#i wanna petition for all the hoods to have animal ears

[undelta-trash]

inspired by @flamingbiscuit beautiful drawing of blue and red

blue belongs to bonelyheartsclub

#bhc #bonelyheartsclub #blue #undertale #sans #sorry am in shitpost mood #im procrastinating again hAHa #underswap #us!sans #my art #the red and nox outfit swap also inspired me to draw this #I expected blue in reds outfit to have a twist as well #i wanna petition for all the hoods to have animal ears

[mymedicine]

Alocasia

or, 7.5k words of blushy harry and sassy y/n

moodboard/inspo tag + my masterlist

sum - y/n doesn’t like people, but she likes harry—even though he keeps fucking this up

warnings - language, alcohol, mentions of sex (not explicit), lots of banter, excessive use of parentheses, umm... veganism?

notes - hiii! for once i don’t really have anything to say other than welcome, to a very fluffy and kind of chaotic one shot. hope you give her a chance and a reblog if you enjoy! <3

Upon moving into his charming downtown apartment, Harry was feeling a lot of things.

He was excited at the prospect of living there, of waking up in his cozy new bedroom, of flipping pancakes in the kitchen with a stunning view of the city skyline, and of lounging on his soft gray couch while watching reruns of Criminal Minds. He was also anxious, and a little annoyed. There were groceries to be bought, chores to be done, bills to be paid (Fuckin’ landlord was an ass for refusing to include utilities in the rent). The cabinets in the bathroom were a little creaky (Do I need some WD-40? Can I afford WD-40?!) He even had to walk up four flights of stairs to get to his door, a task which Harry was keen to count as his daily exercise.

Above all, Harry was lonely. Living alone was a blessing and a curse, he reckoned. He could lounge about without any clothes, dance in the kitchen to the sounds of Folklore (a guilty pleasure), and watch creepypasta videos on YouTube until three am (and consequently stay up til dawn, for fear of nightmares) without worrying about anyone but himself.

But after just two days in the new place, he was concerned that the cost of privacy may not be worth it. Loneliness and boredom weighed heavily on his conscience as he laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Not only did he live alone, but he also didn’t have any friends in the city yet. No one to see, nothing to do. Lost, he decided. No direction, no purpose…Only four walls and a bunch of empty cabinets.

And yet it wasn’t even social interaction he craved necessarily—it was purpose, company, and…perhaps some cuddles. He briefly considered the idea of a pet. Maybe a friendly little French bulldog to chase around and be responsible for? Or a fluffy Maine Coon kitty to scratch behind the ear and snuggle at night?

But the bills…the responsibility…The prudent adult deep within Harry knew he was hardly ready to support himself, let alone a helpless animal. He’d have to feed it and walk it and make sure it didn’t shit all over the floor—not to mention the landlord would raise hell if he found out.

Meanwhile, the soft, gentle, maybe a little naive man who dominated Harry’s conscience was craving a friend. Pets were a no for now, so what’s the next best thing? He grappled with the question…Surely, a person was the obvious answer. He wouldn’t mind a pretty body to warm his heart—or, at least, his bed.

Harry stretched his legs out over the arm of the couch—the only furniture he had at the moment aside from his mattress on the floor of the bedroom—and snuggled into his cozy corduroy blanket, craving warmth in the cold apartment. A rainbow cardigan adorned his chest today, draped over a plain white turtleneck that warmed his neck. He liked to keep it cold so he could be snuggly wrapped in his sweaters without sweating bullets. He dug around in the pocket of his cardigan for his phone, eager to receive affection from something other than his clothes.

In retrospect, Tinder had given Harry far more unfortunate encounters with other people (lots of younger girls just looking for a plug and toxic guys who left him on read) than pleasurable ones. But hindsight was always 20/20 and isolation had already planted the seed in his head.

He quickly examined his own profile. It consisted of two photos of him smirking softly (not too serious, but not too eager either), one with his sister and his mum (to show he’s a family man), and a group one with his mates (because sure, he was lonely, but he didn’t want people to know that). There were also one or two shirtless photos (thirst traps, according to Niall) that he’d sprinkled in between the tame ones even though it made him feel kind of icky. Weighing the odds, he’d decided that desperation for matches outweighed the cringey-ness of it all.

His very last photo was the only one where he felt like himself. He was smiling wide in it, wearing a baby blue sweater with a little chick popping out of its egg on the front that Mitch had teased him for back home. His bio, too, showcased his wholesome values.

Harry’s eyes widened as he observed on the first person he saw upon opening the home page—Y/N. She only had two photos—a shot of her perched on a car hood and smiling wide and one far away one with her figure drowning in a sea of…plants. Fittingly, her bio read: “I love plants and I hate people.”

She was beautiful and every bit as anti-social as himself. It was perfect.

Harry laughed softly to himself and swiped right immediately. He was giddy when the familiar It’s a match! popped up on the screen immediately. His thumbs hovered over the keypad, brow furrowed as he frowned at the screen. Matching was one thing, but actually starting a conversation was another entirely.

Ultimately, he decided honesty was the best policy:

you had me at ‘i hate people’ :D

Now what? Matching was one thing, starting a conversation was another, but having a whole conversation was another thing entirely. He hated the waiting, especially when he had absolutely nothing to busy himself with in the mean time, aside from fiddling with his fingers and doing laps around his living room.

Seven minutes later (not that he’s counting), a ding came through on his phone.

y/n: you had me at ‘treat people with kindness,’ mon petit :)

Harry smiled wide. He was pleased she’d noticed not only his bio, but also the sweater he was wearing in his favorite photo of himself. It was the perfect response from a perfect girl.

harry: so what do you do?

y/n: i work at a plant shop on Main

Figures, he thought. He imagined her carrying a watering pitcher, tending to a plant with gentle fingers. She’d be surrounded by them like she was in the photo on her profile, green on all sides. God, he thought. What a beautiful scene with a beautiful star.

harry: wanna go for drinks tonight and talk about plants?

y/n: sure ;)

Nightfall brought a chill to the air that made Harry desperately want to curl up into his warm bed and snuggle into his pillow. But here he was, shuffling his feet outside the crowded bar and absently wearing another tiny hole in the sleeve of his striped sweater. It was a decent bar in town. They didn’t water down the drinks and they kept the lights dim so she wouldn’t have to see him flushed beet red after one drink. That is, if she would show up at all.

“Hey, you’re Harry?”

He turned quickly toward the sound of the voice, and there she was. And holy shit, he thought. That is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Her two profile photos did not even begin to do her justice. The idea of a mere photo on a screen couldn’t even compare to the real thing. He would never be keen to look at a photo again, he reckoned. It wouldn’t make his heart bloom and flutter like the vision of her in front of him did. Was this love at first sight?

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, and not because the chilly night, “Y/N, right?”

Harry didn’t think he really believed in love—certainly not love at first sight, but this girl was throwing him into another world. Before, he couldn’t seem to stand still, but her presence in front him planted his feet firmly on the ground.

“Yep, that’s me!” She smiled wide, speaking cooly and confidently. It was obvious she knew how beautiful she was and, even more evident, how enamored Harry already was with her.

“I—you’re absolutely beautiful,” The words slipped out of his lips before he could catch them—not that he was really making any effort to hide his attraction for her. Still, he enjoyed the way her eyes brightened and teeth gently nibbled at her bottom lip in response to the compliment

And suddenly, the idea of merely kissing her soft flesh, tickling her sweet bud, and ultimately burying himself inside her tonight didn’t seem like enough. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to smell her hair and hear her laugh. He wanted to make her pancakes in the morning and kiss her lips, sweetened lightly with maple syrup. He wanted to love her.

No, he couldn’t possibly ruin his chance with a girl like this by fucking her on the couch in his cold, lonely apartment, never to see or hear from her again.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Of course.”

One hour and four and a half drinks later, (whiskey cokes for Y/N, vodka crans for Harry) the cramped bar was hot and they were floating on air. He’d learned that she worked at Main Street Nursery, usually by herself, sometimes with her cousin who owned the place. She was an avid vegan, but only because she hated meat and dairy made her sick. She’d learned that Harry was new in town and lived only a block away from Main. Also, Y/N managed to learn that Harry had no friends here and was very lonely in his new apartment, but only after his third vodka cran when the already weak filter in his throat began to crumble and embarrassing things spewed out of his lips like a spout.

“Let’s dance, H.” Y/N requested, gently caressing his bicep from where she sat beside him.

Oh god. No amount of alcohol would let him embarrass himself like that. “I don’t really… uh—“

But Y/N was having none of that. She thrust his half empty glass in his face, eyebrows raised in a pointed look. “Come on, baby!”

He hesitated for only a moment. Her fingers were soft and warm and distracting against his arm and it was very dark in the crowded bar, but he could easily see her bright eyes and the mischief dancing around in them. Somehow, she looked just as beautiful after putting away five whiskey cokes. Ah fuck. How could he possibly say no to her?

Harry tipped the glass against his lips, downed the bitter beverage, and finally let her tug him to the middle of the room.

A few people were dancing raunchily to the loud music, and the combination of the alcohol and the darkness and Y/N’s effortless beauty gave Harry the confidence to join them. He placed his hands gingerly around her waist, nearly flinching at the warm feeling of her skin against his. Y/N flashed him a blissful, slightly drunken grin and squeezed his bicep more firmly, relaxing in his hold.

Y/N led them in a giggly dance, letting her hands wander Harry’s body and ultimately settle around his neck. Brain foggy with an alcohol induced haze, she swayed her hips against his.

Minutes turned into an hour or so and Y/N had grown quite comfortable in the circle of Harry’s arms, fronts flushed together impossibly close.

“Wanna get out of here?” Her whisper in the shell of his ear was alluring, seductive, sweet, and almost irresistible. But Harry was on a mission—one that only included seeing her again after tonight and, ultimately, making her his. Five vodka crans weren’t quite enough to outweigh his desire for something more. No, this plan didn’t include fucking her. (At least, not tonight).

“Um, I think we should…er—slow down…”

“You don’t...you don’t wanna hookup?” She looked up at him with something like disappointment (or maybe anxiety? insecurity? He wasn’t sure) in her eyes.

“No, it’s just… I—I wanted to get to know you?”

Y/N subtly stepped away from him, just an inch or so, but more than enough for him to notice and consequently panic. “Oh um, It’s okay...I just thought—well, I didn’t think we’d really be getting to know each other…”

Ouch. She obviously was not on the same page as he was with the whole I WANT TO LOVE YOU thing he had going on at the moment. The alcohol thickened his skin a little, easing the sting of her words.

“But if I’m like...not pretty enough or nice enough I—uh...” she was rambling a little—and oh god, she must be wasted if she’s questioning her beauty. Harry’s heart hurt. How could she not see that she was perfect inside and out?

“No, Y/N! You’re perfect…it’s just—“

“I get it, um...”

“I’m sorry, you don’t understand!

“I understand, Harry…I guess I’ll just—go home now.”

Well, fuck. In an effort to prolong his time with her, he’d managed to cut it short and blow his shot to see her again at all. He kicked himself for hoping. Hope for the best, expect the worst, he reminded himself. He was just fine at the hoping part, but the disappointment in the aftermath bit even deeper than his desperate loneliness.

Back to square one.

I’m going for a plant…if Y/N happens to be there then…Harry thought as he approached Main Street, then Y/N will be there. His heart skipped a beat at the thought. He tugged nervously at the sleeves of his sweater—this one white with a “my life is crap” graphic that he found quite funny—wearing another tiny hole in the fabric. He absently regretted not taking a shot or two before impulsively jogging across the block to the plant shop, but he pushed the thought out of his mind. I’m just here to get a plant.

Truthfully, he didn’t know shit about plants, but how hard could it be? Surely, all it took was a little water and a sunny spot. Optimistic, he wandered into the cute little shop. Upon entering, he found it wasn’t really indoors at all—just four walls of greenery with only a few wooden beams as a ceiling, allowing rays of mid-morning sunshine to illuminate the space quite beautifully. Harry couldn’t help but notice how one such ray shone directly on the most beautiful creature in the shop.

The scene was even more delightful than he’d imagined. She looked ethereal doing even the most mundane tasks, he thought. The way her skin glowed in the sunlight in front of a backdrop of lush greenery? Heavenly. He took a few more moments to absently admire her as she lifted a watering can above her head with skilled hands, squinting at the sun while reaching up to water a large, leafy looking plant that hung from one of the beams.

The plant was hanging just low enough to block her view of Harry, so when he gently cleared his throat to call her name, she leaped backward. A loud thud rang out and suddenly, the watering can was no longer grasped between her fingers and her pale pink apron was stained crimson—completely drenched.

“Oh my god!” they both screeched at the same time.

Harry felt the weight of the world on his shoulders as he ran over to her. “I’m so sorry angel,” he said, picking up the now leaking can from the floor. “I really didn’t mean to scare you, oh my god, are you okay?!”

She looked a mess, quite honestly. But even covered in water and sprawled out on the concrete floor, she was cute to him, like a little bud sprouting out of the pot. She looked up at him with a contemptuous stare.

“Harry!” She cried from the floor, “What are you doing?”

While he did appreciate how adorable she looked, Harry was horrified. He hadn’t known her long, but he’d never heard her stutter or seen her blush like that. Even in their brief text exchanges and one night together, she’d always seemed so confident, so effortlessly graceful and calm. “I’m so sorry love, I really didn’t mean to—“

“Why are you here?”

“I-I just...I just wanted a plant and—and… I know you love them, and I thought there wouldn’t be anywhere better to go...”

Y/N’s expression softened as he rambled. “Okay, well, feel free to look around,” She stumbled to her feet, murmuring as she went. She wiped her hands on her soaked apron, trying to clean them but actually just spreading the wetness. “And um…Let me know if you need anything.”

She pressed a tight lipped grin on and her voice went a tinge too high pitched. She was clearly putting herself in customer service mode, but Harry caught a playful glint behind her bright eyes.

Harry flushed red and turned away from her, kicking himself for being so clumsy. He craned his head around the shop, feeling hopelessly overwhelmed. He wanted to ask her for help or at least a gentle push in right direction, but he figured he’d already bothered her enough.

Even with his back to her, Y/N’s presence was distracting. He could hear her feet shuffling around softly, the light clang of the metal watering can against the counter, even the pinging sound from her phone as he wandered the store.

Harry made a few aimless circles around before particular plant caught his eye. It was a modest looking plant, no where near as big as some of the hanging vines and rubber trees that littered the store. It had large, dark green leaves with jagged looking edges and sat pretty in a terra cotta pot near the front of the store.

He decided this plant would suit his needs perfectly (what are those needs again? He asked himself, company? responsibility?). He ultimately ignored his thoughts and the fact that he wasn’t even himself clear on what he wanted and picked up the plant in both arms. He shivered upon realizing that Y/N was probably watching him the whole time as he brought the plant to the counter where she was waiting. Watching him struggle and make a fool out of himself, that is.

“Did you find everything okay?” she asked cordially.

Harry nodded stiffly, unsure what to say. “Mmhm.”

“Have you got others?” Y/N continued making conversation while punching some numbers into the cash register, smiling and avoiding his gaze.

Harry looked up at the same time she looked away from the register. He was a little startled by her question, not expecting her to actually speak to him after what he’d done earlier. “Uh, no. I just moved here, remember?”

“Oh, right—well, you know this is an alocasia?” she said it very gently, with a patient smile. He didn’t like that she was avoiding his gaze before, but now that she was staring at him unwaveringly, he felt like he was under a microscope. Heat rose is Harry’s cheeks. Did the name of the plant matter?

“Uh, yeah? I mean, uh—I had a few back in my old place…” Why Harry? Why is your first instinct to lie?

“So you know what to do with this kind of plant?’

“Um…yeah?” He stammered, speech as rushed and clumsy as the beating of his heart. His sweaty palms further confirmed the obvious—Y/N made him nervous. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was perfect. He felt desperately out of place in front of her here. How could he possibly impress her? After he’d already fucked up more than once?

“I, well—nevermind,” Y/N replied finally, shaking her head. She was still smiling, but now he felt like she was giggling to herself because she knew something he didn’t.

“Did you want to add some Miracle Potion to your purchase today?” she asked, back in customer service mode once again.

Harry did not know what the fuck Miracle Potion was, but it sounded like a rehearsed line she was required to say during every transaction. She was looking at him so pointedly though, and the brightness of her eyes was distracting. How could he say no when she was looking at him like that?

“Yeah, why not.”

And seeing her beam at him with that lovely smile was so worth the extra eight dollars.

Harry cradled his new plant—Franklin, he’d decided—in both arms, awkwardly body-slamming his apartment door to get it open without his hands. First order of business after setting Franklin down on the coffee table was to quench his thirst. He still hadn’t gone on a real grocery trip for the new place, so he’s been living off of trail mix and kombucha. Harry craved kombucha like plants craved water.

Which brought him to the second order of business: research. He sat on the couch with his trail mix, kombucha, and laptop, quickly opening up a search for “alocasia plant care”

And suddenly Y/N’s behavior made sense.

Of course, of every plant he could have chosen at random, Harry’d gone for one of the most difficult, demanding, and definitely-not-for-beginners house plants in the shop.

He had a funny feeling it wasn’t the last time his optimism would get him in trouble.

Harry was frustrated.

It’d been less than twenty four hours since he became a father, and his once green-leafed baby was already browning at the edges. He frowned, peering at Franklin’s crisp leaves as he meticulously sprayed the Miracle Potion into the soil. The once dry dirt was starting to look a little better, but—holy shit!

Harry leaped away from the table, dropping the spray and nearly knocking himself onto his ass. His eyes were wide and his heart was pounding. He felt betrayed and horrified. Y/N never mentioned that there’d be bugs crawling in the soil! But Harry could not unsee the tiny worm-ish looking guy slithering up from the depths of the pot and onto the base of Franklin’s stem.

This was a mistake. A huge mistake. Who has he kidding?

He couldn’t help himself. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, dialing the plant shop’s number without a second thought.

“Hello, you’ve reached Main Street Nursery! We’re not available right now, please leave a message and we’ll call back as soon as possible.”

“Y/N! S’Harry and, oh my god there’s a bug in Franklin! I was sprayin’ the potion stuff on the soil like ya said to but then there was a big worm thing and I dunno what to do now? I’m scared Y/N, why didn’t ya tell me there’d be bugs?! Holy shit, Franklin’s gonna die, what the fu—“

A beep interrupted his ramblings, which Harry would later be grateful for. He was always a sort of ramble-y type, but adding a pretty girl and a bug-induced panic was more than enough to make him insufferably talkative.

He begrudgingly opened the Tinder app, his only other means of communicating with her. He typed out a lengthy message with rapid fingers, explaining the bug situation in between a series of colorful emojis.

thought you knew what you were doing? Y/N’s reply came in three and a half minutes later.

harry: I lied :(

(No use in lying now).

y/n: that’s alright bub. just relax, I’ll bring you some bug stickers

Bug stickers? What the fuck? He’d already made a fool of himself, so he might as well ask, he reasoned.

harry: why would I want a bug sticker?!!

y/n: just send me your address

He did as she asked, blushing profusely at the thought of her being in his apartment. Oh shit, he realized. She’s gonna be in my apartment. Realistically, he knew she probably wouldn’t even come past the front door. She’d just give him the damn stickers and then go off to whatever better things she had to do. But if Harry has any dominant personality trait, it’s optimism.

So he quickly started to tidy the living space—careful to avoid the coffee table where Franklin and his new worm-ish adversary sat. The plant aside, it’s a cute little place that screamed an unemployed single man lives here. Once the kombucha bottles and gum wrappers are thrown out, he puts way too much effort into swiping the trail mix crumbs off the couch and carefully arranging a throw blanket across the arm of it—she won’t even be coming near the couch, Harry, chill out.

When would she be coming? She hadn’t given him a time. She’d asked for his address…did that mean she was coming immediately? Maybe she’d asked for it to come by later? Or tomorrow?—

A loud knocking at the door interrupted his thoughts.

He should have expected this. Even after only meeting twice, he should’ve known she’d barge right into his living room, skirting right past him to find Franklin. The first thing he learned about her was that she owed plants and hated people.

“Um, hello love,” he said awkwardly, trailing behind her. “Thanks for coming over.”

Y/N looked up from where she was examining the plant’s leaves as if she’d just noticed him lurking behind her (very on brand for her, Harry noted to himself). He was taken with her sudden eye contact. Her eyes had that same sparkly glow as they did in the shop—they got that way when she talked about her veganism and her cousin and her plants.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you, mister Harry Styles. You’re a liar.” she said plainly. She was frowning at him (Is that a playful frown? He hoped so) “You’re a liar and it almost cost Franklin’s life.”

Harry was, once again, horrified. If he hadn’t proper fucked it up the first two times they met, he’d surely done it now. Y/N loved plants more than she loved breathing, and he’d almost killed one. And he lied to her! Fuck you’re such an idiot Harry...get it together.

Y/N must’ve seen his turmoil, (how could she not? He always did wear his heart on his sleeve) for she cracked a happy grin and smacked him playfully on the arm. “I’m just kidding Harry, for gods sake!”

“But...but the plant—“

“—will be fine.”

“And the...the bug?”

Y/N turned back to the plant and squinted into the soil. She put her hands on her hips over the fabric of her wide pants (Palazzo? Harry wondered absently. They were like those gypsy looking pants that looked super comfy—like, one step above pajamas...and damn where could I get some of those?)

“Is the bug on my ass, H?”

“W-what?” He replied, snapping out of his reverie with wide eyes. No! He blubbered, tearing his eyes away from the yellow fabric to her face, where her lips were pursed and her eyebrows were raised accusingly. He didn’t even mean to be staring at her ass (though it did look cute and peachy in the palazzo pants, he couldn’t help but notice now), but, feeling caught, he blushed sheepishly anyway.

She dropped the accusatory glare, replacing it with a wide smile. “Only joking,” she interrupted his ramblings. “Still reckon you were lyin’ about the bug jus’ to get me over here, though.”

Harry sighed exasperatedly, heart racing as he meandered around the couch toward the table where she was leaning. She kept him on his toes and it was as exhausting as it was enticing.

He got right up behind her and peered over her shoulder at the soil. “There!” He cried, almost having another heart attack at the sight of the little black bug. In a rushed attempt to show her the worm so she could get rid of it, he’d probably put himself way closer to her than necessary. He could feel the fabric of her long pants brushing his toes and her sharp breath hitch against his chest.

“Oh Harry,” she laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls of his apartment like beams of light. Looking away from the danger, he focused his attention on her instead. He couldn’t help but notice how her hair smelled like flowers and freshly mowed grass and ...honey? Something sweet and enticing and natural, like the earth. Like a sprawling meadow or rose garden or—

He’d been effectively distracted by her that he’d almost forgot the reason for his fear, the reason she was even here. That is, until the little bugger was out of the soil and crawling on her finger.

Harry screeched and leaped backward, and this time, he did fall on his ass. Right in front of the couch he’d cleaned for her while she giggled profusely. The gentle melody of her laughter and sweet little coos at the bug softened the sting of embarrassment—a little.

“Aw he’s so cute!” She prodded her other finger at the creature, which really was no bigger than her fingernail, but horrified Harry anyways. “Can’t believe Harry wanted me to come and kill you, sweet little thing.”

He was once again struck by how gentle and nurturing and sickened-sweet she got with plants and animals. Meanwhile she laughed at him and teased him ruthlessly for his dramatics.

“Here,” she said “Hold him.”

She thrust her finger into his hands from where she stood above him. Harry flinched away, but couldn’t move far enough from where he sat with his legs folded and feet planted on the ground. The worm fell into his palm. The tiny impact of it on his skin ignited an explosion of fear through him.

A millisecond passed and it crawled through the hole in the wrist of his sweater, causing his panic to quadruple.

He screamed out loud while Y/N continued laughing at him. “AH!” Harry screamed and flapped his wrists violently, throwing himself against the couch with wide eyes as he felt the horrible tickling of the creature crawling on his skin.

“Stop! Stop Harry, let me!” Y/N stepped closer, ducking between his outstretched legs. She shielded her face with one hand and desperately groped around for Harry’s wrist with the other. Finally, he paused to breathe and Y/N caught his arm in both of hers.

She wrestled his arm to still and calmly plucked the creature from his skin. “Thank God,” she sighed dramatically in relief, holding it on her finger between them. “The little fighter survived your temper tantrum!”

“No!” Harry cried, now shielding his own face from the wrath of the worm.

He watched her get up and drop the bug back into Franklin’s soil, all the while laughing at him.

“You’re such a baby, Harry,” she cooed as she turned back to where he was still sat on the floor, “And no wonder you’re so cold in here. You’ve got holes all in your sweater!”

“I’ve got holes in all my sweaters. My mum used to fix them f’me.” He frowned, missing her and his friends suddenly. Living alone was hard.

“You’re hopeless,” Y/N shook her head as she bent down to sit on the coffee table next to Franklin and sent him endeared smile. “I could fix them for you?”

Harry reeled back and blushed, “You—you could do that for me?”

Yes, living alone was hard and lonely and boring. Harry had been shamefully making excuses to see her for several days now, and yet he was completely oblivious to her doing the exact same thing.

“Sure! Come over tomorrow and bring all your sweaters.”

Harry saw absolutely no reason to object. He could never say no to her, anyways. “Okay, then.”

“In the meantime, take these…” She reached into her pocket and fished out four yellow squares of what looked like...tape?

“These are bug stickers,” she explained. “You tape them around Franklin’s stem and it’ll catch the gnats and aphids and stuff. Won’t kill your new little friend though.”

Despite her teasing tone and his lingering fear, Harry couldn’t help but smile at her while she demonstrated how to tape the bug sticker on. He’d deal with all the goddamn bugs in the world if it meant she’d be pleased with him.

She finished taping it on and turned back to him with an adorable little flourish, as if to say ta-da!

“Can I offer you some kombucha for your trouble?” Harry suddenly blurted.

What the fuck Harry? Who the fuck says ‘can I offer you—‘

“Ew, no!” She interrupted his self-loathing, face twisting in disgust, “Kombucha tastes like dish soap.”

Hurt, Harry reeled back again and a shocked expression graced his face, “You don’t like kombucha?! Don’t vegans like, live for that shit?!”

“This vegan has taste,” she replied with a snarky smirk. “And besides, I’ve got to get back to the shop for work like, now.”

“Oh, okay no problem.” Harry stuttered, “Thanks again.”

“Sure thing!”

And as quickly as she’d busted in, she was gone, leaving the apartment as cold and lonely as ever. Harry frowned, feeling as if he’d blown it once again. No ‘see you tomorrow’ or ‘thanks for having me.’ Chance after chance and still he made a fool out of himself. She hadn’t even told him where she lived! Maybe the offer to come over and get his sweaters fixed had been a pity invite and she actually wanted nothing to do with him ever again. The thought made his stomach churn. Where was his customary optimism when he needed it?

Grumbling, he grabbed a fresh kombucha from the fridge, wishing it was something stronger.

Franklin and his little worm friend’s (Harry didn’t think the bugger deserved a sweet name like the alocasia did—it was still a disgusting creature that made his skin crawl) company did little to satiate the aching loneliness he was feeling throughout the following day.

Finally, a message came through his phone from an unknown number.

unknown: hey harry, it’s y/n! did you still want to come over today?

harry: howd you get my number

Even through a screen, Harry managed to blurt out the first thing that popped into his head. Fuck. Shit. She’s gonna think he’s avoiding the question! He rapidly began composing a second message, but the three little dots appeared and interrupted his flying thumbs.

y/n: your message on the answering machine at work.

by the way, that was hilarious

harry: right, well. sorry for that

and yes, id love to come over.

y/n: no worries, i saved it to listen to when i need a laugh.

haha cool here’s my address

harry: should i bring food or wine or something?

A new wave of anxiety washed over him as he looked at the address she’d sent. Now what? What would they do? Would he just drop off his sweaters and leave? Or would she invite him in? What would he say then?

y/n: just bring yourself and your sweaters, mon petit!

Harry was speechless. Much like the shop she worked at, Y/N’s apartment could rival an actual jungle. Greenery of all different shapes and shades and sizes lined the walls, and while they had the exact same floor plan, it was an entirely different world than the one Harry was living in.

Y/N, meanwhile, effortlessly sauntered deeper into her space. She looked like she belonged there, obviously, but Harry felt like a fish out of water.

“They won’t bite, you know,” Y/N giggled, noticing his apprehension. She was watching him patiently with something like fondness in her eyes. Harry felt her careful gaze on him, but the magnificent green scene around him claimed his attention—but not for long.

Gently, Y/N took his fingers between hers and pulled him deeper into her space. Harry stumbled over his feet, craning his head to look at the plants hanging from the ceiling. How the hell did she even water those?

Y/N couldn’t help but smile. He looked adorable, like a child at Disneyland. She swore his eyes were actually twinkling as the greenery in the room made the color pop against his skin even more than usual.

“This is…incredible,” He said, finally turning back to meet her eyes with his own. “You’re incredible.” He set down his bag of sweaters on the floor by his feet. They could certainly wait.

Something about the praise and the way he was looking at her like she hung the moon was making Y/N absolutely swoon for the man. It was impossible not to notice how much he adored her. He looked at her the same way she looked at Delilah, at all the things she loved. Things. She wasn’t sure she’d ever actually loved a person before. But this man with the holes in his sweaters and the permanent flush in his cheeks was planting himself deep in her heart.

But she’d never let him see that.

“…I make lots of my clothes myself…” She was talking about how she learned to sew from where she was sitting on her couch. Harry noticed that she’d arranged her living room differently than he had. While he had a single gray couch in the middle of the room, her sofa was against the window, inviting the evening sunset to gently warm the pale pink cushions.

“Did ya make those pants you were wearing the other day?” He asked with genuine curiosity, continuing to poke around the plants and knitted blankets and woven fruit baskets that littered the entire space.

Harry turned to face her just in time to catch her flashing a knowing smile. “Yes. Should I make a pair for you as well?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’m sure your ass will look great in them, too.”

“Ah—shut up!” Harry laughed, fiddling with the leaves of one of her hanging plants. He recognized this one.

An easy smile still graced his lips as he murmured “It’s a philodendron,” half to her and half to himself. Now that some of the extensive plant research he’d been doing over the past few days had indeed stuck, it was easy for him to identify by its telltale heart shaped leaves.

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up, “That’s right,” she said, sounding impressed. “She’s called Delilah.”

Harry hummed, unable to focus on words when she was giving him her full attention like that.

“She’d be cute next to Franklin, don’t ya think?” She continued, tiptoeing closer to him. She stood behind him, peering over his shoulder at the plant much like she’d done to Franklin a few days earlier. The fabric of his brown sweater was soft against her fingers as she wrapped her arms around him. Harry tensed. He had longed to do the same thing to her when their positions had been reversed a few days ago, but chickened out. But as always, Y/N’s actions were confident and smooth. The thought of her face against his knit-clad back and the feeling of her soft hands around his middle made his head spin.

Yes, he thought, she’s cute next to everything. She’s fucking adorable…

And again, Harry was struck with the thought that he should have seen this coming. It was such a Y/N move—the way she confidently pressed on his shoulders to sit him on the couch and proceeded to smoothly kneel over his thighs. His heart raced as she sank to his eye level, straddling his lap.

“You’ve got pretty eyes,” Harry said almost absently, as if lost in them. Y/N looked kind of surprised that the words came out of his mouth. She’s sort of confused by him, by the way he makes her feel. He had this nervous, chaotic energy surrounding him, as if his mind was going a mile a minute at all times. It didn’t make any difference to him though—a racing heart didn’t stop him from enjoying the feeling of the insides of her thighs against his.

Y/N suddenly grabbed one of his flushed cheeks in her palm and turned his face to hers, letting him get a good look at her eyes. “Think so?” She grinned with a hint of her customary cockiness.

Harry nodded in response to the playful question, caught up in her smirk. He reckoned it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Once again, she proved him wrong when she licked her lip. She studied him seductively while his own eyes, of course, flicked down to where her tongue was swiping over her lips. Her tongue was pillowy, gentle, and…distracting…In the next instant, she’d pulled his face to hers and met his lips with her own.

Despite having been mentally begging for her to kiss him since the moment they’d met, he was still a little caught off guard. Quickly, he began to relish in the feeling of her warm hand holding his cheek and soft lips pressing tenderly on his. He kissed her back gently, but with urgency—as if he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. He let his hands wander slowly from her knees up her thighs, her hips, settling comfortably on her waist. His heart skipped a beat when she pulled back a millimeter.

“Is this okay?” Harry let out a concerned whisper.

Y/N smiled effortlessly and nodded. Of course it was okay, it was better than okay.

“Thought I’d proper fucked up my chance with you ages ago,” he murmured against her lips. Now that he’d gotten a taste of her sweet lips, he was truly a fucking goner.

“I thought so too, frankly,” she laughed fondly at him, “But you reeled me in with your charm and wit...” She shook her head and furrowed her brows sarcastically, “...Your true gift for horticulture, your brilliant sewing skills, your excellent taste in beverages...” she continued lecturing him in between sweet pecks on the lips.

Harry giggled at her mock-compliments, tugging her impossibly closer by the waist. She relaxed her chest into his and easily wrapped her own arms around his neck.

“You’re an absolute pest you know?” Harry teased her, confidence growing as she caressed his skin, “I oughta get a buncha those damn bug stickers to catch you!”

“You sure about that?” She smiled bigger, eyes wide and innocent as sat back on his legs. She continued to feed him sweet words as she trailed her fingers down his sweater, the mock compliments melting into sincere ones. Harry’s own smile grew as she mumbled how she adored his soft hands and blushy cheeks and gentle disposition…

Her words were innocent, but her fingers began tracking a sinful course downward, and he twitched in his sweatpants as she cheekily palmed him through the fabric. He was putty in her hands, reduced to a pile of mush by her eyes that twinkled with playful innocence and mischief and unmistakeable lust. The soft hands and gentle, innocent praises falling from her lips were making his cock bloat and head spin. Just as he was getting into it—moaning and whimpering for her to please don’t stop…she shoved her arms between his body and the couch cushion and delivered a firm squeeze to his ass.

“That’s for calling me a pest, you pest!”

She roared with laughter and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight to her chest.

Harry’s desperate, high pitched whine quickly melted into joyous laughter. He couldn’t help it—she was so lovely and beautiful and playful and cheeky and of course, he should’ve seen a stunt like this coming. She was a pest indeed, but Harry had already decided to love her. Perhaps decided wasn’t the word—no, his love for her sprouted and grew like a strong and beautiful vine holding them together.

“Now how about I make you come for real and then fix the holes in those sweaters like you fixed the holes in my heart?”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

thank you for reading <3

talk to me about harry and y/n and franklin and delilah!

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #my writing #alo

[rockstar-angel]

ballroom blitz

summary: rose reagan, a freelance assassin for hire, is hired to assassinate a man by the name of re.my le.beau. though, what she gets instead may grow to be more important.

shipping: rosemary (rose x remy)

warnings: slight violence and very brief/simple descriptions of injuries, knife usage, brief alcohol descriptions, cursing

word count: 3.7k

a/n: this is the first part in a little miniseries of edited roleplays between me and @embers-comfort-corner !!! this series will show the major plot points in rosemary’s development :] hope y’all enjoy!!!

tags: @sealovinq @tuff-and-fluff @soulnottainted (if you wanna be added/removed lmk!)

Wine, fabric, perfume, people talking and laughing; lots of different stimuli hit the assassin’s ears and nose. Galas were not her preferred place of work, but she would do what she needed if it meant she got paid. She had been hired by an anonymous buyer to assassinate a man by the name of Re.my Le.beau. She had been told that he was a former member of the known Thieves Guild, and a mutant, his mutation allowing him to light things like dynamite. The assassin let out a quiet sigh through her nose. Perfect. Just grand. (/s)

She had been stationed at the bar for a while now without catching sight of her target, and she was getting anxious for action. Tapping her glass impatiently, she scanned the room once again, ears perked bolt upright on her head. She let out a sigh as she lifted her glass to her lips before her ear flicked. Immediately glancing up, she caught a quick glimpse of the man that fit the description, before he disappeared into the crowd of people. Finally. She thought to herself, setting her glass down at the bar and thanking the barista before following in pursuit of her target.

It didn’t take her long before she’d found the man again, though she had been made slightly more uncomfortable in the process of having to push through the crowds of people. She gave a quick tap to his shoulder, putting on a faux smile as he turned around.

“Bonjour, monsieur. Est-ce que parler-tu l’anglais?” She began politely.

[hello, sir. do you speak english?]

Remy wasn't planning on sticking around this place. Yeah, it was fancy, and he loved feeling fancy, but he knew he didn't belong here. He just dropped by to swipe some jewelry here and there, maybe make some bets with people that he knew wouldn't win. He was walking to the next group of targets when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned to face whoever it was, steeling himself for the inevitable yells of outrage from some old white man he scammed.

Instead, he was pleasantly surprised by a mutant with black cat-like ears and majestic white wings. Her brown hair framed her face and her voice was calm and inviting, something Remy hadn't encountered without being attacked later.

He smiled pleasantly and spoke, still taking in the beautiful figure in front of him.

"Why yes I do, mon ange."

He bent slightly, pressing a light kiss to the top of her hand before standing upright once more, a smirk plastered on his face.

She was bound to have some loot from the looks of that dress.

"Tell me, what's a lovely creature like you doin' inna place like dis?"

He spoke, words soft as velvet.

“Oh, thank god.” She breathed, faking a relieved look. “S’been a night full of French, I’m almost scared I’ll forget how to speak English.” She said with a calm smile.

“Rose. You are?” She introduced herself, discreetly looking the man over for any weapons. Nothing obvious, but the trenchcoat was suspicious.

"I've been there, half the time I mix up the words in both languages."

Remy said with a laugh.

“Name’s Gambit. Pleasure to meet ya, Rose.”

He said, putting extra emphasis on her name. She sure was pretty, but he knew better than to make any moves. For his sake, and hers.

"Can I offer you a drink?"

“Pleasure’s mine, chère.” Rose responded, closing her eyes briefly. When Gambit made the offer to buy her a drink, she gave a quick swat of her hand. “Only if you’ll allow me to buy you one in return.” She said, her expression unchanging. She had experience with poison and poisoned drinks; she wasn’t going to let her guard down that easily.

Remy laughed lightly and nodded, lightly grabbing Rose's hand and leading her through the crowd to the bar area. He sat down and ordered two glasses of something fruity and alcoholic, along with a water for her in case she wasn't in a drinking mood.

"So, ya never answered my question. What's a pretty thing like you doin’ in some old white guy party like dis?"

He said, voice low so the people around him wouldn't hear. His eyes had a playful gleam to them and his smile never ceased.

“People watching.” Rose sighed, giving another swat of her hand, her grin widening a bit as she played back the phrase ‘old white guy party’ in her mind. “Catfishing is a little hobby of mine.” She said, her tone joking but twinged with mischief. “Lure some guy into thinking I’m such a petite mignonne, then destroy him at darts or slapjack.” She continued, emphasizing her words by twining her fingers together and holding them under her chin, then leaning back a bit and setting her elbow on the bar. “Et tu?”

"Ooh, decieving looks typa' gal ey? I, myself, am a dealer of sorts. I deal de cards and make deals. I deal with troublemakers too. But I ain't someone you wanna stick with."

He said with a look that had an expression you couldn't quite place. He took a sip of his drink as soon as it came around, not letting Rose touch it, and keeping his hands visible. He had no intentions of poisoning anyone or being poisoned. He leaned his back against the table, looking out on the sea of people. It was almost sickening. Everyone so close together. He could never imagine being comfortable with that amount of physical touch, except possibly when fighting. He sighed and took another swig of his drink.

“Aw, c’mon.” Rose teased, giving Gambit a quick nudge before reaching for the glass of water. “The charismatic type, eh?” She said, raising an eyebrow as she took a sip. “Say, like Robin Hood? Eat the rich, empower the poor?” She said lightheartedly, setting down her glass and running her pinky finger around the rim of the glass.

"Somethin' like that."

He said with a small smile.

"Wh'bout you? Whaddyou do for work?"

He asked slyly, always keeping an eye on her hands in case she would reach for a concealed weapon.

He's learned not to trust anyone, something that would take a million years of therapy to undo. It wasn't his problem though, it kept him alive all these years.

“I work with animals! I bounce around from place to place, but mainly I deal with scaled buddies and cats.” She responded with a flick of her ear, scrunching her nose. She glanced back at him with a smile. “You seem like a cat person yourself.” She said, raising a shoulder and biting her lip jokingly. “No constant, though. You feed strays?” She asked, taking another sip from the glass of water. “Might as well just adopt if you’re going to play with strays.”

"Well, many people call me a snake, so maybe you'll get a kick outta me."

He said in a playful tone, scarlet eyes gleaming in the light.

"Your senses are good, yeah dere’s a lotta strays around. Dey don't feel like bein’ adopted though. Kinda like me. Driftin' from place to place, doin’ what dey please, now that's the life."

He said, sipping down the last of his drink and setting his glass down on the table behind him.

Rose nodded, lifting her glass briefly. “I’ll drink to that.” She said with a grin. “A snake, eh? Snakes are neat.” Rose said, setting her glass down, then setting her elbow on the bar, then her cheek on her fist. “I had a client once who called me in scared tears tellin’ me that there was a huge snake in her house stealing food from her pantry.” She said as she traced shapes on the surface of the bar with her free hand, glancing up at Gambit as she continued.

“I go to check it out, and I find a family of li’l garden snakes.” She shifted to use her fingers to measure about how long she recalled the snakes being. “Mama snake was no longer than that. After I got them situated elsewhere, outside the woman’s house of course, I looked at her and I said “ma’am, the few bits of food that those little snakes stole kept them alive,” and you wanna know what she said to me?” Rose paused, leaning back a bit and crossing her hands over her lap before continuing.

“She said “oh they shouldn’t have been here in the first place! My grandson died to a snake bite, I don’t want anything to do with them!”” Rose grumbled, imitating the woman’s voice, but in a more boomer-teasing way before she lifted her hands to the sides of her head innocently, making a confused face. “Turns out her grandson died of a rattlesnake bite. And y’know something else? She only paid me half of what I was supposed to get.” She sighed, putting a hand to her forehead as a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“People are so stupid. They see one bad thing involving a certain group happen, then suddenly they have zero empathy for said group.” She sighed, once again tracing the rim of her glass with her finger. “I’ll bet she was a cishet neurotypical human, too.” She added jokingly, in reference to the client she had just spoken about.

"You're a genuine hero, ain't'cha?"

He said, studying her with his eyes once again.

"People are stupid, I say who needs 'em! We're all better on our own!"

He said with a dry laugh. It sounded better in his head, when the words left his mouth they just sounded sad.

His expression didn't change though, hopefully Rose didn't notice the change in tone.

"People need'ta mind their business. Always askin' if he's this n she's that, how 'bout ya worry 'bout yerself! Didn't ya mama never teach ya manners?"

He said in direction of said people, shaking his head and laughing slightly.

He motioned for another drink and when he got it he turned to Rose.

"Say, all these folks got me feelin' claustrophobic, whaddya say we head out to the balcony over dere and have ourselves a more private chat. Less cishet neurotypical humans around."

He said with a gleam in his eye that you couldn't quite place.

Rose put a hand over her chest, letting out a sigh. “Please, I’d like that. S’getting hard to breathe in here.” She joked as she stood up, sliding a euro over the bar to the barista, quietly thanking her in French. She twined her gloved fingers together behind her back as she slowly started off towards the balcony.

Remy followed after her, watching her tail flick back and forth as she pushed through the crowd. She really was pretty from every angle, but he couldn't bother with stuff like that. Chances are she'd kill him as soon as they were alone together.

When they made it to the balcony, he took a swig of his drink, leaning against the railing and looking at the night sky, the stars reflective on his dark eyes.

"Didja know people can buy stars?"

He asked playfully.

"I think it's bullshit. Ya can't even go there, so how can you say you claim it? The stars belong to no one."

He said, taking another drink. He wasn't usually one to get all metaphorical but it felt right to say. A gut feeling.

Rose crossed her arms over the balcony, allowing her wings to stretch out a bit as she looked up at the sky. “Exactly. Technically we shouldn’t even call the earth ‘ours’, but when is anyone ever satisfied?” She sighed, pursing her lips. “Almost makes me wanna just, stop space exploration from happening.” She said with a small, sad smile. “Once NASA finds out about the existence of other life forms, they’re still gonna try to dominate over them regardless.” She continued, her tone becoming more sharp before she quickly changed the subject.

“You like astrology?”

"People are cruel."

He said, expression hardening in thought. He quickly shook himself from it and looked to her, grin back in place.

"It's interestin', although I never found myself gettin' into it. I'unno my sign but I can judge you based off yours."

He offered with a small chuckle. He drank the last of his drink and sighed. This was the first breather he had in a while. Shame he knew that it was gonna be spoiled eventually.

“Hmm...” Rose hummed, turning to look at Gambit and putting a finger to her chin. “You give me Sagittarius vibes, I’m not gonna lie.” She said, smiling before turning back to look at the sky. “I’m a Virgo. Do with that what you will, I’ve heard all of the stereotypes.” She sighed, shaking her head but still smiling slightly.

"A Virgo, ey? Well alright then, anxious-procrastinator-who-is-dreading-their-work-but-doesn't-wanna-start-it. In truth, I dunno much ‘bout the signs, just random things here ‘n dere that seem to change every second. Yer loyal though, and very caring. I can tell that much."

He said with a wink. His face flushed a little after. Why'd he do that. The alcohol had probably started getting to him by now.

Rose gasped dramatically, turning to look at Gambit again, her open mouth twitching into a smile. “Are you sure you’re not an astrologist? You just hit the nail on the head.” She said, stifling a laugh as she flicked his shoulder. “I’unno about loyal and caring though, but I’m doing my best.” She said a bit quieter, looking down and tucking a clump of her hair behind her ear.

"Ha! I wish! I'm sure you're great, and bein’ loyal to yourself is still loyal."

He said staring at the sky idley, glancing to her out of the corner of his eye.

That made Rose freeze up. She stared at Gambit with wide eyes for a few moments before glancing away bashfully. That almost made her feel bad for what she had to do. “Je doute que...” She mumbled, her voice just barely over a whisper.

[i doubt that…]

Gathering her strength—and mentally reminding herself of things to be angry about so she could use it against him—she took a breath and loosened her posture. “Apologies, monsieur Gambit, but I’m going to have to see you out.” She said, her voice wobbling the slightest bit before she dove at Gambit, tackling him over the side of the balcony; she hoped he didn’t notice her opening her wings to slightly lighten the impact when they hit the ground.

"Hmm—?"

Remy turned to look at Rose before suddenly being tackled off the balcony.

Her claws dug into his throat and her expression was suddenly seething with hatred. He braced for impact and cried in pain when they landed. He knew it was coming, luckily he kept his glass in hand.

He charged it with kinetic energy and smashed it against her head, causing her to let go. It shattered on impact, leaving lots of explosive little glass shards everywhere. He scrambled out from under her as they blew up.

"Sorry! You did it first!"

He called back before ducking behind a potted plant like an idiot.

Rose shrieked when Gambit smashed the glass over her head, causing her to stumble back a few steps before she shook the fuzziness from her head, manifesting and drawing her bow. “You don’t have much of a choice when you’re an assassin.” She retorted, her tone sharp as she released the drawstring, the arrow shattering the pot. She manifested two more arrows, docking them as she flew into the air, quickly firing them in the two directions Gambit could try to move.

"Wh- ah, shit-"

He stuttered before jumping up above the arrows so they collided with one another.

"Who’s after my ass dis time? Magneto? Mystique? If it’s Creed though, tell ‘im he’s a pussy for not killin’ me himself!"

He shouted as he dodged and drew his deck, lighting them with bright pink plasma. He then flung them at Rose, careful not to aim for anything vital. Something about her made him want to get to know her more. He couldn't place it, but he tried to block it out of his mind so he would at least survive their encounter.

Rose folded her wings upon seeing Gambit’s counterattack, dropping back down to the ground. “I can’t tell you that.” She said, her voice eerily calm as she stood up again and drew back a different type of arrow. This time she aimed at the wall next to where Gambit was standing, the arrow splitting open into multiple smaller arrows on impact. As the smaller arrows bounced off of the walls, Rose flew back into the air.

Remy muttered cusswords under his breath and drew his baton. He spun erratically to deflect the arrows away from him, failing a few times but not being hit in any place compromising, just a few scratches here and there. When the arrows had all fallen to the floor and disappeared, he flung a handful of cards in Rose’s general direction, ducking down and covering his head. The nice thing about explosives is you don’t have to have perfect aim.

Rose growled a few curses of her own, doing her best to evade the charged cards, except for one. It made contact with her right wing, the assassin letting out a shriek in pain as she spiraled to the ground, somewhat catching herself but still making a rough landing. She tried raising her wing, immediately stopping and folding it against her back when it sent a pang of pain down her spine. Whipping back to face Gambit, her sharp gaze glistened in the moonlight, her expression upset but not quite readable. “I’ll be honest with you, asshole, I was starting to like you.” She hissed, docking three arrows this time; she was sure her opponent wouldn’t believe her, seeing as how he apparently hadn’t trusted her from the start. That’s what she hoped, at least.

“You should put some ice on that.”

He said with genuine concern, dodging the arrows again. He ran around a bit, throwing cards around him randomly to distract from where he was going to move next before landing on her bow, pressing it to the ground before she could shoot him. He kneeled down to face her.

"Sorry mon ange, yer grounded." He said with an almost sad smile. "And if we're bein' honest, I enjoyed myself too."

Rose scowled at him, taking her hands off of her bow so Gambit fell downwards slightly. Before he had a chance to do anything else, she lifted and swung her leg at his head, throwing him into the wall. She then lifted her dress up slightly, revealing a hidden knife holster. She grabbed it and twirled it between her fingers so it was facing Gambit as she held it to his throat, her breathing starting to become labored.

“What was that about ‘being loyal’?” She sneered sharply, but something else was hidden behind her slitted eyes.

Remy stopped in place, arms raised to show he wasn't gonna try anything. In his head he was trying to think of a plan, leading to a heavy silence between the two. They both breathed heavily, watching each other for a second before he spoke again.

"Uh, d’you gamble?" He asked with a nervous and playful smile.

The question took her by surprise. “...what?” Her stance faltered for a split second before she resumed holding the blade to his throat. “No. What are you trying to do?” She growled, her gaze darting from his hands to his face distrustfully.

"I'd just like to make a bet is all! Don't even gotta bet for money!" He said with a playful look despite being held at blade-point. "I bet that we're gonna meet again sometime." He offered with a grin, knowing she had every intention to kill him.

“What, in hell? That’s cute.” Rose scowled, holding the blade closer to his throat but not pressing hard enough to draw blood. Yet. “The only reason you’re still alive is because I find you mildly amusing.” She hissed, her gaze now locked with his.

"Oh c'mon, you love me." He said jokingly with a wink for emphasis, before suddenly grabbing her hand and twisting it behind her back, covering her working wing so she couldn't move.

"Stay still for me, would'ja?" He grabbed a card with his free hand and set it on her back, grabbing a pen and scribbling something on it. Once he finished, he put away the pen and took the dagger from her hand, leaning on her back a bit longer.

"Y'know, I think this is de most fun I've had in a while."

All Rose could do was widen her eyes as her opponent maneuvered her into a position where she couldn’t think of anything to do. Fuck, how did this happen. “What the fuck are you doing?” She demanded, squirming and jerking her arms and upper body, trying to throw Gambit off. She sighed, puffing a few strands of hair out of her face as she did so. “What makes you think I’ll believe that? I’m not inclined to believe anything that you’ve said to me in the past hour.” She grumbled, hoping to distract him.

"Well, you probably won't. I can't change ya." He admitted with a shrug. He used his power on the blade and tossed it at a wall behind him. Once it exploded he let the card he had written on flutter down onto the ground in front of her face.

"Keep in touch, mon ange."

He released her and ran off into the smoke, making sure he wasn't being followed. Once he got away, he sighed wistfully. He kinda wished he got her number but all he could do was hope she'd call.

Growling defensively and whipping around as soon as she could move her arms again, all Rose saw was the card on the ground. She glanced about her surroundings, snarling when she realized that her target had gotten away. This was the first time she had failed. As her gaze dropped to the ground, she remembered the card. She bent to pick it up, flipping it over, her face heating up upon reading what Gambit had written. Fucking hell. What had she gotten herself into.

#art.exe #self ship #self ship community #self shipping #self ship writing #[ r.selfship — rosemary ]

[doyouevenshipbr0]

gruvia drabble

author’s note: i get inspired by the most insignificant little things and i have no idea where im gonna go w this fic but...... juvia is so BEAUTIFUL omfg n i literally just wanna write a fic ab gray appreciating that. that’s it lmao. enjoy my loves!!!<333

**another note: haha oh ok it turned into something kinda rly different! its fine ig! psa im ab to kinda rant so u can skip this if u want!! if u wanna read this part it might be better to do it after u read the fic???? these arent spoilers its just kinda behind the scenes of ig.. ok so i try to think of gruvia in the most realistic sense possible. i incorporated gray having crushes bc simply, i think its true. i think gray had a crush on erza and lucy. i also think gray didnt fall in love w juvia at first sight lmao. i think it took a lot of time for gray to understand what juvia meant to him. also i find it INFURIATING that gray has never commented on juvias looks lmaooo (to my knowledge). like he said lucy and erza were pretty (at least in the anime) and literally all i want is for gray to acknowledge how fuckin BEAUTIFUL juvia is ongogmgogm. ok ok yes he commented "you're mine" and said "ur body is something i care about" and a whole lot of other romantic things but he has never made a comment solely on juvias looks and ik looks dont matter and im sure its hard for gray to even think ab juvias looks considering all the personality she has but literally all i want is a "ur cute". like thats all i need lmao. my girl needs recognition for being the most beautiful person EVER!! so yeah this fic is me trying to process how gray sees juvia, and even tho he doesnt say it, i can at least tell myself this is his thought process lmaooo. ((he also prolly doesn't say shes cute cus it would be way too embarrassing for him considering he has like actual real feelings for her)) ok ignore me literally typing word vomit lol pls enjoy ilysm. (((this rant is longer than the fucking fic. i cri.))))

*

Gray always had crushes.

It was normal, but Gray never really reflected on it until now.

First, there was Erza. They were just kids. When she first joined the guild, Gray thought she was weird, but he soon found out she was much more than that. She challenged him. Not only physically, but mentally and emotionally too. He wanted to figure her out. She had a complexity that he never experienced before, and he was intrigued by it. Soon, the curiosity of the pretty girl with the scarlet hair molded into an admiration. He admired her beauty, her ability, and her heart, and the attraction just fizzled away over time.

Then, there was Lucy. This one was far simpler, and didn't hurt Gray's brain as much to try to comprehend. She was cute. She was quirky. She was a fresh face he saw around the guild. He couldn't deny the instant attraction he felt towards her, and he didn't necessarily try to fight it either. The bond was harmless, and Gray never expected anything to come from it, nor did he try to advance it in any way. She was just Lucy. A friend, a guildmate, and a teammate. While a part of him was inclined to make some sort of move, an even larger part of him didn't feel right about it. That small part that inquired for something more seemed to die out as well, and while he wasn't sure why at first, he was finally starting to realize what it was.

Finally, there's Juvia, who he would hardly ever consider a crush. Honestly, at first, nothing really struck him. She was pretty he supposed, but had an odd look. She had a dull personality. She was nothing special. Just another enemy to take out. That was all until their first fight came to an end. A piece of her did stand out to Gray, and it stuck to him. He wasn't sure why, but it did.

Then, time went on. Juvia's personality completely flourished, and it was like she became a whole new person. While Gray at first saw her mostly as an annoyance, it transformed into something completely foreign to him. He never knew how to place this feeling, and even now he still has trouble comprehending Juvia from time to time. While he wasn't sure how to feel about her, he did always know that she was something special. She was there for him like no one else was. She supported, helped, and loved him more than anyone. He was completely overcome by all of her. He was so overwhelmed by her love, it took him a long time to realize just how much he needed and cherished it. He needed that warmth in his cold, seemingly tragic life. While the people in his past died for him, she lived for him. He only recently realized that in some ways, that was much harder, and it was certainly much more meaningful.

She did have her faults though, as all people do. She was completely neurotic, clingy, emotional, short-tempered, dramatic, and just--well-- a weirdo, but...

he loved her.

He loved her strength, her devotion, her kindness, her optimism towards life, her enthusiasm, her humor (even when she didn't mean to be funny), and well- he just loved everything about her. Even the bits mentioned earlier that seemed not so great. He loved it all.

He had a hard time even calling Juvia a crush, truthfully. The way he felt towards her was far stronger than anything he'd felt for anyone else. Erza and Lucy held a place in his heart at one point, but now, Juvia was the whole thing. She owned every last part of it. It was a feat neither of the former girls possessed, and he didn't think anyone other than Juvia ever could.

And as he sat at a table across from the three women he ever had romantic feelings for in his life: Erza, Lucy, and Juvia, and pondered on these thoughts, he decided not only did Juvia have an amazing soul, she was damn beautiful too.

The strange thing was, Juvia was always pretty. But unlike his former crushes, he never really seemed to take the time to admire Juvia's looks. It was her personality that always stuck out to Gray.

But when he did take the time to sit and just look at her... wow. Erza and Lucy couldn't even hold a candle to her.

It was remarkable, honestly. She was nothing like any girl he had ever seen before. She was totally unique. Her hair was the perfect shade of blue that accompanied her perfect waves, making her mane resemble that of a beautiful ocean that he would absolutely love to get lost in. Her bangs fell perfectly over her hooded eyes that were coated in long lashes, and in them held a deep blue escape that were her eyes. Oh god, her eyes. They could tell you a whole story those damned things. Gray never had to ask her what she was feeling, because her eyes always said it all. Natsu was sitting beside him at the time, and said something that caused Juvia to laugh. Her plump, naturally pouted lips turned into a big beautiful grin in an instant. Gray wasn't sure what Natsu said, but it must've been pretty funny, because she then covered her mouth as she began to laugh even louder, and Gray was wishing she didn't hide behind her petite hands. After the laugh fest was over, she regained her composure and tucked an unruly blue lock behind her ear, and closed her mouth as her lips parted into a content grin, and just that small gesture shamefully drove Gray crazy. She was a masterpiece.

He decided he didn't stop to think about how breathtaking she was so much, because then it would turn into this. It became Gray relishing in every little detail Juvia possessed, and every mannerism she did. He never felt the need to look at a girl like that before, with such interest in detail. The feeling that took over when he really looked at Juvia was far too strong for him to comprehend too often. It was a feeling completely unfamiliar to him until he saw her. While his emotions about her were a lot for him to handle sometimes, he was thankful for it.

He was grateful for every last part of her.

"Gray-sama, are you alright?" She tilted her head ever so slightly, causing the tides of her hair to fall in a new, but beautiful way, and her eyes were filling with harmless concern. She must've finally caught him staring.

"U-uh yeah." He stammered. "I'm good."

"You're sure?" Her eyes began to flood with more worry, and she reached her hand across the table, holding onto his. Her soft, milky skin clashed with his rough feel, but they somehow fit perfectly together. He flinched at first, but instead of throwing a fit for his hatred of PDA, he decided he'd let their hands be. He wanted to take every part of her in right now.

"Yeah." He smirked, and slightly squeezed onto her hand, not caring about Natsu, Lucy, Erza, or anyone seeing them at that moment in time. She was all his. Not only was she his, but she was it. She was really the one.

"I'm just fine."

#doyouevenshipbr0 #gray x juvia #gruvia #juvia x gray #gruvia fanfic #fanfiction #gruvia fanfiction #fanfic #gruvia drabble #fairy tail #juvia #juvia lockser

[misbhaves]

neko twitch stream log; the final entry.

2018, FEBRUARY 3rd 04:07 AM. 

11.

The room was mostly dark, were it not for the neon lighting bathing itself across the walls, the cupboard, the bed in the corner and the silhouette of the petite hooded figure sitting bow-legged in a chair far too big for her. Between the length of her bangs that were falling into her eyes and the mask stretched over the lower half of her face, nothing was visible, but the feminine posturing and avatar seemed to do the job because not even ten minutes in and no words said and the number of people watching the stream had already jumped up to twenty. The first exhale she released was shaky, and her hands trembled around the XBOX controller in her hands. The viewer count went up and down sporadically as she tried to psych herself up, before, finally a soft voice began speaking: “K-konnichiwa, minna-san.” the girl gave a small bow with her head, the light washing over her concealed face creating shadows over the mask that almost indicated a facial expression. either a smile or a nervous laugh. “I-I’m Neko-chan. Pleased to meet you. Um. I’m a little shy, but I’ll do my best.”

After the first few encouraging comments poured in, her shoulders appeared to relax and her expression, too, or what was visible of it anyway. 

2018, AUG 21st 14:21 PM.

67K.

There was certainly something to be said about popularity, although all her peers repeatedly claimed it wasn’t that important. It was certainly a phrase Neko was guilty of saying, and often, in both languages. Even as she thanked her followers for each milestone she passed from her humble beginnings. Unlike the shy manner with which she had carried herself in her first few videos, she now opened her videos with more fanfire and open excitement. She hadn’t grown comfortable yet to take off her mask, but as she inched closer to the 500K follower mark, she had already decided to change that soon. 

“I-D-K how I feel about the Gamerscom trailer for DMC5. Personally, I’m not sure I really pictured Dante the way he’s been looking in the hyper-realistic rendering of his character,” The girl rambled, pausing only to give herself a sip of the gargantuan soda she had by her side, having to push the mask slightly upward over her mouth to do so. “Show my face?” She said, nearly choking on the soda in the process. “Just like Dante, I feel like the live-action is not going to live up to the anime drawings, you know?”

There was a voice off-camera, seemingly stealing her attention. “What, already?” She whined, before turning back to the camera. “Gotta run off for an IRL sidequest,” She huffed apologetically, setting aside her controller already. “Neko signing out. Ja ne!”

2018 SEP 2ND 16:45 PM.

127K.

“A-Ah, I’m nervous,” It was said daintily, her head ducked and voice shaky for the first time since her early days on the platform. There were already words of encouragement pouring in. Others were impatient, reminding that she had, in fact, promised that today would have been the day. An anxiety she didn’t know the birthplace of always knotted in her chest when it came to the prospect of allowing herself to be judged my others. It was strange. A sharp ache that felt defensive somehow. As if her body was shielding itself based on a previous rejection her mind could not remember.

Shaking hands came up to the tight cotton straps of the mask curved around her ears. “Um. I just want to say uh, I’m sorry if any of you are disappointed.” She mumbled quietly, breathing out shakily, painfully, before slowly unhooking the straps and lowering the mask off her face. 

Then, with one of her hands, she went ahead and pushed her bangs out of her eyes, too. “Konnichiwa, minna-san,” She said, mirroring her first ever greeting, comfortable with her mother-tongue. “It’s me. Neko-chan. Nice to meet you.”

Her cheeks were stained a deep red, her gaze averted so she wouldn’t be too tempted to look at the chat. “A-Anyway, I’m going to play Yakuza-0 first,” She said, fumbling for her controller. “I hope you guys enjoy.”

2019 APR 20TH 20:07PM

45K.

The video opened with royalty-free 8-bit music playing in the background of a dark room bathed in neon pink lighting. sitting cross-legged and hugged by a gaming chair a little too big for such a small person. Neko - a video-gaming streamer of some influence greeted her viewers with a classic ‘v’ sign.. “Hey demons, it’s ya girl, Neko, back at it again with a cringey youtuber intro. First off, good evening to all of you and special greetings to the moon which is out here killing it after the sun was way too hot today.”

The girl fanned herself dramatically, “Today, I was going to go out to see what new games I could buy, but since it was too hot to wear a mask, I just stayed home and continued playing Yakuza all day long. But then like an hour ago, it hit me that i was being a doofus and should at least let you guys play Yakuza with me. So, here we go, minna-san. just a girl, her bunnies and some sweet Japanese gang action.” Her nose wrinkled. “I already don’t wanna know what the chat is gonna be like after that poorly worded statement.” The camera jerked slightly as the girl moves closer, knocking her knee into something underneath the desk and making the desk shake as she jumped in place. “itai... sorry...” She was mumbling, one eye squeezed shut, then louder and more cheerfully, she continued, I fell down the stairs earlier today and I think I might have hurt my ankle, but it’s okay as long as I don’t touch it. an’ I accidentally kicked the CPU.” The screen split then, showing live-action gaming footage. “I-R-L is looking pretty crazy lately, guys. every time I go outside it’s like, I see someone else being collared and taken into a van. america land of the free, home of the brave my ASTEROIDS. What’s brave about going up to people with weapons that render them totally powerless and shackling them without giving them the chance of a fair fight? And like, for what crime anyway? For being born? No wonder so many of you Americans are always raving about going to Japan, because let me tell you, I know plenty of people - some very close to me - who are mutants and nobody cares.” Her fingers continued to rapidly tap away at the controller in her hands, her eyes focused on the game as she spoke.

“You know what I think? I think the mayor of this city is just intimidated. he’s too scared and insecure in his own ability to control a city where some of his civilians are stronger, or faster or smarter than he is.” With an uncharacteristically humourless laugh, she continued. “Boo hoo, Virgie, everyone in the world has to deal with the fact they’re inferior to someone else. It doesn’t give them the right to commit genocide. For Hitler , it was art school. who wants to take bets on what Virgie’s big old justification is?”

“Maybe he was bullied in school, or like a mutant stole his girlfriend, or - wow, what if like, he auditioned for the school play and a mutant stole his role and the guy of his dreams? You know... like Sharpay Evans, who deserved better. whatever it is. It doesn’t matter, because people go through bad, horrible things every day and they still make the choice to be good. I make the choice every day, that even if I’m capable of hurting the people who hurt me a hundred times worse, I won’t do it.”

Her voice was then accompanied by the sound of automated grunts and groans as she concentrated momentarily on the in-game killing she was providing her audience. “And I won’t let you do it either. So, if any of you out there are scared, don’t be. Find others like you and take shelter, because the more unified you are, the less power he has over you.”

After a pause, the girl giggled. “Or something like that. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, sorry. Um, moving on... did any of you guys play the latest Yakuza? what did you think of it, I personally...”

2019 MAY 25TH 22:17PM.

11K.

The steam begun with uncharacteristic silence, bereft of the tinny music the girl had been opening her streams with for the past five months, if not more. The room was the same, as was the chair, but there was something about the girl seated in it that seemed different. Haunted almost. The bruises on her youthful face had almost entirely faded, but they were enough cause for alarm amongst her fans, most of whom had flooded in after seeing her go live for the first time after a nearly month-long hiatus. 

“Hi, everyone,” She greeted in English first before repeating the same in Japanese. “Been a while, huh?” She folded her legs up onto her chair, spinning to and fro. “I haven’t been home in a while. There’s been a lot going down in the city I live in and... I haven’t been dealing with it well, honestly.” She reached up, pushing her hair behind her ear. “You know, I used to think that being a hero just meant doing the right thing, or saving the day. 

43K.

Her nose wrinkled slightly. “But recently, I’ve come to realise it’s not that simple. Sometimes being a hero means not being able to save the day, but being able to send a message.” She cleared her throat, her fingers clenching around her knees. “Yesterday, there was a rally, in which dozens of mutants of various ages were kidnapped. Chained and carted away like cattle. Some of these people are my friends.” Her voice cracked on the last word.

67K.

“And I have failed them.” She continued. “By being born someone privileged enough to have my status swept under the rug.” She bit into her lower lip. “While people like me rot in ... these pseudo-military bases and get tortured and prodded and experimented on as if it’s the second world war and we have learned nothing.”

113K.

“And just like me, if you’re sitting at home and you’re doing nothing while this happens even though you have the power to do otherwise,” She continued, voice strained. “Then you’re just as bad. Just as cowardly.” With a shuddering breath, continued. “The time I’ve spent here, with you guys, will always be the happiest memories I’ll ever have. And maybe one day, I’ll come back and make some more. But, for now, I guess...” She shook out another sigh, reaching up to catch a traitor tear that slipped down her pale face. “I’ll have to be on this hiatus indefinitely.”

130K.

“Because even if I don’t know how this fight is going to end... and even if I’m scared I,” She reached off-screen for something, and when her hand drew back it was holding a porcelain mask, shaped in the traditional Kitsune shape. “I can’t wait around expecting for things to just... get better.”

“And I can’t keep relying on friends or family anymore either, because in the end...” She trailed off, something about her expression breaking. “You never really know a person, do you?” Resolutely, she fastened her mask onto her face. “I can’t wait to be saved anymore.”

“I’m sorry, dad. But, in this story, the princess rescues herself.”

And just like that, the live stream ended abruptly. 

#—aki's streams of consciousness. #☆*:･✧ i want to exhale stardust and create my own constellation | aki.