J and S cells mutate and begin communicating with thier host.

Cloud is not pleased.

Bonus: Sephiroth and Cloud reacting to your fanfiction.

#plot bunny #prompts #fanfiction #cloud strife #sephiroth #ff7 #zack fair #sefikura #ffvii #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 story prompts #final fantasy 7 prompts #final fantasy prompts

[novelconcepts]

fic: the thing about gravity

The thing about gravity is...

Well, the thing about gravity is, it’s inescapable, isn’t it? By definition. Gravity: noun. The force that attracts a body toward the center of the earth, or toward any other physical body having mass. You don’t fight gravity. You plan for it, or plan around it; you don’t fight.

The thing about gravity is, it doesn’t let go just because its convenient. It doesn’t let go because time marches onward, because the seasons change, even in the event a person wants it to. 

The thing about gravity, Jamie sometimes thinks--more and more, if she’s honest with herself, as the years roll by and the memories grow thinner--is in its inevitability.

Maybe this wasn’t what Dani would have wanted. Maybe not. But there’s something about it Jamie hasn’t been able to let go of. Not the year Dani left her. Not the year after that. Not sitting at Flora’s wedding, regaling a room of mostly-strangers with the tale of their life together. 

Not now. 

There’s a lot in life a person chooses, thinks Jamie, watching herself move around the bathroom in a mirror scrubbed clean as ever. Her hands are precise, her motions certain; if they tremble upon the toothbrush, the lipstick, the washcloth, it’s nothing of alarm. Nothing of note. Just part and parcel of moving forward through the years. 

Moving forward, as it were, alone. 

She hates that word, Jamie does. Alone. Didn’t use to. Used to be, alone suited her just fine. Maybe better than anything else. Alone left no room for other people’s manipulations, for sharp words or hot water spilled on soft skin. Alone could allow for accidents, but not embarrassments. Not shame. Just the art of learning the next path forward on your own time. 

And then came blue eyes, thumbs tucked into fists, a brandished fire poker. An adoration Jamie had never before thought she needed. A kiss in a greenhouse, watched by ghosts. 

She wouldn’t trade any of it, even now. Not an inch of what she was able to buy, borrow, and steal with Dani. It was theirs--the messy nights, the languid mornings, the hot tears, the tight embraces. It was theirs, every fern and ficus, every flower, every burned stew and perfect, beautiful laugh. She didn’t get enough time with Dani--Christ, could anything ever be enough, with Dani?--but she knows it was more than they were promised. More than anyone’s promised. She’s grateful, as the lines spring up around her eyes, drawing webs of exhaustion into her skin. She’s grateful, as the strength seeps out of her knees and her hands begin to ache in the cold. She’s so goddamn grateful. 

And still. Still, that pull. Because gravity doesn’t fade with time. Gravity doesn’t release simply because other people say it should. 

In a way, Jamie finds this reassuring. This one thing, this one immutable fact of reality. Even as Miles raises sons of his own, as Flora develops a line of children’s dolls far more advanced than anything she grafted as child, as Owen begins preparing to pass his restaurant down to those younger and more spry. Henry’s gone now, long gone, and Jamie sometimes wonders if he felt it, near the end. If the pull tugged at his trouser leg in those last moments like an errant child. 

Probably not. Henry had his own kind of gravity, didn’t he, made up of those kids and their parents and their bundled-up tragedy. Wasn’t like this. Wasn’t like this at all. She hopes he was happy when he went in his sleep, buoyed on soft dreams of a lost lover’s caress. Hopes he left those kids knowing they’d made it through all the shadows and into the sunlight on the other side.

Owen laughs a lot, when they see each other, about who’s likely to go next. He thinks it’ll be him. She asks him once what he believes he’ll see on the other side, and he’s silent for a long stretch. Long enough for her to know his kind of gravity hasn’t let go, either. 

“She’d want to be,” he says quietly, gesturing toward the ceiling of his flat. “You know. Up there.”

“If anyone could get in,” Jamie mutters, and they’re both grinning. He’s regrown his mustache, a fit of youthful pique that makes her feel like they’re both thirty again. She reaches up, almost expecting to find soil caked into her hair. 

“I’ve never known what to believe,” he says. “Not the way she did, not with any kind of...faith. But I like to think we get back what we put in. That if she believed she’d go to heaven, to her Heaven, then that’s what she got.”

Jamie waits. She knows him too well, knows he’s getting around to it. And, after another thoughtful sip of wine, he does.

“I don’t know what to believe,” he repeats, and there's the faintest tremor in his voice. “But I know what I would love. I hope...I hope she’s left a place for me. In whatever way you can.”

Jamie reaches over, squeezes his hand. He presses the other to his eyes, inhales deeply. 

“Well,” she says at last, “you’ll have to ring me when you find out. I plan to beat you there.”

And they laugh, laugh like old times, like bulky jackets in the rain and spitting bonfires and cake that maybe needs strawberry, maybe needs lemon. They laugh, him believing she’s joking, her knowing she isn’t.

Fact is, with some kinds of gravity, you can feel it. Tugging at your clothes. Whispering around your hair with the breeze. Guiding you forward like a soft hand at the small of your back. Maybe not everyone is granted this kind of luxury, but Jamie thinks Dani was. Thinks it explains everything, really. 

And hasn’t she been smelling Dani more and more, after all these years? Not just when she stumbles upon an old package in the back of the closet, a shirt she somehow missed after all this time, but just...sitting. Just sitting with a book, or waking in the night with the sensation of an arm around her waist. It’ll come without warning, a hint of Dani, and then gone. 

And hasn’t she been hearing Dani, in the strangest of ways? A snatch of song hummed from a lifetime away. A single peal of that deliriously-breathless laughter. A sigh, the way she only sighed when Jamie kissed her collarbone. Never for any reason she can clarify, never from something so lucky as a tape or a video, just...a signal. Brief. Echoing. 

It’s madness, she thinks at first, and then, slowly...no. Not madness. Memory. Memory returning, a little stronger, a little clearer, every year. As if some great cosmic force is actually funneling Dani back to her, instead of clearing out the last of the cobwebs. 

A gift. The greatest gift. She can’t say whether she’s earned it, and she certainly isn’t going to try explaining it to anyone else, but...

She wakes one morning, and thinks, is this how she felt? Is this how she knew? There was a note when Dani went, a single page dictated in her slightly-slanted script. Not an explanation or an excuse; simply I love you, and I loved you, and I will love you. There will be other nights, Jamie. Live. 

And Jamie did, she thinks with a stab of impatience even now. Jamie did live. For years, for decades, she’s gone on without that smile. Without having Dani there on the other end of the phone, without Dani’s hands on her hips when they danced, without Dani’s ring clinking lightly against her own as they bumped hands across a dinner table. Without Dani, she crawled out of bed each morning and walked through another day. And another. And another. She attended weddings and funerals without Dani; held Miles’ son without Dani; hugged Flora tight as she wept over some accident or other without Dani. She walked the world and she hurt and she cried and she lived without Dani. 

And now...

Now, that old gravity. Coming to call. 

It isn’t a bad thing, Jamie thinks all the way over on the plane. She’s a picture of parallel storytelling, dressed in her oldest brown flannel shirt, a pair of jeans with holes in the knees, a pair of Converse high-tops that never quite fit right again after a trip into a lake. Her back is bowed, and her hip clicks when she walks from the taxi up the winding drive. It’s not the same, exactly, as last time. 

In a way, that’s the greatest mercy. She never could have done this, if she’d thought she’d walk that same path as the same woman who did it so many years ago. The path is the same, perhaps, but the woman is changed. The woman has learned so much about what it is to live in a world that doesn’t have Dani Clayton in it. 

She doesn't go to the lake. She goes instead to the house, to whose front door Miles has so kindly granted her a key. He thinks she’s after pure nostalgia, searching for monsters or memories he doesn’t even know he’s missing. Just an old woman, trying to tie her life together with an attractive bow. 

Bless him. He doesn’t need to understand this. If any of them ever do put it together, it will be Owen, and Owen alone. She thinks he might be a little upset with her, but not unforgiving. She thinks, if it had been Hannah, he’d do the same thing. 

Bly yawns open to her, a great good place brimming over with great complicated history. She walks its rooms slowly, hands brushing over tables and wallpaper and the spot where she always leaned her hip and tossed chopped vegetables into Flora’s hair. She remembers: fixing this lamp, retiling this bathroom, sweeping this front hall. This was hers, before she ever thought to have anything else. A great good place to keep safe and sane. 

The kitchen is hard. Upstairs is harder. Her knees creak, and she has to pause for breath before laying her hand on that doorknob. She tells herself it’s old lungs, too many cigarettes, too little clean country air. She tells herself it’s anything except the truth. 

For moment, she’s granted one of those gifts. A windfall of blonde hair on the pillowcase, a bare shoulder, a single freckle she’d gone nearly wild upon finding on otherwise clear skin. She closes her eyes, breathes in the stale air of a room gone unused for decades, and thinks it might be the moment right here and now. That fist of gravity, tightening like a reflex around her heart. 

But, no. Not yet. There’s one place, one more sight to see. 

The sun is nearly set by the time she reaches the greenhouse. She leans her weight against the doorframe, peering inside. It hurts her a little, to see the chaos that has unfurled in her absence. Miles is a good man, but he’s never been much for plants, for quiet cultivation, for long stretches of silence alone in a humid space. Without Jamie’s tending, the life in this room has sprung up in all the wrong places, gone absolutely bananas in all the wrong ways. It isn’t pretty, it isn’t neat, and she almost hates it. 

Organic, she thinks wryly, tapping a fist once, twice, against the doorframe. It’s all just bloody organic, and who am I to try to prune any of it now? 

She walks the room like she walked the house, slow, methodical. Tipped-over planters, she sets to rights. Weeds gone feral, she brushes her fingertips across. It’s not pretty in here, but it is most certainly alive. More alive than it ever was in her care, maybe. There’s something to that. 

A blanket is still spread across the little sofa she used to nap on when the days got especially hot and lazy. She settles herself in, drapes the musty plaid over her lap, leans back against the arm. If she squints, she can almost see another frame wedged in beside her, stiff and trying not to take up too much space. 

Oy. Dead boyfriend. It’s over. 

It’s a laugh that tastes more like a sob--just one of those dumb little things, one of many that still can set her off at a moment’s notice, and is it still called a haunting if you wouldn’t give it up for the world?--and she bites into her knuckles to muffle the sound. The sky outside has gone a rolling purple, nearly at day’s end. It was a nice sunset, she thinks. A good send-off. 

When they find her--when Miles finds her, to be most specific--they’ll think this is how the story ends. An old woman in a greenhouse, asleep. An old woman in a greenhouse, enveloped in endless dream. Miles will cry. He will hoist her into his arms, stand with her the way she once could stand with him on a long night spent dozing by the fireplace, and he will carry her with all the tenderness a ten-year-old boy can never manage. 

It will be a fitting end, for the gardener. 

It will not be the last of Jamie Clayton. 

When she wakes next, the arthritis in her hands has gone. Her knees bend--a bit of resistance, perhaps, but nothing insurmountable. Her eyes peer through the shadows with a keen awareness she’s almost forgotten. 

The ring on her finger gleams--not the tarnished luster of decades’ wear, but like the first time Dani slid it over the knuckle, brought it to her lips, baptized it with a nervous breath. She touches it lightly. Glances back over her shoulder at the old woman beneath her thin blanket. Takes a good, long look to cement gravity’s hold. 

Live, she thinks, god, yes, Dani. I lived. And when all was said and done, wasn’t I always going to choose you? Wasn’t I always going to come home? 

And here, the part of the story she’s been afraid to flip to all these years. The part she can’t plan for. Can’t spin into something fairy-tale or ghostly. It simply is, simply will be, and whatever happens now, Jamie’s stuck into it. Jamie is in the grip of gravity, as she’d always sort of thought she might be. 

A soft rap, knuckles--or a mug--against the greenhouse door. Jamie closes her eyes. Can’t quite bring herself to turn, not yet. 

Even if, she tells herself. Even if it isn’t right. Even if those eyes aren’t hers. Even if those eyes aren’t there at all. 

“Seems an awful long way,” a voice says, mildly amused, “to not even say hello.”

The strength goes out of her all at once, even as she’s spinning, even as her hands are reaching, and Owen was right. Owen was righter than he’ll ever know. It’s what you believe, it’s what you need, it’s what you hope in every stupid aching molecule because sometimes, sometimes the world is not so random and cruel.

Dani could have stepped out of that night, her sweater tucked down past her wrists, her hair pulled back out of her face, and her face. As bright and shining with possibility as ever Jamie remembers. Her eyes, blue as the summer sky. Her lips, finding Jamie’s like there wasn’t so much as a day gone without. 

“Didn’t know,” Jamie realizes she’s gasping. “Didn’t know if it would--if you would--”

Dani presses into her forehead, nose nuzzling gently, lips stealing her breath. A ghost story in the flesh--and yet, somehow, a fairy-tale, too. A woman, and a memory, and a heartbeat made of something so precious, Jamie’s sure she isn't worthy. 

“You cheated,” Dani says, laughing into the side of her face, kissing everywhere she can reach. “You weren’t meant to follow me.”

She doesn’t sound angry. She sounds as in love as she was the night she tried to coax Jamie into just one more kiss in that hallway. 

“You asked me to come back,” Jamie reminds her, hands anchored around Dani’s back, feeling young and strong and better than the last few decades could dream. “You asked me to stay.”

Gravity’s like that. Gravity’s bigger than one person’s selfless heart, bigger than one person’s desperation. Gravity pulls, and maybe it takes time--maybe all things have their time, their place, their two months of blossom for every plant--but, eventually, gravity always wins out. And Jamie could ask questions: how it all works, why Dani’s still Dani, how much of it they’ll remember as the time slips away into nothing. She could make a story out of it. 

Instead, she pulls Dani close, winds the fingers of her left hand with the fingers of Dani’s right, and thinks every ghost story needs an ending like this. An ending steeped in love, in mystery, in shadow, in forever.  

The thing about gravity is, no matter how long it takes, it always pulls you toward home. 

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #fanfiction #dani x jamie #jamie x dani #all right look it's not like I'm going to be banging one of these out every night (probably) #but sometimes it just lives in my head and needs to leave #had an ask once that's been begging to be expanded on ever since #also oops made myself cry with this one

[spyrkle4]

My two entries for the I Hope So OC contest! But I love them so much I’m gonna draw them more after the contest bc they’re my kids now 

I came up with two characters. Dusty the half-tsavo lion, and Fern the leopon! 

(I keep mistyping Fern as Ferns, sorry if you see that) 

These two I like to imagine as a duo, Travellers who like exploring the world, but I’m gonna talk about them as singulars under the cut. which basically is bg info, fun facts, and also how I think they’d interact w/ the protags!

Dusty:

Backstory: Dusty was born in a small pride, however he wasn’t the son of the king of said pride. His mother and the king had a toxic relationship and he was born from an event of her having her litter sired by a wandering lion (A tsavo) to try and spite the king.

Despite that, Dusty got along great with his stepdad, it’s just that his mom was a really petty lion that didn’t like the fact that the king paid attention to all the lionesses/cubs in the pride, not just her or her kids. Dusty decided to leave to see the world and he was rly sick of his parent’s on-off arguing (which annoyed the rest of the pride but he and his half-sibs were caught in the mid), so he left with some of his siblings to become Travellers (King Stepdad didn’t mind, he just wanted his kids/subjects to be happy, Dusty aspires to be as kind as his stepdad)

Due to his upbringing, Dusty values loyalty the most, and he’s got a bit of a temper from his mom, but he usually tries to keep his cool. He might seem grumpy, but Dusty’s a pretty chill dude that will give you dad advice

Fun Facts:

-Most of his features are from his sire, like his color and eyes

-His markings are mostly from his mom’s side

-Dusty had a different name at birth (I’d like to think his pride had a naming theme on nature stuff) but he changed it when he left

-Dusty travelled with his siblings until they found a pride they liked, Dusty wanted to explore more so they parted ways, he’ll sometimes wander back to that pride territory to tell his sibs about his travels

-He was born hard of hearing and his hearing got worse as he got older, until he became fully deaf in his late teens (or the lion equivalent), King Stepdad helped coach him with speaking, and Dusty learned to read lips, if you’re speaking too fast, he won’t be able to understand you

How he’d get along with the Canons:

-Dusty’s chill so I think he’d get along with the 3 protags of I Hope So, he’d probably swap travelling stories over a stripe-coat leg

-He’d be very kind and sympathetic if he heard about Hope and Adamant’s family situation (Dusty cannot stand bad parents, he’d throw hands with one if lions had hands)

-So he’d just think the protags are Just Neat

Fern:

Backstory:

-Fern has 0 idea who her parents are, but she was raised by her aunt, a pretty cool leopard. Fern didn’t get along with her cousins, who teased her being half-lion. 

-One day she got lost from her aunt/cousins, but when she found them again, she heard her cousins say they were glad she was gone, and it made Fern really upset so she decided to travel on her own

-She wants to try and find her parents so she can live with them and not have to see her mean cousins ever again, Fern does miss her cool aunt, but she doesn’t want to ruin her aunt’s relationship with her kids 

-Even tho Fern is pretty young, she usually goes after small prey so hunting isn’t that difficult 

Fun Facts:

-Ferns is pretty imaginative and can get often lost in her own thoughts

-I imagine Ferns is autistic, she likes stimming with her paws and hyperfixates on cool textures, she likes the feeling of rocks and will sometimes carry a rock that she thinks is neat and will feel it with her paws bc she likes the texture

-Even though her cousins were really mean to her, Ferns doesn’t wanna be mean like them so she tries to be nice because she doesn’t want to make anyone feel sad like her cousins made her feel sad

How she’d get along with the Canons:

-Ferns is just so nice to everyone she’d be super friendly to the 3 protags

-She’d think Adamant is very cool and would admire her a lot

-She also admires Hopeful and would be like “I wanna be as cool as you when I grow up!”

-And she’d think Storm is very pretty and now wants a mane, probably would try to make one out of leaves 

My OCs as a duo:

-I imagine that Fern bumped into Dusty during her adventure and he was like “must adopt child” bc he was not letting this poor child be on her own, for Traveller’s sake! 

-Dusty is such a dad he’ll adopt lost cubs or cubs that had terrible pasts, and that includes Fern, he teaches her about lion stuff, which Fern finds weird, she thinks the concept of prides are weird bc staying in one place your entire life? That’d be boring!

-Dusty told her not to say that if visiting a pride. 

-Fern would think Dusty is really cool, she tries to speak slower so he can understand her, as she’s usually a fast talker

-Sometimes Dusty will call Fern “Small Spots” because she doesn’t have as many spots as a leopard, and because she’s smol

-Fern calls him “Sir Fluffy” back because she thinks he has a soft mane, he internally dies of laughter everytime

-Dusty thinks that Fern’s parents abandoned her, since Fern told him that her aunt never talked about her parents, but he doesn’t share that theory with Fern because he doesn’t want to make her upset, but he does try to tell her that she doesn’t need her parents in her life to have a fufilling one. 

-Secretly, Fern considers Dusty her uncle, but she doesn’t want to say it out loud because she’s scared he’ll get mad at her. (He won’t, and he just gives her a big ol’ hug when she one day tells him that)

#i hope so #i hope so contest #ihopesocontest #lions #ocs #Sparky's art #dusty #fern

[zodiyack]

Good Try (300+ Follower Special!)

Pairing: Grunge!Michael Langdon x Fem!reader

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, swearing

( gif not mine. I don’t quite remember where I found it :\ )

taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace​

Masterlist | Cody Fern Masterlist

Y/n and Michael were still asleep when the sun shined through the window; their naked limbs tangled together from the night before, smiles still present despite their unconscious states, eyes screwed shut as they relaxed into one another’s comforts. It was a way for them to feel something. It was an escape from the cruel reality of the world. It was perfect.

However, their momentary bliss was cut short when footsteps woke Michael up. His eyes shot open at the realization. Michael checked the time before he was sitting up shaking Y/n awake as quickly as he could.

Mead already knew of their relationship, and approved thankfully, but even Y/n guessed that there were boundaries. It was a very teenager thing to do, to sneak into her boyfriend’s room at an unreasonable hour just to satisfy herself in ways only he could. Yet, they equally shared no regrets. Aside from not keeping track of time, that is.

“Michael?” Her eyes fluttered open, a beautiful sight he normally would’ve loved to watch as a smile made way to his lips, but now was no time for awing over his girlfriend’s morning habits. She noticed the panic emitting from his expression, “What’s wrong?”

He could hardly get a word out before she heard them too. “Shit-”, they agreed on their alarm with a curse in unison. Michael rushed to gather their clothes, pushing Y/n in the closet and pulling up his boxers right as the door opened.

“Well good morning to you too.” Mead’s amused chuckle originated from the sight of Michael’s flushed cheeks, “Breakfast is ready.”

From a small opening in the closet, and out of his peripheral vision, Michael could see Y/n struggling to grab for an article of clothing. Luckily, it remained out of Mead’s view. He walked to the closet, kicking the cloth in and reaching over Y/n to grab for a shirt, “Okay. Let me get dressed, I’ll join you after.” 

She nodded and left his room, closing the door behind her with one last look at his messy bed and equally as messy bedroom. Michael pulled on his pants and boots, Y/n pulling on the last part of her outfit as well.

The pink-cheeked blond quickly helped his girlfriend out of his closet as soon as he’d heard the door click shut. “You alright?” His arms wrapped around her waist as he looked into her eyes with a gentle caring look.

Y/n released a sigh of relief, a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. She felt herself relax into Michael’s calming embrace, “Mhm... That was way too close for my liking.”

“Relax, she still doesn’t know, so we’re fine.” Though his smile seemed humorous and entertained, like he’d just witnessed the funniest thing in his life, his hands ran up and down her arms, trying to soothe her worry, as well as his own.

“Yes, but how long until she does know?? I still have to leave, Michael.”

“You could stay in here until I finish?”

“No...I could try climbing out your window” she looked at the window, the look in her eyes strongly against her idea, “...or something?”

A cartoonish light bulb seemingly clicked over Michael’s head, “I’ll distract her during breakfast. You can leave through one of the doors, alright?” She nodded slowly, pulling away enough to press her hands to his chest and kiss him before he left to eat.

Michael relaxed into the chair. Mead set his plate in front of him, giving him a warm smile before she walked back to grab hers, Michael giving her a matching one in return. He waited, patiently, and kept his eyes trained on the section of the house outside of the dining room, averting his gaze whenever Mead looked at him.

So there the two sat, the smell of the breakfast was amazing. Michael was eager to eat, but also found himself rushing for the promised distraction. Knowing his adoptive mother prayed before meals, he readied himself. He grabbed his silverware, hurrying to cut and eat at his french toast. 

Miriam’s eyes were felt on the top of his head as he leaned down to bite from the food on his fork. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Her hands folded over one another, facial features and hand gestures hinting at his forgetfulness.

He could see Y/n stalking towards the door as quietly as she could. The panic built itself yet again. Michael folded his hands, subtly exchanging a quick glance with Y/n, wordless warnings and directions. He sighed, closing his eyes and beginning his prayer.

“Bless us dark lord for these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy infernal bounty from the power of Lucifer eternal,” Mead looked up, opening her eyes and smiling proudly as Michael spoke, “amen.”

Michael waited, then grabbed for his fork again, shoveling the bite into his mouth.

“I swear, the only other person who liked this as much as you was my first husband...” She bit the food off her fork, “And that’s why it was so easy to poison him.” Her attention turned back to her food.

Michael smiled with amusement, head tilted slightly. “You’re not gonna poison me, are you?”

Mead pointed her fork, toast on the end of it’s points, at Michael, “Not if you clean your room,” she brought the fork to her mouth, “like I asked you too.”

He continued eating, cutting at his bread and looking at Miriam, “You didn’t really kill your first husband, did you?”

“No,” she looked at her son blankly, “I killed my first three husbands.” The boy chuckled, diving back into his food. “You might as well learn this now.” She grabbed at his attention, “if something isn’t working, it’s best to just cut the cord. And make sure the insurance policy is up to date.”

Michael looked again, seeing that Y/n was still there. He already had his knife and fork somewhat lifted, so he grinned and moved the knife to face the direction Y/n was to go in. “That’s evil!”

“Hell yeah! I’m a devil mama!” They both started laughing, providing the perfect timing for the girl sneaking about. 

Y/n made it to the door, opening it as the laughing settled down. She squeezed her eyes shut, highly aware of the risks now that her perfect distraction was gone. The door continued to creak as it opened.

Michael’s eyes widened with horror. The click of the door opening reached the kitchen. Their great plan had been spoiled. He tried to think of a way to get Miriam’s attention, but it was too late. 

Mead leaned back in her chair, “Oh and Y/n? Make sure you have everything sweetie. Last time you were here, you left that tub your mother brought the cookies in. I hope Michael returned it to you.” She took another bite, “They were divine by the way, be sure to give her my thanks, would you?”

#Michael Langdon x reader #Michael Langdon #Michael Langdon imagine #Cody Fern x reader #Cody Fern #Cody Fern imagine #ahs x reader #american horror story x reader #ahs #american horror story #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #x reader #reader insert #zodiyack #all readers #300 follower special #300 followers #thank you guys so much!! #i'm sorry for the late posting! #i have 4 more to make oops #first michael fic- i tried #feedback appreciated!

[the-artist-rae]

Trolls 4 au idea

Edit: i just realised theres already a thistle (who apparently s real name is Dennis??) so i gotta rename my character 😭

So basically im writing a mock script for a trolls 4. I want to write one for trolls 3 but .... I WANT BROBBY CHILDREN, so here we are. Basically in my au, poppy and branch have a set of twins. A girl named Aster who is bright blue with pinkish purple undertones and a boy named Thistle. But, theyre shocked and suprized to find out thistle comes out of his bright purple egg, grey!

A time skip happens and a argument between him and his father causes branch to loose some of his colors.

The argument is set up like:

Branch finds his son in his pod sitting in darkness.

Branch- so ya like it dark, huh?

Thistle- yeah, so what of it.

Branch-Nothing i just was wondering if u wanted to-

Thistle- I dont.

Branch- look i just want you to be happy and find your true colors...

Thistle- sounds like you just want me to be like Aster!

Branch- Now hey now, i didnt say that! Ive been in your place before and i know how you feel, and i dont want someone i care and love to feel that way!

Thistle- You dont know what i feel! All you want me to be is the same happy annoying and insane troll... Just like everyone else!

Branch- Hey, No-

Thistle- I HATE YOU!

Thistle stops for a moment and looks at his father to see his skin darken, widening his eyes. He gets angry at himself and runs away.

Thistle runs to his friend Fern in hope of him knowing a way to get his true colors in hope itll reverse the color loss on branch. Fern tells thistle of a guardian troll of purity who live in a mountain who can give him his colors. Thistle tells his parents that hes going to travel and see aunt Barb, and they go on their adventure!

On the first day they run into a rock/classical troll who lives in the Forrest by herself because her parents are deceased and she had no idea there was other people (basically a tarzan situation but she knows how to talk and has basic understanding of most things) ... The situation is, Thistle and Fern stop to make camp, roasting marshmallows. And out of nowhere a arrow zings right in front of Thistle's face! Him and Fern crowd together to see a dark figure come out of a bush and she says "Who are you?" In a somewhat demanding tone. And they shiver in fear " We're just travelers!! Please dont hurt us!!". She sighs and and chuckles," Oh, i thought you were here to hurt ME!".... This all comes to a conversation that Fern leads and that she'll join them cuz she knows her way around the Forrest.

In the background through out the story, villain trolls are introduced into the story who gave Fern the map and everything about the purity troll who can grant only one trolls wish. And throughout the movie they follow the gang and get caught into their hijinks.

Having Button (the female troll) in the mix has gotten Thistle to come out of his shell and he slowly starts getting happier and sings throughout the movie.

When they finally reach the mountain they come to a cave with paintings and rural architecture. At the end of the cave is a clearing with a waterfall. The waterfall spreads to find a troll pure of white and glowing in a deep sleep in a coven.

The villain characters seep out of the darkness with evil laughter. " Nice job Fern you got us where we need to"

The rest of the gang gasps and gets tied up.

"Well take it from here". Turns out, the purity trolls was sleeping on a gem. And the gem was the wish granting miracle not the troll. They grab the gem and head to troll village where they plan using the gem to destroy it.

Thistle and button get into an argument over whether they should try to save the village. He believes its too late to save anyone. Button unties herself with and arrow tip that was seeping out of her back pack. And says," Well , i do!". She unties Thistle and makes her way out of the cave.

Thistle sits there and sings a song thinking about his family and Button which gives him the courage to start running also.

He makes it to the village before the fern and his crew. And runs straight to his mom and warns her of whats happening. Before he can explain she starts off saying how he looks so different and brighter and why hes back early. After he explains, she tells branch of whats happening and puts everyone in the bunker. The villains make it to the village and one says, " well isnt this a nice beaut, its about to get a whole lot MESSIER!".

Fern is shocked to hear their plans of wrecking the village, he just wanted to be the new ruler in a world where trolls respected him. They tie him up. And the villain crowd together to think of the exact words on how to word out the wish. The leader gets up and points the gem outward "alright get ready for my wish to destroy the village" and at this second and arrow hits the gem and falls down the hill they were standing on and lands into the village. She and the villains start running to gem. Alas, branch grabs it. Poppy stands beside him. "Not today!". The villains look at him and scoff. "You think we were the only ones?". They gasp and turn around to find villainous trolls surrounding them. They fidget before the leader says " dont even think about saying no" and two trolls come out holding button. Thistle, who had been sitting on the side lines murmurs to himself," no this cant happen! No, no,no..!!" And starts running and startles the villains grabbing the gem. Suprizing everyone. Branch says," Son.... Dont..!".

Thistle looks at him with scrunched eyebrows,"i have to." The leader says with a slight panicked voice,"i wouldnt do that boy...!"

Thistle whispers to the gem ," i wish for this gem to be destroyed" . the gem floats into the air, shining brighter than anything they've ever seen and deteriorates into glitter falling to the ground. The light from the gem had flushed through the crowd causing them to have a slight amnesia and questioning "hey,why are we here?".

The trolls in the bunker come out celebrating. Buttons runs to Thistle and hugs him and he hugs back. Poppy and branch run to him. Saying things things like ,"what were u thinking you couldve got hurt?!". Thistle looks into his fathers eyes and replies," Because, i love you.". His parents both look back at him shocked. And slowly but surely from top to bottom his true colors fill in. A bright purple pink. His parents exclaim in happiness and branchs colors get brighter as well. They get excited,hugging and laughing and crying. Thistle points out Button who had wondered a little father to give him space with his parents and brings her into the hug. In which poppy winces," ughhh whats that smell???" And button moves to the side chuckling nervously. "Uhhh... Shes been homeless for awhile give her a break." And chuckles.

The purity troll comes out flowing from the sky to everyone saying how she thanks Thistle for awakening her from her slumber by destroying the gem and continues ,"Ive been asleep for sometime, now lets paRTY!!".

Then theirs the end song where everyone sings. The purity comes up to Thistle and aster and gives them crowns of flowers and robes. Everyone cheers. And we fade to black with a circle transition popping up of fern tide up, " Uhhh hey guys anyone here??? Can someone please tell me whats going on??!!!" And the screen goes black showing the rest of the credits.

These are just the main points. Of course Aster is more involved in the story. I just didnt wanna type all that down cuz i have a big phone and small hands haha.

But as for my trolls 3 au ... Its basically the generic set up of branch trying to propose to poppy throughout the film...and id like to add a backstory of his parents and them not actually being dead and survived escaping the bergins.

But anyways here are some of my character designs!!

Soundtrack ideas-

Aster design i havent yet finalised so yeahhhh but i plan on her having two ponytails!

#dreamworks trolls #poppy and branch #trolls the beat goes on #broppy #ttbgo #poppy #trolls #branch #ttbgo season 6 #trolls oc #trolls fanart #poppy trolls #trolls 2 #branch trolls #trolls fanfiction

[prettywordsyouleft]

Yellow Bells

Pairing: Kim Yugyeom x reader

Genre: florist au / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: this is for the lovely @mrkimyugyeom​ for her birthday today. Thanks to the anon the other day who mentioned the florist! concept, I realised it fits this present for my dear friend perfectly. Thank you for everything you have done for me over the last year, Nora! I’m so grateful for our friendship Xxx

Word count: 2136

“Are you sure you can manage on your own, Yugyeom?”

He nodded, ushering his parents eagerly to the exit of the store. “Mum, I’ve grown up in this shop. I’m pretty sure I know every type of flower in here from your little songs you sing as you care for them. Go, I can handle it for a week.”

“He’s right, darling. The florist will be here when we return from our vacation,” Yugyeom’s father assured, tugging his wife outside. She turned to look forlornly at Yugyeom.

Or, probably the row of baby azaleas behind him.

“Make sure you water-”

“I will and I’ll feed those in the tropical part and check the temperature for the lilies and honestly Mum, I can handle this.”

She reluctantly nodded, stretching to place a kiss on his cheek as she hugged him. He waved his parents off as they drove away for their first vacation alone since he was born over twenty years ago. And as soon as they were out of sight, he stepped back into the house of flora and slumped visibly.

Sure, he wanted his parents to have a good time. And he wasn’t exactly lying; he had spent more time within this florist growing up than in the apartment above it.

But Yugyeom wasn’t born possessing a green thumb like his parents. He was even somewhat affected by pollen and since his mother was deeply attached to her flower children, he had only minded the store a handful of times.

“I can do this,” he reaffirmed, nodding his head and slipping his hands deep within his pockets, eying the succulents’ table carefully. “We’ll do this together, right guys?”

He then grimaced, wondering how his mother could speak so fondly to everything in here without any problem. So, maybe he wouldn’t be singing the bushes down the back to sleep as he locked up later on.

But he’d at least be able to keep the store running for the next five days.

Hopefully.

The first day started well. Yugyeom followed the pages of instructions his mother left behind for him to follow, the step by step guide foolproof. He managed to serve a couple of customers and take an order for next week for an event when his mother would be back to make new intricate arrangements.

But that was where he was failing the most. Staring down at the stack of cut-offs lying on the decorative paper he had chosen, Yugyeom groaned out loud. There was no charm to the arrangement he had made. They all clashed and he knew even he wouldn’t buy this to give to anyone.

“You need a different colour palette to balance out all this pink,” you called and he glanced up, his breath getting caught in his throat.

You smiled politely and pointed to the flowers. “You have pink roses, pink tulips and pink carnations. Monochrome is nice but I think if you changed the carnations for a white, it would make the arrangement more interesting.”

“I can do white,” he slowly replied, soon grinning at you. “Thanks!”

“Anytime. I have an order to pick up under the name Y/N,” you stated and Yugyeom nodded, turning to the computer to look up the details, keeping you in his peripheral as he did so.

You glanced around mindlessly. “Mrs Kim isn’t around?”

“Nope, she’s on vacation this week.”

“Oh so you’re Yugyeom then,” you commented and he stopped looking up your order details, blinking rapidly at the fact that you knew his name. You chuckled. “Your Mum talks about you a lot.”

“Really? Are you sure you didn’t hear her say Yellow bells instead?”

You grinned. “I sense some jealousy here. The plants will be offended.”

“You really do know my mother,” he retorted with a breathy chuckle, hiking his thumb in the direction of the storeroom. “I’ll just get your order.”

He returned with a bag of fertiliser and some seeds, sliding them up onto the top of the free counter space. After ringing up your order and accepting your card, Yugyeom then held onto it a little longer than he should. You eyed his lack of action curiously.

“So white?”

You nodded. “White. Don’t stress too much, someone will buy them.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one jealous of flowers,” he teased when he handed back your card.

“Who knows, if it’s still here tomorrow, I might buy it.”

“You’ll be back tomorrow?”

Shrugging, you reached for your purchases. “Perhaps.”

Yugyeom waited for your return the following day. He had managed to empty out the clearance table to a kind elderly couple, stacked the new batch of supplies that arrived just before lunch and even got a start on another mediocre bouquet of flowers when the jingle of the bell over the door made him look up and find you walking inside. He dropped the roll of ribbon he had been fumbling with and then yelped when it landed on his foot.

You laughed. “And a hello to you as well, Yellow bells.”

“I’m going to regret saying that to you yesterday, aren’t I?” he grumbled, bending down to retrieve the ribbon. When he stood back up, you were holding his first arrangement. Yugyeom sighed. “You don’t have to.”

“Why not? I want to be the first person to have one of Yellow-”

“I swear, Y/N if you keep it up!” he cut in with a hearty laugh, your own soon joining his. When the moment was over, Yugyeom then waved you off. “You can have it.”

“Well, I plan on that.”

“No, I mean, for free.”

You grew curious. “Don’t businesses require financial backing?”

“They also require creativity and some sense of pride in their work. That sad bunch has neither. I can’t expect you to buy it.”

“I will. And I will continue to keep buying them until you have just that!”

“What did you say?”

“Ring it up for me, Yellow bells.”

By the fourth day of your regular appearances to the florist, Yugyeom was certain of two things. One, he really liked you. There was just something about you that captivated him and he wanted to talk to you endlessly. Even if it was all about the species of one plant family, he was certain he would listen to every word you said.

Secondly, he knew his mother was behind all this.

“She told you to come and check on her babies, didn’t she?” he asked pointedly when you appeared, looking rather inconspicuously at the indoor houseplants section.

“Who?”

“My mother,” he said and you smiled. “I knew she didn’t trust me!”

“She does actually, like I said, all she talks about is you, Yellow bells.”

He clamped his eyes closed momentarily to clear out the nickname that he was growing rather attached to and then rounded the counter, coming over to your side. “Then why are you turning up every day?”

“Have you made another arrangement yet?” you wondered and Yugyeom rubbed the back of his neck, nodding shyly. “Where is it?”

“It uh, it sold.”

You almost looked upset. “You’re kidding me! Then you’ve done it!”

“I think the old lady felt sorry for me. Something about going home to pretty it up in one of her fine vases.”

“Well, your colour choices are improving so you never know.”

“What’s the deal about you anyway? You always talk about colour.”

You grinned. “I study colour theory at the local university.”

“Huh.” Yugyeom moved over to look at a baby fern, inspecting its leaves. “You’re majoring in art?”

“Business management. I just take it as an extra paper.”

“What’s the end goal for you then?”

“Really?” you asked, biting at your bottom lip as you grinned. “Is Yellow bells interested in where I end up?”

“I’d laugh if it was a florist.” Your eyes sparkled as your lips twitched and Yugyeom gaped at you. “A florist?!”

“I’ve been helping your mother make changes to the business marketing part of the shop for three months now. So it would be this florist.”

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“You moved out, remember.”

“You know too much,” he breathed and you nudged him.

“Not everything.”

“Enough,” he lamented and moved back to the counter in a slump. “You’ll come and work for the family and then you’ll not see me for anything more than Yellow bells then.”

“Were you hoping I’d see you for more than that?” you questioned, unable to hide your intrigue.

“I’m glad the old lady bought the bouquet now.”

“You’ll just have to make me another one,” you concluded, heading towards the door. You stepped out, only to stick your head back around the corner. “Make sure it doesn’t sell before I get here again tomorrow.”

Yugyeom was discouraged. With the knowledge that you were being primed to join the family business, he couldn’t see how this would separate him enough from the son of your future employer. He barely said a word to any of the plants as he locked up that night and grunted in greeting the following morning. He only had to get through today. Tomorrow, his parents would be back and he would be able to return to his apartment downtown and forget all about the way you smiled whenever you called him your preferred nickname.

The day felt like it was dragging. He completed all the morning chores, ensuring the plants that needed watering or fed an enrichment mixture had been checked off his list before he approached the arrangement station. Yugyeom had gathered an assorted bunch of flowers earlier in the morning. There was nothing special to them, just cut-offs that didn’t seem to fit in with others. Together, however, they seemed aesthetically pleasing. Choosing to wrap them in simple brown paper to enhance their beauty, he placed the bouquet into the front stand, going back to working on some multi-coloured roses.

The doorbell jingled and he didn’t even look up. He knew it was you.

“Afternoon flower babies,” you called out, sounding just like his mother. He huffed petulantly, trimming off the excess stem of the rose he was readying for the arrangement. You were soon in front of him. But instead of greeting him with his nickname, you didn’t say anything.

Yugyeom looked up to see what was wrong, his eyes narrowing when he found you staring at something in awe. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You made this?”

“Oh them? Yeah, I felt sorry for them since they didn’t match with their other batches so I put them all together. It’s a bit wild, huh?”

“I love it,” you confessed shakily, blinking a few times. You then glanced up at him and he could see how moved you were. “It’s beautiful, Yugyeom.”

He was overwhelmed. He hadn’t expected this reaction to the bouquet, or within himself. Your words bounced around his insides, shooting off spikes of warmth. He was certain he was madly blushing and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh uh, well.”

“I can’t buy this,” you murmured, still clutching the bouquet despite your statement. Your eyes searched his and Yugyeom eventually grinned bashfully.

“Good, I can finally gift you some flowers, Y/N.”

“One of many bunches, I hope.”

“You forget, today’s my last day here.”

You faltered. “You don’t plan to visit?”

“Well, yeah I come and see my parents most weekends.”

“Then you can make me some flowers then.”

“You won’t be here every day, will you?” he wondered, trying not to stare at you too much. He felt there was more to what you were expressing and his palms started to sweat as he thought over what next to say. “You… you wouldn’t come here looking for me, would you?”

“I have every day this week, haven’t I?”

Yugyeom frowned. “That’s because of my mother’s-”

“Actually, she just asked me to come in on Wednesday. I was curious and couldn’t wait until then.”

“Curious about what?”

“You,” you confessed, burying your face into the flowers you held to hide your expression. You then gazed up at him once more at ease. “You’re kind of handsome, Yellow bells.”

He sighed heavily. “It was going so well.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t like it,” you mused and Yugyeom laughed.

“I’ll need to come up with a nickname for you then too,” he announced and you tilted your head to the side.

“You seemed so sure we wouldn’t be crossing paths after today.”

He grinned. “Didn’t you say I needed to make more flower arrangements?”

“I did.”

“Well, I’ve got some new ideas. I need to try them out when I come by. Since you’ll be here, after all.”

You seemed to bloom then, brightening up entirely. “Well Yellow bells, I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”

_________________

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