#else I think I’m gonna have to look at a different uni

[landitolover]

𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒄𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 part two | previous part ౨ৎ oscar x reader

WELCOME BACK TO DULCE HOTLINE!

enter your password: ***********

message list !

y/n l/n

lando norris

message y/n l/n?

yes > no

you have sent a message!

oscar

heyo

y/n l/n

hi oscar

sooo

ur famous.

oscar

uh yeah

is it gonna be a problem?

y/n l/n

not at all

😆

oscar

you don’t see me

any differently now?

y/n l/n

uhm

no?

i mean, you’re not taylor swift famous….

oscar

glad about that

must be a bit tiring being that famous

y/n l/n

i’d assume 🤔

if u don’t mind me asking

where do u live

oscar

the uk, for the most part

i travel lots though cause of my job

you?

y/n l/n

i’m living in france for a bit

with my two friends 😁

oscar

that’s nice

i like it over there

y/n l/n

yeah it’s quite alright

oscar

how long have you been

living in france?

y/n l/n

not too long

originally i just came here for a wedding

then my friend bought an apartment while she was drunk

oscar

how does one buy a whole ass apartment

while being drunk 😭

y/n l/n

honestly

i have zero clue

kinda funny tho

tell me more about yourself 🥸

oscar

well it’s my first season in formula one

i’m kinda awkward in person

i started karting when i was 10

i prefer dogs over cats

i like tim tams

sorry i don’t know what else to say……

y/n l/n

rookie season, wowie

i’m also awkward in person dw!!

karting at ten? woww i was eating chips on

my bed and watching austin & ally…

dogs over cats……… immediate no 🌝

tim tams are yummy

oscar

it’s your turn to tell me yourself

y/n l/n

okay okay uhm

I’m in uni atm

i have two cats named cinnamon and sugar

oscar

two cats?

y/n l/n

yes yes

oscar

oh! so uhm

how are u on this fine evening

y/n l/n

🌝🌝

very very good

you?

oscar

that’s good

i’m better now that I’m talking to you

y/n l/n

🫣

you’re a flirt, piastri

oscar

🤔🤔

maybe i am

but you like it, don’t you?

y/n l/n

i do

😵‍💫

oscar

i have to go now, sorry

bye :)

y/n l/n

bye oscar!

y/n ⛄️

guys

he wants me so bad ong

xienma 🛐

dulce hotline guy?

y/n ⛄️

yes yes

okay so

i know a bit more about him now

xienma 🛐

do tell

madeline 🤺

yes, tell us abt ur man!!

y/n ⛄️

okay so he’s an f1 driver for mclaren

so basically just cars??? it’s his rookie season

he started karting when he was 10

he loves tim tams

he prefers dogs over cats 🌝

madeline 🤺

that’s kinda boring

xienma 🛐

leave her man alone 🤓

but dogs over cats??

what ABOUT YOUR CHILDREN?????

madeline ⛄️

nah fr

he could POSSIBLY be the father of

cinnamon and sugar 🤔🤔🤔 if he likes

dogs more!!!

y/n ⛄️

dw guys

i can change him 🙏🏼

LOOK AT THIS GORGEOUS MAN

madeline 🤺

we’ve lost her to a man

xienma 🛐

aww he’s a cutie

i’m a ynoscar truther!!

madeline 🤺

i guess i’ll support u guys

just don’t let this be like ur old situationship

xienma 🛐

i second that

y/n ⛄️

i won’t guys, trust!!

he seems like a sweetheart

xienma 🛐

well, i hope everything will

work out for you guys 😁

just want u to be happy!

oscah 🦅

lando

norris

landoh 🤓

yes ?

oscah 🦅

i am so heavily attracted to her

landoh 🤓

dulce hotline girl???

oscah 🦅

obviously

look how beautiful she is

landoh 🤓

did you insta stalk her mate

….🌝

oscah 🦅

uhm

🤣🤣!!

maybe i did

she has two cats

cinnamon and sugar

landoh 🤓

wow mate

are you going to be a father to cats 😱

oscah 🦅

uhm no

i dunno

🤔🤔

landoh 🤓

how does she feel about like

you being famous

does she care?

oscah 🦅

no I don’t think so

she said i wasn’t “taylor swift level famous”

landoh 🤓

thank fuck you aren’t though

that’s good that she doesn’t really mind

about you being famous 🤔🤔

oscah 🦅

i agree

oh my god

oh my hod

landoh 🤓

what ????

oscah 🦅

she messaged me

oh mgmgod

-&;@2&;@?&2&/_*{+~£|¥_£|¥_

bye

bye

TALK TO U LATER

landoh 🤓

I’m actually SICK

seeing u obsess over a girl

this isn’t you babe 🥺🥺🥺

what happened to landoscar

😭😭💔💔

Read 15:00

WELCOME BACK TO DULCE HOTLINE !

YOU HAVE ONE MESSAGE

y/n l/n has sent you a message

y/n l/n

hi oscar 🤓🤓

oscar

y/n l/n

oscar

hi y/n :)

also, you’re sending me all these memes of myself

so does that mean i’m in your camera roll?

y/n l/n

woah

oh

yeah you kinda are.. taking over my camera roll

didn’t even realize

oscar

wow are you already obsessed with me?

y/n l/n

uhm

i don’t think so, piastri

maybe YOU’RE the one obsessed with me!!

oscar

are you trying to use reverse psychology?

clever girl

y/n l/n

clever girl?? i’m blushing

oscar

wasn’t my intention but i’m glad

bet u look cute

y/n l/n

you’re insane for saying that

lord.

oscar

sorry sorry

y/n l/n

yeah no it’s fine

just !

😵‍💫🤔

oscar

quick topic change..

you know why i prefer dogs over cats?

y/n l/n

hm no

why?

oscar

cause i’m scared of cats

y/n l/n

how could you be scared of this baby

oscar

okay well i’m not scared of your cat in specific

just other cats…

y/n l/n

oh so ur biased 🙄

oscar

yes

well

no?

maybe

y/n l/n

you’re never meeting my cats.

oscar

wait no

trust i’ll change for them

y/n l/n

you know what’s funny

you kinda look like a cat yourself

oscar

oh my god

wait

why do i kinda look like one

y/n l/n

oscar pastry is a cat confirmed

piastri***

oscar

🥐

i’m oscar pastry fr

y/n l/n

wowie 🤓

okay i’m gonna go eat now

#dinner time

oscar

alright, bye

have a nice meal

y/n l/n

byee!

y/n ⛄️

HIIIIIII GUYSSSS

xienma 🛐

someone’s happy

what’d he do now

y/n ⛄️

he’s just so

sooooo 😍😍

madeline 🤺

we lost her

she’s down deep

xienma 🛐

i think they’re cute idk

pretty good looking couple imo

y/n ⛄️

i think so too, i might be a little biased though…..

do u guys think that men obsess over

girls the way we obsess over them

like this better be him 🤣🤣🤣

xienma 🛐

GIRL 😭😭

madeleine 🤺

no cause real shit

i wonder if they get giggly n shit

y/n ⛄️

FORREAL U GET ME!!

madeleine 🤺

like do they just go :3 when we message them

xienma 🛐

totally

y/n ⛄️

he totally goes like that when i msg him

he’s so cat coded idk what to tell u guys

madeline 🤺

no wonder y u want him so bad

y/n ⛄️

🌝🌝

xienma 🛐

i’m ynoscar truther forever

madeline 🤺

they barely kno each other 😒😒

THEY MET ON A DATING APP

xienma 🛐

okay girl just cause your little situationship

didn’t work out, doesn’t mean u have to be a hater..!

madeline 🤺

don’t bring that shit up again……

yall fake

y/n ⛄️

woah man

I didn’t say anything

i’m eating dinner!!

and mad, what if he has a cute lil friend 🤫

i’ll set u up 🔥🔥

madeline 🤺

our wag era 😈

y/n ⛄️

ok bye i’m leaving

😴 nap time

xienma 🛐

dream abt oscar xx

Read 16:20

౨ৎ sorry i didn’t post anything about dulce hotline yesterday, i just couldn’t think of anything to write 😭 i might possibly do a double update, so keep a lookout for that!

taglist, @d6za1 @amoosarte @ch3rryknots @moneygramhaas @alessioayla @cherry-piee @chasing-liberosis if you wanna be added, please comment ౨ৎ

#౨ৎ dulce hotline #𓇼 landitolover #mini series #꩜ my writings #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x oc #formula one #formula one fanfiction #f1 #f1 fanfic #lando norris #smau #dating app #female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader

[0vereasy]

Life’s Creations and Love’s Manifestations - Dr. Ratio x Female Reader- Chapter 3

Summary: Your promotion as one of the heads of the Security Department at Herta’s Station was full of many headaches, one of the biggest being a visiting scholar from the Intelligentsia Guild, and delegate of the IPC, Dr. Ratio.

When you were forced to team up with him to solve several crises emerging at the Station, how will your tense relationship change? And what exactly is the Doctor hiding?

Taglist: @96jnie @boomie-123 @a2tral @ukiyo-ikigai @poemzcheng @kpopmenace143

Send me an ask, DM or comment to be added to the taglist!

ao3 link

Masterlist | Previous chapter

A/N: Happy New Year! Hope everyone had a fun New Year’s Eve - I spent mine in a way I think the reader would, drinking with friends. I’m officially back in Uni now, so updates will be slower (~1-3 updates a month) but my semester is lighter so I’m confident I’ll have the time to update. In other news, I officially finished pre-farming for Ratio! He’s gonna be the first character I max out traces for!

Chapter 3: Touch Deprival

“Question: Are you sure you are alright?” as usual, Screwllum’s voice was monotone and flat, sending no hints to reveal how he was feeling at the moment. Consequently, he had to express his feelings in other ways, rubbing your shoulders soothingly as you tinkered with the camera equipment in front of you, “Affirmation: it is your day off, you can easily save this task until tomorrow.”

You couldn’t have looked any more different from this morning, crop top and shorts now replaced with comfy sweatpants and a button-down white shirt which looked suspiciously similar to the one your robot companion wore under his suit jacket. Your back was pressed firmly against the front of his metallic body as you both sat on the floor in the Seclusion Zone in a room full of two things; plants and the little creatures that Ruan Mei abandoned after leaving the Space Station a few hours ago. A few of the little creatures hoped around freely, as if happy for the company, “Given all of this,” you gestured to the creatures around you, “we should’ve put cameras down here months ago,” you let yourself lean further back against your companion, savouring the feeling of his arms kneading your tense flesh, “might as well get it over with before someone else decides to run a fucked up experiment down here.”

He didn’t rebut the content of your statement itself, rather responding with a simple, “You did not answer my first question, dear,” his metallic hand trailed further down your back, massaging the space near your shoulder blade through the white shirt. You muffled a groan at the relief that shot through your body, a sign that had him continuing the motions with a firmer grip. You didn’t know how the robot managed to give the most amazing massages, but his hands were definitely missed whenever he was forced the leave the station. 

“I mean, as good as someone can be after almost dying a few hours ago, I guess,” your tone was neutral, your gaze and fingers focused on the security cameras in front of you, which you were attaching to camera mounds to place on the walls around the Seclusion Zone. You knew if you dared to look back at Screwllum, he would see through your words in an instant. His title as a genius wasn’t just for show after all, “I mean, it obviously was scary when it happened, but I can’t take up more of your time. Herta’s probably already out for my head after you left your meeting with her early.”

“Affirmation, I did not tell her the reason of my sudden departure,” he replied, one metallic hand drifting from your back to your face, tilting your head so that, even from in front of him, you two were forced to make eye contact, “It was hard not to abandon my work when you texted me to inform me you were using the bathtub in my room with no context,” he let his hand drift from your cheek to cup your chin, “I care about you, my dear. I don’t want you to push yourself.”

Ah, the bathtub. It was silly really, how someone like Screwllum, who couldn’t use a bathtub in the first place, had one in his quarters while you were stuck with a shitty shower with absolutely no water pressure. It just so happened that all the guest rooms in the Space Ship were equipt with bathtubs, and though Screwllum was a frequent visitor of the station, he had no official permanent quarters of his own, though, at this point, the Station staff just gave him the same room in the Space Station anyway, making that particular room his unofficial permanent quarters.

Of course, when you finished cleaning the incubator room in the Seclusion Zone, hands covered in smelly bug guts, you had abandoned your computer and water bottle in favour of taking the elevator to the floor housing the living quarters and used your FOB to unlock Screwllum’s room solely for the purpose of his bathtub. With your one-track mind on trying to get the smell of bug off of you, you had neglected to check your phone after sending Screwllum a text letting him know about your tub use, which ultimately led him to check on and fuss over you, a pattern of behaviour that was still ongoing now.

“And I appreciate your company, as always,” you flash him a smile, pushing the camera you were working on to the side so you could turn and face him, straddling your legs over his own. You pressed a brief kiss to his cheek before pushing your body against his own, sighing at the familiar feeling of his hands wrapping around you, “But you’ve been with me all afternoon; go take a few hours, finish your work,” you let your hands trail down his chest, shuddering at the cold feeling of his metallic frame below his suit, “I’ll be here when you’re done - remember, you still owe me dinner and drinks.”

“How could I forgot?” Screwllum chuckled as you pressed another kiss to his cheek, though he made no movement to leave. You both knew why; the answer hanging between the two of you, but remaining unspoken, as if you two were playing a game to see who could avoid bringing it up the longest. To avoid doing so, you snuggled yourself into his chest, inhaling the scent of his laundry detergent as he rubbed a cold hand up and down your back.

“Ahem,” Screwllum’s hand stopped moving at the sudden sound of another voice breaking the relative silence, albeit the irregular mewings of Ruan Mei’s cat-like creatures, in the room. You forced yourself to sit up, regretfully removing yourself from Screwllum’s arms to face the new presence in the room. “Sorry if I am… interrupting something,” as per usual, Dr. Ratio’s features were hidden by the alabaster head, leaving only his toned body on display to you and Screwllum, who exchanged looks as you moved to sit beside the robot.

“You are,” was your simple reply. You forced yourself to grab another security camera from the mess of items you had scatted on the floor around Screwllum and yourself, attaching it to the camera mound to control your anger at the Doctor’s presence, “You can go away now.”

“How rude, to think you would treat a delegate of the IPC like this,” he placed his hand to his chest in mock offence. You pictured his eyes rolling underneath the alabaster read to aid to the sarcasm radiating off of his body, “I expected more from you.”

Noticing your anger and lack of motivation to carry on the conversation, Screwllum allowed himself to speak, “I don’t believe we have been formally introduced,” he stood up, you frowning at him as he took a few steps forward, sticking a hand out to the Doctor, “I am Screwllum, number-”

“Number 76 of the Genius Society, ruler of Planet Screwllum, leader of the resistance against Rupert I,” Doctor Ratio rambled out the list of title, counting each on his fingers like a child may do when trying to solve a math problem, albeit the Doctor’s action was clearly mocking in nature, “Don’t patronize me, Mr. Screwllum. I work for the IPC, of course I am aware of your identity.” He huffed, removing the alabaster head to reveal his own features, hair slightly out of place due to the action. He looked unamused, crossing his arms with another dramatic huff.

“Affirmation; your tongue is as sharp as your looks, as I have heard, Doctor,” Screwllum’s tone was even, though he retracted his outreached hand, which had gone unanswered, plainly and obviously, making the tension in the air obvious.

You resisted the urge to groan in frustration, instead stating, “Why are you here, Mr. Ratio? I’m sure you have better things to do than lounge around in the Seclusion Zone all day,” you resisted the urge to smirk at him, “keep this up and I may just report you to your employer for time fraud - its not like you’re doing any work around here anyway.”

“You’re the one who told me to come here, remember?” he questioned, leaving your quip unanswered and raising an eyebrow. He sighed at the blank look at your face at his words, as if disappointed, “Pity, it was quite a dramatic comment, I would have suspected you to remember it. What was it again?” he put a hand to his chin as if in thought, though the mocking smile told you the words were already committed to his memory, “Ah, yes, ‘We are definitely having a chat about this later’ that it.”

“Yeah, later, as in not now,” you said drily, pointing to the army of cameras surrounding you, “I’m clearly busy.”

“I seem to recall that you entertained a conversation with me just fine earlier today when you were also busy,” he sighed dramatically, leaning against one of the tubes full of plants cultivated by Ruan Mei, “I suppose idiots truly can only multitask for so long during the day; pity, I truly enjoyed our conversations.”

You opened your mouth, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but were silenced when Screwllum spoke first, “I do not mean to interrupt,” he spoke, glancing between you and the Doctor curiously, “However, I do need to depart to a meeting,” he turned from the Doctor, walking to where you sat and placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “My dear, don’t you think allowing Mr. Ratio to accompany you may allow you to finish this task quicker? I’d hate for you to waste more time on this venture.”

Screwllum’s shining green eyes bore into yours, almost as if he was daring you to rebut him. You knew what he was playing at as he rubbed familiar, soothing circles into your flesh. It was another silent dare, for you to bring up what you knew was on both of your minds. Of course, you didn’t, an action you knew that your companion expected. Your eyes drifted briefly to the Doctor, who was watching you two curiously as if you were a math problem that he couldn’t quite solve. 

“Fine, fine,” you relented, putting your hands in the air in mock defeat, meeting the Doctor’s eye, “I’ll let you stay, only if you help me put up these cameras once they’re ready.” You hated the smug look on the Doctor’s face at your words as if he had emerged victorious from the exchange somehow, his hands moving from being crossed at his chest to instead resting on his hips like some sort of superhero. 

“Quite bold of you to ask a mere visitor to help you with such a menial task,” he started, though he walked towards you and Screwllum nonetheless, “However, if you insist, I suppose I can help. The Station will benefit from my adept hand, after all.”

“Ah, yes, I can already hear Lady Asta gasping in pleasure when she see’s your expert camera placement,” you rolled your eyes as you shoved another camera into its mound, earning a glare from the Doctor. Once again, Screwllum saved the day, breaking the silence before he could retort.

“With that settled, I will take my leave now,” he gave your shoulder a small squeeze, your eyes transfixed on the Doctor, whose eyes were equally as focused on the small act of intimacy, “Conclusion, I will see you later tonight, my dear.” He let his metallic hand remove itself from your shoulder after being sure to give it one last squeeze.

“Can’t wait!” you smiled at him, dragging your eyes away from the Doctor to watch your companion retreat, keeping your focus on his form until he was completely out of your sight, before you reluctantly dragged your eyes back to the Doctor. He stood a few feet away from you, as if unsure exactly where to go or what to do. You huffed at his reactions, “What, does a genius like yourself not know how to socially interact with people? Sit down already!”

“You must forgive me, the IPC doesn’t provide lessons on social etiquette regarding sitting on the floor,” he replied drily, awkwardly taking a seat next to you on the cold metal floor of the Space Station, his eyes looking over you as you continued your work with the cameras, “We sit in chairs, like civilized people. I do not understand your logic of working here.”

“Come on, Doc, live a little, sitting on the floor never killed anyone,” you shrugged, your voice light, but lacking the usual passion you preferred to give to your retorts. Too tired to really care, you ignored his gaze to continue your work, “Plus, it’s easier to work here anyway, saves me lugging cameras around later.”

“I must say, you lack your usual passion that you provide to our oh-so-delightful conversations” he scanned the immediate surroundings as if searching for something, “Is this what you’re like sober? I dare say you make a much more entertaining conversationalist when you are slightly tipsy.” It’s only then that you realized he held a bottle of wine in his hand, a brand you didn’t recognize, “Drink then, so we can speak like intellectuals.”

“Wow, aiding my alcoholism? You must be in a good mood,” you raised an eyebrow in suspicion, though you were quick the grab the opened bottle anyway, taking a few large gulps of the wine. It was a dry wine, definitely not your favourite, but it was strong, the red liquid burning your throat as you swallowed. 

“You could at least pour yourself a glass first,” the Doctor shot you a glare, grabbing the bottle to wipe away the stain of your lipgloss at the opening, “I’m beginning to suspect you have no concept of manners.”

“Do you see any glasses around here?” you retorted, both you and the Doctor looking around the room, the only signs of objects other than cameras or plants being Ruan Mei’s little cat-like creatures. That seemed to be enough to shut up the doctor, at least briefly, as he spent the next few minutes watching you construct cameras and drink wine in silence. Of course, though, the Doctor could only stand to exist without hearing his voice for so long, leading him to break the silence.

“You did not answer my earlier question,” he replied, voice even, though containing less of an annoying edge than usual. Aeons, what was it with these men and their persistence to get an answer out of you today, “Why are you colder than usual?”

You shot him a glare, standing up from the floor in anger, as if you wanted to punch him right then and there. Of course you didn’t, instead allowing yourself to pace the room, a few of the cat-like creatures hopping alongside you as you did, “You really have to ask me that? And you call yourself a member of the Intelligensia Guild?” you scoffed, pausing your pacing to stare him down directly, thriving in the way he squirmed slightly in his uncomfortable seat on the floor, “Not only did you use your stupid looks to sneak into the Seclusion Zone, but you witnessed Ruan Mei’s psychotic experiment, knew what was going to happen, but didn’t tell anyone about it, instead basically sending myself and the Trailblazer to our impending doom!” Your words were cold, harsh, streaming out like a river, as if you couldn’t hold them back any longer, “I know were not exactly friendly, but holy fuck, draw the line somewhere, right?”

He held his hands out in front of him, arm muscles flexing as he did so, “I understand you are upset, however-”

“Upset?” you scoffed, a sarcastic laugh leaving your lips, “Wrong, I’m pissed off! Is my life a joke to you? A few more seconds of fighting that stupid thing and I wouldn’t be here right now!” you pointed an accusatory finger at him, “Imagine if we did die, huh? Were you just goint to lounge around the Space Station as if you didn’t send us to death without the tinest warning? Or were you going to celebrate since I was finally out of your hair?”

“I wouldn’t have let you die,” he replied, tone cold, disappointed even, as if you were in the wrong for claiming he would do such a thing, “I’m sure you noticed that I returned to the Seclusion Zone before you left.” You had noticed. Of course, you did. You had been forced to halt your cleaning job temporarily to get the Trailblazer back to the Storage Zone. Mysteriously, despite the Trailblazer never having pressed the button for the elevator, the elevator was awaiting your arrival, as if the previous user had taken it downwards to the Seclusion Zone, despite you having seen the Doctor taking it upwards before you headed off to your impending doom. The Doctor took your silence as acknowledgement, “I was prepared to aid the two of you in defeating the creature if required.”

You didn’t speak for a moment, processing the new information to add on to what you already knew. You weren’t sure of what to make of the elevator incident til now, not knowing if the Doctor came to help you or mock you. Somehow, you found the later to be more preferable than the reality. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you rebutted, sitting down on the floor again, keeping a few feet distance between you and the Doctor, “Knowing that you could help me defeat a monster that you failed to tell me about in the first place?”

The Doctor sighed dramatically as if he was a child caught stealing from a cookie jar, before beginning to speak, “I… apologize for my actions,” despite his extravagant sentiments before speaking, his words were surprisingly genuine, his usually snobby voice reduced to a volume barely above a whisper, “I was confident in your ability to hold off the creature, however I should have told you about the threat it posed… I am sorry.”

You blinked dumbly a few times before bursting out into laughter, scootching closer towards the Doctor to grab the wine bottle, taking a swig between your giggles, “Wow, it’s that easy to elicit an apology out of you, Doc?” you smirked, “I should’ve recorded that shit, ahhh it was so satisfying!” 

“You-” he glared at you, yanking the bottle out of your hands in anger, “Were you faking that temper tantrum the whole time? Are you capable of holding any conversation without emotional manipulation?” You continued to giggle, laughs only edged on by the warmth rising to the Doctor’s cheeks, which he tried to hide with his hands.

“I mean, I was, and am still upset,” you shrugged, snatching the bottle again from where he placed it on the floor to take another swig, sighing at the taste as you pulled the bottle away from your lips “But, why would I let that get in the way of me teasing you?” she mused, “Maybe I should’ve took it further, hmm? Waited until you got down on your knees and begged for my forgiveness before-”

“Enough of this insolence!” he exclaimed, an angry blush on his clear skin, “I have never met someone with so much gull; someone so infuriating!” he again snatched the wine away from you, though he failed to take a sip from the bottle.

“Hey, hey, you deserved all that after what you put me through today!” you pointed an accusatory finger at him before standing up from the floor, “Now come on, Doc, these cameras aren’t gonna put themselves up, huh?” you grabbed two of the cameras from their resting place on the floor, gesturing for the Doctor to do the same.

“And why would I help you exactly?” he questioned, crossing his arms across his chest, “may I remind you that I am your guest? If anything, you should be grovelling to me to fulfil my every wish.”

“You would like me on my knee for you, huh?” you teased, raising your eyebrows suggestively, causing the Doctor to open his mouth in rebut, though you were quick to cut him off before he could speak, “But you told Screwllum you would help, so too bad.” He sighed incredulously at your words.

“That was before you tricked me into apologizing and embarrassed me!’ he retorted, breathing heavily, as if relieved to finally let a retort escape his lips.

“Embarressed you in front of who exactly?” you cocked an eyebrow, looking between the Doctor and Ruan Mei’s creatures, “I don’t exactly think they’re the type to spread gossip ya know?” The Doctor and you watched as the creatures continued to jump around aimlessly, “So come on already, the sooner we do this the sooner we can leave each other alone.” The Doctor sighed, though he picked up two cameras nonetheless, trailing after you as you made your way through the Seclusion Zone. Your first step was the area overlooking the primary home of Ruan Mei’s creations, who seemed to longue by a toilet-like device nearby to where you were sitting. You easily began positioning a camera at the corner of the wall a few feet away from the toilet, allowing the device to display a view of the whole area.

“May I remind you that I have no loyalty to the Genius Society; I do not owe Screwllum my word, nor do I owe you anything,” the Doctor rebutted after a few moments of silence, as if he had been thinking of the retort, “However, I will help you this time out of the kindness of my heart.”

“Wow, isn’t this amiracle,” you ensured the camera was at least partly secure before turning to face him, placing a mocking hand to your chest, “The asshole Doctor caring for others? I’ll make sure to remember this moment; make sure to have your ghost writer reach out to me for your next autobiography so that I can tell them all the wonderful times we had together!”

“You read my autobiography?” he raised an eyebrow at you, though you didn’t notice due to your back once again being turned to him. You sensed the change in his tone though; less snarky and self-centered and more teasing, “I never knew how much of a fan you were; you should have told me Ms. Y/N, I would have gladly signed something for you.” You finished positioning the camera, turning to glare at the mocking smile on the Doctor’s face, “Is your propensity to teast me related to your infatuation with my work? It would explain why you make it you life’s mission to cause me strife; its akin to a child pulling their crushes hair on the playground!”

You scoffed, the Doctor trailing after you as you walked to the other side of the room near some plants that had been cultivated in the Seclusion Zone, and near a place where a few other of Ruan Mei’s creations had been lounging. The creatures were quick to give you some space to position the camera, “You wish, Doctor, I just find your reactions amusing,” you mused as you fiddled with the camera, “Screwllum lent me the book; I’ve got to say, eight doctorial degrees? Like holy shiy, at what could you’ve possibly learned in the eighth that you didn’t already learn in the seventh?”

A moment of silence passed again, you figured because the Doctor was looking to retort again. You weren't complaining though, the silence allowed you time to realize how fuzzy your head was becoming from the wine, and allowed you to find a suitable spot on the opposite side of the room near a staircase to plant another camera. You briefly glanced at the Doctor as you grabbed one of the cameras from his hand, earning no notable reaction. With a shrug, you tuned and began to position the device before the Doctor spoke again, “If I may be so bold… what exactly is your relationship with… Mr. Screwllum?”

“Huh?” you weren’t expecting that question, nearly dropping the unsecured camera, which you barely managed to pick up before it hit the ground. You turned to face him, as if searching his face for the intention behind his words, “What, you’re worried I’m taken? I’m flattered, Doctor, this is the second time today you’ve implied you wanted me to worship you on my knees. You sure don’t hold back on your kinks, huh?”

“Are you capable of responding to anything seriously” he exclaimed awkwardly, brushing off your attempt to deflect the situation. His eyes scanned your figure, taking in Screwllum’s button-down shirt that trailed down to the top of your upper thigh, “You clearly have… some romantic relationship with each other. I am merely curious how a man of his standing has the ability to put up with someone like you.”

“Believe it or not, I’m quite a pleasurable person to be around, you just bring out the worst in me, Doc,” you joked, pondering if you should place the camera or focus on the Doctor, but opted for the latter after you determined your next words, “The relationship Screwllum and I have is pretty simple - were just fuck buddies.”

You weren’t exactly sure how the Doctor would react to that information, though you would have never expected the mere word ‘fuck’ would cause him to open his mouth like a fish, sputtering as if he was speechless, his face red with embarrassment, “W-What?”

“What, eight doctorial degrees and you don’t know what the term fuck buddies is?” you cocked an eyebrow, a smirk growing it’s way on your features, “Ya know, friends with benefits, a situationship, meaningless sex, booty call-”

“I understand the concept!” the Doctor practically shouted, as if begging you to shut up, his face growing redder, “I just cannot comprehend how someone like him would be in a… sexual relationship with someone like you.”

“What, like you can’t picture how we do it?” you questioned teasingly, curving your middle and pointed finger in a ‘come here’ motion, “Come on, use your imagination, Doc! I’ll let you know that Screwllum is great with his fingers!”

Your actions only seemed to spiral the Doctor further into an embarrassed mess, one of his hands moving to attempt to hide the heat on his cheeks, “That is not what I meant,” he sighed, frustrated, “I merely wish to understand how one of the most notable men in the universe ended up being close to a mere security guard.”

“Oh,” you shrugged, turning away now to refocus on the camera, “I mean, that’s nothing special really if I had to be honest. Screwllum visits pretty often, so naturally we ended up talking at some point,” you looked over your shoulder at the Doctor, “Plus, haven’t you seen him? Dude’s smoking hot, of course I’d flirt with him after we got to know each other. It’s as simple as that.” By the strange look the Doctor was giving you, you were pretty sure he didn’t share your enthusiasm regarding the attractiveness of robots, not that it really mattered - more for you to have after all. 

“And yet you’re not dating,” the Doctor commented, trailing after you again as you once again wandered around the room to the wall opposite the stars to put up another camera. You barely glanced at him this time as you grabbed the last camera from him, quickly turning away. 

“We're not dating,” you kept your tone as casual as you could, focusing your attention on positioning the camera on the wall. You doubted the Doctor was the best at picking up on emotional cues, but you wanted to be safe nonetheless by avoiding his questioning gaze.

“I see,” he spoke simply before continuing, “I suppose that’s self-explanatory,” he commented offhandedly as you continued to avoid his gaze while focusing ion your work, “You don’t seem like the type to commit to a long term relationship; both you and Screwllum must have greater satisfaction with this… arrangement.”

God, if he was going to make you talk more about your sex life, you definitely would need more wine in your system, “Ah, Doctor, falling into assumptions of character?” you murmured as you secured the camera, “I expected more from your eight doctorate degrees.” Not seeing a way out of the inevitable, you half-hazardously finished placing the camera before wandering back towards the wine to take a swig, the Doctor once again on your heels.

“I do not understand your assertion,” he watched you impatiently as you took some swigs, the bottle nearly drained before you forced yourself to stop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You were quick to grab two more cameras, motioning the Doctor to follow you once he grabbed two more of his own.

“... I was not the one who suggested our relationship be casual. It was Screwllum,” you once again kept your tone even as the Doctor followed you up the first flight of stairs, where you decided to place a camera beside the door to an experimental room. You looked at the Doctor over your shoulder after a moment of silence, “What, no witty remark for that one, Doctor?”

“I am merely confused,” he confessed, his tone curious. You preferred him more when he was mocking you, “I must admit, I am not familiar with your relationship with Screwllum, but he clearly showed care for you earlier.” Your mind wandered back to the robot, his touch on your skin, his reluctance to leave, the way his fingers expertly massaged your flesh, the way you were straddlingly him when the Doctor had found you. You shoke your head, as if to brush the memories away.

“That’s the thing,” you commented with a shrug, turning to face the Doctor now that the camera was secure to the wall, “At the end of the day, Screwllum will never seriously date someone because of who he is,” you shrugged, as if speaking those words didn’t pain you, “I obviously see him as someone extraordinary who is honestly a lot kinder than a lot of humans I know,” your eyes trailed down to the ground floor, eyeing Ruan Mei’s creations, “But at the end of the day, he’ll always be scared that he can never truly love me because he’s a machine,” you admitted, “Screwllum doesn’t think he’s capable of genuine love, so he won’t get himself in a situation where someone feels that way about him on a deeper level.”

“And yet you have feelings for him,” the Doctor commented as you walked into the experimental room after the first flight of stairs, placing another camera on the other side of the door. Your mind was foggy now with the wine, as if you knew you should stop talking but couldn’t. Maybe one of the Doctor’s degrees was in psychology, considering he seemed to know exactly how to make you spill your inner demons. 

“I think I did at one time,” you said honestly, “But I accepted that whatever I wanted with him won’t ever occur, and I moved on.” With the camera secure, you turned to face the Doctor, “You’re awfully curious about my failed love life, huh? What ‘bout you? Some cute chick waiting back at the University of Veritas Prime?”

“I have no time for romance,” he spoke plainly, crossing his arms over his chest disinterestedly, “There are much more pressing matters for someone of my standing to deal with than something a fickle as a relationship.”

“Spoken like a true virgin,” you clasped your hands together with a mocking smile, “How sweet, Doctor,” you turned away from him, the Doctor again trailing after you as you left the room and walked up the second flight of stairs, “Though, honestly, if I had to deal with your attitude everyday, I wouldn’t fuck you either. I’m sure hearing your voice day after day everyday while getting a degree would be enough to drive me to drop out. I pity all the women who had to deal with you year after year.”

“Very funny,” he spoke, sarcasm dripping from his tone, “Unfortunately for you and myself, many women have the propensity to throw themselves at me,” he sighed, as if recalling the incidents, “They are dull minded and not worthy my time, attention, or energy.”

“Hmm, curious,” you commented, unceremoniously climbing on top of a few metal boxes at the top of the stair case to reach an adequate area on the wall for your camera, “And yet you seem to always find me for some obnoxious conversation? Does that make me special?” you turned, smirking over your shoulder.

“We simply keep running into each other, you are not special,” the Doctor brushed off your comment, shooting you a judgemental stare as you descended from one pile of boxes to make your way to another file on the opposite side of the landing, grabbing the last camera from his hands before climbing up the boxes again.

“Awww, don’t be shy, Doc,” you teased, eyes focused on the camera instead of him, “You know there’s more to it - you’re the one who sought me out this time, after all,” you looked over your shoulder once the camera was secure, “If you’re falling for me, might as well tell me now so I can reject you before it’s too late.”

You turned back to the camera, one foot taking a step back so you could better check the accuracy of the angle. You gasped when your foot felt nothing to rest on, flailing your arms as your body began to fall backwards, cursing the stupid wine as you did so. Through your drunken haze, your mind attempted to think of any solution to get yourself out of this situation, though any logic snapped away when you felt him.

Doctor Ratio was quick to react, arms wrapping around your waist as your body fell, pulling you away from the boxes and closer to him. He made a small grunting noise as your body collided with his chest, his warmth surrounding you as he pulled you close to him. In his arms, you truly realized the extent of his physique, feeling the muscles in his chest against your back, and truly acknowledging the size of his arms as he held you against him. His body was hot, almost unbearably so, your body used to the cold metallic arms of your usual partner. It was comforting though; as if you were wrapped in a blanket. What overwhelmed you most, though, was his scent. His clothes smelt clean, as if they were fresh from the laundry, giving him a soft smell, a harsh contrast to his more harsh figure. However, as if to cover the softness up, there was a hint of cologne, nothing too strong but definitely something there that tickled your nose as you inhaled the musky scent. His breath tickled your exposed neck as he breathed, giving you goosebumps despite the overwhelming scent surrounding you.

“If anything, it seems as if you are the one falling for me,” he whispered into your ear, voice lacking its usual arrogance, replaced by something you wanted to label as flirtatious, but were afraid to do so. He chuckled at your lack of response, “It does feel nice to finally have you at a loss of words - as if I’ve finally reached a checkmate against one of my opponents. 

“No wonder women don’t like you,” you forced yourself to speak, voice lacking the confidence you wanted it to possess, “you just see them like chess pieces - a game to you.”

“I can reassure you, you’re the only one entertaining enough to resemble a challenge,” he laughed, making sure your feet were on the ground before he moved to release you. Your head was practically spinning then, a mix of the alcohol, closeness to the Doctor and some resemblance of dignity that was now absence after your tumble. You immediately felt cold at the absence of your skin, a feeling you usually were okay with. But now… now all you were craving seemed to be heat. 

He let out a yelp when you pulled his body back to yours, your back against his chest again, “Aeons, this is embarrassing,” you muttered, before turning your head to look at him, “...but can you hold me a little longer?” He hesitated slightly, looking you in the eye as if to see if you were testing him somehow. When you merely stared back at him, no hint of a smirk on your features, he sighed, moving his arms to adjust to your body again. You sighed in relief at the feeling of his arms wrap around your waist again, resisting the urge to nuzzle back against him.

“How drunk are you exactly?” he groaned in annoyance against you, though he didn’t make a move to leave your side, “This type of behaviour is ridiculous, even for someone as idiotic as yourself.”

“It’s not my fault that I want some comfort!” you defended, words slightly slurred now from the alcohol “You try fighting some stupid mutant bug and washing bug guts off yourself for two hours, and get back to me about how you feel!” you huffed, forcing yourself to move away from him, “Just forget it, let’s go grab more cameras and-” You gasped when he pulled you back towards him again, this time picking you up bridal style. The feeling of his strong arms against your legs made your shudder, the less PG part of your mind wondering how they would feel in more skin tight pants compared to the sweats you wore now,  “What the hell are you doing, put me down!”

“As if I’d let you walk after you almost cracked your skull open,” he scoffed, descending the stairs with you in his arms, his demeanour completely normal despite your weight in his arms, “Though I must say, your comments do make your behaviour this evening much more understandable.”

“I’m not some stupid puzzle for you to try to solve, bastard,” you resisted the urge to flail your way out of his arms, not wanting to fall on your ass again today.

He ignored your protests, continuing to speak, “I have to say, my intentions of asking about Screwllum were to try and dissect the curious behaviour you too displayed,” he began, descending the second flight of stairs, “If there truly is no romantic feelings between you two, why did he hesitate to leave? Why did he continue to touch you for as long as possible.” The Doctor carefully placed you down on the floor near the cameras before placing his hands on his hips, not batting an eye as you reached towards the wine, “It makes sense now; the anger, the reluctance to be alone, the mentions of fighting to the death.” He paused for a moment as if adding dramatic effect.

“You were scared. You don’t want to be alone. You want someone to comfort you - it is the only thing I can hypothesize behind Screwllum’s motives to suggest I remain here with you after he depart - he was worried about you.”

You downed the rest of the wine, bottle now empty as you placed it down, “Why do you have to be so smart? It’s annoying,” you murmured, the bottle falling to the ground as you failed to place it down properly, “So what if I wanna little comfort after almost dying, isn’t that normal?”

“And why, exactly, do you want this comfort from me?” he asked, cocking a curious eyebrow at you. 

It was a question you asked yourself too - why him? In all honesty, your two, now three, interactions with the Doctor had all been a pain in your ass, keeping you from doing something else that you wanted to do to deal with tiring conversation with some pompous asshole who had no desire to do anything but insult you… Yet you had to admit, the conversations were fun after all. Compared to the other people you surrounded yourself with at the Space Station, Doctor Ratio was new; exciting. He wasn’t afraid to poke your buttons to see what response he would get, something that you couldn’t really say about any of the other researchers. You supposed to closest thing was Herta, but even she couldn’t be bothered to talk to people most days, too focused on the damned Simulated Universe to give a shit about you. That was it - it had to be. You were craving something, or rather someone, who could challenge you, and it just so happened that this Doctor could.

…Not that you were going to tell him that, though. 

“I don’t exactly got a lot’a options here,” you gestured at the room, the only surroundings being Ruan Mei’s creations, “What, am I gonna rant to a stupid cat thingy about my fear of death?”

“You could have saved the rant for Screwllum,” the Doctor commented, eyes flickering from you to the empty wine bottle, “But you instead agreed to rant to me - you are smarter than to make excuses for your actions.”

You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest, “Aeons, and you say I’m the emotionally manipulative one - how did your stupid fancy University teach you to get information out of people so easily,” she sighed in defeat, “I’m not the type of person who wants to reflect on my emotions, and you’re the type of person to give me a distraction, that’s all there is to it.”

“I see,” the Doctor smirked, confidently sitting down beside you on the floor cross-legged, his knee briefly touching yours as he readjusted, “I’ve got to say, this sudden confession of your feelings towards me has me flustered. Perhaps it is you who wants to grovel at my feet, despite you suggesting the reverse.”

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you groaned, wishing you had more wine to drown your sorrows in. You attempted to stand up, extremely wobbly on your feet, “Lets put the rest of these stupid cameras up so I can get the hell out of this place.”

The Doctor grabbed your wrist as if to steady you, though the action didn’t seem to cure the wobble of your figure, “You’re clearly not in the condition to continue working. Why don’t you rest here and continue work later…” he trailed off, as if thinking how to finish his sentence, “...when you’re not stumbling around like a light weight.”

“Lightweight!” you exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “You try drinking a bottle of wine and see how you act!” The Doctor ignored your words, gently pulling you to the ground, placing one of his muscular arms around your waist, as if to prevent your escape.

“Just go to bed, the Station will be better off for a while without you stumbling around down here,” he stated bluntly, repositioning you so that you could rest your head on his chest, the rest of your body curled up beside him.

“At least let me sleep in my room,” you groaned, wiggling against his grip, “No offence, but my bed is a lot comfier than you’re stupidly buff chest.” He snorted slightly at the comment, arm still firmly holding you in place.

“You can barely walk,” he reminded you, “And I do not think either of us would benefit from the rumours that would result from me carrying you towards your room,” you could practically hear the gossip now - its not like researchers had much better to do than start baseless rumours anyway. 

“Ugh, you’re so stupid, Doctor,” you mumbled, accepting your fate and shifting your body slightly to get more comfortable, “You and you’re stupid eight Doctorate degrees, why are you so fucking frustrating?”

“Veritas,” he said softly, making you open your tired eyes to look at him. He gazed down at your figure from where you on his lap, “My name is Veritas. If we are going to be familiar enough to do… whatever this is, you may as well call me by my first name.”

“Veritas,” you tested the name on your lips, “First telling me to sleep on you, and then telling me your first name? What’s next, a marriage proposal?”

“Just shut up and sleep,” he huffed, holding you against his chest, letting you rest your body weight on him completely. You could hear his heartbeat as you rested there, a sound so unfamiliar to you considering your usual cuddling partners. However, somehow the rhythmic thumping was relaxing - a sign of life that showed you that there was someone by your side. It scared away any thoughts of that Aeon-forsaken bug that threatened to invade your mind.

“Dr- Veritas,” you corrected yourself sleepily, “You’ll stay with me, right?” your words were muffled as you spoke into his chest, eyes fluttering with the sleep that already wanted to flow over you.

“It is not like I have much of a choice given our current predicament,” he sighed, though his grip did not loosen on you. You smiled at his words, though your mind briefly wandered away for a second.

“I wanted to ask you,” you said softly, “Early today, you told the Trailblazer that you stumbled upon Ruan Mei’s research after coming down here for your own purposes…” you mumbled, forcing yourself to finish the question despite the desire to sleep, “...Why exactly were you down here in the first place?”

He was silent for a moment, though it was so brief that you wondered if you had made it up, “I will tell you when you awake, I promise.” You nodded, tired mind finding some sort of solace in his words, allowing you to finally let sleep overtake you.

It's only when you wake up the next day, Screwllum shaking your arm urgently, that you realize the Doctor went back on his word.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai starrail #honkai starrail x reader #doctor ratio #doctor ratio x reader #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #screwllum x reader #screwllum

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts IV

A/N: hello my loves this final part to this fic completes the birth of one of my favourite fics I’ve written. Thank you for reading and enjoying it just as much—every like, comment, and dm meant the world <3

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

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We have an extra day in Barcelona and the team is buzzing to enjoy their nightlife since we could sleep all day tomorrow. I’d visited here while I was a uni student so I give some suggestions.

Harry’s a little on edge the whole time. Earlier today some headline from a musician Harry worked with was taken out of context and thus took the internet by storm. Now he was being flooded with people wanting to know his thoughts and feelings. It was a hot topic.

With a joint effort of me, Jeff, and Graham, we tried to keep the spotlight on his Barcelona show. Well my role was mostly to screen Harry from seeing any further discourse online.

The show itself was one of the loudest I’d been to—I was glad I had my own ear protection. The tense Harry falls away and he’s electric on stage. Even coming backstage he’s on a high; he hugs the crew and thanks everyone like he usually did at the end of shows and disappears into his dressing room with Jeff. They look like they’re talking intensely.

“So,” Sarah slides in beside me. “We noticed you’re a bit different coming back. What’s happened?”

I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.

“Me and my fiancé ended things,” I confess. They gasp, Claire’s eyes actually fill with tears.

“Shh!” I shush them. “Keep it on the down low please I don’t want anyone to know.”

“But y/n why are you even here!? Is it because of tour! I’m sure Harry could have rearranged things-“

“No no,” I appreciated their support but I didn’t want to hash things out. “It’s just…I think it was a long time coming. God, I don’t wanna cry. I’m good. For now. And I want to be on tour I need the distraction.”

“I get it,” they sympathize. “We’re gonna make you forget so hard tonight.”

“Okay but don’t,” I look around us to make sure there was nobody else around. “Please don’t tell Harry. Seriously please. I don’t want him to know especially. I don’t want him to treat me differently or something.”

“Lips are sealed.” Sarah zips her mouth. “But we can all tell you’re off. It’s hard not to practically living together these last couple months. If he asks we’ll say…”

“Just say she’s on a break?” Charlie suggests.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “Things are complicated, I’m on a break, whatever that’s fine.”

The girls lean towards me and envelop me in a hug. It reminds me of my friends I’d said goodbye to.

“Thanks,” I say through tears.

And the girls hold me to their promise.

After we get dressed for the night—I chose a corset-style top and trousers—we head out. The sun dips below the horizon and the old city is cast in a warm orange glow that could inspire anyone who set eyes on it. String lights come on and music plays from various doors; the city is alive.

We tease each other about looking so glam as we wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Aside from the shows we all wore sweats and tees.

Every place we pass sets my senses alight. We grab tapas from a place that smells irresistible and chat over each other about tonight’s wicked show. I continue avoiding Harry by sitting as far away from him as I can get.

As we wander off in search of the club I can’t help but feel a twinge at how incredibly romantic the moonlit streets felt.

The club is loud and alive, the noise levels even feel normal after the roar of the last few of Harry’s shows. My mood starts shooting up steadily as I drink in the energy around me.

We join the crowd and I give away my worries and my annoyances to enjoy the music. I feel it in my chest and for a blissful moment I’m grateful for my whole damn life despite everything.

“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.

Charlie nudges me to one of the guys dancing nearby. “Get distracted!”

I shake my head no.

“Do it!” She cheers. It barely travels to me. She grabs Claire’s hand and tugs her, letting her in on the plan and they goad me into going for it.

I motion a drink. I’d need another shot for the courage.

We trail back to the bar and do a round of shots, and they grin with thumbs up as I hesitantly enter the crowd again.

The dude they pointed out is tall and beautiful. Like beautiful not even handsome. I get stuck looking up at him in awe, he wasn’t really my type. A tad too pretty boy but when he notices me looking he smiles and I’m won over. I couldn’t deny a good smile.

“Hey!” He turns his body to me. At least I think he say hey.

“Hey!” I shout back.

“Que pasa?”

“What?!” I couldn’t hear a single thing. What did I expect.

He smiles and takes my hand that had been anxiously playing with the edge of my top. The other has a hand splint that I’d received in Madrid. Apparently I sprained my fingers.

The stranger wriggles both my hands to loosen them, raising his brow at the splint. I laugh.

He asks in my ear but I don’t understand. It sounds like a question, something bylar. When I scrunch my brows he laughs, “Dance! We dance!?”

“Dance!” I laugh. He was cute! “Yes! I want to dance with you!”

“Vamos,” he pulls me in. I understood that at least.

I used to do this in uni, I think. I should be able to do it again.

He teases me a little because I’m so tense. His hands knead down my back to my waist to get me to relax. It feels nice, being touched by a man that looks like he was carved from marble but filled with music.

I begin to find my rhythm and sway with him, eventually letting go completely. He compliments me as I start to move with him and pretty soon I’ve channeled my 20-year-old self. It feels pretty spectacular.

When his lips ghost my cheek I don’t protest. Right now, I felt good. Everything was on the back burner’s back burner and I felt grounded in this nighclub with this random stranger who was paying attention to me, just me. And it’s just us. And it’s just temporary. And I feel good.

When I turn around, my back to his chest, he moves my hair to the side and kisses down my neck. It felt good.

I run my hand up into his hair and he moves lower murmuring foreign words on my skin, our bodies still dancing in the same language, his hands still gripping my waist and my hips. I feel blissed out.

It ends in a split second.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly tugging me towards him. His mouth makes the words I just fill them in with his annoyingly bossy voice.

“Hey man,” the guy I’m dancing with tries to get in between us.

“What are you doing!?” I snatch my hand away from Harry.

Harry puts his hand on my partner’s chest and says something to him, maybe in Spanish. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I look at Harry. What had he said.

“What did you say?” I ask. I try to call back my dancing partner but he just salutes me with a smile and fades into the crowd. No wait, I’m being dragged away.

“Y/n what are you doing out there?”

“What am I doing?” I shout. “What are you?! I was having a nice time with that guy what did you say to him?”

He walks away, further back into the edges of the club. There’s a few people milling about with a number of them involved in heavy makeout sessions.

Harry turns to face me finally. “You’re engaged y/n, Claire and Sarah said things are complicated at home is that why you’re doing this?”

“What!” I throw my hands up, tears prick my eyes. What the fuck was his problem! Since when did he care? “Why do you care?! Yes, things are complicated and I was getting my mind off of said things—what is your issue? You want to drag me back here and remind me of how shitty things have been?”

“This isn’t the way,” Harry insists. “You don’t even know that guy!”

“Whatever I’m over this convo.”

I turn to leave but Harry grabs my hand, the one in the splint, and pulls me back.

“Sorry,” he lets go of the splint. Then picks it up again. “Look. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you, you’re not the girl that goes home with another guy when your fiancé is back at home! I just don’t want you making any regrets.”

“Oh is that it,” I step towards him so my hand isn’t so outstretched. He stands still but on my second step he inches back. “Since when did you get a high horse huh? Don’t tell me who I am and who I’m not. You barely know me! If I want to make decisions I regret I can do that. They’re mine to make.”

“No. Y/n, as mad as you are don’t go home with a stranger.”

“As if you don’t!” I scoff. “What’s your real agenda here? What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” He insists.

“Why do you suddenly care so much about my chastity?”

“It’s for your own good!”

He’s lying. I know he’s lying and I don’t know why he pulled me away from my beautiful Spanish dance partner but I was actually relaxing and now he’s put me right back into this crazed and tense headspace I kept finding myself in.

Fine, I decide. I could make him regret it.

“Really? You care about my morality that much?” I ask.

With my hand flat on his chest I’ve pushed him further into the wall behind him. He watches me with a guarded look.

But I want him unguarded, vulnerable. The same way he’s made me feel. I lean in, “Are you really worried about the technicalities of me cheating on my fiancé?”

I hover a half foot from his lips. Finally his eyes flicker down to my lips and I know I’ve got him.

I slide my hand up his chest and when my hand inches up the skin of his throat his eyes grow unguarded and heady with lust. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say no.

Hypocrite.

I drop my hand.

“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”

I watch for a wonderful moment as the lust clears from his eyes and he realizes what happened. Shame, embarrassment, resignation, and then anger.

I spin on my heel and head away from him. He could deal with the consequences of his actions all on his own.

I’m half-afraid he’ll come after me but luckily I make it out of the club alone.

“He’s such a dick,” I say more to myself. Just to get it out because I’m pissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is!?”

My night is over. I just want to take this all off and forget about it. Maybe I can lock myself in my room and raid the mini-fridge, get drunk and cry myself to sleep. Those seemed like the best options right now.

I take an uber to the hotel. As I walk up to it I notice a weird crowd outside. For nearly 2am I wasn’t expecting this and my instincts kick in that this wasn’t normal. Especially when I notice all the camera straps.

“Excuse me,” I ask the front desk. “Why are there a bunch of paparazzi outside?”

“Is there?” The man behind the counter asks. “Sorry we will tell them to leave. Are you staying with us?”

“That’s a privacy concern out there, and a concern with your staff because they’re here. How do they know who’s staying here?!”

It seems to dawn on him I wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He promises me he’ll get management. In the meantime I call Jeff and explain the situation. He starts to panic the way I hated, looking for something to blame. He calls Graham who sounds like he’s driving in nascar. It’s a very noisy and over-stimulating conversation.

“Call Harry!” Jeff orders. “Tell him he cannot go back to the hotel no matter what! Fucking vultures man!”

“Y/N,” Graham says in a calmer voice. “You need to go back to where Harry is with some sort of disguise. A hat or sunglasses. That sort of thing-“

“It’s night.”

“Yes night. No glasses. Book the closest hotel you can find. Tell his band they can come back, but to go through the back. They might get spotted but they’re trained on dodging questions. That will keep the vultures there waiting for Harry and we can pick you two up back to the airport tomorrow morning. Where’s after this?”

“Glasgow,” I bite my nail as I think. I had to call Harry asap. What if he was on his way back. “I gotta go now to call him though. Talk later.”

I hang up and call Harry. He picks up the second time.

I explain the situation and he reacts the same way as Jeff, swearing and cursing the papps. I tell him what I was going to do and tell him to go right back into the club. To pass on the word to the team even though I was going to send them a text.

I head up to my room and grab what fits in my bag. I didn’t have Harry’s room key so I decide he’d have to wear my hat and head back out. The vultures stay waiting, now just a few feet further away from the entrance.

I speak briefly to management—I figured Jeff could talk to them and give his classic earful.

On the drive I find a nearby hotel to the club and collect Harry to get him there. We’re too tense to talk when we meet up. Once inside again, I tell him to sit in the lounge while I go up to the desk.

Act above it all, I channel a rich bitch. We needed privacy and we needed nobody to know Harry was here.

“Hi I need a room.” I say.

“Of course, how many night will you be staying with us.”

I glance back to see where Harry sits. He’s in a wingback chair that’s mostly turned away and with his hair stuffed in the baseball cap you can hardly tell it’s him.

“Just a night. I need your best room please.”

“Absolutely,” the woman smiles and I feel bad for only giving a tight-lipped smile back. I wait as she clicks away, finally looking back to me with a slight frown. “So miss unfortunately we are very booked tonight. There are a couple events going on in the city making things very popular.”

“The best room will do. Preferably large.”

“Well,” she hesitates. “A lot of our larger rooms are taken um. I can offer you a bed with one king, it is a bit smaller because it’s by the elevators. I also have one with a queen that is tucked away in the corner with a better view.”

I wanted to be as far away from Harry as possible but by an elevator was asking for trouble.

“Well, I’d rather stay far away from noise so we’ll take the queen.”

“Is that just you or…” she glances at Harry.

“Yes. Two. We’ve had a rough day of travel he’s just resting.”

I hand over ID and my card, trying not to balk at the total. At least I’ll get reimbursed.

“Do you have any bags?” The concierge swoops in as I get the key card.

“No! No. Like I said, bad travel day. We just need somewhere to sleep and we’ll reunite with the bags once they arrive tomorrow.”

They leave us alone after that. I hoped it was because I’d been standoffish enough and not plain weird.

The elevator ride up to the 8th floor is stony and I spend the spare second to text Jeff and Graham the hotel’s address.

The room itself is pretty sub-par and the adrenaline of getting Harry here safely wears off.

I drop my bag by the door and pull out my toiletry bag.

“I don’t have clothes for you to change into, I didn’t have your room key.”

“Yeah. S’fine. I’ll just sleep shirtless unless that bothers you.”

We stare at each other for a tense moment.

“I’m fine with that, you’re the one with the high horse.”

After doing all this for him I wasn’t going to be easy to deal with if he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with.

He chooses to ignore me.

“How the fuck did they know I was staying there? We were under a-“

His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.

I use the time to go to the bathroom and finally take off the makeup. I realize I should have grabbed my pjs from my bag too. I take my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers, letting myself calm down despite the aggressive voices outside.

“Yeah whatever. Keep me updated.” I hear. Great. That was done with.

I leave the bathroom and Harry’s still pacing the floor.

“You’re gonna wear the carpet down if you keep doing that.”

He stops and looks at me, his eyes trail down my body.

“You didn’t bring yourself a change of clothes either?”

“You wish,” I head for my bag again and grab the tee and shorts. “I just forgot them out here.”

“Do you always have to be so snarky?”

Oh, so he wanted to fight. Good news for him, so did I.

“Depends. With you? When you’re being a dick? Yeah. I do.”

“It’s really quite unbecoming.”

“Is it?” I mock his accent. “It’s not proper for a lady to be snarky?”

“I don’t sound like that. You just never let anything go.” He continues.

“I never let anything go?” I repeat.

“Yeah! Ever!”

“What do you want me to let go?” I ask.

“Everything. You’re bothered by everything just let it all fucking go.”

“No like specifically what should I let go?” I turn on him and with each question I stalk towards him. “Being treated like trash by you? Being told I’m replaceable and unnecessary? Getting bossed around about who I can and can’t dance with because you suddenly decide to be the morality police!?”

“Jesus take it down a notch y/n.” We’re fuming as we square off. “I’m not your bloody fiancé.”

“And thank fuck you’re not!” I throw the clothes in my hand on the bed. “You’re my employer Mr. Styles and I’ve been nothing but a good fucking employee for the last year! I try to keep my patience and do everything I can to do my best! You’re the one always trying to blur lines! You’re the one always getting in my damn business when I don’t pay you to!”

With every accusation I poke my finger into his chest and it’s like literally pushing buttons. His face gets stonier and stonier until I’m sure he’s going to crack.

“You wanna know what your fucking issue is?” He swipes my hand away.

“Oh sure tell me, wise Harry Styles who definitely has no issues at all. Tell me.”

“This. This is your fucking issue,” he spits. “You’ve always got such a temper on you! I’m not blurring any bloody lines I check up on you and you get all offended over nothing!”

“Over nothing?” I ask. I laugh sarcastically and walk away from him. I was seeing red. “Over nothing?”

“Yes! I don’t do shite and suddenly you’re trying to bite my dick off.”

“You fucking wish,” I turn on him. “It’s crazy you don’t realize what an absolute jackass you are! We should be refunding all those fans who’ve come out to see you because the man they’re paying for is a fake! You’ve treated me like nothing and embarrassed me countless time-“

“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.

“Yes!” I go on. “What do you call what you said on our way to Paris huh? You can be so cruel! So if I have a temper it’s justified because you’re one of the worst people I’ve met!”

“What did I say?”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to make me repeat it?” He was crazy. He was depraved and absolutely insane. Or he just hated me.

“I’m not playing a game just tell me!”

“You said I could have skipped the whole tour and nobody would notice.” I say the words that had looped through my head. And of course, he has the audacity to look surprised. “Thanks. A lot! It makes it even worse that you were so casual with your cruelt-“

“You need to stop being so sensitive,” he has the nerve to say. “Then maybe you can manage your temper.”

“I can manage my temper any time but you’re moody like a pre-pubescent teen and that looks to be a lifetime fucking problem!”

“What’s your fucking problem Y/n! What is your problem with me!? Why do you still work for me if you are this angry all the time!”

“I’m not this angry all the time, you just makes me this angry! And I hate you for it!”

“Then quit!”

“Maybe I will!” I had to. After tonight and this blowout I had to. How could I work for Harry like this.

“Great! Then you can take your problems with you.”

“Don’t gaslight me,” how dare he. “You’re not innocent in this! You create my problems and blame me for being this way.”

“Whatever y/n.”

“No.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I get in his face again. “Why did you stop me tonight? Why did you keep me from doing what I wanted tonight?”

“What? I told you I was looking out-“

“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “That’s a bullshit excuse, I want to know why!?”

I feel like I’m made of flames and in desperate need of a lobotomy. How could one guy make me this crazy. How could it all revolve around him.

“I was doing it for your own good! But clearly I understand why it’s so fucking complicated with your partner-“

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I seethe. I was mad. Fuming. I want to get physical, I wish I could throttle him or at the very least access one of the pillows from across the room and smash it to the floor. I want him to see how angry I am because my words are twisted with every angle Harry could find. I wanted him to admit to something he’s been skirting for a long time. “Tell me.”

Harry stares at me with hate in his eyes and I know I have the same look. I wasn’t going to let him get away.

“You don’t even have the balls to admit it,” I poke. “Is this why you’re so hard-headed to anything I say? Because you can’t even admit something like this to yourself?”

“Just shut the fuck up y/n and stop being so mental.”

“I refuse to shut up. I want you to talk.”

His breathing gets faster and I watch him flex his hand. He was as angry as I was. Good.

“You’re a fraud. And I hate you.” I step into his space. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away from each other’s. I want to show him how mad he makes me. I want to do something. I want him to admit this thing he’s been dancing around. It makes me so mad!

When he starts to shake his head at me I lose it. Instinct takes over where I want to physically show him how angry he was making me. I grab his face in my hands and push my mouth against his. I meet teeth.

But it doesn’t take long for him to respond. To correct the unadulterated anger with purpose.

He pushes back, kissing me harder whilst pushing me against the wall. I feel sandwiched, my chest crushed against his and I bite down on his lip trying to get back some control.

My hands are all over him, grabbing his shirt, running through his hair, pushing under his shirt to touch skin. Harry does the same, pulling at my hair and lifting me onto him.

Our tongues clash together, his hand grabs my ass, squeezing and moving up. His hands feel hot on my skin, his metal rings an icy contrast. Neither of us want to give up control. We keep fighting, just now with our bodies.

“Why can’t you ever just let it go,” he traces his teeth over my collarbone. It all feels too much.

In response I push him back, he stares at me for a heated second before we crash into each other again. We don't care where we are. All that mattered was here and showing the other who was in control. Who hated who the most.

Harry pulls away, his mouth a deep pink from our fight. His eyes are half lidded, his pupils dilated. I can tell he wants this but a part of him hesitates.

"We're doing this," I commit, not taking my eyes off his lips.

"I’m doing this," he growls and lifts me up, any hesitancy washed away. I wrap my legs around him, not thinking about anything but what I was going to do.

He whirls me around and deposits me onto the bed, and his body covers mine while his mouth attack my neck.

He wasn't gentle or slow, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I pull off his shirt, not wanting anything between us, not caring that my nails would leave marks down his back. Leaving something permanent on him sounded exactly what I needed.

I tug on his hair as his teeth come down on my chest. I feel heated as he swears, “Teasing me with this top all night was a fucking sin y/n.”

“Fuck off,” I gasp as he figures out the row of clasps at the front and the icy rings of his fingers presses against my sternum. I grit my teeth, “I didn’t wear this for you.”

His abs contract as he pushes himself back up, his eyes dark as his hands find the clasp on my trousers, undoing them with ease and tugging them off. His other hand comes back up to tilt my chin up.

“D’you really hate me?” He asks.

“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.

He moves his body, covering mine with his own again. My breath catches in my throat as he presses his lips to my neck, slowly moving down. He drives me crazy with anticipation and I wriggle up to keep up the pace but he holds me in place. I let out a moan as he kisses my inner thighs, his fingers gripping the tops of them. I'm squirming under his hold, the heat pooling inside of me.

“Do you hate me?” He asks again.

“Yes,” I cry, not wanting to relent to him.

“Good,” he says and that’s the last thing I remember.

The rest is a tangle of limbs, an out-of-body sensation, and seismic wave after wave coursing through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before; the fury we felt with each other fuzes to the passion of the moment and it blitzes every damn thought out of my head.

Hours later, or maybe the whole night later—I don’t know but all I do know was that my body was spent and I was barely hanging on.

“I can’t,” I plant my hands on his shoulders and nearly pitch forward just from pausing. His hand splays on my back, keeping me in place as he turns us around.

“Okay?” He asks low.

I nod, grateful that he was taking over.

And after riding out what I know would be my last wave he rolls off of me, and we lay there just trying to catch our breaths.

After a few minutes, I sense him tilting towards me, his eyes on my face. When he stares for so long it becomes obvious, I look back at him.

His eyes are not the same ones that started this mess, they’re breezy meadows of green compared to the icy sea glass from before. But it’s not surprising. With each round and each minute we spent with other tonight, things had grown softer. Not gentle, but softer.

And as we look at each other with the awareness that the anger had bled into the threads of these tangled sheets a long time ago, we’re left with something neither of us want to distinguish. At least I don’t.

His gaze holds something too real for a place like this and I quickly look away and back at the ceiling. I feel his eyes on me a moment longer before he himself turns away to stare at the same ceiling.

“Y/N,” someone suddenly calls my name, tapping my cheeks with a gentle pat. I have to pull myself from the depths of wherever the fuck I just went to open my eyes and look up, at Harry. He looks concerned and asks me a question that I don’t register—I was truly out of it. I must have dozed off.

I push his hand away and grab the closest piece of clothing to wrap around myself in which ends up being a sheet. I take myself to the bathroom to clean up.

I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. My eyes are blown out and my neck looks like it was rammed by a bull. I can hardly look at the rest of me. I would need to buy something high necked before we got picked up tomorrow morning and use all the concealer I had. I know I marked every inch of him I could find too.

I had never felt that level of passion with anyone. It was unnerving.

My knees collapse under me as I sit on the toilet and try to count the tiles on the opposite wall, just to come back to earth. To my body.

I sense a shadow under the door after I’m in there for a while, I watch it move from one side to the other and then move away. I wait longer, nearly falling asleep there before going back out.

The bed looks a right mess and most of the duvet is twisted to the side. I don’t bother with it, I use the sheet I’m wrapped in and crawl right into bed. Harry seems to have fallen asleep too but as I near sleep I feel the bed dip and the heavy weight of the duvet drapes over me.

I don’t have enough clarity or energy tonight to think about what any of this meant but I know I was right about leaving.

***

We return to London on a Wednesday morning and nearly kiss the ground. Harry was still playing two shows here but getting to go back home instead of a hotel room was enough to make us weep.

I didn’t really have a home to go back to. I’d been thinking about that a lot as the tour took us closer and closer to London. I had texted Gray yesterday and we agreed I could crash there until this weekend to get my stuff together.

London had a metaphorical grey fog over it in my mind. Nothing felt appealing about it and the only thing on my mind these days was home—my childhood home.

I already knew I was going to give in my resignation letter to Harry after tour but I had a 3 week period under contract. I don’t think I could afford a hotel for three weeks and staying with any of my friends is out of the question.

These thoughts kept me preoccupied.

It helped me not to think about that night though. I avoided Harry unless it was for work, returning to the solitude of my first few months working for him. He does the same: curt and avoidant. I know others notice but nobody dares to ask.

It was the most intense thing I’d done in my whole life and that was saying something. There was a way that Harry got under my skin that nobody else could. And it was hard to find a balance after the scales had shifted so far in that direction.

I felt like I had to block it out until I could have space to process it. And yet memories still seeped through when I was quiet for a moment too long or when he’d walk past me with the same cologne as that night and I’d catch a whiff. I was doubly sure this chapter had to close.

When I get back to the flat on Wednesday Gray has vanished as he promised. He told me he’d drop by that evening to talk. Surprisingly, I felt calm about it. I don’t know if it was getting all of that ferocious energy out that had been churning for months, but I feel level-headed and I appreciate the space to myself.

Gray texts me before he arrives. Like this wasn’t the flat he was now paying for alone.

I know what he wanted to talk about—we were all supposed to go to Harry’s last show at the o2 since I had tickets for everyone. Josie was stoked and based on the way she’s been texting me leading up to the day I don’t think she knew. Gray confirms it.

“So,” he rubs the back of his neck. He looked nice in a beanie and corduroy jacket. I wonder if any of the effort was for me, then vanish the thought.

“So,” I echo.

We stand awkwardly across from each other—him propping himself up behind the couch and me leaning against the dining table. Like we needed to get as much furniture between us. Like we hadn’t shared a bed a few weeks ago.

“We should sit?”

“Yeah,” he attempts a laugh and sits on the sofa. I choose the closest chair and turn it to face him. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know how you feel about Saturday. But I haven’t told Josie yet. I haven’t really told anyone.”

I nod, “Me too. Not really. People at work think we’re on a break.”

“Right. Good.” He says. “I’m not tryna lie to people but I don’t really want to get into it…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”

“I’ll let her know once…once you move out?”

Move out. Of this flat. It’s been home for nearly 3 years.

Gray had surprised me with it when he found it—I had been broke and only been able to pitch in for utilities and groceries but he’d been gracious. He’d been supportive once. But I guess his support had boundaries too. I didn’t entirely blame him for that.

“Sounds good. Or later, maybe when she’s done her exams.”

He leans back on the couch, arms spread over the back and sighs as he studies me. “Yeah of course. I should’ve thought of that. You’re always good at that stuff. She’s gonna be gutted.”

I nod. Not sure what to say to that.

“So you’ll be out on Saturday yeah?” He asks after a while. It seemed both of us had a lot on our minds. But his question stings a little.

“Yep. I’m off for most of the week so I’ll just pack things up. Uhm, with Josie and whatnot I guess we’re still acting like a couple? Will that be weird?”

“Yeah. It will be but we’ve got no other option.”

“Right.” I respond. His voice grows an edge I’m not a fan of. “Well. Thanks for letting me stay here. If you need anything else I guess you can grab it now.”

I want to ask how he’s doing, who he’s staying with, and just hold his face one last time to really remember. But his cold apathy grows like frostbite over the room and creeps into my heart. I always thought where there was love there would always be love but I’m not as sure tonight.

I stay busy and when I can’t sleep at night; I map out a dream, an exit plan home. I write up my resignation letter, I look at flights and rentals and talk things out with my family, I cancel wedding and couple shit, and grieve a fair bit.

On Friday afternoon, my only formal shift this week, I head to Harry’s with an anxious weight in my chest and a buzz in my head from the hope. Hope that this chapter of my life could end soon, and I can head home and recuperate and plan out what my life was going to look like.

Harry’s on a call when I get in. He spares me a glance but I head to the office with my stack of mail. Today was mostly for some housekeeping/admin but I hope to avoid Harry for the most part like I’ve done since that night. My letter sits like a bar of gold in my bag.

I hear him move about the flat. I restock some pantry items, and we speak as little as possible. Going with him to his meeting was my final task for today so I decide it’s a good time to hand in my letter.

I find him sitting in the studio, tapping a pen against the table.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Hm?” He drags his eyes away from his screen to look at me.

“So we’re heading to your meeting in 10. Before then I just wanted to hand this in.”

The envelope stays outstretched in my hand and he eyes it, not taking it.

“What is that?”

“Can you just take it?” I shake it a little, like a bag of treats for a puppy.

His muscles move one inch every ten seconds, that’s how slow he is to sit up in his seat and finally take the letter from my hands. I almost let out a big sigh of relief. The process was finally in place.

“What is it?” He asks again, tearing the corner and down the side like he usually did.

I wait for him to unfold the thirds before answering, “my resignation letter.”

His eyes scan the sheet left to right right to left and when he looks up at me it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.

“Is this a joke?”

“No? Obviously not? I’m handing in my 3 weeks. I’ll also email a copy to Jeff and you.”

“Why are you doing this?” He stands, his tall frame rigid.

“Why? Because I’m…I’m quitting? I think I’ve learned everything I could here a-and it’s time to move on.”

By here I don’t mean working for Harry Styles and co but just here as in London. I’ve learned a fuck ton of life lessons here, and it was time to process them elsewhere.

“Is this to get back at me somehow? I don’t understand,” the papers crinkle in his fist as he grips it tighter. “Do you want a raise? Can we talk about this?”

“No.” I say and even though there’s so much more I could say I think that sums up my answer.

He looks puzzled, then annoyed. Just then my phone buzzes. The car was downstairs.

I grab my laptop and we head down. I was coming along to take minutes and then head home. In the car I reassure Harry,

“I plan on wrapping things up in the next three weeks and making sure everything is set up for an easy transition. I’ll leave continuity notes and reach out to people I regularly communicate with to break the news. The next couple months are pretty easy anyway coming out of tour and going on holiday so there should be plenty of time for the new PA, whoever your hire, to catch up.”

He doesn’t say a word. It reminds me of our first drive to the studio together. How naïve I was. How things changed.

He continues staring out the window, resting his face on his fist. I remember my teeth dragging over that jaw. I blink the image away; this was why I had to go.

When we get to Graham’s office Harry tells Jeff, “we don’t need minutes.”

Jeff looks over at me for answers and I shrug. I guess I came here for no reason but at least I had my laptop to work.

“Uh y/n please come i-“

“She’s fine working out there,” Harry cuts Graham off. Graham looks offended, his gaze drawing between Harry and I. Again, I shrug. I wasn’t leaving today I don’t know why he was acting like it.

For the next hour or so I sit at a spare cubicle and do just as I said in the car. I type out lists for upcoming interviews and studio days. I send emails for information to note for whoever the poor person was to replace me.

I had been keeping the Dos and Don’ts updated over the last year and it feels like a baby the way it came together with so much thought. I was almost sad to part with it.

Nobody tells me the meeting is over. The door simply opens and Harry breezes past.

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters. Any faster and I would have to hold down the papers around me.

When he’s gone beyond sight, I turn back to the open door.

“What’s the matter with him?” I hear Graham asking inside.

“You keep pushing him,” Jeff responds with irritation. “That’s not his brand Graham.”

“Well that’s a different tune. Prior to this you were singing my praises with these new ideas.”

“I don’t know. Something’s been up with him for…a while-“

“Since that article isn’t it?” Graham references the Harry Styles slander when we were in Spain. Little did they know other things had also happened.

“We dealt with that article.”

Shit, I think. Has he been any different? I think I was keeping too much distance from him to notice.

“Y/n,” my name snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Mhm?” I’m beckoned to the meeting room. “Yes?”

“Find out what’s wrong with him. Or better yet just convince him to be a bit more alive at his last show tomorrow with his usual charm? He hasn’t been his full capacity the last few shows has he?”

Shit. “Um. Burnout?”

The two men look at each other. They make a face like that couldn’t possibly be why. I tell the men what they want to hear, that I’d try to find out and get him back to his charming self (yuck) before joining Harry in the car.

“Jeff and Graham aren’t all that happy with you,” I say when we start driving. Harry was giving me a lift home. “They’re insisting you do it right at your final tomorrow. Be your charming self.”

He grunts in response, head facing the window again. Was he allergic to look forward in the car or something?

“Are you coming?” He asks after a good ten minutes of silence.

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. I gave my extra tickets to…my fiance,” my brain fumbles my words as it remembers what he was and now is. And the lie I had to keep up. “And his sister and her friend.”

He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.

When the car pulls up to my familiar building I thank his driver and begin my shimmy out but Harry puts a hand to my knee to stop me. His touch sears right through my stockings and he must feel it too because he slides his hand back.

“Answer this,” he looks at me for the first time tonight. Wow, this really did feel like my first week on the job.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Is it because of that night?”

It’s the first time it’s been mentioned, and his gaze burns brighter than a forest fire. It’s mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

Wait, he wanted an answer.

“It’s because of a lot of things,” I answer truthfully.

He clenches his jaw. Leans back in his seat. The seatbelt reverses to hold him in place again and he’s no longer looking at me. I take that as my cue to go.

***

Josie bursts into the flat dressed to the nines in a groovy floral jumpsuit and boas in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have one for each of us.”

Her friend trails behind her in an equally 70s inspired look.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Josie judges her brother’s hoodie and jeans. “You’re lowering the vibe Gray do better. Y/n? Why didn’t you brief him?”

“I did!” I eye Gray. “Don’t blame me.”

This was way more awkward than I thought. Or I really was not as good of an actress as I wished.

“What am I supposed to wear?” Gray asks. “I’m not wearing a jumpsuit.”

Josie rolls her eyes. “Y/n please drag him back and find a decent tee or something?”

“Yes ma’am,” I take Gray by the arm and take him back.

“This is kinda weird hey?” I whisper when we close the door.

“I don’t really like it either,” Gray scratches his head. “But it’s for the best.”

I nod and then louder announce, “Well it’s Jo’s night so find something a tad more retro?”

We end up with a red tee and find a belt to tie the look. Josie hugs her brother with thanks when she sees it.

I had on a pair of black bellbottoms paired with a blank tank. My hair was in spacebuns and Josie plucks a few boa feathers to accessorize my hair. It’s cute.

We head off and I have to make a conscious effort to remember my mannerisms with Gray before all this. I feel woozy while I slide my hand into his on the ride there, as Josie snaps our pics on her disposable, as she tells us to get one of us where Gray’s kissing my cheek and she’ll save it to show our kids. It makes me sick.

He keeps an arm on my waist as we walk. I want this night to be over so bad but every time I look Josie’s way I perk back up a little. I wanted her to enjoy this.

And she does. I’m sure she’s lost her voice by the end of the concert. At one point we drift away a little and breathe easier to drop the act but when she’s back Gray wraps his arms around me from behind and we act like a happy couple. Again, I felt sick.

Being in Gray’s arms held none of the spark it used to. I just feel awkward and sad.

At one point Harry looks my way, I don’t know how he spotted me in such a big crowd. It’s between songs and he looks at the group I’m with. I give a pathetic wave and he nods ever so slightly, his gaze sliding off soon after. Gray’s arm tightens around my shoulder and my heart gives a squeeze in response. I’m reminded: this era was ending.

The band told me to meet them backstage at the end, to join in on the final-show celebration. Josie and Gray would wait at a local pub and with the way Josie’s Instagram stories were glowing I could imagine her sitting there uploading it all.

“I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” I catch Harry saying as I slip behind stage with my pass. “I know I’ve not been the easiest to be with but you all sit in my heart. This is our Euro tour, concluded.”

Somebody pops bubbly and I congratulate the whole team as they drink. They insist on going out for proper drinks and I’m denied not going. They tell me to invite my guests to party with them and I know, based on where we were going, Josie was going to flip.

Juniper, a club that gets us all in on Harry’s face card, is opulent and lively on the inside. Josie is buzzing about with her friend—Gray had opted to go home, claiming he had early morning sessions. Josie didn’t think twice about him, but we pretended to go back and forth with a final warning from Gray to Josie to behave.

“He’s a broody one,” Charlie comments on Gray as we chatter while we get drinks. “Sister?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t know yet though so,” I put my finger to my lip.

“So no Barcelona dancing tonight?” Sarah teases. I laugh and tell them to keep me tamed. “We gotta do some shots with the team though where is everyone?”

We gaze around the room and manage to get everyone together. After one round of shots and another that Harry forced on all of us I feel the tension I’ve been carrying with me most days slide away.

We end up sticking together as a group and dance together, laughing and cheering each other on. Even Harry’s in a cheery mood—I suspect the alcohol. I catch him watching me at one point and when I raise my brow he takes my hand and spins me in a friendly twirl. I trip on my wide-legged pants and he catches me from behind. With my back to his chest I have the urge to turn around and kiss him and feel the peculiar comfort I had received from him before. That thought drives me away from him again. Despite the tight knit group there’s too much between us to even attempt being close.

I call it quits when Josie finds me and announces she was going home. I hug the newfound family I had made over the last few months one final goodbye, knowing I might never see them together like this again.

***

Jeff’s reaction to my news surprises me the most. He’s visibly upset and tries to sell me anything to stay. I tell him there was nothing to keep me at my job but I would rely on him for a good reference. I think it’s the first time he’s ever reassured me.

Between Harry and I it remains curt. Sometimes even edgy. I post my own job replacement and Jeff keeps me updated on potential candidates. By the time my last week rolls around I’m host to a roil of emotions.

The first week homeless, Charlie had let me crash on her couch and promised not to say a word to anyone. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and so I had checked into a hotel and called it home for now.

I’m on my way back home to the hotel after being at Gray’s. We’d invited Josie over for dinner now that her exams were over and she’d been suspicious from the start.

We had told her the truth and she refused to believe it, hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she looked at me and realized she had been kept in the dark for the last week. I felt worse then, than I did when Gray and I called it quits.

I promised her a lunch together this week to talk more. Just because I was out of Gray’s life didn’t mean I had to be out of hers. I thought I could also tell her then that I was leaving to go back home.

On my second last day at work, Harry sends me on an errand near the end of the day. When I get back there’s a small group of friendly and familiar faces waiting to surprise me. I’m touched by the gesture, and I try to corner Harry to say thank you but it feels he avoids me at every chance, always in a larger crowd.

I finally catch him while I’m heading out of the bathroom and he’s heading down the hall.

“Oh hey,” I step in his way. He looks cornered. “I just wanted to say thanks for throwing this.”

“Yeah,” he gestures it was nothing. “It was Jeff’s idea.”

Ouch. I hide the sting. “Well. Thanks regardless.”

He nods, staying mute, but his eyes speak a thousand words—just none that I can read. They stay trained on me, communicating whatever.

Slowly the furrow between his brows eases and the sharp edges of his face give way to a softened expression. I’m scared to move in case I break the trance and don’t get to hear whatever his racing thoughts spit out. Just when it looks like he’s about to say something, a guest turns the corner up the hall.

“Anyone in the toilet?” It was Mitch. Damnit.

“Nope,” I step out of the way, inadvertently brushing Harry. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to act casual but he stiffens beside me. Was it that awful being around me, jeez.

I give up. If he wanted to continue staying moody, so be it. I leave to go back to the party and don’t look back.

My final days in London are hard. The same way I arrived, I go: alone and unsure of what’s ahead.

I always thought here was where I would stay forever. And maybe one day I would return but there was a little too much friction between me and the Capital.

I finish work on an unremarkable note after going through processes with the new hire, and dotting all of my i’s. Harry is nowhere to be seen and I’m gone before he gets back. I’m frustrated that he’s behaving this way but there’s also too much between us for the simple goodbye I yearn for.

I visit all of my old favourites, have one last drink at my old local pub somewhere in between Gray’s flat and Harry’s. I shed a lot of tears on my pilgrimage through the city’s veins. I promise the paved and cobblestone roads I would be back one day.

The walls of my lungs ease open on the flight home. Still, tears cascade down my face silently as the plane sleeps. Eventually I do too. When I wake the sky is filled with bright blinding sunrise, and American soil peeks out below me: I was finally home.

••••••••••••••••••••

Present (2 years on):

My heart flutters seeing Harry here, I chalk it up to anxiety. But it annoys me that despite all the distance and the growth, he still had an effect on me.

Harry’s head turns and before I can be smart about it our eyes lock. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before his face falls into a nonchalant facade again. I don’t even want to know what my face looked like.

Then he gets the nerve to smirk, hang his head, and then grab his drink and walk towards me.

“If I had a cross I would be holding it up right now.” I have to shout a little so he hears me before he gets to me. He was an emotional vampire feeding on all of mine.

“Now why’s that?” He continues towards me. My emotions swirl through me. “I thought time heals all wounds. Why the unfriendly welcome Mrs. Duran?”

I grit my teeth at the name, he was still filled with poison. “Right, the timeless wisdom of clichés.”

“I like to think I’m pretty timeless.” He smiles.

“I’ve found that time may heal wounds, but scars make sure you never forget.”

“Well, scars aside, you look good,” he moves on and I feel like an idiot the way I was used to feeling around him.

“Of course I do.”

“What are you doing in London? Last I checked I was getting a reference check from America.”

I debate not answering him but I was trying to straddle the line between indifference and confidence. It was like walking a tightrope.

“I’m in London for a little while,” I give vaguely.

“Ah,” he smiles and damnit I forgot how handsome he could be. How handsome could then turn into seductive so quickly. I had to remember: Still a devil. “Are you looking for a new employer? Because I could be hiri-“

“No.” I cut him off. “I finally have a job I love so I’m good.”

Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. I sort of wish I still had a drink in my hand, they feel awkward and clunky and I want to avoid playing with my hair. Gah. “Global star drinks alone at his local bar?”

He laughs but I can tell I hit a minor nerve. “Here I’m just a local. Always have been—it’s nice to be anonymous for a little bit.”

I roll my eyes. I didn’t believe that for a second. He loved his fame and everything that came with it.

Plus I used to come here all the time, I would’ve known if my employer was a local too. He was lying for some reason.

“Mr. Styles if there’s one thing I remember about you, you’d choose death over anonymity.”

“Firstly,” he leans in and I get a whiff of his usual cologne with a hint of malt. “A person can change a lot. So maybe you don’t know me as much as you think you do-“

“Oh I don’t think anyone can change that drastically in only a year-“

“You seemed to have.”

His words take mine out of my mouth. I hadn’t changed, not really. I’d always been this y/n but the further I got away from him the more reassured I had gotten being that y/n.

“And secondly,” he continues before I could think of a response. “You no longer work for me. Harry is fine.”

The smile he throws me is almost sweet if I didn’t know the cruelty that could hide underneath. I don’t return the smile, I only raise my brow and look back down at my phone. My cell service hasn’t gotten any better and I’d missed the wifi password.

I could connect to Harry’s wifi, ask him so that I could order an uber.

I’d rather van gogh my ear.

I weigh all my options and consider the last one again. I look up to see what Harry was doing in the silence and find him looking at me. A shiver runs up my spine as our eyes clash. So much history and words unspoken fall in between. A very specific night flashes through my mind. I wonder if it does him because he looks down first. Damn.

“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.

“Let me buy you a drink.” He says at the same time.

He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not drinking buddies.” I pull my purse to my chest, wanting to hop off this stool and run home if I need to. Put as much distance between myself and this man that was put on this earth to confuse me.

“Then what are we y/n?” He asks, his voice silky smooth as he leans in. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into my ear in my worst nightmares, nightmares of cotton sheets and heated limbs, of passion and shame.

“Ex-employer,” I point to him. I point to myself, “Ex-employee.”

“Exes have drinks together,” he grins full well knowing the double meaning.

“Never ends well,” I eye the door.

“Just as stubborn as I remember.”

“And you were saying people change?” I raise my brow.

He drops the smile and sighs, “I’m not gonna be able to convince ya am I?”

I shake my head. He should know that by now.

“Can I walk you out at least?”

I shrug, couldn’t hurt.

“What is this?” I ask as he opens the door for me.

“What?”

“This? Why are you trying to be so friendly?”

“I thought we could be friendly exes.”

And when did he get so cheeky.

“Something weird is going on,” I watch him stay in step with me as I walk up. With no service I was going to take the tube. “And I don’t like it.”

“Nothing weird is going on don’t get all paranoid on me.”

“Don’t call me paranoid! You never call a woman paranoid.”

“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”

“Nooo. You’re being weird.”

"Alright, no need to get all Freudian on me. Just trying to be a decent human here."

I shake my head, somehow in our exchange my face had decided it was okay to smile. To forget what he put me through and remember instead that when things were good between us we actually got along.

Damnit. The devil knew how to play tricks. I wipe the smile off my face while he continues walking with me.

“So…what have you been up to?” He asks.

“Working, you know me.” I say after trying to figure out what his angle was but unable to find one.

“Oretta Smith I hear, how did you manage that?”

“I’m just that good Harry,” I say. His name is weird in my mouth. Sure I called him that in my head but I usually used Mr. Styles. I can tell he feels the same with his quick glance my way.

“How do you like that?”

“Yeah, she’s a great employer like I said. Very professional. Lots of flexibility.” Each praise is a knock to his ego. But it was all true, plus with Winnie joining the team I had a friend my age that felt great.

But there was also a darker side called burnout that I barely admitted to myself. Ever since we landed in London and I had time to orient my new self in a city that molded my old self, I felt the familiar singe of purposeless. But I keep it to myself of course.

“Great.” Harry responds curtly. “What about yourself? How’s your life, are you finally married?”

My instinct is to raise my defences and chew him out, he must know Gray and I were done what with me living in the States.

And yet, when I peer past the defences and take a long hard look at him I realize he is asking earnestly and without another angle.

We’re nearing the tube now. I hesitate in lying or telling the truth.

“We broke up,” I choose to confess. I peek at him and he looks surprised, even sorry.

“I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“I’d hope not,” I reply. “Otherwise you’d be an asshole calling me Mrs. Duran.”

He huffs an awkward laugh.

“Anyway this is me—

“I can give you a ride home—wherever that is right now?” He asks.

We’re stood in front of the glass doors. There’s not a lot of people this time of night. And as tempting as his offer was, the way he looks at me right now sends poisonous butterflies to my stomach and I think it’s best I get home for the big day tomorrow and not make any regrets.

“I’m not too far,” I lie. I point a thumb to the doors behind me. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah. Yeah right.” He’s awkward, which is a first. He clears his throat and stuffs his hand into his pocket. I watch him with a removed sort of curiosity. Eventually he coughs out his question. “How long are you in London for?”

“A few weeks,” I reply.

He finally meets my eyes again—and there goes my stomach. He was supposed to have zero effect on me, I was supposed to stay mad at him. Why was my body betraying me? Why did it continue to loop memories from that night and remind me of the things he whispered in the dark?

“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.

His gaze travels over my face openly, no longer holding back the barely-hidden expressions from before. Because I told him Gray and I weren’t a thing? Because I was entertaining whatever bullshit this was?

“Yep,” I nod. Awkward. Nervous. Cautious.

“My number’s the same,” his eyes snap back to mine. “If you want to go for that drink later.”

“Harry,” I try to break it to him another way. I wish I could just say I never want that drink. “I don’t think-“

“Don’t think,” he cuts me off. He laughs when I furrow my brows. “I mean, I’m right here for most of the next few weeks. When you feel like you want to have that drink just give me a call. Or text.”

Why, I want to ask him. Why, after all this time, after everything that happened? And it’s like he reads my mind in the silence.

“I know you left on a pretty poor note.” He shuffles his feet. “I know a lot of that was my fault. I apologize for that. Um, but I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and…you are missed. Even Jeff remembers you fondly. Which is saying something.”

This was some sort of prank. Or Harry had gotten so famous he now had a doppelgänger roaming the streets as him. It couldn’t be that Harry, my Harry, would say something so sentimental and so…genuine.

“So uh yeah, I would love to see you again while you’re in town.” He says when I don’t respond.

“Right.” I choke out.

He shrugs when I can’t bring myself to say anything more. “We do change, whether you believe it or not y/n.”

I swallow, hoping to lubricate my vocal cords and find my voice. “I-I really do have to go.”

Crestfallen, he nods. His hand comes up to touch my elbow. “Yeah ‘course. Just…think about it?”

I look down at his hand and he lets go, we stay in another bubble of silence. His eyes flicker down to my lips and I feel a wave of warmth as I try not to do the same.

“Goodnight,” I blurt and get to the other side of the glass doors. He watches me go.

On the escalator down I risk a glance back and he’s still there, watching until I’m out of sight. That ended incredibly awkward.

Leave it up to Harry to confuse me in coming back into my life. Damn him, he could never be consistent.

***

Waking up super early to catch the train out to Cambridge is so worth it because I get to watch Josie walk the stage and graduate with distinction wearing her famous smile that beams over the vast room.

Despite what happened with Gray and I, Josie and I have kept in touch steadily over the last year. It started as weekly facetimes which reduced down to monthly calls and have now become a steady stream of texts and memes swapped back and forth.

When she found out I’d be in London around her graduation dates she gave me no choice but to show up, sending me a ticket without asking.

I knew I’d see Gray, and a part of me was nervous and curious how that was going to go. But mostly I was grateful to still be in Josie’s life and spend time with her in person. She was the part of this life I missed most.

I’m sat somewhere in the middle of the room and Josie was smart enough not to seat me with the rest of her guests. But I know I would see everyone during photos and the dinner we were having later on. I try keep my focus on the ceremony however.

“Y/N!” Josie rushes towards me when she sees me after the ceremony. The group she departs from I recognize is a mix of her girl friends, her family, and a few others.

“Josie!” I return the same energy and she leaps into my arms. I squeeze her tight to me. “I’m soo proud of you my girl.”

We sway side to side, until we get enough hug.

“Look at you!” She exclaims when she leans back. “Your hair looks amazing and you are glowing. Please tell me you have a boy in your life.”

“No,” I laugh.

“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.

“No! I’m just…happy where I am right now! How about you look at you! You look phenomenal as per.”

“Oh thanks,” she takes the compliment and giggles. “I asked my dad to grad gift me a salon and spa visit so I am rejuvenated and blown out.”

“Aren’t you ever,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Congratulations.”

“Eek!” She squeals. “Finally finished this hellscape! I can’t wait to never write an exam again—ooh wait I want you to meet my boy…”

“So that’s why we’re actually glowing,” I tease as she tugs me towards the group. That definitely has Gray. My stomach drops the closer we get, he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks busy talking to one of Josie’s friends.

“Anyway,” she deposits me in front of a 6 foot something guy made of angles. “This is Jax. My boyfriend. We met during a Friendsgiving Myles threw last year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jax smiles. “Y/N right?”

“Yes!”

“I was supposed to get around to that,” Josie huffs.

“Sorry she talked about you a lot when she found out you were coming. She was really excited.”

“Ugh,” she turns to me like she was embarrassed but her face is glowing. Josie was in looove.

“You two are so cute,” I tease which just makes Josie blush a little harder. “So are we getting any pictures?”

“Oh yeah,” Jax swivels his head. “Liliya has the good camera if you want to get-“

“Oh we can use our phones,” Josie cuts him off.

“No get the high res one—Liliya, camera?” Jax motions a shuttering action to the friend Gray was talking to. He’s so tall above the crowd that both look up at him and comply.

“Y/N,” Josie drags my arms back and takes me on the outskirt of the crowd. “I’m so sorry I never mentioned because I thought you wouldn’t come if I did tell you but you-“

“Y/N?”

Josie’s rushed whispers are cut short when Gray notices me and calls my name. He looks stupefied. I spare a glance to Josie and she’s paled.

She didn’t tell him.

“Hey,” I force a friendly tone. I was going to kill that girl.

“Did you all want a photo?” Josie’s friend Liliya shoulders her way back into the circle with the camera on a strap. She turns to Gray, “Babe?”

It’s an odd sensation, like all oxygen has left my lungs and they’re being squeezed as if tightened in a vice. Gray’s eyes drag away from me to his…girlfriend? Definitely not Josie’s friend.

It shakes me in the moment how much I realize I still cared, still carried a shred of hope for…something. And not consciously knowing this makes this moment feel a little like a slap in the face.

What did I think? I was going to leave this country for a year and people were going to pause where I last left them? Of course Gray’s moved on. Aside from the end he was a great partner and anybody would want that.

These thoughts race through my head in the few seconds Gray responds to his girlfriend and I look at Josie. She looks guilty as charged.

“I tried to tell you just now?” She whispers.

Deep breaths, I remind myself. You’re not the hot-headed y/n these people knew last. This day is not about you. It’s about Josie.

“It’s cool. Let’s get some photos,” I smile. “Don’t want to miss having them with you.”

She sighs but keeps her eyes on my face as we walk farther out.

“I am really sorry,” she whispers.

“Hey it���s alright,” I lie. This was the worst of it—Gray had moved on, had a great girlfriend, and I was living the life I wanted. No harm and no foul. “Honestly Jo I get it, you wanted me here reallllly bad.”

“I did!” She says. “But I’m also gonna kill Jax.”

I laugh and we straighten up when we realize the camera was already pointed at us. Josie flashes her degree and a few of her friends join the pictures too. We hustle back to Gray to see them and flipping back on the first few makes my breath catch in my throat. There’s one in particular where Josie is turned to me talking and my mouth is in a big grin because I’m laughing.

I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.

“Send me that one for sure wow Gray that’s a really good shot.”

“Oh wow,” his girlfriend peers over. “That’s a great candid.”

“Yeah,” I agree. I’d love a copy too. And of course that’s when Gray’s girlfriend notices me and introduces herself.

“I don’t think we’ve met—is that an American accent I detect?”

“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh!” Two spots of pink appear on her face. It seems she’s heard of me. “Well it’s nice to meet you—nice that Josie invited you! I’m Liliya but Lily works too.”

“C’mon!” Josie interrupts the awkward by grabbing her brother’s arm and pushes him in the direction of where her friends are posing for photos. He takes some shots but Josie hates the look of them and gives the camera to Lily instead.

With just Gray and I left behind it grows very awkward.

“I thought Josie told everyone I would be-“ I say just as he says, “I didn’t realize you would be-“

We stop and chuckle awkwardly.

“Sorry,” I shake my head.

“No,” he shrugs. “It’s cool. It’s cool you’re here actually.”

“Okay,” is all I can say. Until the awkward silence stretches. “So…Liliya?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”

I want to lie, but I shake my head. “No. Sorta needed the year to breathe a little.”

“Fair. How’s America?”

“Oh y’know, still super-sized and politically a guessing game.”

“Have you turned on our news while you’ve been down at all?” He raises a brow. I laugh because he was right. It was all a shitshow everywhere.

He asks me about my family as Josie jogs up to us.

“Okay, tell me the truth is my hair going flat?”

“No,” I look behind her where her friends are hovering over Lily and the camera going over their photos.

“Good. Where’s mum and dad?” Josie asks Gray. “Dad was just here 10 minutes ago he said he’d come by for—oh there’s mum! Look!”

We turn to where she points. Michelle—what I’ve always called Gray’s mom, spots her daughter at the same time and waves. She starts to walk towards us.

It’s nice to see her but I also feel a bit nervous; going cold turkey on relationships you only had because of an ex are always weird to come back to. Especially ones you were fond of.

“Mum! You’re missing all the pictures!” Josie says. “Where’ve you been!?”

“I just saw somebody I knew back from my first job as a librarian can you believe that?” Michelle says as she joins the group.

“Crazy. Well mum look who got to show up today! Isn’t that crazy too?”

Michelle looks at me and the bright smile that was intended for her daughter dies like a flower in overnight frost. The look wipes the anticipation off my face.

“Who?”

That one word shades the sun from the sky and brings forth a gust of western winds through the group.

“Mum,” Josie look between me, her mum, and Gray. She’s confused. “Y/N?”

“Hey Michelle,” I croak. Maybe my hair was too different for her to recognize me, or maybe she had early onset alzheimers. Surely this woman who I’ve had a better relationship with than her own son has wouldn’t be treating me like your worst frenemy at your high school reunion.

But Michelle looks right through me. I can’t explain how it feels, not in the moment. I’m gutted, and feel an unexplainable wave of sadness.

“Mum…” Josie sounds hurt and Gray finally decides to swoop in.

“Mum let’s check out the photos we took already. We gotta get some of the three of us.”

They walk away and I feel seven inches tall but I turn to Josie with a brave face and face her teary one.

“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.

“Y/N I’m honestly so sorry I-,” Josie blinks rapidly.

“No it’s ok!”

“I don’t know why she acted like that-“

“Hey It’s natural for her to feel that way I’m alright don’t get upset-“

“It’s not alright though! That was such a…she never acts like that.”

It was true. Michelle was a free-spirit as she called herself. That’s why Gray had such a hard relationship with her; in his words, she was too emotional and ungrounded for him.

Yet apparently, she was able to find enough ground to stand on when it came to treating me like a nobody. I wonder if it’s because she heard Gray’s biased side of the story or she was hurt herself—still, the way she’s always talked about herself never struck me as someone who would believe a one-sided story. Or be a bitch to someone they previously called their daughter. It hurt like a mofo.

I didn’t want Josie to find out this way, here of all places, that her mom was just human after all. She idolized that woman.

So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.

“She probably just feels betrayed by me leaving and stuff since we were close too. Imagine if Jax broke up with you and she gave him the cold shoulder—wouldn’t you feel justified?”

Josie scrunches her brows to think about the simplified story I’ve just fed her to feel better. I can tell it still doesn’t sit well with her but she nods in acceptance, “I guess.”

“Yeah, just forget it Josie. Plus you’ve got pictures to take so dry those eyes.”

“Shit I know,” she blinks some more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to invite you here and twist the knife at every bloody turn.”

“Jo I’m honoured to get to be here and see all your hard work pay off. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“It’s unfair,” she says before she drifts to her group of friends. “I feel like nobody understands how…how understanding you are. But I’m really glad we’re still in touch. And you came for me.”

Her words bring tears to my eyes and I nod, afraid that talking would bring them forward. I watch her crash her group and start instructing photo coordination. I help hold things for people while they take photos and feel like a stranger outside the crowd. If it weren’t for Josie, I think I would have regretted coming here. I feel homesick and unwanted. A tough combo.

I was supposed to crash on someone’s couch tonight and do brunch with Josie tomorrow before going back to London but from the last half hour alone I know I’m going back to the city no matter how late it gets tonight. I think of the hotel room that was home right now, of how lonely that was going to feel to go back to too.

Home right now was in America, in the same time zone as my family, and comfortable in my shared apartment with one of my high school best friends who I reconnected with after going back home. I miss it so bad. And I feel like I’ve bitten into an unripe fruit coming back to the UK before I was ready apparently. My experience feels soured.

I shake off the doom and gloom when the party breaks. We were all going to meet at the restaurant at 6–my plan was to explore the university city and find a place to kill some time in. Maybe go outside to a park with lunch. Josie tries to convince me to join her and her friends for their mid-day celebration but I lie and tell her I had some work to do.

I call Winnie on my stroll through the city. I insist she update me on last night first, and she has more to tell—the guy had a yacht and he was inviting her to a party tonight. She tells me to join if I came back early and we cross our fingers that Oretta wouldn’t need her before then.

I originally called her to rant about Michelle and Gray but I don’t, I didn’t want to kill her vibe. So I scroll through my other contacts but don’t want to worry my mom and it was too early back home to reach anyone else.

My eyes catch on Harry’s name, he was at the top of my texts currently because he sent me a link this afternoon asking me for thoughts on it. I hadn’t opened it yet, I wasn’t sure what to think about this new persona he was wearing or that he thought yesterday’s run-in went okay enough to casually message me for my thoughts.

I remember the weird electricity of yesterday and shove my phone back into my pocket.

He genuinely wanted to have a drink? And talk??

I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and you are missed.

Was he trying to make up for his cruel words? But he also seemed a lot more mellow than before. Maybe that was just because I didn’t work for him. What did he want? And was I twisted for believing the new schtick?

Most curious of all was him at the pub in the first place. He was not a local there—that was a big lie.

I try to conjure up my previous hatred, calling him the Devil in my head. But it’s harder to do. Seeing him yesterday, he was just a man standing in front of a woman with a head full of cautionary tales and bad experiences.

Without warning images from that night come back and I feel my heart flutter. I shut them down just as quick. Not all bad, my body tries to remind me. I tell it to shut up.

I’ve barely stepped foot in this country again and already my mind was running circles around my heart. How exhausting.

***

I’m early to the restaurant, before anyone else apparently. As the hostess finds my name on her floor plan Josie comes in behind me with Jax.

“Oh! Y/n you’re early!” She seems flustered.

“Yeah I didn’t think I would be,” it was only a few minutes to 6.

We make small talk while we’re led to the table, Josie’s eyes keep darting to where our table might be.

“Sorry I was hoping to do this before you came,” she says when we get there. There are name cards along the 7 seats and she picks the one in front of me. “I’m just gonna move mum to my other side so it doesn’t get weird. Which means she’ll be closer to dad but…I think he’s bailing since his girlfriend doesn’t want to do this.”

Josie shrugs, I know how she feels about her dad’s girlfriend. She begins explaining the plans she has to do dinner with her dad later this week and the more she talks the more I can tell that she feels awkward. And I hate that it’s because of me. At one point Jax and I catch eyes and pass an awkward smile.

“Josie,” I walk up to her fiddling with the name tags. She stops talking immediately. I grip her shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. I wrap my arms around her and she melts into me.

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s a disease.”

We let go with a laugh and she seems more stable. “This is going to be fine.”

Famous last words.

It’s definitely not fine and very awkward. Jax ends up sitting in front of me, and even though Liliya’s name tag was beside mine it’s suddenly swapped as they slide in and Gray sits beside me. I guess it might be too awkward for her but not awkward enough to fit someone we both dated between us.

I can sense Michelle’s pinched face as she notices us sitting beside each other and I feel badly for Josie the most as she tries to play the gracious host. At one point I sense Jax laying a hand on her arm and taking over, asking Michelle questions about her yoga and getting her talking.

“Did you need more?” Gray turns to me with the wine bottle, it’s the second thing he’s said to me tonight. Otherwise he mostly just watches me talk and leans back enough when others are talking so I can be involved.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. I didn’t want to draw any attention while Michelle was talking. She hadn’t said a peep to me, even when Josie tried to involve us both in a shared memory. She continued acting like I was Casper the ghost.

I can feel Lily’s eyes on us as Gray offers wine, of course they would be. No wonder Gray barely spoke to me all night. Fuck me, what was I doing here.

Jax is a sweetheart, asking me about my job and encouraging conversation between the both of us. I’m so happy for Josie that she found a partner like him.

By the time dinner is over I mostly want to cry. I feel spent. But I also feel like I crashed an intimate dinner and everyone’s polite enough not to mention it. Despite Josie, I do actually regret coming.

As we pay the bill and shuffle out, Josie grabs my arm.

“So I have two friends where you can crash at their place or Jax can sleep over at mine and you can sleep at his or-“

“I think I’m gonna head back to the city.”

Her face falls. But it’s like she knew I was going to say that.

“Sorry Jo. I think you should come to the city next week—maybe visit your brother? And while you’re down we’ll do brunch then. I’m mostly free while I’m here. I’m just pretty tired and have to help Winnie with something tomorrow.”

“Really?” She says in the smallest voice I’ve heard out of her. Salt to my wounds.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we were looking forward to getting time together.”

She juts out her lip and I’m reminded of the girl I met when I first started dating Gray. How she’d taken to me so quickly. How the whole family had. How things could end up like this.

And suddenly I see the future laid out in front of me. After tonight it would be hard to keep this relationship going—Josie and I. She’s just seen her mom be an unreasonable bitch for the first time, I can tell she’s been trying to compensate all night but the cracks won’t go away. It’ll always be a sitting duck between us.

We might try to stay in touch, maybe I’d reach out if I was ever in London or if she ever visited the west coast. But this would fizzle out.

She was still young and naive enough that her mom hung the moon and stars; mom’s beliefs were gospel, her opinions were rulings, and she’d just delivered my ultimate sentence: I was a black sheep to the family. How could sweet Josie walk through a mess like that?

“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her as I fight tears. “Congratulations again and thank you for inviting me.”

“Thanks. And you don’t have to be so nice. I know it was kind of a shitty invite.”

“No,” I insist. “I loved being here. I don’t regret showing up for you. I can’t wait to hear what you get up to.”

“I’m going to make sure to make it to the city next week,” she squeezes my arm. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“Exactly,” I look over at the rest of the group, where her boyfriend waits for her. Her family. “And I really like Jax, so good on you for that.”

“He…” she twists her lips, swallowing what she was going to say before vomiting it out. “I always aspired to have a relationship like yours and Gray’s. I never wanted to settle for anything less so that’s…that’s why Jax.”

“Hm I think you made us the bar and you leapt over it babe,” I wrap my arms around her again. I ache with the loss of what we used to be.

“See you soon,” she says before she drags herself back to the group.

I stand off to the side, awkwardly ordering an Uber. The group begins to walk the opposite way waving bye to me. I breathe easier without the weight of them around.

As I tap my foot in anticipation of the ride to the station arriving, I feel a hand tap my shoulder.

“Y/n,” it’s Gray. “Hey I…I just wanted to say something before you left.”

“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”

What was it with everyone wanting to say something to me.

“Uh…ok give me a minute,” he laughs in the way I know to mean he was feeling nervous. “I just sort of jogged back impulsively.”

“Yeah well you have,” I glance at my phone. “4 or so minutes.”

“Damn,” he ruffles his hair. “Alright. I think I just wanna say sorry.”

“Oh.” That was it. Everyone had something to say to me and the something was apparently sorry.

“Yeah I’m sorry. I…when we broke up I was so upset and caught up in my own head. I blamed you for everything. I think it only hit me when you just up and moved out of the country how things actually went down.”

I hadn’t told anyone but Josie that I was leaving.

“Yeah you were just like gone.” He continues. “I guess a part of me thought we’d get some space, maybe circle back later…”

“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.

But even I know what he means. He hurt me bad and it might be crazy stupid but on some level we were both aware we were in an ugly place and maybe with some space we might come back to the place that was good for us again. Maybe bump into each other one day, strike up a conversation, find there might still be a small amount of love left. Enough to water and grow again.

“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I hate that I hurt you like that. I regret…I actually don’t really hang out with that group of friends as much anymore. I sorta have myself to blame but I didn’t like who I was with them.”

I listen, letting him speak. It hurt too, knowing this was the Grayson I had fallen in love with. Kind and supportive, and now apparently he’s learned to communicate. Maybe that was a Lily thing.

“I guess,” he blows the air out of his cheeks. “I want to say I’m really truly sorry. I missed you a lot after you left. Nothing was the same and life was fucking hard. I wish things didn’t end the way they did and I stayed mature but I was just jealous and angry.”

I nod to acknowledge what he’s saying and watch him take a breath to continue.

“And I always appreciated how you never let us shake your relationship with my sister because she bloody loves you—I don’t think how mum treated you was right today but I never really understood her in the first place. I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” is all I can manage without making it obvious how emotional this was all making me. How one year could make me feel like a completely different person. How this man I loved, and still love in some way, could stand in front of me talking about us as something in the past. Because we were. Long past.

My phone dings with a notification that my ride would be here. We glance down and out into the street.

“Anyway,” he swallows. “I just wanna apologize. And say I genuinely hope you find love y/n. Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope you’re successful as hell in whatever you pour yourself into.”

“Thank you Gray,” I want to say I was sorry too. For what it was worth. But my car pulls to the curb.

I wave at the driver to let them know I’d ordered it and we walk the few feet to the back door.

I face Gray and open my mouth to say it. Say something more: how I appreciated his words, how I was sorry for how things ended too, how I hope he is happy. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I just stare at him, my eyes welling with tears instead.

Gray holds out his hand and I look down at it. I knew those hands well and it’s like walking into a place you used to frequent in the past and have memories rush towards you as you remember: those hands held me and wrapped around my own and comforted me, they made me food and stroked my hair, and carried my bags when they got too heavy. They once wore an engagement band I gifted, they once held a small box with a life-changing question I had said yes to.

Now it was just a hand.

I clasp it and he squeezes.

“I know,” he says, his eyes trained on my watery ones. He squeezes again and lets go.

I rush into the car, those two words nearly cracking me in half. I wave goodbye through the tinted window and feel a wave of despair that pulls me down into the depths of darkness.

Too much was happening at once.

My emotions spiral out of me and I feel alone in this foreign country; I needed comfort where none could be found.

I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. But on the train back to London I text Harry: is it too early to cash in on the drink?

His response is immediate: no, I was waiting for this text last night

I smile, despite myself.

Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.

H: For drinks?

Y: For drinks

H: Ofc.

***

The taxi drops me in front of the familiar building. I feel an echo of anxiety pierce through me as I go through the familiar doors. I nod at the concierge, the night replacement was new and I’m grateful nobody can recognize me making this potentially stupid decision.

For a brief second I wonder if Harry had other plans tonight but decide not to overthink it. He’d invited me openly. And maybe I was making a decision based on sadness and loneliness and grief and needing to be wanted but I make it. And I would make it like a grown woman—ready to accept the consequences.

I didn’t want to go back to my lonely hotel room. I didn’t want to call anyone and talk about what just happened. I didn’t have words. My body was taking the beating, feeling everything under the sun and now bruised and battered for it. I just wanted my body to forget that. And there was only one person in this godforsaken city that could help.

I’m let up to the penthouse and I forgot it had a distinct smell, wood-like and something indescribable. Weird that it felt comforting.

“You made it,” Harry comes into view in a simple pair of shorts and a long-sleeved white tee pushed up to his elbows. It’s the sleeves that really do it.

“I did.”

I leave my bags beside the elevator next to the umbrella stand, keeping my eyes on him. He doesn’t take his off mine either. I’m glad he doesn’t. Now I know he knows we both said drinks but meant something more.

He reaches out for me before I even get to him, and I know I would think about that later. A lot. But right then in the middle of his entryway I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes to reach him too.

His lips are soft against mine and he tucks me into him, his hand splayed out on my lower back. It feels like a return to a lover, someone who knows you, like I would’ve thought seeing Gray again would feel. But it’s just Harry, and the thought of baseless familiarity freaks me out a little.

The next time I feel his lips they’re on my jaw and neck and down to the base of my throat. He murmurs my name as he makes his way down and my body reacts immediately. He takes me by the waist and backs me up against the nearest wall, and I have a feeling I might fall.

I had made the conscious decision to walk into the devil’s lair because it was the only place I could get what I needed.

My fingers dig into his shoulders. My body wants this. Every part of me wants to pull him close and hold him and never let go. I wanted all of it tonight.

But I am so tired.

I put a hand on his chest and press gently. I can feel the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles and the beat of his heart as he pauses.

“Sorry, I should have started with a hello. That was too fast was it?” He whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.

I have a million answers, but nothing comes. He puts his hand over mine and I feel it as a shiver runs up my spine.

"Is this too fast?" he asks again, and I hear the worry in his voice.

I shake my head.

He gives a breathy laugh, "Then tell me."

"I think I-“

“Don’t,” he covers my mouth with a laugh. “Please please. Don’t think.”

I smile under his palm and he drops his hand, I can tell he’s proud of lightening the moment by the sheen in his eyes. The moment is tender in a way that takes me back.

He brushes back my hair and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his cologne.

“That’s not where I want to be kissed,” I tell him.

“Then where?” He plays along.

“Anywhere but there.”

He kisses my nose. “There?”

“Not there,” I open my eyes to look up at him. “I’ll have you know that was very snotty just an hour ago.”

He groans, “you really have a way of taking the desire out of a situation.”

But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond to his unasked question.

With that statement he takes a painful step back and I nearly slide down the wall without his support.

“What?” I ask.

“We should take that drink first.”

I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine, I realize miserably.

“What do you mean? I thought the drinks were just an excuse?” I ask.

He laughs a little, “Maybe tonight, but I really did want to have a drink with you. And talk.”

“Harry,” I groan. “I’m all out of talking tonight. Truly.”

“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.

“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”

“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“

“Just let me talk then.”

“Why does everyone want to talk!”

“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“

“You already did-“

“Properly.”

I cross my arms and sigh.

“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”

“So this isn’t a great thing then.”

“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.

“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.

“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”

“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?

But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.

“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.

“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.

“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”

He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”

“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”

“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”

“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”

“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”

I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?

My heart flutters amongst other things.

I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.

“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“

“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”

“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”

I nod along to his story.

“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”

“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”

“You’re judging me.”

“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.

“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”

He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.

“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”

“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.

“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”

He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”

“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.

“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”

“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”

“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had to be the villain in your story-“

“What?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”

I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.

“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”

“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.

“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“

“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“

“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”

I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.

Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.

My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”

“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.

“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“

“You don’t like my sensitivity.”

“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“

“Because of you.”

“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”

“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.

“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“

“It was really a lot of reasons.”

“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”

His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.

“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”

I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.

“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”

“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.

“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”

We smile.

“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”

His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.

I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.

“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”

“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”

“Same.”

His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.

His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.

We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”

Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.

But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.

“I want to do this.”

With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.

He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.

The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.

I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.

But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.

He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.

I nod.

He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.

It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.

He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.

He moves up to press his forehead against mine.

"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.

“What do you mean?”

“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“

“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.

"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”

“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”

He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.

I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.

I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.

"May I?" he looks up.

"Please," I whisper.

For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.

And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.

“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.

“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.

Love. I brush the word away.

He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.

I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.

Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.

Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.

I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.

On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?

I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.

But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.

Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.

And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.

These people made me so angry.

How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.

I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.

Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.

How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.

Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.

I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.

Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.

I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.

Damn.

What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.

What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?

“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.

“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.

“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.

“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”

“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.

A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.

Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.

“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.

He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.

Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.

“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.

“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.

“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.

“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”

“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.

“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”

“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“

“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.

“But-“ he says behind my hand.

“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.

“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”

“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”

“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”

So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?

***

It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.

But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.

We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.

But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.

Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.

Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.

We still get under each other’s skin.

The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.

I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.

“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.

“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”

“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”

“Coincidence.”

“Liar.”

“I’m an honest man.”

“Truth please?”

“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”

“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”

“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”

“Really? How?”

“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”

He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.

“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”

“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”

“That’s a strong word.” He argues.

“You. Stalked. Me.”

“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.

“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.

“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.

“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”

“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”

“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”

His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.

“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”

It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”

When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.

We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.

“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”

He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”

I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”

“Whatever,” I say with a smile.

“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”

We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.

“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”

“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”

“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”

He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.

“What?”

“Really? You think it was the artcles?”

“Well what else happened that-“

Oh god. Was I that stupid?

Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.

A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”

“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”

I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?

“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.

“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”

His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.

“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”

His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”

“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“

“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“

“Well you were-“

“Yeah alright-“

“Why did you really pull me away though?”

“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”

“What?”

I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”

My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.

“I was just your assistant though.”

“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”

“Yeah but-“

“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”

I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.

Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”

“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”

Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”

I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”

“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”

I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.

Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.

I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.

I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”

“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.

There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.

My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.

“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.

“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”

“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”

I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”

“I have a good feeling about it.”

“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”

I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.

“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”

“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”

“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”

I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.

“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“

“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”

He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.

“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”

“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.

He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.

***

I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.

I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.

I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.

So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.

I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.

I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.

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TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77 @harryspirate

🤍

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #musician!harry #harry styles series #harry stylesxreader #enemies to lovers #dos and don’ts #this is DONE #I HAD THE MOST FUN WRITING THIS I REALLY POURED MY HEART INTO IT #IM SO HAPPY ITS DONE #AHHH #I LOVED WRITING THESE CHARACTERS #EVEN THE FRUSTRATING ONES #fic #<3 #i considered an epilogue but firstly not enough space and secondly idk if this open-ish ending suited the series? #if you didn’t like the ending I’m sorry just consider the alternate ending to be right after the grad dinner #but listen distance and experience provides perspective so nobody stay mad #okk byee #love ya

[absolutebl]

Love in the Air & also the smell of burning trash

MAME’s adaptation of her novels “Love Storm” (พายุรักโถมใจ) and “Love Sky” (พระพายหมายฟ้า) this is a duology focusing on two different couples and their storylines.

Well, fuck me. 

This is your fault tumblr and I blame all y’all entirely. But yes, guess what this is?

Well, it’s me flouncing, but apart from that?

Another MAME dumpster fire marshmallow roasting trash watch. 

Some of you even begged for it. Or maybe if I’m a MAME character, you didn’t beg for it but I’m gonna gaslight you into thinking you did and then ruthlessly kiss your neck.

Look. I DON”T KNOW WHAT’S GONG ON EITHER.

Good start, ABL. 

Real good start.

You see what this show is doing to me already? 

Fortunately for the few of you who like unconsenting trash-watch neck kisses, and unfortunately for the rest of you, the opening of this bloody show made me realize that I had to do a trash watch. 

Take the neck kisses. 

Take ‘em and like ‘em. 

Without further ado, let’s get started. 

Episode 1 - WHHHHYYYYYY???????

The longest establishing shot in the history of establishing shots, Kubrik take notes. 

And what is it focused on? The gayest bridge in Thailand! (okay maybe not, but it looks a lot like it) 

Did the overdramatic music make me laugh? Yes it did. 

My brain on BL figuring out what is being trafficked inside those 3 big trucks. 

A bunch of acoustic guitars?

Vats of pink milk?

Stacks of white towels and plastic bowls?

MAME’s morals, value system, and taste? 

I’m a motorcycle rider and I’m still disappointed they were full of motorcycles. 

Speaking of which, is anyone reminded of the trailer for that one Thai BL called Motorcycles from years ago? It never got made. 

Cute meet cute in the rain with the umbrella. Styling trope drops, actually. 

Takes me back it does... 

Can’t knock MAME’s meet cutes. 

Just everything else. 

The Characters 

Rain = Random assholery disguised as tsundere + flirting + homophobia wee. Also kinda stupid, dramatic, and slightly cute.

Matched with P’Phayu = a bisexual predator-slut (TM) because MAME can’t leave THAT one to dry for one fucking show. Bonus seme points for eyebrows even more aggressive than he is. 

I like Sky = snarky bestie with solid moral compass and epic eye rolls. Maybe she’ll let him be cool? (Oh noes, I said something, he’s doomed.) 

Random bratty kid in the seat behind Sky = I have seen that actor before, damn it. WHERE? OMG it’s Dr. Sing from Triage! 

Look I’m beginning to get slightly weirded out over the age jumping Thai actors do. 

He’s in high school, 

he is an office, 

he’s in uni, 

he’s a doctor, 

he’s back in high school. 

Are MaxTul the only ones allowed to grow up? 

Okay, grow up = wrong term entirely. Whatever. Don’t distract me with MaxTul, where was I? 

Right, instead let’s talk MewGulf. Anyone else think MAME is gunning for that pairing style with this lead couple? PhayuRain giving me... vibes of the TharnType variety, shall we say? Not exactly, of course. So maybe not vibes, more sort of squint your eyes wiggles target practice?

Back to the... episode. 

I’m losing the plot already. Fortunately for me, said plot is pretty banal, but what do I expect? 

Also the pacing is odd. Things are moving physically faster than they should, but with no real establishing emotional connection. Again normal for MAME. It’s either emotional chemistry drawn out as unnecessary angst over the whole show, or physical chemistry shoved in your face like a wet waffle with an attitude problem. 

I don’t know enough Thai slang to know if the double asshole entendre was on purpose with this dialogue. 

But if it was, it might actually be the greatest line ever executed in a BL. 

And I am thoroughly ashamed of myself for thinking that.

Get it? Ass-shamed.  

To conclude: 

Screw all you all, I’m dragging you down with me into this hell (ass)hole. And since I highly doubt there will be lube, this is gonna burn like the dumpster fire it is. 

I refuse to take responsibility for anything I say or do around this dumb show, it’s @fandomwithjoy ‘s fault. 

Episode 2 - in which I do some actual analysis about VO work as victim blaming and then get distracted by spankings and scoop neck t-shirts 

Serious moment of film studies? 

Do I think we are getting Rain’s voiceover (narration track AKA VO) because otherwise it’s too dub-con and this is MAME trying to avoid complaints? YES I DO. Basically we get Rain’s thoughts during the “almost rape” stuff so MAME can say: 

“See? He actually wants it.”

Look, here’s the thing about having a character VO narrate anything, it’s clumsy. It smacks of not trusting the audience (to be clever enough to follow the story) or the actors (to be good enough to transmit the emotion) or the genre (to convey the world building in a show not tell manner). That’s why so many in the film industry are against it. (See the Bladerunner VO controversy.) 

Do many of my favorite BLs do it? (Cough cough.. JAPAN.) Yes. But then I’m not as against it as many because I like super complex world building and I don’t mind some lazy technique in the pursuit of audience comprehension. Also yaoi was all about head hopping. 

HOWEVER, I’ve never seen voiceover work used as an excuse for portraying dubious content before. Essentially this show is doing a victim blame version of VO.  

Ballsy of you, MAME. VERY ballsy. 

I don’t know if I should be impressed or appalled. 

Typical. 

The thing about MAME is, regardless of anything else you know you’re going to have a lot to talk about. I suppose that’s why she always summons a trash watch. 

Quick add from the future: 

I went off on Takara & Amagi because they manage to use VO to directly combat dubcon (or at least the issues with BL that lead to dubcon) in a GOOD way. So if you’re intersted in this technique working, you should 1. be watching that show and 2. read this post about it.

No booze tonight but that’s only because allowing BL to drive you to drink once a week is expected, but twice? That’s just schedule mismanagement. 

So next week I might delay Unforgotten Night for Thursdays and just decree: 

Thursdays = BOOZEY BADGAYDAY! 

Trashlush Thursdays? 

Eh, I’m more creative when I’m drunk. 

Moving on to the new ep. 

It’s a weird quirk of Thai that no matter what, they will not believe that work is not pluralized in English these days. 

Every time it’s translated plural I think of little Victorian maiden aunts doing good works for their community, knitting, or darning, or tatting. 

And now I’m picturing Payu draped fiber arts. 

Back to Daddy Payu... 

No. 

I can’t. 

He just doesn’t give daddy vibes. Bad boy vibe = yes, daddy = no. 

Back to P’Payu disciplining his bad boy in the bathroom. 

With... erm, neck breathing, I guess?

Still, oddly sexy.

Also... RESULT. Rain used polite (submissive) language. 

Am I taken with the idea of Domming for linguistics? YES I AM. 

Shall we try? 

Nong Thailand, NO MORE “works” FOR YOU! 

I will now breathe heavily on your neck until you stop sticking that “s” on the end. 

Nope, that didn’t work. Works. Ha! 

Question: Who the hell is directing this? It feels like Tee’s work but he’s not listed on MDL. *** 

Look the thing about bratty militant tsunderes without reason like Rain (or Type for that matter) is I fail to see why anyone likes him or wants to be friends with him, let alone fuck him. Fuck with him, sure. But he’s not hot enough to get over a bad personality. 

Sky deserves better friends! 

The seme’s race track consult. Nods in the general direction of Cutie Pie, like anyone could out-seme Zee and Max, are they cray cray? Body language alone. 

But could we talk about the sound in this not-Cutie Pie seme-conspiracy scene? It is so SO BAD. They just what? Hooked up some cheap-ass wireless mics during a wind storm and thought, why bother looping? Flipping heck. MAME’s got money, this is insulting, 

Moving on swiftly please. 

Poor Sky, abandoned by his so-called friend to be (presumably) seduced by greasy motorcycle dude with bad sound tech. (Yes I think that’s where they meet but we won’t see it until their section, which I’m guessing will be in the second half of the series. I believe we got a Star & Sky approach happening here.)

And now... 

Slap that baby, make him scream!

(10 points to the first elder goth who gets the reference.)

But also... 

A spanking! 

A spanking!

I had to, okay.

To my knowledge this is the first spanking scene in BL (Japan doesn’t go in for spankings as a rule, everything else of course). Thus Monty Python is required on such an august occasion. 

This is a serious, hallmarked event in the history of the genre.

Heh he. Hall...marked. Get it? 

Okay, I did find it cute that Payu chose a scoop-neck T for his boy, clearly we got a neck fetish going on. 

That’s it. 

That’s all I got. It was what it was, I’m not mad about it, just a little... okaaaayyyy. It’s MAME, no whiff of consent shall there be. I’m not excusing it but dub-con has just GOT to be her kink. 

Gotta go, works are waiting. 

*** Spies reported in:

Apparently the director is Neti Suwanjinda. He's new to BL who previously seems only to have done short films and music videos. Prior to that, he was bassist in the 2000s rock band Am Fine. Good times. 

NO SINGING

Episode 3 - Linguistic Domination is a Go!  

am one and a half glasses of wine in and ready to do this thing! 

Sky is the best boy and also kinda a little shit. Good combo. Like red wine and dark chocolate. 

Sky, are you trying to remind us that there is meant to be a plot?

Please don’t. 

I love how they called out English 3rd person gendered pronouns in one tricky little scene. 

THAI LINGUISTICS DOMINATION CORNER!

Okay so when he is being polite Rain uses Phi/pom + krap (with he full roll).

When he not being polite he still uses phi but he’s slipping in wa (instead of na, which makes it rude and informal) and not using krap at all (which makes it curt and impolite).  

So the little training session was about particle use. 

Cute. 

Then we got a date, I was very distracted by interesting food choices ordered off that menu, and am mad we did not get a good shot of the table after they were served the dishes. 

I’m starting to get tsundere Can vibes from Rain, and tsundere Tharn vibes from Payu. Not sure what that means except MAME only has about 6 character personalities she rotates though. We kinda knew that already. 

Well, this is BL. 

OH WAIT, is Sky gonna be like a snarky Pete character? Wouldn’t that be grand?  

And Dr Sing is playing the Techno of this drama. As always: never enough Techno. 

I’m not gonna explain that statement, it’s like 5 BLs deep.

All in all not a bad episode (not a good one, either).

Shoulda had more spanking, tho. And more wine. 

Ooo, wine! 

Meanwhile:

I just realized the actor playing Payu kinda reminds me of Seonghwa from Ateez and now I can’t stop imagining him in a cropped shirt and vinyl, and it’s BAD people. 

Episode 4 - I just... ARGH

Payu is just such a manipulative hot/cold arse. I don’t even like Rain and I think it’s cruel the way Payu jerks him around. You don’t train someone up and then abandon them for any reason. Payu is really pissing me off.

 Their chemistry is good though. That age old agony with MAME. 

I am going to state for the record that no one deserves Sky. Sky is too good for this show let alone his friends or boyfriends. MAME should leave my precious Sky ALONE. Sky is best cinnamon roll ever frosted. 

Meanwhile, cruel or not, I guess Payu’s training technique is working. I just wish it had been negotiated. I think I’d really like this show if they’d had a five sentence kink convo verbal contract in ep 1. 

It’s a dangerous game that we play

when we seek to rewrite MAME

for the characters stick

to just one pony trick

only chemistry will save the day 

Although I’m not sure ‘bout that sex scene. 

no opening condoms with teeth, I don’t care how sexy

no one can one-hand a glove that fast, not even a pro

no lube and no prep?

Look I’m just gonna pretend Payu was riding, makes me feel better about everything. Then I can pretend he took care of the necessities ahead of time. Or maybe it was just frotting? 

Episode 5 - In which MAME as officially ruined my favorite thing 

I’m not drunk but I am jet lagged and that’s almost the same thing. 

I see why they don’t have the seme actor with his hair down often, he looks way too young. 

Oh dear, baby was caught in the rain. Baby got sick. This is BL. Bound to happen. 

The horsing around flirty boyfriends is VERY cute. 

I didn’t get any more from the meeha bits than was translated. My stuff on wifey language in Thai BL is here.

These two are good kissers but it’s getting to be a lot of kissing. 

Sky puts up with epic amounts of shit. 

I guess MAME is preparing him for his own story line?

Get it?

Moving swiftly on from my crassness.  

Also Sky, baby, your friend was silly long before he got a faen. 

Oh yay!!!! A counter lift! That’s almsot as good as a spanking!

Hooray! 

WAIT.

What is this? 

NO SINGING. 

I now know the only time I don’t love a counter lift is WHEN IT IS COMBINED WITH SINGING.

MAME has ruined my favorite thing!

(To be fair she’s been ruining perfectly good BL for ages now, so I guess she already was ruining my favorite thing... gah, where was i?) 

A perfectly lovely counter lift mutilated by acapella. 

I feel like I should write an ode, or a dirge. But I wouldn’t ruin your day by singing it. 

OMG I’M SO UPSET RIGHT NOW. 

Don’t laugh, I can see you laughing.

I’m spiraling into a deep depression as a result of counter lifting Thai soloists. 

There will be nightmares. I tell you. Nightmares. 

I should have been drinking. 

Stupid MAME. It was actually a perfectly serviceable episode. 

Until the singing.  

I’m going to bed now.

Episode 6 - We Are Now Calling this show “The Taming of the Screw”

And by “we” I mean me. And you can’t stop me. Can never stop the bad puns, for they MUST live! 

 (source)

#trash watch gonna trash #Love in the Air #thai bl #episode recaps #trash watch #trashy bl #dupster fire bl #bad bl #good bl #i don't know if I like it #you decide #phayu x rain #tharntype #love by chance #mameverse #bl made me do it #run before it's too late #can't say i didn't warn you #this will be all snark all post #no quarters will be given #bl review #bl watch along #i'm taking you down with me

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Just to kiss me (Part 5)

pairing: Finnick Odair x reader

(AO3 mirror)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part 4, My Hunger Games Masterlist

summary: Life goes on. You get a message from Finnick. 

warnings: some light angst, but other than that, none.

required reading: The song "We'll never have sex" by Leith Ross &lt;;3

a/n: ....I'm gonna stop making promises I can't keep lmfao. It's exam szn rn and uni wants me dead tbh. But I promise I'll finish this fic if it kills me sooo… enjoy!

taglist (comment if you'd like to be added <3): @agent-grey-fics, @starhastoomanyfandoms

wc: 3.8k

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

You look perfect, you look different

I don't wonder about your indifference

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

You arrive to a quiet house.

Not that it was out of the ordinary. Whilst you weren’t the type to party from dusk till dawn, arriving home after a late day at work, or a night in with Vonnie, was fairly by-the-by. You liked the routine: kicking on your slippers and closing the front door with a quiet click . Your mother, of course, nowhere to be seen. Not that you’d complain.

This morning, however, feels different. Your body burns with the aftermath of the night before; and you practically float into the house. Your heart is heavy with what’s left after Finnick’s touch - you can’t forget him whether you wanted to or not. And you didn’t want to forget, the last couple hours on replay during the journey. You feel like a teenager again - giddy with the thought of seeing him again. You had given Finnick your number, as promised. Waiting for the buzz of the comms on your wrist would be agony, you’re sure of it.

You pad through your house absentmindedly. Past the grand double staircase, through the pristine rugs and floors of a parlour not oft used, and into the kitchen. You place the bag Finnick gave you on its floor, rummaging through the cupboards. Murmurs from your mother’s office, a room just beyond the parlour, break the spell. It stops you in your tracks: the distorted mumble behind the door. Your mother’s voice is distinct but you can’t hear what she’s saying. Is there someone else? Yes, you think, a man. There’s rustling, the swish of people standing up and then you hear it: a gravelly voice. 

Plutarch Heavensbee - Uncle Heavensbee - opens the door and you duck behind the counter, just in time. Your mother follows close behind him. There’s no predicting  what your mother would say if she saw you like this - clearly in someone else's clothes after an eventful night. 

“...and we need to move faster than anticipated.” Plutarch says. Your mother shuts the door to her office and shakes her head, seemingly frustrated.

“You know that’s not up to me.” She chews her lip - like you do when you think. “I’ve moved up the dinner, putting as many resources as I can afford into the campaign. I’ve been forced to recruit an idiot from Snow’s court, for God’s sake. I’m going as fast as I-”

“-Snow’s court?” He interrupts. “You don’t mean…?”

She brings a hand up to pause the white haired man. “...I know what it sounds like. You need to trust me.”

He nods. “I have my reservations, but I suppose-”

“We don’t have a choice.” She slaps a hand on his back, good-naturedly, and you almost keel over from your vantage point. She laughs - a genuine, hearty laugh - in the white and bronze of walls dripping in paintings. She walks him towards the door. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, old friend.”

“If anyone could do it, it’s you; Arachne.” He nods, warmly. They move out of earshot. In the distance, you hear the click of the door. 

You flop against the cool counter’s side, in relief. You know better than to internalise her words, curious; but knowing better than to pry. It had become second nature: flattening, playing the fool, turning a blind eye. Better blissfully unaware than dead. 

You brush yourself off, rummaging through drawers yet again. You look for something, stashed in the crevice of a drawer long ago. When you find it, you almost leap for joy - the silvered charm of a necklace heaped against the side. You clutch it in your palm and its stings, bittersweet.

~~~

You wait for a while, locked up in your room for the rest of the day. You’re restless; bouncing on the walls as you desperately try to fill the time. At first, it was the paperwork piled high on your desk - work you’d been putting off for a couple of weeks now. Steadily, you chip away at the files.

Trawling through them like the net of a fishing boat - some of it was for your own personal project, the rest were pages and pages of notes needing to be processed and uploaded. Your job was hardly exciting; preening in front of a desk for 8 hours. But, it was a job done all your own. It was the one thing you and your mother had agreed on fresh from the Academy - that you’d make your own way. Top marks, an early graduate, a brilliant academic record: you’d turned down other offers in lieu of a stunning career as a… glorified secretary. Not quite the plan, but it would do for now.

A buzz comes and you leap towards the comms long placed on your desk, out of sight. You shift in your seat to adjust your hair. If Finnick calls now, you want to look like you’ve slept a full 8 hours. Fumbling, you accept the call.

Vonnie’s face materialises on the desk in front of you. She's outside; an obnoxious hat flopping in front of her face. You recognise her background: the manicured back deck of Vonnie’s home and the buzz of her younger siblings clattering through rosebeds. 

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how hungover are you?” You groan at her glee. “1 being fresh as a field of daisies, and 10 being doubled over, shitfaced-”

“I heard you the first time, Von. I’m choosing to ignore it.”

She laughs, flashing pearly white teeth. Something mischievous brewing behind her smile, your sure of it. 

“How was last night, then?”

You pick at the pens on your desk. “Nothing special, I suppose.”

“...Is that all you’re gonna give me?” She’s exasperated at your nonchalance. “I’ve seen the videos! I want to know everything - who was there…”

“It was a masquerade-”

“What everyone was wearing…”

“I don’t know all the designers like you do-”

“The guy you spent the night with…”

That one catches you off guard. “T-That’s not… there wasn’t a guy … Von, c’mon-”

She tilts her head and gives you a look that says you should know better. You’d known one another for more than a decade and she can read you like a book: your facade was paper-thin and peeling, frankly. “Then where were you this morning?”

Fuck.

“I called, and no-one answered. You always answer.”

“I was… asleep?” You offer. She rolls her eyes.

“...and I’m best friends with Finnick Odair.”

You splutter. “It doesn’t… it’s not like that.”

Vonnie almost leaps out of her chair. “But something happened? There’s someone you’ve got your eye on?”

“...maybe.” 

She whoops and hollers so hard it makes you laugh. She’s up on her feet, dancing on the concrete, pulling one of her brothers to join her. Their joy is infectious - melodious giggles ringing around your own room. It’s like an old nursery rhyme: some-one’s-got-a-booy-friend, some-one’s-got-a-boooy-fr-

“It’s a dream come true! God, you’ve mean-mugged every single eligible bachelor this side of Panem,” The gap-toothed giggle of her brother comes through the call and she darts out of frame. 

“That’s unfair…”

“ Shut it, Val, or I’ll tell Dad you’ve been eating his-” There’s rustling on the other side as she pops back into view, flushed and panting. “D’you remember the guy you humiliated in Upper 6th?”

“He was a prick!”

“He was flirting ! That’s what people do, nowadays - they flirt.”

The Incident, as you’ve come to know it, happened a couple years ago. You were both in your last year of school, invited to your very first houseparty. Well, Vonnie had been invited - easygoing and friendly. You were like her shadow even then - sticking close to her in the pulse and thrum of the sprawling grounds. Too much money and time, you’d thought, dressed quite plainly in comparison to everyone else. Eventhough she had talked you through it on the pod there - who to look for, how to make small talk, the best places to avoid Jupe and his boneheaded antics. And it was going well, at first - you ate and laughed and drank - feeling like a normal teenager for the first time in years. Like people enjoyed your presence and didn’t shirk at you like they would in class. Like most things, the reality was much more mundane. It wasn't cruel, cold-hearted malice. They simply hadn’t noticed you were there.

Back then, in the kitchen of your classmate’s house; someone had pulled you to the side. Confident and sidling up to you with a glass of something in his hand. He stinks with the air of entitlement, the first son of such-and-such: attractive, sure, but not enough to warrant the reaction from Vonnie across the room, you think. You can barely remember the conversation; something about how good we’d look together and a clammy hand kneading at your thigh. The rest was a blur: a sharp right hook, and he’s on the floor clutching a bloody nose. You don’t regret it, honestly. You do regret the storm stoked by his asshole father, however.

“Did your mystery guy flirt? No, no. Not your MO. I bet he’s funny. Smart. He probably said something snarky and you fell head over heels for him.”

“Von-”

“You two, in the corner, whispering about how much everyone sucks, I suppose. Have you replaced me? Found someone else to talk shit with-”

“Vonnie!” She stops, eyes wide and innocent through the screen.

“If you want to shut me up, you need to give me something. Or I’ll keep going - and you know I can talk for the houses,” She threatens.

“We’re just friends, right now. I-I think.”

“...you think?” 

“He’s funny, of course he is. And kind. Perceptive, as well. I like being around him.”

She swoons, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead in faux shock. “You like him. In all my years …you like him.”

You groan again, head in your hands.

It’s nice, like this. Laughing with Vonnie about boys again. Like the last 24 hours were the plot of some soap you’d watch on the network when you were younger. She has a knack for this sort of thing; putting you at ease.

~~~

The first message from Finnick comes at work. You spend the first half of the day convincing yourself it doesn’t bother you; that you’re not at the beck and call of the chime of your comms. Not that you had many suitors vying for your attention, but there had been a few too many false alarms you'd jumped at. 

You're dropped off at Hadrian's offices; buzzed into the building by the Peacekeepers keeping guard by its entrance. 

"Mornin' Miss." You're greeted as you step through the doors, handing your keycard through the gaps of the glass by a desk. 

"Good morning, Dill." You nod as they scan it through. Dill, beaming in a crisp grey jumpsuit (standard issue), was the first person you met when you started the job 6 months ago. They were the closest thing you had to a friend in here - warm and kind as they took you around the office. You were quick on your feet but the unexpectedly fast-paced nature of the council had caused you to stumble, at first. 

"Didn't realise you were at the party."

You shrug. 

"I saw the pictures. How'd you get in?" 

"Hadrian invited me personally."

Handing back your pass, they snigger at your theatrics. "Must've lost my invite, then."

"Such a shame, Dill. You missed quite the party." Laughing over your shoulder, you tap your nose as you walk away. 

Your cubicle is simple, stationed at the mouth of Hadrian's personal chambers. He wasn't here yet, of course; oft preferring a 'graduated start to the day' . The speech he gave you on your first day sounded just as ridiculous as it did in the subsequent months: nattering on about responsibility and duty whilst he twiddled his thumbs for the best part of a couple hours. On the other hand, you were privy to his every move: every meeting, every phone call. On paper, you were responsible for data processing and handling: intending to overhaul his systems and software, like you had gone to the Academy for. In reality, you waited on his every whim and whine. A glorified secretary with the meagre wage to match. 

You were one of the lucky ones. As District 2's overseer, Councillor Hadrian had the workforce to match - most employed as security, button-pushers, or data entry. The man himself had the temperament of a spoiled cat, fancying himself a general, a commander, Snow's right hand man. A fool failing upwards, you thought. 

You perch at your desk, adjusting the tight collar at your neck. Your employer had strict standards and you were dressed as such: grey pencil skirt down past your knees, a starchy blouse with a straight collar and modestly heeled pumps. You itch at your stockings and stew at the screen, tapping away. 

When a buzz comes at your wrist you don't think anything of it. It's probably Vonnie, with a message about her dress; or your mother, stark and cryptid about her whereabouts. Another buzz comes. And another. And another. You tap at your comms and almost jump at messages. 

From: unknown

hey! 

From: unknown

think u forgot to return my sweater :p

From: unknown

this is finnick btw

From: unknown

not some creep or anything

Sent: You

You probably should have opened with that :) 

From: unknown

probably 

From: unknown

what r u doing rn? 

Sent: You

I'm at work, haha. 

From: unknown

the fancy office one, then

From: unknown

shit. is this a bad time? 

It makes you giggle, imagining Finnick on his comms somewhere. You can hear it in his voice: teasing, lilting. You peep out from your desk, hands darting to respond.

Sent: You

I’m doing a whole lot of nothing right now.

Sent: You

So no, not really.

From: unknown

slacking already…its pretty early, no?

Sent: You

It’s mostly fine… 

From: unknown

mostly?

Sent: You

Nothing’s exploded just yet.

There’s a rapping on the floor from the corridor over, which makes your head snap up. Hadrian, sharp and lithe, grey donned chin first into the room. You tuck away your comms, scrambling for his itinerary on the pad in front of you. He knocks on the lip of your desk.

“Anybody home?” His face curls into a grin: oozing pomp and ego. 

You force a smile, its edges terse and tight. You stand, tapping at the screen that's made its home in the crook of your elbow. “You’ve got a meeting this morning about arrangements for this years’ reaping, I’ve got the minutes for your call with Elland and-”

He gives you a wave as he makes towards his office. “I need you to push it back a couple of hours, I’ve got other… uh… business to attend to. And I needed those minutes yesterday, the situation’s changed: we need to double peacekeeper presence in 8-”

“With what money?” You scoff. He pauses, hand wavering over the handle of an ornate wooden door. It’s heavy, and takes up the span of half the room - gilded and embossed with glossy script. He cranes his head towards you like you’ve asked him to compete in the games, instead.

“With t-the… we can find money. Move things around.” He strides through the doors into a plush office. "It's what I pay you for. And I expect a revised budget by the end of the day."

He closes the door in your face and you scowl at the wood. Your skin crawls with the thought of the minutes you'd have to rewrite, the hours you'd need to spend sifting through the accounts. Move things around? On whose authority? The new budget would have to be approved by Snow, and there'd be questions, not to mention the tight turnaround-

With a deep sigh, you take a breath and unclench your jaw. You take a seat at your desk: Finnick's last message blaring at the band of your comms. 

From: unknown

famous last words, love

~~~

It sets the tone for the rest of the day, you think. You barely get a minute to yourself, putting out fires left and right. There's a stack of paperwork on your desk that grows and grows in your absence; it peers at you like a small mountain whenever you walk past, guilty. 

You send Finnick small messages here and there; the broken bits of a conversation spread between any spare moment. That ends up being a handful of times within a couple of hours; even less as you rush to finish a budget plan you've been expected to pull out of your ass. He makes you laugh. Between the haze of exhaustion and anger you find yourself wandering in and out of; it's a much needed break from your own head. He stops you from clattering about like the tinny ricochet of a pinball. You're convinced; if you shook your head around, it would rattle.

But Finnick is there, grounded and steady, to stop you from floating away. 

You don't expect it, when it comes. Later at night, after you've rubbed your sore feet and propped them up in the comfort of your own home. Swallowed by blankets and the comforter; plush and warm and swaddled like a newborn. Almost dozing off as you hear the dull buzz of your comms. A call. From Finnick. 

You don't hesitate to accept. It's voice only, and he speaks clear and calm between the walls of your bedroom. 

"Hey," 

"Hi." Your own voice is heavy with sleep, but it feels good to hear him. 

"This isn't a bad time, I hope? I know you were busy with work and everything-" 

"God, no. Like I said before, a whole lot of nothing."

"Good." He sighs. "I-I mean not good , per se, I just didn't know if you wanted to talk or-"

You scrunch your brow. He can't see you of course, but the way he's stumbling with his words, it's almost like he's… "Are you nervous, Finnick?" 

"No." A pause. "Maybe… a little. Just a bit."

You giggle. "Why? I don't bite."

"...this isn't weird? Not too much, too soon?" 

"I don't know what it's like where you're from. But around here, if you can believe it, friends call each other. They catch up over the phone. It's allowed." You say. 

"Fuck, okay. Okay," You might be going crazy, but you think you can hear him smile. "Then, as your friend, I don't believe you. For the record."

"What did I say?" You laugh. 

"That you did nothing all day. Don't believe it." 

"Slanderous accusations, Mr Odair. Where's your proof?"

"Well… the first is that you barely responded to me all day-"

"Maybe you were boring me, Finn."

"Highly unlikely." He waves it off. "I was doing all the work, by the way: riveting conversation - provoking, really trying to make you think -" 

"With such stunners as: 'Did you miss me yesterday?' and 'I'm so hungry I could eat a horse' -" 

"-absolutely gripping stuff, like I said. But that's not the point. The point is that you gave me nothing to work with. One word answers: brief, snarky - quite discouraging, honestly. And the only possible explanation is…"

"...is?"

"You were swamped at work." He seems pleased with his conclusion. "Up to your neck in paperwork, probably, putting out fires left and right. And, stop me if I'm wrong, left to clean up Hadrian's mess-"

"-that's all?" 

"Of course not. My second piece of evidence, ladies and gentleman, is: Hadrian's a prick. A self-righteous, pompous fuck who doesn't know up from down. There's no way he's got someone a-as competent and brilliant as you are, and not putting you to work."

You hum into your blankets, feeling your face flood with warmth. 

"And taking you for granted, stealing your ideas, etcetera, etcetera…"

"...but that's more implied." You finish for him. 

"Exactly. The third thing, the really important third thing, is… that you sound… tired." 

Your eyebrows shoot up. "I sound tired?" 

"I've got a hunch." He sounds more sincere. "You okay?" 

His gentleness catches you off guard. You're stumbling over your own words when you finally manage: "Y-Yeah. Just had a long day, s'all."

"You can talk about it, if you need to let off some steam."

"Not… not today. But thank you." You sink deeper into the covers. "What did you get up to, then?" 

"Not… much."

You squint. "Don't believe you."

"Wasn't very eventful, I promise." He clicks his tongue absentmindedly. "I just helped out Mags, not much else. "

"Mags?" It sounds familiar, but you can't quite place the name. 

"She's, w-well, she was my mentor." In the games was silent, implied. "We went over strategies and then I helped move some furniture. Fixing things up, doing what needed doing."

He didn't know where to put his hands all day. Restless, unable to keep still. 

"Like what?" 

"It's boring stuff, you don't want to hear it - trust me."

"Don't be stupid, I'm curious. Didn't take you for a handyman."

"Haha. It wasn't like that, anyway. She had these rips in her curtains, made from a while back. I spent most of my afternoon sewing them back together."

"...you can sew?" 

"Of course I can sew. Needlework, crochet, knitting. It's like tying a knot on a fishing hook; or making nets."

It's like breathing, you're sure of it. As simple as walking up and down stairs for him. Skills that stay with him well into adulthood; that outlines every step even this far from the sea. Rich with community and stories, and you envy him. In your house with stark white walls, you envy him. 

"I'm not really good with my hands - can't sew or anything to save my life."

"I could teach you." 

"....really?"

"Only if you want. But we'd start off slow; maybe some knots first, and then simple weaving patterns," You can hear the gears turn in his head. He's completely serious and the thought makes you dizzy, for some reason. 

"You don't have to, you know." You say, quietly. 

"I want to. It'll be fun, give me something to do instead of sitting around all day."

"Fun? That's one way to phrase a couple of hours with me." You laugh. 

"What does that mean?" His tone makes your voice die in your throat. 

"Just," you chew your lip. "A joke, mostly. I know I'm not the easiest to be around. So you don't have to… pretend or anything."

He doesn't speak for a bit. You check to see if he's still there, your only indication light breathing in the background. 

"I know what it's like to pretend, but this isn't…"

There's rustling, the creak and bustle of something, like he's sitting up. 

"Fuck… I wanted to see you again. I want to spend time with you. I mean it."

Soft, you whisper. "Okay."

Shakily, he repeats it: like a chant, a prayer, a spell. 

"I mean it ."

_

_

_

#finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x capitol!reader #finnick x y/n #the hunger games #the hunger games fic #angst #slow burn #Spotify #thg #thg x reader #kat_writes😼 #hurt/comfort

[neptunedivine]

my 2023 solar return observations

(tw: possible eating disorder mentions)

I was looking over my solar return chart yesterday and it made me very nervous. When I get nervous I feel better writing everything out. So that’s what I’m going to do :)

✨natal north node year✨ ✧ I turn my north node degree this year! My NN is Gemini 11H at 21° and in combination with everything else going on in my solar return, it does amp up the anxiety for me. I feel like I’m gonna be shoved into my destiny because I’ve been stalling for so long (well not stalling as avoiding, but not taking the leap(s) I need to out of fear).

8H stellium ✧ tbh I just wanted to address the obvious in all its glory before I tried to dissect it any further. Transformations feel like they’ll be a focal point this year, like heavily. But then again looking at the planets that make up this stellium (aside from Chiron), it doesn’t seem too bad? We’ll see.

Virgo rising at 3° + mercury as the chart ruler in Pisces 8H @ 29° ✧ I taste a lot of criticism in the air (mainly from myself but we’ll see). Some of this energy looks familiar because natally I have my mercury in Pisces in the 8H but @ 10°. Virgo is on my 3H cusp natally as well. Naturally knowing myself I feel like writing is going to be the focus for the year. Since my natal NN is also ruled by my chart ruler this year, I think I’m going to be pushed to really start making music this year. Especially since mercury is conjunct with my sun too. I think putting more time and dedication into it will change my life? (I’ve been viewing a lot of readings lately telling me that my passions and creativity will grant me great abundance so this could be in association) There could be an emphasis on me speaking my truth as well. Possible recognition as well with it being at 29°? It feels intense not only because it’s a fame degree but it’s the fate degree and conjunct with the Aries point.

Pisces sun 8H @ 28° ✧ I’m used to the placement but not in the 8H. With it being conjunct with my mercury I feel like this could be related to me shedding a bad mindset or patterns in my habits this year? (I feel like this pairs well with my Saturn placement which I’ll talk about later). As well as finding a trusted source to have deep conversations with (possibly a therapist) seems very likely for this year.

Aquarius Moon 6H @ 19° ✧ I think I will be very analytical and regulatory with my emotions and my feelings this year. Instead of feeling everything and questioning everything and feeling lost, especially with the possibility of a therapist, being able to dissect the reason for why I feel certain ways may happen. I also spiraled a lot in the past year so there could be a sense of grounding brought into the year.

Taurus Venus 9H @ 2° + + NN @ 4°+ Uranus @ 16° ✧ I don’t see myself traveling really? I could travel to somewhere beautiful, but since my natal venus is in 9H too this would be a continuation of my love for other cultures. A possible love interest from a different country or uni could be possible, but my guides know for sure that I’m not looking for that right now…right? Idk I’ve been very career driven for a few years now and I don’t see that changing. But who knows since my SR Uranus and NN are in the same house lol. Speaking of Uranus here, please for the love of God let this not play with my degree. I'm supposed to graduate next spring.

✧ I’m just now noticing how many feminine degrees there are that inspire creativity (Taurus (2°,14°,26°), Libra (7°,19°), and Cancer (4°, 16°,28°). Pretty cool. ✧

Gemini Mars 10H @ 26° ✧ Pairing drive (Mars) with curiosity (Gemini), this could relate to my passion and writing outside of the box of what is expected from me, or who I'd expect. (I have a list of talent that I really want to write for and I think about them when I write songs sometimes so that could be relevant). Or I could be just collaborating more? I’m not sure with the 8H stellium though. Oh! A drive to learn new things maybe? I’ve always wanted to get into production but with it being so white cis-male dominant it felt gatekeepy. But miraculously I have I think enough tools to figure out a good part of it independently.

Aries Jupiter 8H @ 16° ✧ I keep reading good things about this placement and I’m very excited about it. I could be receiving a large sum(s) of money this year (scholarships?). Also, this placement is not only conjunct with my natal venus but MC as well, so this energy could be amplified since having Venus/Jupiter in the 8H are very strong wealth indicators, but I could be gaining monetary abundance or just abundance in general towards my career somehow.

Pisces Saturn 6H @ 1° (tw: possible eating disorder mentions) ✧ I was watching a tiktok a few weeks ago about Saturn going into Pisces and what that could mean. They mentioned an end to things that relate to escapism, which makes sense since in modern astrology Pisces is ruled by Neptune, like overeating and procrastination. I feel like both of those topics would be covered in my life this year since the 6H rules over the physical body and health, but also the daily and routines. There could be a theme of cutting the bs and getting in control of my life in these areas. My Chiron natally is in the 6H so this has been a struggle I’ve been dealing with for a while. I don’t know if the "problem of Chiron” will be resolved but I think significant improvements could be made.

Pisces Neptune 7H @ 25° ✧ I don’t have the energy to be delusional in love this year please abeg. I have Neptune in the 7H but in Aquarius, so there’s an element of this that I’m used to. I could be continuing to manifest my dream partner? Because I do that every day when I listen to love songs and I really enjoy it. But a real person? In the flesh? Right now? Absolutely not, pass.

Capricorn Pluto 5H @ 29° ✧ I have my natal pluto in sag at 17° so I’m used to some of the energy but I think with it being Capricorn which rules over hard work and discipline rather than the freedom sag grants, I will take my passions seriously enough to make moves. Personally, I stress so much about making music and my skills and being really talented and getting everything right but I don’t do anything. I just sit in my charged obsessive energy. But hopefully, I’ll make the right moves this year. Recognition worthy? Possibly with how much 29° is popping up in my chart.

Taurus MC @ 29° ✧ The idea of getting recognition for my passion and my work feels very daunting for me because I don’t feel ready at all. I'm very perfectionistic with my passion. I'm so adamant about making it my career and being very well-known for it. I get very nervous about f*cking up. Regardless I don't think this year cares I might be shoved into the position to be seen, maybe not at its height because I glanced at my SR for the next two years and they feel like extensions of this year, like in acts.

that's all for now. see you later! :)

#solar return #solar return observations #astro notes #astrology #astro observations #solar return chart #solar return 2023 #north node #north node year #pisces saturn #pisces saturn transit #saturn transit

[faela404]

☆ The Library ☆

kazuha x gn! reader

prompt: - you and kazuha attend the same university, him being a english lit major and you being a person in stem😎 your paths never crossed until that day in the library…

*this is an smau so please do expect a lot of twitter posts and messages to read, there will be proper writing too but, it will mostly be that!!*

warning! mentions of a fight, swearing

masterlist - prev | next

☆ let the fight begin ☆

“you made it!” his cheery voice echoed across the small hall.

“of course we did, childe! we wouldn’t have missed this for the world, right y/n?” ganyu smiled at me, god her smile’s so pretty

i nodded towards her before quickly wishing childe good luck as he was dragged away by his coach. i’m honestly a bit afraid for him, i know childe is a good and very capable fighter but, it would still hurt so much to see him getting hurt in anyway.

guided by ganyu, hu tao and i found our seats as more people began piling in. the crowd soon consisted of friends and some family of the boxers, curious students from our university and even a few of the professors turned up.

the seats next to me sadly weren’t empty so i couldn’t stretch out like i wanted too. however, it quickly became clear to me who was sitting in those seats.

those tuffs of black and teal hair made it undeniably obvious; xiao. he was an IT major known for being extremely quiet and almost quite rude, though frankly being friends with scaramouche makes it hard to find anyone else rude. he was scrolling through his phone when we sat down, the seats next to him were empty though from the looks of it people were going to be sitting there. bags, coats and all kinds of winter wear were lined up neatly infront of each seat. now i like to keep warm sure, but i highly doubt all of those belonged to just xiao.

my thoughts were cut short when a loud voice began booming about all the different kinds of slushies they had. the twins had arrived, along with 3 other people i couldn’t quite make out. aether continued to enthuse about these wonderous slushies as the 5 new people began shuffling in next to xiao.

finally, i could begin to make out all of their faces.

aether and lumine were the first i saw, and they were the only ones not currently trying to get to their seats, i assume they’re sitting at the end of the row. lucky bastards. next was gorou, a humanities major with beautiful ginger and white hair, it’s clear he takes a lot of pride in the way his hair looks. finally, 2 final boys squeezed in, one next to gorou, who i quickly figured out was albedo, the nice biochemistry major who offer a lot of tutoring sessions in subjects he doesnt even take. he so smart it’s actually kind of crazy, almost unhuman like. then there was one next to xiao.

holy shit, that’s kazuha.

i really didn’t think he’d like something like boxing-

though in all fairness i’m only here for childe, so perhaps he’s the same.

or he loves watching people fight, who knows.

my attention was swiftly snapped from the pretty blonde when the first round was announced.

tartaglia vs. osial

round 1

…of 10

and then the winner fights someone else.

this is gonna be long.

finally, after 5 rounds (all won by childe), a break was given for the fighters. im pretty sure that doesn’t tend to happen in boxing but, because they’re both only uni students, it has to be given.

ganyu and hu tao, quickly excused themselves to the bathroom, though if i’m being honest i’m almost completely certain that hu tao’s only going because lumine went a few seconds ago.

i pulled out my phone and began mindlessly scrolling through twitter and instagram as the people around me began shuffling around. they probably need the bathroom or a drink.

however, i didnt notice how only the majority left.

it took his words for me to realise.

“and then there were two” he mumbled so lightly i hardly even heard him. i turned towards the sound of his voice only to find that indeed all of kazuha’s friends had left aside from him.

there was only kazuha and i left on this row.

“oh- hey, sorry i didn’t realise” i chuckled lightly

oh theres that melodic laugh of his again, “it’s alright” he shuffled into xiao’s seat next to me “are you here for childe too?”

“hm? oh yeah i am, are you? i didn’t realise childe are you were friends” i smiled lightly at him as i placed my phone back down, i don’t want to seem rude damn.

“ahh yeah, i’ve known him for quite a while now. though we don’t get to talk as much as usual”

i frown slightly “oh, why’s that?”

my eyes widen a fraction, oh shit. shit. shit! i can’t ask things like that! what if it’s private? or embarrassing for him? or for childe? god he’d kill me if i embarrassed one of his other friends or worse, childe himself-

before i could freak myself out even more, kazuha smiled and responded “we both just got quite busy, but i do enjoy these times when i can see him”

god he’s so sweet. his voice is just undeniably soothing, i swear every worry i had prior just floated away.

that calmness was quickly eradicated.

the screeching of the whistle ruined it.

the sixth round was beginning.

our friends quickly began appearing again, but kazuha didn’t make an effort to move. even when xiao returned, he just lightly smiled to him and turned back to the match.

xiao didn’t seem too bothered, well he never really does, as he swiftly sat down in kazuha’s seat.

the fight was long but, atleast i had someone to talk too. while, my friends were next to me they were way too engrossed in the match to want to talk even a little bit, but kazuha just randomly began whispering things about the match to me. things that were going wrong, excitement over childe landing a good punch, laughing at all the silly faces that each fighter made after getting punched.

he’s actually quite entertaining, quite funny.

maybe we could actually be decent friends.

atleast, then i wont have to be alone in the library right?

a/n - omggggg this took way too long for me to write lol, im quite literally the ruler of procrastination😎 but, here ya’ll have it! chapter 4!! i hope ya’ll enjoy it! i think i say this every time but i really do mean it, i appreciate all of ya’ll’s continued support of this series! and thank you all so much for getting me to 100 followers!!🫶🫶

(i literally threw up and had my cat pull the christmas tree in my room down onto my other cat while writing this-

they’re both fine dw but good god a lot happened while trying to write this PFFT-)

taglist - open! @kazuhaprnt @ryhie @scaraapologist @thissoulisnotok @kazuhalvrr @rifran @sleepyhamster1001 @mccnstruck @micahmxi @whipped-for-fictionals @sashiette @kozumieee @lazy-sanns

bold= blog couldn’t be found

#faela404~🍓🍰writes #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin au #genshin impact #genshin smau #kazuha x reader #hu tao #kazuha #childe #ganyu #xiao #gorou #albedo #faela404 #hope you guys enjoy #🫶 #smau #faela404~ 📕🍰the library

[vincess-princess]

in darkness shall you be reborn

Chapter 13.

Word count: 3073 Warnings: a bit of violence, i guess? A/N: hi hello it's me just a month after the previous chapter. my classes started and every day im running to work and then to uni across the entire city like a headless chicken so i don't really have much energy for anything else. but i'm gonna try hard to keep posting semi-regularly at least!

Vince’s guess proved true when he climbed the stairs to the hatch and peered outside. The pirates gathered in the middle of the deck in a circle, and within it there was movement and frequent, irregular clunking, each eliciting cheering or booing from the pirates. Occasionally he could hear Nikki shout. Vince hesitated a bit, pretty convinced it would be unwise to show up after Nikki so explicitly disapproved of it, but his bitterness over the recent humiliation prevailed and he climbed onto the deck and walked behind pirates’ backs until he distinguished Mick’s.

“Vince? Whatcha doing here?” Mick asked, startled when Vince patted his shoulder.

“Wanted to see what’s going on. I’m always missing all the fun.”

“Well, you have. Happy now?” Mick wanted to add something, but his voice drowned in Nikki’s yelling.

“Tom, are you trying to show us a minuet here? What’s all this leg-kicking? Feet firmly on the floor, shoulder-width apart, knees bent, or you’ll get knocked down immediately! Bobby, push him! See, you almost fell! You gotta be steady as a mountain or you’ll get trampled. Get in the stance now. Lower! Bend your goddamn knees! Alright, that will do. Bobby, push him again. See? Didn’t sway a bit. Now keep that in mind as you go for another round. Three, two, one, go!”

The clunking resumed.

“Oh yes. Finally it’s not me he’s yelling at. But – fencing lessons on a pirate ship, really? And you all are fine with him bossing you around like that?”

“Well,” Mick sighed, “you too admitted that the motherfucker is damn good. And you can’t let your skill go rusty, not in our walk of life. Besides, it’s a good way for the guys to blow off steam.”

“Can’t wait to see you in action.” The respect the crew and even the captain held for the cook was obvious, and Vince was dying to know what caused it. Mick didn’t look much of a fighter, but pirates were the kind of people who only respected brutal force, so there must have been something Vince couldn’t see – not yet, at least.

“You won’t,” Mick ruthlessly thwarted his hopes. “Twenty years ago, maybe. Now my bones won’t let me.”

“You don’t take part in raids then?”

“Close combat is not the only way to take down an enemy, y’know.” Mick patted his holster. No other explanation was needed.

They watched Tom lose to Bobby again when the wooden sword of the latter smashed into his wrist with a crack – hopefully the crack of wood – making him cry out and drop his weapon. His opponent was two heads taller, his arm as thick as Tom’s leg. Tom wasn’t capable of taking his opponent down by force no matter how hard he tried.

“The right stance here won’t help, not with their size difference,” Vince told Mick. “His endurance is also lacking. The longer the fight, the smaller his chance to win. The guy’s only hope is speed. He needs to focus on that.”

Mick gave him a long, hard look.

“You really think you know better than Nikki? He took you down in a couple minutes.”

“I know my theory.” Vince shrugged. “He, on the other hand, seems to be an intuitive type. He honed his own skill to perfection, sure, but he’s got gaps in his overall knowledge of the craft. For example, how it can be readjusted for different body types.”

“Well, your ‘knowledge of the craft’ didn’t help you much,” Mick said sharply. Then, seeing Vince’s hurt expression, softened somewhat. “You better keep it to yourself. Nikki’s not gonna like it if you go around undermining his superiority like that.”

“No one would listen to me anyway,” Vince huffed. “He made sure of that.”

“I wouldn’t be so convinced,” Mick smiled mysteriously.

“What do you mean?”

But the old pirate refused to elaborate no matter how hard Vince tried, and soon Vince gave up and switched his attention to the new pair of fighters in the ring. Slash and Duff were inseparable even during the training, Vince thought, as he watched them get into positions.

This fight was quite a bit fairer, as Slash’s almost snake-like agility compensated somewhat for Duff’s height and weight advantage. It could only do so much, though: multiple times he got too close to Duff to land a blow powerful enough to knock down, and imminently had to retreat when facing a counterattack.

“Are there, like, rules for the fight?” Vince whispered to Mick. “Or just freestyle?”

“Only one: the fight goes on until one is downed or disarmed.”

“No prohibited moves, nothing?”

Mick looked at him like he was an idiot. “The only exception is the eyes. Everything else is fine, as long as they don’t get too excited. Limit them now, they will never show their full potential in a real fight.”

“And if someone gets seriously injured?”

“With a wooden stick? Don’t be ridiculous. Anyone who’d let that happen doesn’t belong on the Shout. And Izzy’s here eating our food for a reason.”

Vince involuntarily searched the crowd for the skinny, black-clad surgeon. To his surprise, next to him he spotted a familiar ginger head.

“So almost everything is off limits then.”

“I’ve been trying to say that the whole time.”

“Then why doesn’t Slash go for Duff’s crotch? He’s gotten close enough several times by now. Duff’s completely open, he won’t have the time to parry or dodge. It’s so obvious - but Slash doesn’t seem to notice.”

Mick looked at him with amusement.

“Damn, you’re vicious. Maybe he just doesn’t want to be a dick, you ever thought of that?”

“Alright, not the crotch,” Vince backed down, belatedly realizing that he too wouldn’t want to do it to a friend. “The knee’s open as well, and you can topple anyone with a well-placed strike there- Oh. That must have hurt.”

Duff’s sword collided with Slash’s shoulder with a loud crash, kicking the weapon out of his hand and almost knocking him to the ground. Slash staggered back, grasping at the hurt shoulder with his left hand and cursing like… well, like a sailor.

“Sorry, mate!” Duff raised his hands in an apologetic gesture, but Slash spat on the deck in disdain, turned his back on Duff and walked away proudly, plopping down onto a bench just a few feet away from Vince and Mick. Duff frowned, but didn’t follow him; instead he handed over his sword to the next combatant and disappeared in the opposite part of the crowd.

“Slash, you gotta learn to lose!” Vince heard Nikki’s voice. “And also work on your grip!”

Pirates in the circle laughed. When Slash showed them the middle finger, they laughed louder. Vince swallowed a lump of yearning in his throat; it slid down his chest and stomach, coating his insides in cold slime. This laughter was so different from what he was always getting. Not jeering and mocking, but light-hearted and good-natured, the one you would hear from your friends when you trip over. But they weren’t his friends and would never be.

Vince hastily kicked the unwanted emotion into the back of his mind and forcefully smoothened the frown on his face before turning to Mick and speaking to him as cheerfully as he could.

“Wow. Did I just see the inseparable couple separate?”

“That’s not for long,” Mick waved his hand. “Slash only gets pissed at Duff when he loses, which is almost always. But he comes around quickly. Wait and see, they’ll be thick as thieves in an hour again.”

“Well, no wonder he loses all the time. His grip is fine, perfecting it further won’t yield much use. His problems stem from trying to use a strategy not fit for his capabilities. He’s pushing forward like he’s got all 200 pounds in him, and of course it doesn’t work. He should make use of his agility instead.”

Mick sighed.

“Do you just turn a deaf ear to me every time I open my mouth? You won’t like it if Nikki learns you’ve been shit-talking him. That includes talking to me. You never know who might be listening nearby.”

Vince couldn’t help but look around suspiciously, a chill creeping down his spine. There were several pirates nearby, but all of them were captivated by the fight. Were – or just pretended to be?

Then he looked back at Mick and grew even more uneasy.

“You wouldn’t…?” he trailed off, recalling everything he told Mick over those days on the Shout. Were Nikki to learn some of that, Vince would be fucked.

Not a muscle moved on Mick’s face, but his features as though sharpened, lines on his face deepened, and the chilling-blue gaze turned outright freezing.

“I’m not a snitch, princess. I know how to keep my mouth shut. That’s why I lasted so long here.” He looked away, crossing his arms on his chest. “You know, if Nikki had learned about your midnight stroll, you wouldn’t be sleepin’ in the galley no more.”

“Oh. Right.” Vince’s guts twisted into a knot. Did he just turn away the only friendly face on this ship? “Sorry, man. I never thought you’d do something like that.”

“Thinking is not a sin. Running your mouth before you think is.” Mick’s voice was still cold, sending Vince further down the anxiety spiral.

“How many more ways of saying ‘shut up’ can you invent?” Vince scrambled to come up with a joke to test the waters. To his relief, corners of Mick’s mouth curved into a smile.

“Definitely not enough for you to actually do it.”

“Well, who else is going to provide you with unwelcome yet high-quality commentary then?” Vince smiled, feeling the knot in his stomach loosen. This felt damn close.

Mick let out an exaggerated sigh. “If only you did your goddamn job with the same zeal… Y’know, if you’ve got so much energy to spare, maybe I should increase your workload?”

“I don’t like the direction this conversation is taking.”

“The only way to stop a conversation is to-“

“Fine, fine!” Vince groaned. “I’m shutting up.”

They watched a few more pairs of fighters. The majority of them were surprisingly decent, somehow turning the absolute lack of technique into their advantage. Those that didn’t manage to do so probably didn’t last long in this profession. Some, like Axl, functioned entirely on uncontained rage, which worked up to an opponent intrepid enough not to piss his breeches at the sight of an armed to the teeth pirate charging at him with insane eyes and a naked blade. Judging by how long Axl managed to last on the pirate ship, though, this tactics must have been working pretty well.

The ring emptied, and a strange silence descended on the ship for a moment before the pirates erupted in exulted cries. Vince couldn’t understand what caused it until a few seconds later, when he saw Nikki and Tommy walk into the ring, wielding real, steel rapiers.

“No way,” Vince could only mumble, watching them get into positions. “They’ll kill each other.”

“Relax, princess.” Mick looked at him condescendingly. “They do it all the time. Haven’t had any accidents.”

“Yet.” Not that Vince would mind Nikki getting impaled or, God bless, even killed, but it was much more likely to happen to Tommy, and, as backhanded and humiliating his protection was, it was still protection. Mick could only help Vince when on his territory; behind the closed doors of Nikki’s cabin Tommy was the only one capable of bringing Nikki to his senses.

“They know what they’re doing. You’ll see.”

The two pirates drew their rapiers.

Last time Vince only saw Nikki and Tommy in action together was at a periphery of his vision that was already clouded with rage, and then Nikki got him too fast to really understand anything except that he was damn good. Now Vince could see them properly, and that sure was a sight.

They started off slowly, even languidly, rapiers pointing to the ground, steps soft. Tommy attacked first – leaped forward, rapier flashing in the sun. Nikki ducked, his hair flying; a loud clank, and Tommy jumped back just as effortlessly, grinning from ear to ear.

Almost immediately – another strike, a whoosh in the air, another rapid retreat. Tommy pranced around Nikki like a young thoroughbred, showering him in quick, untargeted stabs, never too long in one place for Nikki to land a counterattack yet neither gathering enough momentum to penetrate Nikki’s defense. Not that it was even possible: not once had Nikki opened up enough for Tommy to land a hit, firmly standing his ground, parrying with short, precise movements, never move more than a step away from his original position. If Tommy wanted to exhaust him through endless attacks, he only achieved the opposite. His style would have worked on someone with worse reflexes or less steady stance; Nikki had neither of those things, so Tommy’s strikes, flashy as they were, grew shallower and more predictable as he depleted his energy. He wasn’t really to blame for this, though: so far Vince couldn’t spot any fault in Nikki’s move set, detect a single miscalculated movement. There really was not much to be done in this case.

Tommy must have grown tired and lost his focus, but Vince spotted the moment Nikki shifted his weight forward to counterattack earlier than the first mate. Chary and discreet – unexperienced fighters would even think lazy - in his movements before, now he charged forward with such force the lines of his silhouette blurred for a split second. Vince flinched, as if it was his stomach the cold steel was going to pierce. There was no way Tommy could parry that.

And Tommy didn’t. He swirled in place, turning his body sideways – rather awkwardly, but it worked. Nikki’s rapier stabbed the air mere inches away from his skin and withdrew just as rapidly when he returned back into his initial position, restoring the defense sacrificed for a daring move.

The pirates cheered and clapped. Vince looked at Mick round-eyed.

“This isn’t a performance. It’s real.”

“Of course, it’s real. This ain’t a circus.”

“He almost got him.”

“The key word here is ‘almost’.”

“A fraction of a second later, and we’d be wiping Tommy’s guts off the deck now.”

Mick pursed his lips in exasperation. “You don’t have to watch if you’re so faint-hearted. Nobody invited you in the first place.”

“It’s not about me,” Vince bristled. “It’s about your captain and first mate fighting to death and you all just watching.”

“Since when you’re so worried about them?” Mick narrowed his eyes. “Do you want me to think all your shaking and sniveling and midnight walking is just a show then? Because you go on like this, I might just start thinking that.”

Vince froze, mouth half-open. Yeah, he’d rather Mick spat him in the face than say something like that. And he thought hearing the faking accusations from Tommy was hurtful. Turned out it was a splinter next to Mick’s backstab.

“You think I’m faking?” he asked, his voice two tones higher than he wanted it to be. “You think I’m secretly enjoying it?”

Mick rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t think anyone would enjoy that. But to me, you do get too dramatic about it. A whore gets the same treatment as you every night, but you don’t see them lining up to throw themselves off the docks. And their pay usually only covers food and lodging, which you get for free here, so no benefits in that either.”

“You’re saying I’m overreacting.”

“I’m saying that you don’t realize how much worse it could have gotten for you if Nikki hadn’t decided to keep you here. You think they’d waste your pretty ass away at a plantation, like the rest of your crew? Ha. There are things that even whores won’t do, and that’s where slaves come in. And from what I’ve seen on you, Nikki’s actually pretty mild in that regard.”

“You call that mild-“ Vince began indignantly when a loud thump interrupted him, drawing his and Mick’s attention back to the fight.

Nikki, who up to this moment kept tight defense with only a few quick attacks here and there, went into assault. If Vince hadn’t seen him in that state before, the sudden change in demeanor from what seemed as careful and unwieldy, sluggish even, would have come as a very unpleasant surprise. It would also most likely be the last surprise of his life. Nikki’s blade moved so fast it was more akin to a silvery gust of wind; his whole body was like a string, receptive to so much as blinking of the opponent, almost predicting it. A chill creeped down Vince’s spine: he didn’t even realise during their incredibly short clash how damn deadly the pirate captain was. It even seemed as if he was purposefully holding back during their fight.

Tommy held up to his second-in-command status pretty well, though. It was clear how much his movement coordination lacked compared to Nikki, but his reaction and distance perception were incredibly well-developed for a self-taught former child beggar. His technique, or rather the mastery with which he employed the lack thereof, would first induce a heart attack in Vince’s swordsmanship teacher, who then, after being brought back to his senses, would offer to teach the ingenious savage free of charge. It wasn’t a surprise Tommy stood out among the rest of the pirates, and it was pretty clear Nikki chose him as his first mate not just because he and Nikki were a thing.

But the continuous attacks of the first half of the fight exhausted Tommy, and now Nikki made sure he didn’t have a single moment to catch his breath. Vince could see Tommy’s movements grow jerky and spasmic, his reaction time getting longer. His imminent defeat was a matter of a couple of minutes.

Vince’s estimate was very close: one hundred and fifty-two seconds later (he counted) Tommy miscalculated a step and ended up closer to Nikki than he intended. The punishment for the mistake was fast and merciless. The rapier rattled against the wood of the deck as Tommy collided with it with a loud crash and a pained groan. Nikki stepped up, lined the tip of his rapier with Tommy’s twitching Adam’s apple.

“You lose,” he said, smiling.

#motley crue #nikki sixx #vince neil #tommy lee #mick mars #motley crue fanfiction #my writing #in darkness shall you be reborn #it really feels like my writing from half a year ago (this chapter) is so much better than my current writing #i havent been writing much lately (not of my own will) because i have no energy left for it #and what i read i read in russian #so my english gets worse #i dont even scroll tumblr much

[widowbitessting]

Hypothetically, if R were incredibly sleep-deprived and was found out to have not yet slept despite the time being 8am, what would the trio say/do?

Hypothetically. Definitely not projecting, nope. No idea what you mean. I sleep just fine. 🙃

Ask and you shall receive! You best get to sleep anny!❤️

Gonna tie this in with a few asks I got too! Thank you so much for your asks! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get to them, hope this is okay for you all

skittles-1312 asked:

Hi, love the Sugar Mummies series so much. I was wondering if you would ever do a fic for it where the reader has assignments due for college and isn't taking care of herself so wanda, nat and carol step in? if not its no worries :)

daughter-of-avalance

submitted:May 13

I feel like reader would totally forget to eat/sleep if they got busy with uni work and that just wouldn't fly with the mommies/ or they would be over tired and be disrespectful by accident and be like oh shit afterward 😂 (again, I might write something different for this prompt, so I’ll keep it open!) xox

piperlikesallthings

submitted:May 23

Hey! This prompt submission is slightly self centered haha! I was wondering if you could do something based on the reader having a hard time studying for an exam, and how SM would help? Thank you so much, and I do have to say I absolutely love this, you’re a wonderful writer! (For this one I won’t check it off as I might write something else for you!) xox

All of my work is 18+

Now this has been in my drafts for another piece of work over on AO3: Give Them a Kiss to Dream Of but I don’t think I’ll post it on there for a while so enjoy!💋

❤️💋❤️💋

The second Wanda wakes up, she knows you’re not next to her. Gone is the constant little bundle of warmth that had been nestled into the side of her for the better part of an hour, replaced now only with a cold space that tells Wanda you have been gone for quite some time.

Crafty little menace, Wanda thinks, using my own plan against me.

With a groan and a stretch, the red head rubs her tired eyes; knuckles catching the crusty specks of sleep that had congregated in the corners and rolls her aching shoulder until it cracks. She can hear you typing away frantically at your keyboard: can visualise you sitting back at the breakfast bar, with a fresh mug of your favourite coffee steaming next you, and your h/c hair up in that messy bun you tend to shove it in when you’re stressing about things or rushing around. Personally, it’s one of Wanda’s favourite’s looks on you. She can’t help but picture it to be the hairstyle you would opt for whilst on your knees before herself and Natasha and Carol; mouth open like the good girl you are; or perhaps it would be the hairstyle for your punishment for not listening to Wanda. And, oh, how Wanda would enjoy watching the loose bun in your hair jerk alongside the rest of your body with every perfectly aimed smack on your ass…Wanda would love to greedily reach down to seize it with a fist - force you to keep your head up and accept the spanking from Natasha while Carol just watches from her chair…

Stop! Wanda drags herself from her thoughts, with a lot of reluctance, you can do that later.

“I’m gonna need backup.”

You don’t even look up from your computer when Wanda leaves the room. You barely even acknowledge her presence when she comes back in five minutes later, a very irritable Natasha behind her. It isn’t until the door slams - the sound of it echoing loudly around the room - does your head snap up; eyes already widening with fear as your eyes make contact with Natasha. Behind her, stands Carol, who looks equally as pissed as her other half. Under different circumstances, like maybe when your life isn’t in immediate danger, you might even have made a comment about Natasha’s fantastic bedhead and Carol’s silky pink eye mask that hangs around her neck. But you don’t. 

You offer both women a small smile, ignoring Wanda who just looks so smug. Natasha eyes narrow and she moves straight for you and you launch yourself off your chair, hands outstretched in front of you.

“No! No, Nat - Nat please!” You’re practically scrambling around the kitchen in a weak attempt to escape the furious redhead. “Come on, please! I gotta work!”

You flail as she makes a grab for you and somehow keep out of her grasp. Carol walks around the other side in an effort to corner you. 

“Y/N.”

“Sleep can wait, Nat, c’mon!” You frantically look at the blonde, “Carol, please!” 

“Y/N, I swear to God; come here!” Natasha pounces. 

You’ve almost made it in a full circle back to your laptop - and you have every intention of grabbing it and running straight for your room - but of course, Wanda is there with your laptop cradled against her chest. You stop just before you collide right into her.

“Traitor.”

She winks at you. “I know.”

You let out a defeated sigh and accept your fate when Carol gets to you. Effortlessly she scoops you over her shoulder, and, without a single word, she carries you from the room.

“Y’know; if I fail this essay I will actually blame the three of you.”

Wanda and Natasha walk behind you both, hand in hand.

“If you fail, you get another attempt to do it and more time, no?” Wanda asks.

“...I guess…”

“Then blame us all you want.” Natasha replies.

“And how can you possibly be writing anything decent when you’re running off no sleep and caffeine?” Carol asks.

You shrug. “It’s a student thing I guess.”

Carol walks you up the stairs as Natasha says, “Well this student needs rest.”

“No I don’t.” You mumble, earning a swift smack to your upper thigh from Carol. You let out a little gasp. “Hey!”

The doors your shared bedroom open and before you know it, you’re being hand delivered to the bed.

The blonde dumps you down, where you bounce a few times on the mattress.

“Get in bed, Y/N.”

You go to argue but the sheer look alone that you’re getting from Natasha is enough for the words to shrivel up on your tongue. You purse your lips and follow the order. The second your head hits the plush pillow, you instantly feel your eyes getting heavy.

“Sleep, Y/N. I mean it. If I dare get woken up again and find out you’ve left to get your laptop - that I am going to personally hide myself - I will throw it out of a window. While I make you watch.” Natasha raises a finger when you go to argue. “Don’t think that I won’t.”

You know she isn’t lying. Clint, Natasha’s best friend, still hasn’t forgiven her for his arrows.

“Actually - if I find out that you’re doing anything but sleeping from now until...let’s say...1pm...then I can personally assure you that your laptop won’t survive. Got it?”

Fuck.

“Yes, ma’am. Got it.” 

“Five hours. That’s all we’re asking, detka.” Wanda adds softly. “Once you’ve slept, you can get back to your work.”

“Maybe.”

“But for now, go to sleep. Recharge that tired little brain.” Carol leans down to kiss your forehead. 

Natasha is quick to do the same. “Now sleep.”

“Aren’t you coming back to bed?” You can’t help but ask in a small voice. 

The three women, who all stand around you, all share a glance. 

“It’s 8am baby girl. If you wanted to sleep with us, you should have come to bed when it was actually bed time.” 

You can’t help the pout that forms. Wanda quickly kisses it away. 

“How about I stay? Until you fall asleep, at least.” 

“Okay!” 

“Wanda, I swear to God, you better not distract her.” Natasha says. 

“Cross my eyes and hope to die.” 

“Heart.” Carol corrects. 

“Heart what?” 

Natasha lets out a small laugh. 

“Nothing, bunny.” She pulls Wanda down for a kiss before pushing her towards the bed. “Just sleep, yes. Nothing else.” 

“We will find out.” Carol adds on. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Wanda says as she clambers over you. The second her warm body is under the duvet alongside you, you nestle into her and relish in her body warmth. 

You’re already drifting off. 

“We’ll come and check on you two in a while.” 

“Okay.” Wanda whispers, her fingers finding their home in your hair where she begins to scratch at your temple. 

By the time Natasha and Carol shut the bedroom door behind them, you’re already fast asleep encased in Wanda’s arms; and you dream of nothing but them. 

❤️💋❤️💋

#sugar mommies #sugar mommies!asks #sugar mommies suggestions #sugar mommies universe #sugar mommies: world building #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #carol danvers #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #reader insert #wanda x reader #carol x reader #natasha x reader #y/n #wanda x y/n #carol x y/n #natasha x y/n

[the-sixxth-sinner]

Mask of Sanity

Aviable on AO3

Fandoms: Mötley Crüe

Characters: Nikki Sixx

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Sex, drugs & violence; underage (implied) sex; non-con; exaggerated drug-induced psychosis. Proceed at own risk

Summary: Nikki goes batshit insane. Again. 

A/N: I first started writing this around when I was reading American Psycho, which was like, back in April 2021? It was my first smut ever and it made me cringe with every word I wrote down lol but looking back at it now, I think I didn’t do that bad of a job. For this reason, in fact, I promised myself I would try to finish it, years later. In conclusion, if you can read this you’re very lucky

I wanted to imitate both Ellis and Nikki’s writing style with this, and i used nothing but sheer will, fantasy and a quick skimming of the heroin diaries as my resources (other than American Psycho itself of course), so if its not accurate or you think i could've wrote it in a different way please bear in mind that i will not accept criticism, constructive or otherwise, at this hour. thanks <3

Knock. 

«Comin’» I enunciate from the other side of the room as I sniff up the last line of blow I put down on the bathroom’s counter.

It must be that chick the boys told me they’d send my way once they finished with her. I'm still not sure why I didn't want to join them in the fun... I told them I just wanted to be alone, have some peace and quiet. Yet, I’ve been pacing back and forth my hotel room the whole fucking time like a rabid mongrel in a rusty cage that is too small. I’ve downed maybe five Halcions with half of a JD bottle and a quarter of an eight-ball and it’s only 2 am. My brain feels like it’s running a hundred miles an hour and at the same time the outside world looks like it’s melting in slow motion just before my eyes. I'm starting to hear voices again. To hell with peace and quiet.

Knock knock.

«Ya, ya, I’m coming!» This is annoying. What’s the fucking rush?

I raise my head up taking a deep breath in. I glance at my reflection in the mirror, I try to relax my face muscles in order to not look like a complete lunatic. I exhale and roll my eyes; I give up: I don't think it’s working.

Knock.

Jesus Christ, do you want to get murdered?!

I move across the room with long strides. I feel my whole body jittery, my hands are shaking. I open the door abruptly. 

«Is this… Are you...» The chick looks both surprised and shocked. 

Shiiit, they fucked her up. She can’t stand straight without leaning on the door jamb, her voice is shaking, her makeup and hair is all ruined, her clothes half torn, her skin has been covered in bruises and God knows whose bodily fluids. She doesn’t look the age she wants to pass as.

«Sixx, yes.» I nod, cracking up the best smile that my mental state allows me.

She relaxes and clears her voice. «Tommy told me you were all alone, so… I thought I could pay you a visit» She smiles, raising the bottle of whiskey she had in her hand, trying to be as charming as possible. She gazes me up and down with her big shiny eyes. Rhinestone crystals drowned in alcohol.

I shrug. «I could use some company.» Thanks, T-Bone!

I wasn't planning to have anybody join me in my descent to madness, but something awakened in me as I glanced at this girl’s now ruined innocence. There's something so arousing about her desire to be completely destroyed and be a disappointment to her parents that I can't just back away.

I open the door wider to let her in. I check the hallway to make sure if there’s anybody else. «Are you alone?» I ask. 

«I mean, like, I came here with Vicky but I think she either passed out or choked on Tommy’s cock? I don’t think there’s any point in waiting for her...» she blathers.

«Don’t worry,» I wrap my arm around her shoulders. «You’re gonna do just fine…» 

The door closes behind us.

Cut.

I look at her as she strips in front of me, slowly, sensually, without breaking eye contact. Her movements are clumsy due to her drunkenness, but that’s what adds to her uninhibited charm. 

My vision gets hazy all of a sudden, as I watch her dance in slow motion, probably looking like somewhere between mesmerized and fucking stoned out of my mind. Yet, I feel restless, and I start to feel the instinct to jump onto her like an animal with its prey.

I get up from the bed and pick her up by her bare waist in a swift movement, which made her yelp in surprise. I throw her back on the mattress, rip the rest of the rags off her body and start going down on her, gently pulling her labia apart with two fingers and sucking on her clitoris and licking her juices. The girl bucks up her hips and moans in pleasure. I position myself better on my knees, then I pull her closer to the edge of the bed, grabbing her by the waist and making her spread her legs more. I press my hands down on her thighs, hugging her lap, and I bury my face into her heat. I lap her pussy up and down, groaning like a dog in heat, thrusting my face into it, going from wide licks to tracing small circles around her clit and penetrating her with my tongue, sucking off all her fluids that are pouring out like a delicious fountain of youth. I feel her losing control of her body, thrusting her hips against my face as she moans louder and I go faster, until my jaw hurts and I remain completely breathless.

«Please… please please please keep going!» she begs.

 I raise my gaze to her for a moment. I can hardly make out the silhouette of her biting her own fist. My mind is foggy, I can barely form coherent thoughts. But the whispers… Those are clear. I try to ignore them, concentrating on the task at hand of making her a slave to lust.

I bury my face between her legs once again, penetrating her with my fingers and tongue.

The girl’s moans and whimpers are slowly getting louder and higher in pitch, blending together with the voices in my head. I feel her getting tighter around my fingers, until she squirts all over my face.

«S-Sorry…» She murmured.

I stare at her for a few seconds. I let out a laugh, licking my lips.

I climb over her body. «Ready for round two, baby?» I whisper in her ear.

«Uh-huh…» She nodded.

Suddenly, I am hit with a wave of dizziness. My head is spinning and my fingers are tingling.

As I get up, I am met with a confused gaze.

«What are you…?»

«I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t move.» I winked at her.

I slam the bathroom door behind me, breathing heavily. I am sure I am about to throw up, but that satisfaction of vomiting your guts out never comes. I decide to take a line of zombie dust, so that if I do something awful to the girl, I won’t have the memory to regret it afterwards.

Cut. 

I enter the bedroom, where the girl is still laying in bed. I grab the Jack I left on the bedside table, and take a good swig of it, feeling it burn inside my throat. I hand out the bottle to her, in a “You want some?” gesture. She gladly accepts.

«Have you ever done blow before?» I ask her, as I sit on the bed and she drinks.

The girl shakes her head.

My eyes widen. «Didn’t Tommy share with you?»

«Nope.»

«Well…» I get up, pulling a bag out of my pocket. «You’re in luck, ‘cause I’m feelin’ very generous!» I grinned. I want to ruin you so bad...

She gasped in joy. «You’re the best, Nikki!»

I quickly prepared two lines to sniff, one for each of us.

Cut. 

I’m on top of her, fucking her tight pussy, grunting and panting like a beast. Her hands are all over me, and my back is covered in scratches. My mind is racing at a million thoughts per hour and I can’t grasp a single one of them. All I want in this moment is to fuck her, ruin her, use her, reduce her into a mindless sex toy for my own pleasure. I hear voices that I don’t know what they’re trying to tell me, I see shadows in the corner of my eyes that I don’t know what or who they belong to. Her moans are the only thing that snatch me back to reality, but soon even they become faint and the voices are more insistent.

I pull out.

The girl tosses a disappointed look at me, with languid eyes. «Nikki…» She stretches out her hand, trying to pull me closer. «Why did you stop…?»

With a jump so swift even I got surprised by my own mental alertness at that moment, I grab the girl by the jaw moving closer to her.

«Ask for it. Beg me. Say my name.» I demand grinding my teeth.

She swallows and has fear in her eyes. «Please. Please Nikki, please I beg of you» She lets out in a small voice.

I strengthen the grip, lifting her chin. I let out a beastly breath in her ear: «Not. Enough.»

She stares at me, her eyes wide in terror.

«I SAID NOT ENOUGH!» Nikki punched the girl with brutal force, making her scream in horror. He was breathing heavily, eyeballs out of the sockets in shock. A trickle of blood started running down the girl’s nostril. A drop of translucent fluid dropped on top of it. Nikki brought his hand to his face: it was his saliva. He was drooling like a rabid dog.

Nikki had his grip tight on her neck, and kept hitting her, making the blood flow on her face and her porcelain doll skin break, until her screams stopped. 

Nikki let go of her throat, his breath short from the violent frenzy. He looked down at his trembling hands, the knuckles stained in red, then he looked at the girl. Admiring the bloody mess on her face, Nikki felt his whole body tingling with an undefined sensation: he had a rush of adrenaline, horror and ecstasy all at once, but he wasn’t completely sure if those were the right sensations, the right terms for what he was perceiving. The voices were getting clearer and louder, telling him to do horrible things to her.

Nikki touched himself, to then enter inside her, and began thrusting.

The girl was slowly coming to her senses and as soon as she noticed that Nikki was violating her, she started screaming, kicking and pushing Nikki away with her hands, who promptly blocked her mouth with one hand and pointed his switchblade knife at her throat with the other. «Shh-shh. You wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, trust me…» He whispered, with a smile that hid the devil. 

Her eyes were filled with tears in supplication, her body paralyzed in fear.

Nikki forcefully pushed himself inside her. «You like that, huh?» The whole bed shook. Muffled sounds came out of her mouth. The blade touched her skin at every thrust. «You like being fucked by me until your insides hurt, don’t you?» He rammed once more and there were more suppressed cries.

He stopped for a moment and leaned closer to her: «Answer me.» Nikki breathed, baring his teeth. He pressed the knife against her jugular, cutting her skin. A trickle of blood streamed down her throat and chest.

The girl shook her head. Her whole body was trembling.

«Wrong answer.» He stabbed her in her stomach, making her cry in desperate pain like a wounded fawn.

Nikki traced a bloody line with the blade on her pale skin, stopping at the height of her heart. He could feel her breath accelerating more and more under his knife. He shot a glance at the girl, who had her eyes wide and pleading, with tears running down her cheeks, faint whimpers coming through her covered mouth.

«No one can hear you scream, you stupid slut.»

Nikki raised his armed hand.

The sound of the blade slicing through flesh.

A silent scream.

Blood gushing out of the girl’s breast.

Nikki pulled out the knife from the girl’s chest, and dug inside the wound. With the help of his switchblade, he ripped out her skin like fabric and then her heart, still pulsating, and observed it with fascination; he felt its warmth and weight in his hand and then he licked the blood dripping from the torn arteries. It tasted like death. Then, he dropped it to his knees.

Cut.

I wake up in the bathroom, with a massive headache and generally feeling like shit. I barely remember why I am here in the first place… I try to recall what happened a few hours before, but in vain. I take a glance at the toilet: it’s filled with vomit. Huh. Must’ve been a wild night. Getting up, I notice red stains all over the sink. What the hell…?

Suddenly, my heart is racing, my palms are sweating and I am scared to look at what’s behind the bathroom door, left ajar.

With a deep breath, I gather all the courage I have in my body, and I open the door.

Jesus Christ…

I slowly enter the trashed room, carefully, warily, like if there were landmines all over the pavement. There are red pentagrams and writings all over the walls. A real, human heart is taped at the head of the bed. Then, I see it: the body of a girl, lying lifeless on the mattress.

«What the hell… What the fucking hell!» I scream, recoiling against the wall, horrified at the realization of what I’ve done.

Knock knock knock.

«Sixx, get the fuck up! We have to leave in ten minutes!» Doc’s voice from the other side of the door made me have a fucking heart attack.

«Uh… Yeah, I’m coming, gimme a minute!» I try to sound as relaxed as possible but my heart is pounding in my throat and my voice is quivering. Just then, I realize my hands are still covered in blood. I quickly go to the sink to wash them, but they seem to never come clean. I come back to the bedroom, and I throw the windows open.

I need to get rid of this body.

I wrap the blood-stained bed sheets around the girl, almost throwing up from the anxiety and the smell and the guilt that are all eating me inside out like flesh-eating beetles. I pick the corpse up and bring it to one of the windows.

«I’m so sorry I did this to you.» I whisper, with tears in my eyes and a despaired tremble in my voice.

I throw the body out of the window.

I open the door of my hotel room and I am met with Doc’s stern gaze.

«You look like death. What happened?» He asks, squaring me off.

«Oh, nothing.» My eyes wander somewhere behind his shoulders. «Just a bad trip.»

I don’t think he bought it.

«Whatever, get your ass in the main hall.» Doc steps aside to let me come out of the room. «We have an important interview this morning: behave or I’ll send Fred to kill you.» He looks at me in the eyes, stressing the last words.

«Can’t promise anything.» I mumble.

«Excuse me?»

«I mean… Yessir.»

«Good boy.» He gives me a pat on the back and starts walking.

I follow him, glancing at the room one last time. I take a deep breath, trying to calm down, but I can’t shake off the sensation that someone is watching me behind my back.

#sinner writings #mötley crüe #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fanfiction #mötley crüe fanfiction #motley crue #motley crue fanfiction #yes i have serious problems i know #and i am ready to have all the shit thrown at me for that #and i cant blame you. however. i have my reasons okay. and sometimes those reasons are hhhrrgghnnnh insane men covered in blood........ #anyway to those who are as deranged as me: enjoy <3

[archandshri]

8th March ‘24 - [arch] colour!!!! community!!!

Hey Shri! <3 

Wow!!!! I’ve seen the finished Brothers Lionheart cover already, but those thumbnails are just incredible. I know you plan to move away from the dark/horror vibes of those images but they’re so impactful!! For sure save those compositions for something else. You’ve put so so much thought into those compositions, it’s inspiring me to put that level of thought into my images too. It's nuts!!!

So y’know how the plan for this blog was to take it easy and do a little at a time? Maybe just pop in and update each other on what we’ve been working on, or even what’s been inspiring us? Well, we haven’t exactly been taking it easy have we :// At the beginning of writing this I thought it was gonna be a chill one but,,, it turned out not to be.

I was lucky enough to be back in Cardiff for a bit the other week, so I hit up the Riso studio. It was super lovely seeing everyone - really made me realise the value of having an artistic community. (for context, I have been travelling recently and it’s been weird, after uni, to not be surrounded by other illustrators)

About once a month, my shared print studio has an event called Open Haus, where we’re open to the public but also loads of members will come in, have a cuppa and a biscuit and talk about art stuff. I happened to be doing some riso printing and Gavin, who’s a right babe and an excellent riso artist, was once again giving me a hand. I love working with other people in the studio, bouncing ideas off them. It sometimes helps me get out of my head (though with practice, I’m also learning to do that by myself!)

Here’s a bit of development work for the print I did a few days before printing. It was actually a bit of development for my comfort characters’ home - but as you know i love building my skills through fun things like that! Trick yourself in to improving xD

This is the print I made!! It’s titled ‘Space Fyn’, named after a place I associate with home <3 

I ran into a bit of an issue with the blue, which I originally planned to use. Once I printed it, I hated it (blehhhhhh), so! We tried a mint out instead. I still didn’t like it. But thankfully, Gavin did this thing where he made me step back and view it from afar and then I liked it again (this has happened twice now I think I need to learn to step back without his help ://) Also, there were about 10 people in the studio, and they all voted on the mint, so I printed a run of 15! (ps. you can order them by dming me on Instagram)

Later, I was showing a friend the progress and she made some great points. The dark blue gives more of an evening vibe, while the mint gives more of a sunrise vibe, a bit brighter. But also, it totally changes the tone! This has led me to think more about how different colours can be used for particular vibes :0 and how can we bend that and make it more interesting than ‘red danger’ and ‘blue sad’. 

Some notes I took from our conversation

Looking at colours in particular genres (they are used differently in specific ways in different contexts) 

for example in Westerns, good guys wearing a white hat and bad guys wearing black hats - misc characters wearing brown.

Light sabres in Star Wars very clearly symbolising ideology

Characters attached to colour - she uses blue and red to symbolise characters that oppose each other in some way, for example.

Character designs, using colours that match well for more grounded characters, and colours that clash for more unstable characters

Power rangers!!

What colour is your ‘normal’ for the world? And how will specific characters break that or blend in?

All of these are just prompts and thinking points of course, it’ll take a lot of exploring to know how i want to apply these to my work.

I was lucky enough to attend Plymouth Comic and Zine fair!!!!! (this is me :0 !!)

It was very lovely, I really enjoyed seeing people from uni, the general Plymouth illustration scene, and those few illustrators you know but only really see at fairs. I also got the opportunity to have some awesome chats about illustration (shoutout to that one hermitcraft fan who let me ramble about Minecraft builds and setting design for a bit <3). I had a chat with the wonderful Ben Wright and Jess Holloway about colours, especially in narrative, and here are some ideas I took away from that!

They didn’t have any specific suggestions for books about colour and narrivite,  but again, film came up! Colours in film are discussed a lot, and vary a lot in genre, so i’ll have to do some looking into that.

In particular wes anderson might be good to look at 

Hero by Jet Li - haven’t looked at this yet

How to take colour that we may associate with a particular feeling and instead make it do something else. (eg. how to make blue happy)

Colour in context with shape and composition

I was very excited after PCZF and got hyperfixated on a little drawing. You and I were chatting about folds in clothes at the fair, so this image was to play with that a bit.

Yes this is an image of my favorite block lady. I love her. [Illustration of GeminiTay, along with her season 10 skin]

I decided to use the colour pick tool from my reference for accurate colours, which I don’t normally do. I do have a habit of going too light with my values, and a bit swampy and desaturated with my colours. When I started with her trousers, I thought it was wayyyy too dark, but I decided to stick with it till the end anyway. Even though it clearly worked in the reference image, I was still surprised it worked on mine. This has proved to me that it’s okay to push and use some darker colours - which is a bit scary but I’m going to give it a go.

'messing around with colors with imp and skizz' by @applestruda

I also saw this incredible image by @applestruda using wonderful colours! This led me to play around with some high-saturation images. I wanted to draw one of GeminiTay’s builds with the spooky vibes she’s been trying to capture. I downloaded applestruda’s image, colour shifted the hue to one that fits the energy I wanted to capture, and used it to create a high saturation colour pallet. This is a great starting point since I’ve never worked with this kind of colour palette before - it gives me a starting point rather than drowning in indecision and cluelessness XD

Here’s a timelapse of the study!

Once I’d finished, I hue-shifted them for some alt colours. I find this a helpful process for figuring out colour stuff that I would never consider normally. I think I like these more, actually. The one with the reddish wood and green accents feels like it has the vibes of the original image, but is exaggerated a bit. I think it pops. And the pink is cool. I think I could have pushed the values further again, but I'm pretty happy with the final images.

So those are my colour thoughts over for now - I’m hoping to keep playing but use of colour is for sure a lifelong skill. 

The past few weeks have been so awesome. I’ve just been so so moulded by conversations with my artistic community and it’s been so lovely!!! I’m really enjoying running around the country and visiting all my pals. It was so nice to see you at PCZF and I’m looking forward to more of it!!! :D

Ps. Here are some sketches I did at the fair

Can’t wait to see more lionheart lil guys :0

Archie <3 :)))))))))

#archillustrates #arch is learning #project development #art #art process #art resource #process #artists on tumblr #illustration #small art blog #art blog #illustration blog #queer artists on tumblr #illustrator #queer illustrator #artists on instagram #procreate #digital artwork #digital artist #riso #risograph #artist blog #artist on tumblr #tumblr art #tumblr art blog #art on tumblr

[sadaveniren]

But young love isn't black and white. It literally is on a case by case basis. Can't tell you how many girls I went to hs with had babies and/or got married before 20 and are now divorced and/or single moms. A lot regret having babies so young. A lot of influencers are now tending to be trad wife type influencers, with having kids and marrying young the ultimate goal. Not saying Phoebe is that. But given she and her sister dropped out and refused to get an education even though they could afford isn't the best influence for young girls. It essentially romanticizes teen pregnancy, and it won't have the birth control effect of Teen Mom did on me because she's not going to show the struggles of teen pregnancy because she has the resources not many young girls have. And no doubt the baby will be used for influencing and having their face all over the internet without their consent as Lottie is doing. Children are great money makers for influencers. And that's why I'm happy when I see celebs completely hide their kids from fans.

You know what? Kids are great money makers for influencers. You’re 100% correct. And it’s fucked up especially because the laws haven’t caught up yet in how to protect influencer’s kids (not that the protection laws are pretty great)

Here’s a really good article about how much damage that can cause!

This next part is gonna be controversial but… Phoebe’s case… isn’t a teen pregnancy. She’s a young adult pregnancy. There’s a difference. A massive one imo. Just because she’s nineTEEN doesn’t make it a teen pregnancy and I think it’s really fucking damaging to talk about that. Her and Daisy didn’t drop out of SCHOOL they chose not to take any higher education courses aka didn’t go to uni. Probably because they saw it as a waste of money and time because at eighteen nineteen it’s actually still really hard to conceptualize how getting a degree in some way is going to help you get to where you want to go. Especially in England where when you go to uni you decide your major and then ONLY major in that from my understanding. Like all of your classes are just about your major. It’s super super focused. So if you don’t KNOW what you want to do it can become incredibly frustrating to try that. And I’m someone (with a masters degree! From an Ivy League school in the USA! In education!) who firmly believes higher education is something that should be changed from what it looks like now (in the USA, internationally etc) to something much more flexible because that kind of rigid system DOESNT WORK WELL. School works best when you want to go and learn. Some people don’t. They’d rather DO. So instead of looking at not going to uni as a “they’re so dumb” take maybe consider… they know what they want right now and aren’t wasting their time trying to do something else?

#there’s just #a lot of assumptions I’m seeing right now #and a lot of them seem to be very hateful to the twins?

[stinkyme]

Completely different topic, but I’m gonna start studying Slavic languages and literature in fall, and the uni requires me to choose two Slavic languages that I will be focusing on. I’ll definitely pick Russian, but I still need a second one and I’m still clueless which one to choose :(

I’m not very familiar with Slavic languages, do you think you can recommend one?

hm, it really depends on what exactly you want to achieve yk

for example, if you want to sort of ease it up, you can pick russian and ukranian because they are similar or (I am not trying to be biased here) serbian, because they are also similar..but, when you learn serbian you will also easily navigate croatian, bosnian and montenegrin because they are essentially the same, besides accent difference, some words difference and they use ijekavica & jekavica, while we use ekavica (serbian)

or, you could choose to learn slovene if you ever desire to live in Slovenia because (as far as i know) they have good life standard, but with inflation currently and all, I am probably wrong, however future wise speaking, you could choose that :)

polish is also a lovely language, but again, it ends up to what you want :) I love all languages, especially slavic ones because I, myself, speak it so I think there is absolutely not a wrong choice to pick.

obviously, some slavic languages like church slavonic or slavomolisano are much less spoken by people. I think slavomolisano has around 1000 native speakers (and maybe 1000-2000 passive speakrs) and it's usually spoken in Italy.

Now, church slavonic is rarely used nowadays and is only useful if you are looking forward to be a part of a church that still uses it, which i highly doubt, so I wouldn't recommend that one, but everything else I mentioned, it falls down to if you have a strong preference to visit a place or possibly live there.

Bulgarian and macedonian are also lovely languages!!

there is not a wrong choice in my opinion, as long as it provides you what you might desire :)

#stinkyanswers #my sweet hio <3 #and all slavic languages have some similarity #at least cursing wise LOL #but it depends on what you want to achieve #i personally love them all #so just see which may help you visit a place you want #any knowledge is amazing :)

[thelittlemars]

Actually, you know what? I’m not gonna gatekeep this much information. You want to become an academic?? A real one??? 

Then here’s how to become an actual academic 📖🕯️

— by: Someone who’s actually becoming an academic

So, the first step might be the most obvious but yet difficult one: you need to be enrolled in an university. Or college. Never understood the difference.

Then, you find the field of study that you love and adore. Not that you just like. Well, I guess like works just fine, but it’s better if you love it because the more you love something the more you want to learn and research about it. And keep in mind that this is going to be your future, all-life-long job. So yeah, find something that you love doing or studying. It can be your favourite course, module or subject. It can even be a very niche thing. 

Then, find a professor that teaches or is researching that topic and stick to them like a koala on a tree. I don’t know how it works in your university and/or country, but if you have to write your final dissertation/thesis and your uni requires a tutor, choose them [I could write a separate blog post if you need help with your thesis work]. Ask them to give you extra readings, book recs, tips and tricks on how to become just like them, ask them if they are curating any project, such as a seminar, a congress, an exposition or a cool experiment that’s open to the public. Damn it, ask them if they need someone to help them carry the exams folders, or remind them of some event, or just if they want to have a coffee with you. You might think that all of this is prententious or that it make you possibly look annoying, but this is how it works. 

Academic careers are built on connections. The more people you know in your field the more you will be known, the more other academics might want to read your research, your papers, your articles and books. You have to make a name for yourself, and the only way you have is to create relationships in your field of study. 

This is why I also advise you to show up. University is like a society. Find conventions, seminars, conferences and exhibitions that interests you or that belong to your chosen field and just go. If you can, ask questions [remember to always introduce yourself, stating your name and surname!], give input. If you go to a museum exhibit and you see people working there or even the curator, have a chat with them. Ask them if you can have their email addresses so you can contact them if you have any further questions. 

I have done every single thing in this list. Well, maybe I didn’t carry my professor’s exams folders, but I know a friend who did. I prayed for things to go well. And they did.

If you are curious, I am in my final year of my Bachelor’s in Languages, and I am specializing in Germanic Philology. My dream would be to become a scholar in Norse Studies. Ky thesis will be on the influences that Norse Mythology had on a novel by Sir Walter Scott.

And, even if I am still completing my Bachelor’s, my tutor saw something in me. He invited me to participate in an editing project [that is technically reserved for Master's students] of a Middle English manuscript, and this edition will result in a publication that will have my name on it.

This is why I beg you, start building your connectiond. You never know if your tutor will have a shiny, new project you can be a part of if you don’t try. 

Everything else will come naturally at you. Trust the Universe.

Good luck, my fellow future academic! See you in class!

#academia #university #carreer #academic career #scholars #scholar #dark academia #dark academia study #studying #dark academia aesthetic #books #books & libraries #aesthetic #art #light academia aesthetic #light academia #studyblr #how to become a scholar #manifestation

[pashminalamb]

NO cause I wanna say thank you for tagging me in that Bachira gif 🥹🥹. I was literally just minding my own business 2 days ago and then BOOM that one specific Bachira clip start looping in my head and I became deceased on the spot 💀💀😭. AND I SERIOUSLY COULDNT FIND IT ANYWHERE I was so upset and then you being the angel you are just proceed to casually tag me with the exact post 😭😭😭. The way I wanted to tackle you in hugs at that moment asdfjkgffghjjhn ❤️❤️❤️. ALSO see there’s a reason I specifically avoid talking abt yandere Bachira because I know once I do then I’m just going to go phoosh and perish. Like I cannot even begin to think abt yandere Bachira or else I’d never leave that rabbit hole. That is too strong a concept for me to handle💀💀😭.

OH HO HO yandere one-shots you say?? 👀👀 I look forward to it 😌😌. Also you don’t have to apologize abt taking a bit to get to asks especially not mine it’s okay love I know you’ve been busy get to asks when you can. Rest and don’t overwork yourself okay? NO because the way Reo would actually be the worst/best yandere out of all of them. And that’s REALLY saying something considering the show is literally abt yandere soccer players 😭😭🤚🏼. Itoshi brothers are in no question yanderes literally both would be insane abt you.

Is figuring out ao3 going well? I adore ao3 so much everything so chill there and it’s super easy to navigate and the way I’ve found almost all my favorite fics on there *eyes the 500+ tabs I have open simply for ao3* Thevisername sounds very interesting. Did you make it up on the spot or is there a meaning behind it? I’m just curious.

How’s the second part of the Oliver coming along? Don’t push yourself into writing more than you can handle alright? Short and sweet is great too. Extending it to 7 parts sounds like a great idea. It’ll allow you to take your time and fresh out everything more. No cause I’m scared now that you said you cried writing part 2 😭💀💀. ALSO!!! YESSS A PLAYLIST OR SONGS FOR EACH CHAPTER TO SET THE MOOD WOULD BE AMAZING. I always love it when writers go out of their way to choose a song for their fic it just makes it a whole experience and I adore finding new songs through it.

How are you? How’s uni? Did you finish getting through those ancient textbooks? OH AND HAVE YOU SEEN THE COVER FOR VOLUME 31 FOR TR????? I tagged you in a post freaking out abt it but I don’t think you saw it 😭😭. Tumblr enough is enough 😐😐. Also I might have a solution for the tagging problem. I turned on tumblr notifications on my phone and I’ve been getting the activity and tags and messages and stuff now so maybe you could try that. Anyways. I hope you’re having a great day and that you sleep well!! *sends many tackle virtual hugs*

- ✨ anon

*me sees Bachira gif* *clicks like* *tags you cause I knew you were gonna like it* Bachira just hits different when he... looks like that. *is getting ideas to write*

Ego made them yandere footballers. I can imagine if they are that passionate behind a ball, how passionate they would be behind a person... it would be terrifying but the yandere impulses are just. 🤌🏻✨ I- I have tabs open cause of fics that I like reading on ao3; still figuring it out, gotta wait like a week or something to change the username again and by that time i should be able to finish writing part 2 and a yandere oneshot - The username is actually gonna away spoilers for part 3 to Oliver's series based on a song that I grew up with. So you'll find out when the time comes As for the second part to the Aiku series... its going the way i want to... and it got emotional for me; you're gonna see why too *doesn't want to spoil part 2 cause there are so many things coming* And then while I was writing, there was more routes open in my head so i plan on keeping the actual plot upto less than 10 parts - but the number of chapters shows '?' on ao3 cause then I can make spinoffs on the series the title of the chapters for the series is based on songs- that remind me of the chapter and describes the plot of it in a rhythm and lyrics. I'm doing good! Binging childhood movies and series, uni's been annoying *has to do a secret santa and i managed to get the guy that no one likes - for good reasons too cause i gave him enough of chances and he wasted them. and i think he's being nice to me cause he wants me to get him what he wants for christmas... his present is coal. Santa told me to do it.* i took a break from the dusty books. didn't touch em for 3 days now oh... you tagged me? I'll take a look into it. Tumblr sent me a congrats post of getting 50 likes. me - tags post : # tumblr stfu, # i've done better than this, # rubbing it in my face first thing in the morning. *clicks post*, *receives* - oops, something must have goofed up. ao3 here i come *sending funny mood panels and big hugs*

Oliver, this is us about you - ಠ_ಠ

#belle.☏ #.moot🍦: ✨ anon

[grey-eyed-menace]

Byakuran: We have fun, don’t we, Enma?

Enma: I have never been more stressed out in my entire life.

---

Tsunayoshi, watching Byakuran and Enma fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they get hurt?

Uni, not bothered by the chaos: It’s fine. They’re too evenly matched to hurt each other.

Tsunayoshi: Then... who’s the strongest out of you three?

Byakuran: Uni.

Enma: Uni.

Uni: Me.

---

Enma: Is there anyone here who’s actually straight?

Byakuran: *raises hand*

Uni: *puts his hand down*

---

Byakuran: Hey besties-

Gelaro: Die.

Byakuran: What did I do to you-

---

Demon: Hey, I took your soul last month and-

Uni: No returns.

Demon: *sobbing* But it's making me sad...

Uni: Good.

---

Akatsuki: I can't imagine what Uni is planning. But I can tell you two things. We won't like it and it won't be legal.

---

Byakuran: *slams books down in front of Akatsuki*

Byakuran: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night.

Akatsuki: You could of said literally anything else.

Byakuran: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja Blast to fuel my trouble.

Akatsuki: I’m going to just stop challenging you when you say random shit. I won’t win. I realize this now.

---

Gelaro : Uni, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason.

Uni, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than her size: Spooky.

---

Byakuran: Do you love Enma?

Adelheid: Yeah, I do.

Byakuran: Uni! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks!

Uni: We all love Enma. You should've asked if she is IN love with him.

Adelheid: I thought that was implied.

Uni: ...

Byakuran: ...

Adelheid, looking straight at Uni: Congrats Byakuran, you just won 100 bucks.

---

Byakuran: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be?

Tsunayoshi: Maybe a bit tipsy?

Enma: Drunk.

Gelaro: Wasted.

Uni: Dead.

---

Byakuran, throwing his head into Uni's lap: Tell me I'm pretty!

Uni, lovingly stroking his hair: You're pretty fucking annoying, that's what you are.

---

Enma: I hate how you're just born out of nowhere, and you're forced to go to school and get education so you can get a job. What if I wanted to be a duck? No one ever asked me if I want to be a duck!

---

Tsunayoshi: ...This is one of those moments where it doesn't really matter what I have to say, isn't it?

---

Gelaro: I think my guardian angel drinks.

---

Byakuran: I’m sick and tired of being called 'mortal' like, you don’t know that. Neither do I. I have never died even ONCE. Nothing has been proven yet. Stop making assumptions. It’s rude.

---

Uni: Plants are basically the ideal friends. They are quiet, friendly, and easy to please. All they need is a little water and fresh earth, and they are perfectly happy to lie there all day in the sun. And they don’t make increasingly awful life choices, or hide their relationships. They have never, as far as I know, fucked a bee.

---

Akatsuki: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.

---

Rasiel: I love saying 'fuck me' because it can either be sexual or self-loathing and those are two things that describe me perfectly.

---

Ginger: I’m not a doctor I’m a medic.

Cecil: What’s the difference then?

Ginger: Well doctors actually save lives, medics just make you feel more comfortable as you die.

Rasiel: Note to self; never get shot.

---

Aeris: What's the signal when something goes wrong?

Ginger: We yell, 'oh shit.'

Albito: ...That'll work.

---

Ginger: Everyone synchronise your watches.

Aeris: I don't know how to do that.

Rasiel: I don't wear a watch.

Uni: Time is a construct

---

Uni: Did you just call me a shrimp, you asshole?! I'm still growing, dammit!

---

Rasiel: Though I admit I don’t know much about you, I am feeling pretty confident in my assessment that you are probably some sort of sick deadly fuck.

Uni: Who told you my secret?

#KHR Incorrect Quotes