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#i was originally going to do yellow but i just went through a random color generator and i found this green !
deadpoets · 3 months
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SIMONE’S 1K CELEBRATION 🗡️ + bodhi or k2so for @andorerso
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nelvana · 6 months
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Back at it again with another pokemon playthrough, this time going all the way back to gen 1 and playing yellow! I had been playing this on and off again for a few years now, but finally wrapped things up a couple months ago. Those old sprites are fascinating. Similarly, I thought it would be fun to shake up the usual team drawing doing this in the original Game Boy colors!
Team stats and general gameplay info under the cut:
"Sunnie", Pikachu, Thunderbolt - Quick Attack - Double Team - Body Slam
"Frumky", Primeape, Strength - Dig - Low Kick - Rock Slide
"Spesk", Parasect, Slash - Mega Drain - Leech Life - Spore
"Memoire", Mew, Earthquake - Metronome - Surf - Psychic
"Beast", Flareon, Fire Blast - Sand-Attack - Smog - Quick Attack
"Leece", Dewgong, Headbutt - Surf - Rest - Ice Beam
General Playthrough Notes:
Gameplay total settled at nearly 20 hours! One of the shorter ones, I'd say; though, then again, there isn't really much to do in this game aside from the gyms and Team Rocket stuff.
We went in to the E4 with the whole team at level 45! Something that didn't go well in my old LeafGreen playthrough, but was perfectly fine here. The E4 wasn't that bad at all, honestly.
Kanto is not nearly good enough to deserve all the times I've played through it. I am so tired of Kanto and I'm not even done with it yet (I'm midway through a SoulSilver randomized apocalocke which, of course, has Kanto in the postgame, and I'm doing another LeafGreen run for some reason).
Okay okay so look you can see the mew on my team, I thought it'd be fun to have a mew! I missed the spots you're ideally supposed to perform the glitch in. I had just finished Cerulean City and then realized that the trainers I needed for the glitch were in that city! And I had already beaten them! I ended up using a dugtrio in diglett cave instead. It wasn't very consistent, took me a few tries, but eventually I got it.
Fun fact! At one point I was going to do a yellow nuzlocke! I ended up getting bored and realized I just wanted to play through yellow regularly, so here we are. In that run I caught Frumky though, which is actually what won me over enough to want to use her again in my actual yellow playthrough. It was actually that save where I traded with myself to get an alakazam back in my gold playthrough.
Gen 1 is so funny with how broken it is. I got so much joy in describing to my roommate all the fucked up things that were happening in-game.
Hey. Come here. Listen closely: I don't think parasect is as bad as everyone says it is. Even with the multiple x4 weaknesses in gen 1. Spesk was the mvp in a lot of fights, they packed a punch. Lovely little critter.
...Wish I could speak high praises for gen 1 flareon though. I enjoyed using Beast! But they really just don't get access to a lot of good moves. Beast had their moments, but ultimately didn't get as much screen time as I had hoped.
Similarly, dewgong? Not as good as I hoped. It really isn't quite as beefy as I had in mind. Poor thing. Again, still had fun with them on the team!
Having pikachu following me around and checking in with them whenever will never not be cute. We've been robbed of quality following pokemon in the modern games.
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gaiahypothesims · 11 months
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Get to Know Me- Sims Style
Thank you for tagging me @treason-and-plot
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What’s your favorite Sims death?
Ugh man, I don't know. I don't let mine die a lot, but they do tend to die from random stupid things. Meteor death, while I was making scenes. Birthday cake fire/death from a gameplay.
Alpha CC or MaxisMatch?
Alpha. I like MM for TS4, but not so much for TS3.
Do you cheat your sims weight?
I haven't had to until recently. Laken ate a whole bunch of pie, autonomously!!! and then the next thing I knew he was all blown up and waddling around. The rest of them seem to have kept themselves in order. Its no good when taking pics of a scene and suddenly someone looks waayyyy different. Fucking Laken.
Do you move objects?
Oh absolutely. I don't think my game likes it. But its a necessary evil.
Favourite Mod?
All of NRAAS, and also all the new toddler interactions from MTS. Skins are a must for me, same with eyes. I don't like dead eyes.
First Expansion/Game Pack/Stuff Pack?
TS3- Generations or Seasons? I think. I had TS2 previously, but that was a lifetime ago and I don't remember what I did with that.
Do you pronounce live mode like aLIVE or LIVing
Live like aLIVE. What the heck man.
Who’s your favourite sim that you’ve made?
Oh lord. I have so many. I'll be the most apparent and say Jonah. Because he's just a whole legacy.
Have you made a simself?
Oh yeah. Just one though. Because I wanted to see if she'd get up to some shit. On brand as always, she does nothing. Just shows up here and there. Goes to work, goes home. No drama. Sigh. Lame old thing.
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Which is your favorite EA hair color?
Oh man.. I don't know. Black? I usually change them. The brown is too green, the reds too orange... blonde too yellow.
Favorite EA hair?
Good question. Maybe this one? I don't use EA hairs for the most part. Jared got a makeover and doesn't use this one anymore, but it was one I've used before. There are some other ones that are decent but I don't have images.
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Favorite life stage?
Young Adult, just because it encompasses a pretty huge frame of life. You can make them look 18 or 35+ in the same stage.
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Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?
I like building things, I just suck at it. I love the gameplay, but I also love making up a story as I go. So while I am mostly a story teller here, I do let gameplay dictate a lot of what goes on. High free will is always on.
Are you a CC creator?
In a way. I do have CC out there, but nothing fancy. Just make up and some paintings. I share a lot of my sims because I like making them.
Do you have any Simblr friends or a Sim Squad?
I would say that there are some older sim story tellers and such that have kept me going. There are ones that I think about a lot and would 100% credit me for keeping on, even when things aren't the same as they were before. I do it for you!
Do you have any sims merch?
Yeah for sure. Any dildo out there that you fancy is directly moulded after Jonah's dick. At least he'd say so.
Do you have a YouTube for sims?
HAH. I can't even imagine the torture of sitting through me 'playing'.
How has your “Sims style” changed throughout your years of playing?
I really used to be gameplay only. But In my mind I made up stories and dialogue as it happened and of course laughed at my own jokes and their antics. It wasn't until after TS4 came out and I really went hunting for stories that I started my own, not in TS4 because I couldnt "connect" with it.
What’s your origin id?
I don't know. I do have TS4, but I don't play it. I ended up having TS3, GEN, Seasons, ITF on there.... but then I re-bought it all on Steam way back because Origin is so shifty.
Who’s your favorite CC creator?
Oh man, so many and so niche. But generally Around the Sims is so solid and still converting and making things for TS3. They are the only person I've spent real $$ on.
How long have you had simblr?
I don't know. 6-7 years? Maybe more. I'm sure I could look it up, but... that would make me look back on my life.
How do you edit your pictures?
I used to take reg screens and then run them through Adobe Lightroom. But then I thought I would try gshade-reshade, hated it, then tried it again. I still don't love it, but it cuts down on editing time which means I can actually share/write whatnot. So I'm there now. Reshade.
What expansion/ gamepack is your favorite?
I love ITF... because its just... out there and every so often I love me some sci-fi. With that said I think the game isn't complete without Seasons and Generations. I'll be honest and say that I haven't explored the game to the fullest. I wish it would be "remastered" and more current to todays systems. It would be a whole ass banger if it could actually play on the system I have right now.
***I'm not nominating anyone because I'm so late to the game. Life is wild and crazy and I feel lucky that anyone remembers I'm still here. I love you all, and appreciate all the hearts and comments. I know I'm not as consistent or interactive as I used to be. Life has just... decided to make me work for it.
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duaghterofstories · 1 year
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i know i just asked for a xanrik fic but like
could you possibly do a fairy council/found family kind of thing?
This is a TLOS timeline one. And don't worry about it, I like writing these.
Magical Mayhem- FC Found Family
Rating: Teen
Ships: Xanthous/Elrik (Implied)
Fandom: The Land of Stories
Other: During Canon, Canon Compliant, Found Family, Cute, Joking, Best Friends
Emeralda wasn’t stupid. She had known the two kids were Brystal’s grandkids. However, what she didn’t know was why Brystal had let them go off on their own.
“Xanthous?” She asked, entering the steel room.
Xanthous looked up from the letter he was writing. “What’s up, Emmy?”
“The two kids earlier…”
“I know. Conner clearly gets his personality from Brystal. He acts so much like her it’s scary.” He put down the pen. “The question is…”
“Why didn’t Brystal tell us they were here?”
There wasn’t time to dwell on the question though. They could ask her themselves. They had a meeting.
Well, on paper it was a meeting. In reality it was a chance for the Original Council to unwind behind closed doors and calm down as themselves instead of the masks they put on.
Xanthous got up and smiled at Emeralda. “I really hope that the twins don’t cause too much trouble.”
“They’re John’s kids, and Brystal’s grandkids. The chances they won’t cause problems are lower than Elrik’s standards.”
“Hey!” Xanthous said, offended. Emeralda laughed as she walked out, laughing internally.
She arrived at the redwood doors that made up the entrance to the meeting room. She opened it with a diamond key when Xanthous caught up with her.
“Bitch.” he muttered as he entered.
“Slut.” She muttered back.
“Stop insulting each other.” Said Lucy. “It’s improper.” As if she had any roght to judge them.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Said Xanthous with a huff. He sat on his chair and looked over. “So, any life updates?”
“No. Well, the twins are missing.” Brystal said. “Charlotte says they went through the portal, but—“
“Oh, they came to visit. Conner gets his lying and sense of righteousness form you. And probably his ability to be a lawyer.” Skylene said this all in her matter-of-a-fact, but oh-so random way of hers. “But why haven’t you found them?”
“Really?” Brystal sounded amused. “I’ve been having trouble tracking them, probably their powers acting up to shield.”
“Yeah, he currently goes by Conner Wishington. We had a trial earlier and he stood up for her.”
“Was it Trix?” Lucy asked.
“Yeah.” Tangerina shrugged. “He was definitely very… well, he was like you. Alex was mostly quiet.”
“Alex has always been the more cautious one.” Agreed Brystal with a small hum. “I’ll ask the royals if they’ve seen them.”
“Mhm.”
“Okay, onto other things.” Brystal said. “The Princess of the Charming Kingdom has been born.”
“I heard.” Skylene said. “What do you think her name will be?”
“Something stupid and pretentious. Wish or Love.” Xanthous said dryly. “Royals love stupid and pretentious names.”
“Aren’t you a royal?” Emeralda pointed out with a raised eyebrow at her best friend.
“My name means ‘marked by yellow coloration’. My name is stupidly pretentious.” Xanthous said dryly. “And El’s comes from a surname meaning ‘elf ruler’.”
“Fair enough.” Emeralda sighed. “Brystal, I’ve been meaning to ask you, by the way, do you hav any headache medication?”
“Mhm.” Brystal reached into her bag and pulled out a pill bottle. “Why?”
“Ugh, politics. Remember when we were kids and didn’t have to deal with politics and the whims of Humans?”
“We did that when we were kids.” Lucy said.
“Yeah, but there was a significant chuck between when we arrived at Madame Weatherberry’s and when we became World Leaders.” Emeralda sighed. “I hate this so much.”
“Well, that’s politics.” Xanthous said. “You did kind of sign up for it.”
She picked up the pillow from her chair. “You signed up for it twice.”
Lucy snorted in amusement. “You kinda did Xanny.”
“Traitors!” said Xanthous, tossing his pillow over at Emeralda.
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exoticalmonde · 3 days
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Arknights Chapter XIII - The Whirlpool That Is Passion (Part II)
ACTUALLY, BEFORE I FORGET, I heard that the friend count will rise to 100, so that means that anybody who needs an Ebenholz/Hoederer and doesn't require them to be max pot... can add me, so we can work together to cry a little less with each passing event.
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WARNING: This post is going to contain a lot of yapping from me about Hoederer and how much I love him and will also have a LOT of spoilers.
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Anyway, continuing where we left off last time with the furniture sets.
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Secondhand Leather Chair
A sturdy, durable chair. It may be called secondhand, but it has actually changed hands plenty more times than that. There used to be many chairs like this in their hideouts, though the number who sit on them has dwindled over the years.
STOP ANOTHER ONE ABOUT THE LOSS OF SARKAZ LIVES, I AM DEVASTATED. Yeah, nothing can beat the sheer loneliness that Mlynar Nearl has soaked into his furniture descriptions because at least Sarkaz sticks together, but there's so much to unpack here I don't even know where to begin.
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Portable Mailbox
A small, movable desk with a pile of letters stacked on top and a small lamp inside. Sometimes, Hoederer gets pieces of historical excerpts sent to him, but their senders have often already become part of history before he is able to reply.
This is what got me crying in bed when I first bought the room and went through all the pieces to read their descriptions. There is something so heart-rending about living a life full of loss. Home. Friends. Family. Relationships. Everybody turns against everybody and you have to both accept it and move on with it, because if you linger for too long - you end up dead, but if you keep being paranoid about it you will just never know peace.
I lost two close people and have been wallowing in my misery for months now. Maybe that is one more thing that really makes me like Hoederer. And I do like him.
The way I see him, he is somebody who strives to move forward without never forgetting where he started from and who he was. It's both endearing and charming and it's a great characteristic to have. It's so HARD to have it, regardless if we are talking Arknights, another game character, or IRL in general. Maybe /I'm/ being too much about it, but that's what 'comfort characters' are about, right?
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Basement Wall Lamp
A lamp installed on the wall with a yellow glow and exposed wires. A red scrap of cloth is tied around the metal ring. Eventually, Ines broke free of the rope tied around her wrists and took her out in her sleep.
I genuinely love the design of the wall lamp. Except when it comes to the description. What the absolute ever-loving hell.
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"Door Of Life"
A heavy double-action door that separates the living space from the workspace. One side is for living, and the other side is for making a living. To Sarkaz mercenaries, the two might not be all that different.
If this is also a sliding door I can absolutely confirm that maybe I am a part Sarkaz in the way I live, because my bedroom is separated from the living room with a sliding door like that with a handle and it is a big difference where you are living and where you are 'making' the living.
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Work Area Rug
A rug resistant to stains and heat, ironically covered in tracks and oil stains. The good news is that the deep red color did not originate from dried blood.
Yeah? Thank goodness. We'd have to run some tests to figure out whose it is if we find a random blood puddle on Rhodes Island.
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Simple Welded Chair
A high chair put together from industrial waste. Sturdy and durable, the beast skin covering it was specially treated and seems smooth and sleek to the touch. In Kazdel, kids tend to grab waste materials to renovate their dust-laden lives.
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Work Area Wall-mounted Rack
A rack used to hang tools. Pieced together from recycled metals and extremely heavy, the good thing is that it saves space. Once, the mercenaries would hang their equipment from it. That equipment has long since scattered across the lands.
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"Maybe a Bonsai"
A handcrafted cabinet used to store tools. In the vase sitting atop—welded together from scrap metal—is the only splash of green in the room. Back in that small house in the cramped Kazdel slums, it wasn't a sprouted potato they planted.
Okay, but, do you know what this means? Kazdel is familiar with what bonsai is. They know that little planted trees in pretty, perhaps painted or perhaps simpler in style potteries get to be a breath of green inside your house. Everybody and their aunt get to have a bonsai because it represents life and new beginnings and whatever folk tale they might have abound them.
I'm falling apart.
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Weapon Maintenance Table
A small maintenance table used for the repair and upkeep of weapons. Not only do you need to smooth out any blemishes, you also need to wipe away the blood. This is where Ines learned to sew and mend her clothes years ago.
Me hanging out there for absolutely no reason with my overhead lamp and under-hand lamp while I'm cross-stitching. That's how I imagine this being used. Perhaps me and Ines can have tea here.
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Work Area Ceiling Lights
A light source used for precision tasks. Warm, stable, and dependable. Comes with an air ventilation system to ensure that any volatile gases or metallic dust can be removed in time. Hoederer often worked under its light, quiet and taciturn.
Now that I am well-prepared with the horrors that are the living conditions of the Sarkaz, I'm going to go check out how things have been going with Hoederer's skills and then we actually start Chapter 13 reading.
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In the meantime, this is what the Bandorio list looks like. Except here, I forgot to take out Noir and Nothing because Lessing, Zhuo Le and Logos are coming. A lot of men with L in their names approaching my vicinity.
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Decided to start top to bottom since I don't think I might need him yet for the Adverse stages. It's been two weeks almost, so he's pretty much complete. Otherwise, I wouldn't have had the gall to offer my services to those who got him but have other priorities.
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...
You--- What even is this? Cyclicene Prefab? Another rock? It was a joke at first, but this is becoming ridiculous. ALL my men either huff paint or eat salt and nobody is going to bat an eye for it? What do you NEED this for???
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An industrial product arrived at through the introduction of several excellent materials into the synthesis process, preserving luminous transmittance while vastly increasing strength and shock resistance. Prospects are high for its wide adoption in the field of defense.
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Guess we are going to deal with M3-ing the other skill while I am dealing with this.
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...
...
You're joking.
The gel. He wants his gel back.
At least I got to grind enough to get him up as fast as possible. Every single day was a: log-on, get base money and cards, level him up with like... 2-3 levels and leave up to 80 and then every day was a single level grind until I had no sanity.
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Well, Mrs. Zofia, we are on a standstill until I manage to procure any coagulated gel. Tempted to pump levels into Crimson Solitaire or some other, but I'm not in the mood.
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Imagine Zofia walks into the training room, having come from Lundi's RI specifically because she has to train with Hoederer and then just spots him eating a whole, boiled chicken for his regimen.
Pinkie: "She would thumbs-up him as a greeting." Me: "I love him."
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vacantgodling · 1 year
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🖊🖊🖊, Julissa, San and Chidori !
thank youuuu 🥺🥺
juls my baby haha you deserve so much better 😭 some random factoids about juls: she loves the color yellow (has a yellow phone case, yellow amp, yellow guitar—you get the idea) bc of a near death experience in her childhood involving a yellow elevator. if i say anymore it’s spoilers but she holds that color close for a reason lol. she’s also very bi. the narrative does focus a lot on her attraction to joaquin (bc he’s hot like 😭) but i know from Meta she is attracted to pretty much all the friends she has except rene bc rene has a gf and he’s not really her type lmao. but saul, andres, daisy & joaquin she’s 👀. honestly when i write draft two i think im gonna try to make it More obvious that she’s attracted to all of them lol. in the “it never happened” au they’re a polycue to me. she adores her older sister juvia and would fight tooth and nail for her, but she has an estranged relationship from both of her parents. her original goal at the start of the book is to become a famous recording artist but her dream quickly shifts to i just want to be a one hit wonder. make one great song, get money and fame, then disappear from the public eye. she’s both headstrong and cowardly at the same time—just a girl full of juxtapositions lol
san 🤌🏾🤌🏾 SHE. so, san is a hunter—hunters are the first specialized fighting class that ever came into being in terrae (came about around 450-470 but i cant be assed to pull out the timeline rn) as a response to the decimation and overrun of the first capital city of terrae, argos. hunters are very proud of their heritage and it’s pretty unusual for them to enter guilds but san (and her sister moira by proxy) are some of the few exceptions. hunters are ALL ABOUT DAMAGE BABY. armor? who needs that we die like men. they tend to wear revealing, hardly armored clothes made of leather and hides, decorated with furs, spikes and belts (this goes for all genders—it came about bc when hunters came into being there was a huuuuge shortage on materials to make armor so they just went without and it’s become a tradition at this point). san herself uses a short sword and a whip, usually in tandem. she’s the youngest of the mc bunch, and it kind of shows in her temper 😅. she has a huge grudge against her elder sister (aforementioned moira) and hates being seen as weak. she’s very argumentative and untrusting, which isn’t unusual for someone from eros however san does take it to an extreme. it does eventually mellow out for her as she learns to trust her team but MAN she has them all going through it for awhile lmao
chidorkyyyyy. i’ve rambled about him so much already tbh lol but something i do wanna draw attention to is despite how fun loving, energetic, clumsy etc that he is, he’s extremely good at his job as a train master. it’s like he was born for it in many ways. i get the whole thing of having mcs who are incompetent bc they have to learn and they’re underdogs but i don’t really want that for chidorky? like he’s quite skilled and it’s hard to tell Why bc he’s never done this before yknow! he also has great chemistry with his weapon, torment, which is embedded with cool ass glowing pink gems btw. but i haven’t figured out the entire weapon system i just know it’s one of those “your weapon chooses you” situations. he can be very serious when he needs to be and it throws people off guard tho basically lol
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15 questions to get to know me
Bestie @oonajaeadira didn't tag me in this but I'm gonna do it anyway just to spite her.
1. are you named after anyone?
No and I'm a bit salty about that. I have two brothers and they both have family names. My name was picked at random and my middle name was originally going to be my first name until my mother heard a terrible nickname for it at the grocery store. I am so thankful for that because I HATE my middle name and don't use it unless legally required.
2. when was the last time you cried?
Last night! It was just a few tears, but I just started watching Euphoria and have been cruising through it and watched Season 2 episode 5, "Stand Still Like the Hummingbird," which was gut-wrenching and also one of the best episodes of TV I've ever seen.
3. do you have kids?
Nope and that's not going to happen. For the longest time I didn't want kids and then I went through a few years where I did, and now I'm just happy being the weird aunt to kids who aren't even related to me.
4. do you use sarcasm a lot?
I try not to. The majority of the time it comes off as cruel to me.
5. what’s the first thing you notice about people?
Weirdly, their hair. It's weird because I know nothing about hair or hairstyles but maybe my eyes just start with the top of the head when I meet someone. But I find myself thinking a lot, "wow, they have cool hair!"
6. what’s your eye colour?
Yellow ring around the pupil, blue ring around the outside, green in the middle. I do love them even though an optometrist once asked me what I say my eye color is and I said, "hazel?" uncertainly and they replied, completely deadpan, "That's a made-up color." So I just say "green."
Also fun fact: my dad and I have the exact same weird eye color AND are the only two in my immediate family who are near sighted.
7. scary movies or happy endings?
scary! sometimes I need a good happy ending, but a lot of the time I get mad when I feel like it's not earned.
8. any special talents?
I'm a really fast learner of anything I'm interested in. Also very good at teaching myself new skills.
9. where were you born?
a stupid town in Minnesota. but now I live in an awesome city in Minnesota and never go back there.
10: what are your hobbies?
Reading, writing, video games, puzzles, knitting, gardening, house projects, and hiking. I just want to be an old timey spinster.
11. have you any pets?
I have the best pets! My two black cats who are twin boys (from the same litter). They're sweet and snuggly and sometimes are assholes and are very entertaining. They totally make my life better and the three of us are super bonded.
12: what sports do you play/have you played?
Growing up my dad and older brother were really into sports and I tried to follow suit but was terrible at everything I tried. I did softball, basketball, tennis, and golf. My other problem was I just didn't care about winning or not and everyone else did, which I thought was dumb. I just wanted to have fun.
Thankfully I also did music and theatre and thrived in those. When I was older I trained in martial arts for ten years, which was the first time I realized all the things my body could do because I wasn't competing, just learning. I also do open water swimming in the summers, just because I really like to swim.
13: how tall are you?
5′9″
14. favourite subject in school?
"Language Arts" (English) was always my favorite, as well as orchestra, theatre, and art.
15. dream job?
I want to be retired and travel a lot. Seriously. If I had the choice, I would not work. Or maybe run a B&B in Costa Rica.
tagging: @beecastle @serpentstyles @nissameta1782 @trinikins @sunflowersturn and anyone else who is interested: MAKE A NEW POST with your answers!
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kittrrrr · 2 years
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Inktobertale (16)
I think that not all of the Inktobertale posts say the same thing for the title. I might fix that sometime. Ink takes backseat, & it's not very original, but it's a double drabble, and I'm question my decision to post this on Tumblr at this hour, but here you go? Also, pretty sure this is stream of couniness, right here in the notes, and there on the page. ======
Dream was cold. So cold. He could feel everything. Not just the lingering emotions in his AU, but emotions everywhere. So many were positive, but so many were negative, too. Nightmare- No, Nighty, that creature couldn't possibly be his brother, at least anymore- had taught Dream of a balance. He could feel it now. He was so cold. So cold. Positive emotions could not touch him, free him in his special hell. Or maybe it was purgatory. The multiverse was kind enough that Dream was in and out of counsiness. He could feel his wakefulness fading, and while Dream normally didn't fight it, this time he did. There was a twisted hope that something might happen. He knew it wasn't likely, but he could hope, couldn't he? He'd thought that he'd lost any sort of hope long ago. Why did this feel different? Oh. The stature. Dream felt it break and crack.
He stumbled out of the husk that was left, grateful to be able to move again, but not used to it. How? This was the question that was on the front of Dream's mind. He looked around. Dreamtale was a husk of itself, just like Nighty. The sky was grey, the sun was dimmer than the moon, and dust, decay and death floated through the air. What caught Dream's attention was a figure that was maybe two Dreams tall. He might not have been such a sight in the Dreamtale of old, but here in the ruins he was quiet out of place. He wore a sash full of colorful dye, and his eyelights changed every moment. Dream was interested by the skeleton. He thought that only him and Nighty were the only skeletons.
He said something that Dream didn't understand. It sounded a lot like a language that Nighty had told him about, but the only words Dream recognized were name and ink. Ink must be the name of the skeleton standing in front of him. Dream was shaken out of his stupor when the figure offered his hand to him. Be polite, Dream thought, and grabbed Ink's hand. Ink helped the child up. Dream introduced himself, but realized that the skeleton couldn't understand him either. Ink grabbed his hand and pulled him through a doorway looking thing, like the one that Dream vaguely recalled Nightmare left through. Dream braced himself when he went through it. Dream barely had time to look around his new, brighter surrounding before-
-Present
"Dream! Dream!" Dream opened his socket and looked around. He was in a council meeting, and the council members were waiting for his report. He'd fallen asleep. "Dream, you fell asleep!" The skeleton who woke him was a Flower, a delicate light green skeleton from a random AU.
"Oh, sorry." Dream launched into his report, unaware of Ink's studying of him. Maybe he knew what memory he'd been reliving inside of his dreams. Or maybe Ink had decided that the yellow skeleton was the most interesting thing in the, frankly, dull room.   
Cross had been sitting in the council room for what felt like ages. It was monotonous, and Cross knew monotones. His AU had been majorly black-and-white, after all. He wished that he could fall asleep like Dream, but he knew that he should be paying attention, and that was enough to keep him awake. Oh, the woes of a former royal guard. It didn't stop his attention from wandering. As his stare wandered the room, it landed on Ink. Cross had a complicated relationship with Ink. 
It had been another normal tedious day in the void that was all that was left of XTale. Chara hadn't shut up in ages. They tried to engage with conversation with Cross, and most of the time he indulged. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. But Cross was partially distracted that day, and the stress of the non-existent world had caught up with him. He liked to wander, mostly in circles. But suddenly, he just collapsed. He started crying, and Chara couldn't comfort him. His purple tears dripped from his face, in a river, a torrent. The purple was the only color that Cross had seen in a while, but it was just as bad as the white. It served to remind him of the world he lost. Just when he thought that the sadness would consume him, and he'd be there forever, crying the regrets of a forgotten world, he heard something.
A whoosh. It was the first thing he'd heard in a very long time, and he turned to the source, ready to fight if needed. The skeleton who appeared looked familiar, though Cross couldn't place why. But the thing that Cross found the most engrossing about the skeleton was the color. He was so full of color. There was more color than the whole of XTale. It was entrancing. The skeleton greeted him, and the two made small talk until the skeleton, Ink, had to leave. But he came back. Again and again. Until he could not be called less than family. That's why it was so heartbreaking when Ink showed him the vial.
The vial. However complicated Cross's relation to Ink, his relation to the soul in the vial was ten, no, a hundred times more complex. Then... Ink left Cross. He had been gone for so long, it was no wonder why that Cross joined Nightmare. Then the two fought for almost two years before a truce was negotiated.
-Present
And now Cross and Chara still had to figure out what they wanted to be to Ink. Chara had resolved to hate him, and Cross had let them use the body for a bit so they could tell Ink as much. But Cross still had no answer, neither for himself or Ink. He thought long and hard about it through the rest of the council meeting, but he had no answer at the end of the meeting. Cross looked to Chara, and they told him what had made up their mind.
"Just go with whatever comes to mind." They told him. It didn't really help Cross, but he nodded and decided to try it, anyway. After the meeting, Cross told Nightmare that he was going to be a moment and found Ink just before he was about to leave. It wasn't now or never, there was plenty of time, but Cross might lose his courage if he didn't do it now. 
"Hey, Ink! Wait up! I-I'm sick of being being in this weird limdo. We should try again. We- It wasn't fair of me to judge you for what you'd been tricked into. I've done that enough times. And it wasn't nice of you to forget me, but it's in your nature. I shouldn't have held that against you. I-I wasn't thinking straight, and I- What I'm trying to say is that I think we should try to be friends again, and I'm sorry for what happened." Ink was quiet long enough that Nightmare came over. He came over in time to see Ink hugging Cross as though he was the last person in the world. 
"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." 
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snekverse · 1 year
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OC time!!
i have recently recycled these babies so they’re not like,, fully fleshed out lol but I wanna talk abt em anyways!! A lot of this is going to be chalk full of spoilers for my rewrite if I ever get around to actually writing it, so be warned!! they’re mostly small details tho so it’s not too huge but still
@the-tismification-of-aaron-lycan​
Della:
phys desciption: human, avg height, curvy and muscular hourglass build, moroccan, curly blonde hair (always covered by a hijab, her favorite of which is golden rod yellow), brown eyes, late teens/early 20s, her “signature color” is rust orange
Juror during Zane’s tenure, one of the only jurors not handpicked by Zane, although he did obviously have a say in her getting the position. She doesn’t have a confirmed jury title yet, but her temp title is Crystal Vision
Magics user with the ability to see into the future. due to her age + other factors her ability to control said magics is somewhat limited; she has very little control over how far forward she sees and visions tend to come to her at random rather than her intentionally making them happen (not to say that she can’t induce visions). she also tends to accidentally induce visions when she becomes stressed or overwhelmed
the magics came mostly naturally, more of a gift, and now that she’s reached a point in her practice where she actually needs to work at it she’s at a loss. on the path to magical gifted kid burnout
she has very little family and no friends from childhood, growing up with only her mother. They lived in a smaller, very religious town not far from Okhasis, and as such she grew up deeply religious
By nature she is very kind and compassionate albeit timid. However the rarity of her magic garnered a lot of negative attention, and a lot of people tried to find ways to use her for it, often through cruel means. As such, she has become anxious and paranoid
in terms of trying to use her the Jury/Okhasis is no different, something she didn’t realize until it was too late. She hates being in the Jury, but is too afraid of what might happen to her and/or her mother if she tries to leave
her story ends during the 15yr timeskip, when she is tried and executed for treason on account of not being able to predict/prevent Zane’s disappearance. 
Elliott: 
phys description: werewolf, tall, somewhat lean but sturdy inverted triangle build, central european, messy dark brown hair, black eyes, mid 30s, his “signature color” is eggplant purple
Corinne’s husband and Lia’s father
Juror during Zane’s tenure, recruited thanks to the interference of his wife Corinne. He has no particularly strong feelings about Zane, the Jury, or any of their questionable morals; for him it’s really just a job. His Jury Title is Wolf’s Bane
He doesn’t use any weapons, in human form or wolf, but Corinne does provide various potions and elixirs to boost his attacks, which he often takes advantage of in the form of poison-tipped claws
He’s been essentially disowned by his family after he was turned, and he has learned to “accept it” (*cough* repress it *cough*). Even if they refuse to associate with him, he has a mother, father, and three younger brothers. He originally hails from a very small farming-central village in the south of Ru’an, went on the run for years after being turned before meeting Corinne in Okhasis, where he settled.
He’s very cocky and self-assured by nature, definitely kind of an asshole. All the trauma of being turned and disowned left him bitter and angry, traits he has to this day. He doesn’t have a whole bunch of positive qualities lol
He does love his wife wholeheartedly though, as well as his daughter. Everything he does he does with his family in mind. He wants to be better to them than his family was for him, and often that ends up with him stubbornly believing everything he does is right (bc he’s doing it for them and if they argue then they’re ungrateful etc yall know how this goes)
his story ends during the 15yr timeskip; he gets killed in the line of battle during the war with Tu’la, loyal to his nation and family til the very end
Corinne:
phys description: witch, avg height, curvy pear-shaped build, vietnamese, straight dark orange hair, brown eyes, early 30s, her “signature color” is wine red
Elliott’s wife and Lia’s mother
Not a juror, but very closely connected to Zane, the Jury, and other Okhasian nobility through her husband’s juror status, something she enjoys taking advantage of
she is native to Okhasis, coming from a semi-noble family, not super high in the politics chain but well above the average citizen
Her dream was to be one of the “top dogs” in Okhasis, if not the entirety of Ru’an. She got this from her mother who had a similar goal.
Marrying Elliott was something more akin to an investment for her; she saw that he had potential and pushed him to reach for something greater (the jury), ultimately raising her own status drastically
She is incredibly selfish and vain, caring for no one but herself. She gets away with it by being manipulatively charming
During the timeskip very little changed in terms of her goals. at some point she figured Tu’la was likely going to take over, she abandoned everything and swapped sides, working her way up in Tu’lan society. She is currently remarried to a well respected Tu’an general
Cordelia/Lia:
phys description: werewolf, tall but not as tall as her father, lean rectangular build, mixed (european/vietnamese), curly dark orange hair, brown/black eyes, 7(s1), 22 post timeskip, her “signature color” is rose pink as a child and dusty rose as an adult
Daughter of Elliott and Corinne
Her parents were deeply involved in the Jury and Okhasis politics and struggled to give her the attention she needed; as a result, she was never very close to them (plus a million other mental health issue lmao)
Feels responsible for her parent’s wrongdoings despite not having a hand in any of it. As an adult she chooses to travel the world and right her parent’s wrongs wherever she can
Her father dies and her mother abandoned her shortly after the war started. She learned to fight and survive, barely escaping Okhasis in hner early teens alongside many other orphaned and abandoned children that she helped along her way
She’s about the same age as Abby; they weren’t close as children due to their parents not getting along, but their paths cross again in adulthood and they briefly become travel companions. They’re still not close, but they’re not enemies, so she counts it as a win
She actually has an awful crush on Abby in adulthood, but it isn’t reciprocated (yet?)
After parting ways with Abby she finds Mikai, and begins working with him and helping Tu’la refugees
Violetta:
phys description: human/mage, fairly short, chubby build, chilean, curly black hair, violet eyes, mid 20s, her “signature color” is violet (go figure lol)
something of a bounty hunter, willing to do increasingly awful things if given enough money
One of her earliest assignments was to murder Zane. She ended up failing, and was given a new assignment by him in exchange for her life (to remove a certain juror from the equation). She now is offering unofficial aid to Tu’la, who are using her to continue picking off uncooperative Ru’an nobility.
she specializes in magic that can bend light, creating optical illusions and more impressively turning things (and herself) invisible, a trick she utilizes for her job
she has a very laidback personality, very intelligent and sly but always keeping a very relaxed and often very charming demeanor
though she would never state it, she originally comes from falcon claw, her family relocating the the eastern edge of Ru’an shortly before falcon claw is decimated
Her family is nothing to write home about, both parents and her little brother are alive and well in eastern Ru’an. She’s on good terms with all three of them, but rarely visits and refuses to tell them what she does for work (she’s afraid of them reacting poorly)
she wholeheartedly believes the story about Aaron being responsible for the falcon claw massacre, and her desire for closure/revenge is partially why she become involved in bounty hunting. despite essentially dedicating her life to finding him, he has always managed to elude her, so much so she’s not even sure he’s alive
By the time of the timeskip she’s become more focused on her work + her own survival more than anything else, and no longer has that drive for vengeance
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unlimitedtrees · 10 months
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youtube
the earliest build i have from my very first game, 'Mr. Waffle Lover'
wat da freak ... im about to make Three posts in a row ?? impossible... so Hi. in case u havent seen my Last Big Post, one of my first projects was a game called 'Mr. Waffle Lover'. it started in early 2014 until late 2017 and it went through Tons of wildly different iterations. and also, if u read da last post youd know i lost nearly All of those builds of the game.
Despite losing like, 3 years of my own history, ive managed to find a few builds from multiple iterations of my game, with this one being the earliest iteration i have. this is the Third iteration of the game's development.. and there isnt a whole lot to say about it. it is a Very Basic, Very Primitive platformer made by an 11 year old. this build in particular has only Two levels . i Think more were made at some point, but it's hard to remember. at one point, i made a ""mobile version demo"" of the game for the tablet i had at the time (the game did not work on it), and thats the version u see in the video i posted. For Some Reason, i decided to strip any other level that may have existed in the game and just made it a demo even though i was the Only Person who could play the game.. so i dont have much from this iteration. i Do have an Earlier build that i put on github, but there isnt a whole lot of differences to this demo version.
Anyways, i think, for the rest of this post, imma go a little in depth about the Origins of this game and what it was actually Supposed to be .. click the Read Me thingy if u Dare !!!
So, it all started in 2013 . i was a Bored little creature who liked to draw things and was Deep into Minecraft for the Xbox 360. and one day i created a little comic with a character called 'Mr. Waffle Lover'.. And He Looked Like This:
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That's Right , my very first OC is Just a skin from one of the minecraft xbox 360 edition skin packs. this was the skin i played as a lot back then, and 'Mr. Waffle Lover' was my self insert in the comic. why is he called 'Mr. Waffle Lover' you may ask? because i liked to eat waffles a lot. that became his main character trait. Eventually, when the game became A Thing, i would slowly change his design from just a copy of a minecraft skin, first giving him heterochromia and Gloves which spawned TNT, then later giving him a yellow shirt to match with his love for waffles, and then i just make him a Girl (but That is a story for Another Day . .. )
Anyways , on my birthday in 2014 i got a windows 8 laptop, and then in october i learned about construct 2 and decided i Needed to make a video game. ever since i was a fetus ive always wanted to make a video game,, with one of the earliest ideas for a game i remember having is when i was like 5 and wanted to make 'New Sonic the Hedgehog Wii' (a copy of New Super Mario Bros. Wii but featuring multiple colored Sonics).
ANYWAYS , one of the first video games i ever made was Mr. Waffle Lover......... Well Actually, Technically that is not true, as a few months before i tried using some Random in-browser game program that i dont remember the name of to make something called the 'Egg Game'... but it never went anywhere beyond me putting a stock Egg image into the program and then giving up.
my initial inspiration for making a game about the Mr. Waffle Lover character was when i played a game called 'Ms. Splosion Man' on the xbox 360. i thought the game play was interesting but i got stuck at one of the puzzles so i was like 'I Want to make this game but Better and with MY character !'. And So, i thought of the idea of Waffle Lover having Gloves that spawn TNT that he uses to jump high like in Ms. Splosion Man....... but i never got to actually implement it until the 'mid 2015' build that i posted earlier... and i removed it entirely afterwards and just made the game a Basic 2D Platformer for awhile.
so yea. this game was supposed to be just a simple 2d platformer featuring my sort of self insert OC based off a minecraft skin. there wasnt really much to it conceptually... just wanted to make a video game! that's all my ideas were at the time.. the only "Story" this game has is 'Waffle Lover gets his Waffles stolen by some Scientist People and he needs to Stop Them !!!!'. the game eventually got some sort of story over time... but for now all u need to know is that this game is A Game that I Wanted To Make. it doesnt get purer than that.
with the first iteration of my game being my first game Ever, i had No Idea how to do things. all of the small sprites were stretched out to fit the HD screen resolution, making everything blurry. the gameplay was Very Basic and the levels were simple. the HUD didnt even stay centered on the screen... instead it used the 'pin behavior' to be pinned on the player object (which did not work and the HUD would move around the object). And the worst aspect of it was that i did Not know how to make layouts in construct 2 use other event sheets or Objects from other layouts..... meaning every layout (meaning every level) uses Completely Different programming And objects .... Not Only That , but i only had the Trial version of construct 2 at that time.... so i could only use 100 'events'... meaning i could only put So Much code in the game before i reached the limit (and with every level using its own separate events for everything, i ran out of events Pretty Quickly and couldnt make any more levels.
I So Desperately Wish i could show that first iteration of the game with you. it was Very Weird and Bad but it was so Lovely. to say the least.. it was quite the learning experience ! I can Vividly remember me making the very first layout in the game,, with it just being the Waffle Lover sprite moving around a white background and a bunch of badly placed collision objects. it was a Sight to Behold . But Sadly... when i decided to completely redo the game, i deleted the whole project file for it, and its pretty much Lost forever now. the only remains are some random sprites from it i still have... other than that there Was a trailer i made for it once and i Think i released a demo for it once... but both of those are Long gone now.
anyways. for the second iteration of the game i decided to make it an ""HD"" version of the game, using higher resolution sprites and a 3d animated version of Waffle Lover.... However this 3d version is Actually just a minecraft skin of him made in Mine-imator, an Old 3D animating software Exclusively made for making minecraft animations. So , the game had a bunch of bad tilesets and a badly animated prerendered sprite of a minecraft skin for its player character. i dont remember much from that point of the game's development other than it did not last very long and it looked Funny. i dont even think it got past one level... as i struggled with making high resolution art (i only had ms paint and construct 2's built in image editor, so, yea). i Think everything from that era of the game's development is Gone, HOWEVER i THINK i might have the files for the Mine-imator animations Somewhere... maybe. i Think i saw the files on my old laptop for some mine-imator project but i was unable to open them and i dont know if i saved them anywhere so. Idk.
and now, this leads us to the Third iteration of the game... which is the one i showed in this post. as you can see in the video, i finally figured out how to make pixel art look not blurry. i also figured out how to make different layouts use the same event sheets. i even figured out how to make a HUD... incredible ! other than all of that, there's not much to say about it. it's just not as silly looking as the earlier iterations were... and its not really Fun to play. its not even all that janky.. its just basic. i worked on it for awhile, but then i gave up on it and moved onto the mid 2015 iteration.. and the rest of the game's history is a story for Another Time..
if there's anything i can say about this old game.. it's that you can Definitely see how much ive grown since then. whoever is reading this, i Really hope this is not your first introduction to my work.... cus my stuff nowadays is Insane compared to this... a lot has happened in the like, 8 years since ive started game development. and i have so much stories i want to share,,, i hope i can keep sharing those stories with you. oh and also, if you Really have never heard of my work before... um.... Play UNITRES Dreams on Newgrounds dot com. LOL!!!!!!
That is All i want to talk about for today i think. I Think. hope my posts are comprehensible to u ! Oh , And Before i forget , the build of the game in the video i posted is in the ProjectWaffle google doc archive ... and the Earliest Build i have is on github. check it out If U Wish !
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arcanadreams · 3 years
Text
That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral
hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours
also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom
Lucifer:
You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!
You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.
Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!
About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.
He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.
Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.
Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.
Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.
Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.
Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)
Mammon:
Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?) 
He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...
You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.
The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.
“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.
“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~” 
You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:
“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”
“Honey.”
Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.
“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-
Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)
Leviathan:
Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.
You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams. 
It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.
However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.
Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.
Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!
Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that. 
Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.
You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-
You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.
Satan:
There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way. 
Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.
However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism. 
This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.
You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.
The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.
“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?” 
(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)
Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-
When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.
Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on. 
Asmodeus:
I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.
However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.
Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.
You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.
A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.
“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be  careful of his nails.
Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”
“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process. 
“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”
Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care. 
Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.
Beelzebub:
Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet. 
It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.
So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention. 
You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)
A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:
You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.
Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.
The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.
The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.
Belphegor:
If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)
Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram. 
Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.
So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place. 
And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.
So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.
Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.
They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly. 
The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.
“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.
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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years
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“Harry’s stylist, right?”
Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?
or
Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump
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this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)
Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)
part 2
-
“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”
Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.
Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.
Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.
Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.
The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.
The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.  
“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.
She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.
It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.
While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.
She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.
“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”
She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.
“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”
“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”
She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.
“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”
She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.
“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”
She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.
He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.
She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.
-
One week later
“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.
When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.
“H?”
She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.
Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.
“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”
Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”
He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”
“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.
“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.
Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.
“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.
She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers.  But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.
After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.
“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.
Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”
The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.
One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.
Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.
“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”
Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.
“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.
“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”
Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.
Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.
“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.
She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.
“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.
He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.
“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.
Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.
“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.
Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.
Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.
“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.
Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.
“Ow!”
“Oh my god!”
While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”
Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.
“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”
“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”
This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.
“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.
On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.
Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.
“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.
Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.
“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”
“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.
Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.
“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”
“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.
“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.
-
It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.
Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.
She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.
Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.
“Seriously, H?”
She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.
“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”
Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.
“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”
“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.
“Can’t it be both?”
“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.
She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.
When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.
“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.
He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”
“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.
“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.
Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.
“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.
“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.
“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.
“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.
“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”
“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.
Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.
“I like it…”
“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”
Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.
“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.
They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.
Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.
As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.
“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”
Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”
Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”
Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”
Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”
“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”
“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”
Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.
The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.
“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.
Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.
What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.
She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.
The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.
Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”
She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules.  Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.
“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”
Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.
“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”
The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.
Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.
“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.
“Just a little for my taste.”
“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.
Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”
Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.
Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”
Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.
He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.
“Thank you.”
Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.
“Y/N, right!?”
Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.
“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”
Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.
“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”
Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.
“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”
Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”
“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”
“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.
Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.  
“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.
“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.
Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.
“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”
Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”
Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”
When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.
Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”
Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.
“I wasn’t!”
Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.
“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.
“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.
“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”
Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.
“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.
Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.
“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.
Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.
-
Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x
Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.
When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.
While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.
As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.
I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H  
Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:
Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x
Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.
Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.
Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.
He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.
“What happened to not drinking tonight?”
She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.
“So, Harry, care to explain?”
“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.
“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”
“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”
“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”
“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.
“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.
Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.
“And on the face?”
She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.
His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.
“Lipstick?”
She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.
“It was only from-”
“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing�� or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.
“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”
“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”
She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”
He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.
“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”
His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.
She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.
-
She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.
“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.
“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.
Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”
“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.
When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.
“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”  
“I told you already. It’s fine.”
“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”
She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.
“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.
She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”
Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”
She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”
He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”
“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.
As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”
“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”
“Yes!”
The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.
Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.
A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”
“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.
“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.
-
Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.
Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.
“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.
“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.
“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.
“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.
He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.
“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.
Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.
“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.
“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”
His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.
-
When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.
Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.
The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.
As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.
When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.
What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.
None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.
Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!
What are you wearing??
That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N
Seriously?
Please call me.
CALL ME. NOW.
      - All from Jeff.
She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.
part 2
5K notes · View notes
mercurygguk · 3 years
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the ikea test | jjk
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genre; fluff/comedy
pairing; cockblocked!jeongguk x female reader
➵ summary; you and jeongguk face the IKEA test. successfully? sure!
word count; 1,179
warnings; none, just comedy/fluff, domestic shit bc i love it
note; this is the cockblocked couple, and this is a drabble after the end of the original fanfic. it can be read alone but i suggest you read the full fanfic for it to make the most sense :) also, if there’s any scenarios you’d like to see with this couple, please let me know in an ask!
➵ READ ORIGINAL FIC HERE
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there are tests you automatically have to go through as a couple. jeongguk and you have conquered them all so far; finding a routine in the way you go grocery shopping, come to agreement on what colors the pillows on the couch should be, who’s turn it is to cook for the other and even the challenge of graduating university and hunting for a job as a fresh graduate. these were all easily solved, figured out as a team and wiped from your mental board of things to get done and over with.
one test you haven’t conquered yet though, is the IKEA test. to be honest, you have feared this test since jeongguk suggested finding a new apartment together. you remember the day clear as day, thinking back...
“baby,” jeongguk had whispered, lips pressed against the back of your head as you sat between his legs on the couch. you hum in response, not taking your gaze off the laptop in your lap but still listening to what he has to say. “i was thinking...”
he trails off, fingers twirling strands of your hair. you wait patiently, knowing him well enough to know that he likes to take breaks like this before saying something you might not agree with.
“i was thinking we could go look at apartments,” he then says. you freeze in his arms, whipping around to look at your curly haired boyfriend. he smiles at you. “like find our place, you know?”
“what about this one?”
he shrugs. “it’s too big for us,” he points out. he’s not wrong. “we only use my bedroom. it’s a waste of rent money, baby.”
you hum in response, thinking over his proposal. you do like the idea of finding a place that is your both’s home, one you find together. jeongguk is right. this apartment is too big for the two of you, the extra bedroom is just a waste of rent money that could be used for other things.
“okay,” you accept his proposal. jeongguk smiles brightly at you as he cups your face in his hands, pulling you in for a kiss.
and you’ve found the perfect apartment. a two-bedroom apartment not too far away from the old one. it had the perfect size, big windows in the living room slash kitchen that caused a lot of natural light to flow into the room. the walls were freshly painted in white and a brand new kitchen had been installed. the bathroom was brand new as well. sure, the deposit was rather expensive but you and jeongguk had agreed that it was alright as you would get an apartment with a brand new kitchen and bathroom. the apartment even had a balcony which was big enough for a small table and two chairs, perfect for breakfast on lazy days in the summer.
“we should make a list of things we need,” you tell jeongguk as you plop down in his lap on the couch while clutching your iPad in your hands. jeongguk gives you a confused look. you raise your eyebrows. “you know, we’re missing a lot of things. like a bathmat for the ridiculously slippery tiles in the bathroom.”
jeongguk chuckles, snaking an arm around your waist. “wanna arrange a trip to ikea?” your eyes widened at this. jeongguk notices, a frown on his lips before you even get to say a word. “what?”
you clear your throat before speaking. “um, are we ready for... you know, the ikea test?”
if he was confused before, jeongguk certainly is now. “the ikea test?” he repeats your words carefully.
you nod, face serious as you look him in the eye. “you don’t know about that?”
jeongguk shakes his head, suddenly looking slightly terrified as tests have never been something he aced. you can’t help but giggle as the realisation hits you. you wrap your arms around his neck, smiling. “gguk, it’s not an actual test,” you assure him, giggling again as he sighs in relief.
“thank god,” he breathes out, noticeably relaxing into the couch. “don’t stress me out like that, jeez.”
you roll your eyes. “calm down, will you? let’s go, ikea is waiting,” you pat his cheek gently before getting off his lap. he watches you as you stalk off towards the bedroom of your new apartment. your now shared bedroom. jeongguk smiles to himself before getting up and following in your tracks.
ikea is big, jeongguk thinks to himself as he gets out of the car. he looks at the big yellow and blue building, face scrunched up in something you can’t quite decipher. jeongguk swears this building gets bigger every time he’s here. he starts to regret his suggestion of going to ikea as you grab his hand and tug him along.
“is there always so many people here?” jeongguk mutters more to himself than you, but you hear him anyway, simply chuckling in response. he grabs a cart by orders from you. and soon enough you’re filling the cart with random stuff that jeongguk did not know were missing in your apartment. you dump a thing jeongguk has no idea what is into the cart. “you really need that? do you even know what it is?”
you scoff, giving a your boyfriend a look of ‘really?’ You walk further down the rows of kitchen tools, glancing over them. jeongguk sighs deeply. this was going to be expensive as hell. good thing, you’re paying half of it.
the furniture section is less crowded, more manageable for jeongguk’s simple mind. he spots a cushioned chair that he likes, wheeling the cart in the direction of it. you follow behind, finding yourself liking the chair just as much as jeongguk. you don’t really need it but it would look amazing along with the couch that is already in your new apartment. it’s a mutual decision that this chair is coming home with you.
hours later you’re back home, struggling to carry the things upstairs to your new home. jeongguk does you a favour and grabs the heavy things, piling them in the elevator. you reach the floor of your apartment when jeongguk is done moving the new stuff from the elevator and inside the apartment. “how are you so fast?” you pant as you place the ikea bag on the kitchen island.
jeongguk smirks at you, raising his one arm to flex it. “it’s all in the muscles, baby,” he grins as you roll your eyes. “if you went to the gym more often, you’d know.”
the smug man you call your boyfriend doesn’t see you coming at him with force, knocking him onto the couch and punching him playfully. he’s fast to pin you down against the cushions of the couch. well, you sigh, at least you tried. you give up, trying to get out of his grasp when he leans down, pecking your lips. he pulls away with a small, smirking smile. you’re glaring playfully at him as he grabs your hands, pulling you off the couch.
“let’s assemble all this shit you bought.”
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orange-waterfalls · 3 years
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G-Bots (TM)
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Googleplier (x4) x viewer!reader
ty anon for the request!
A/N: Funny story! I am no longer physically capable of writing normally! I tried so hard to be normal and just veered off into SCP/Cryptid viewer territory because I like expanding on the idea that the viewer is Not Human! Anyways, you’re hanging out with the Googles. That is it. Nothing is wrong. You do not recognize the bodies in the water haha anyways I think I like went a little creepypasta-esque at the end there but it’s fine I think probably. It’s fine. Might be a little weird in terms of story, but i think this was more focused on world building to me. Probably seen as more platonic than romantic, but see it however you wish. Enjoy!
Word count: 2.5k
G-Bots (TM)
You wheezed just a bit as you sped through wherever-the-fuck you were. Sure, maybe that was a bad idea. Sure, Dark was a little bit threatening and SURE, you were supposed to be back by now, and the fact that you weren’t back with Mark trying to convince him NOT to split up was the tiniest bit problematic. You weren’t even sure this was a building? Were you in the void? Goddammit, not again…
You stopped, concluding that this was bullshit and you did not want to do it right now. You bent over, hands on your knees and took deep breaths. You stared into the emptiness for a bit, then looked around for a moment, just trying to figure things out. You needed to reassess. It was basically one big, long hallway with random twists and terms every few meters. You’d always end up back at the paintings of… them… and knew you’d gone too far. You did that over, and over, and over again. At this point you thought Dark had just forgotten about you. You took a deep breath in and let it out. You stood up straight and looked up at the paintings. You heard their voices echo through your head a bit. You squeezed your eyes shut and your head twitched.
“You’re alright… you’re ok… cool it…” You whispered to yourself. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Meditate. Think.
You looked on either side of the hall and, for the first time, you noticed doors extending down into the void and not stopping. You let out a breath. You felt a slight sense of dread. Something was telling you not to enter the rooms. Some little voice in the back of your head that sounded suspiciously like Mark. But, hey, what else were you gonna do?
“Ok… do i want to enter the door on the left or the door on the right?” You asked yourself. You paused to think about it. After a few seconds you felt yourself jerk forward a bit. Your brain felt staticy and you felt compelled to the left. You turned the knob and opened the door slightly. Immediately you heard music that might be in an SCP game, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like “do you recognize the bodies in the water?”. You were hoping no, and you bailed before you had a chance to look. You ended up almost exactly in your previous position in the hall. Your brain felt fuzzy again, and this time you gravitated to the right. You opened the door just a little, maybe to see what was inside, but again you heard the SCP ambiance.
But this time it was from behind you. So, like any smart person, you swung the door open, slammed it behind you and did your best to lock it. But there was no lock. So you stood. Waiting. Nothing happened.
Of course nothing happened. Why would anything happen? Dark wouldn’t want you to get hurt… probably. This was his domain. Probably. If you were alive, it’s because he wanted you to be. If you were in this room, it’s because he wanted you to be.
Speaking of: Where the hell were you?
You turned around to look behind you. In the blank white room there was a single grey couch with all 4 Google androids sitting on it. Apparently they were recharging, because they hadn’t noticed you standing there and also they were plugged into an outlet in the wall. You hadn’t considered that they had to physically plug into something to charge up, but the thought made you snort.
Bad idea.
All of their eyes snapped open at once, revealing the glow of their assigned colors. They all stood up and began walking towards you in unison. You felt a slight sense of dread. Even so, you tried to grab the doorknob, the one that apparently was no longer there, and cursed under your breath when you could only feel the smooth wall behind you. The androids stopped, staring at you. You cleared your throat.
“Hey…” you laughed nervously, “So, uh, funny story, actually-”
“You are not supposed to be here,” The original Googleplier, Blue, stated.
“Well, see, that’s where this whole thing started, um, see, Mark wanted to split up-”
“No human is allowed inside of this room, and not you, either.”
“Well-” You stopped, processing what he said, “Wait. ‘Either’? I’m human.”
“No, you’re not,” Google Green said. You wanted to be offended, but you were more confused.
“What do you mean? I’m human!” You argued.
“What color’s your hair?” Red asked with a mean smirk on his face. You opened your mouth to respond, and an amalgamate of voices saying “BROWNBLACKBLONDEWHITERED” came out. You slapped a hand over your mouth.
“... what the hell was that?” Your muffled voice whispered. Well, you thought it was probably yours.
“What’s your eye color?” BROWNGREENBLUEAMBERYELLOW exited your being before you could even try to answer.
“Do you have any pets?” That one just ended with a computer error sound from you.
“... huh.” You dropped your shoulders a little. The revelation probably should’ve upset you more.
“What are you doing here?”
“I… do not recognize the bodies in the water.” You explained.
“Ah, I see. Darkiplier would want you to not die, therefore you may stay.”
“Ha. Wow. Who knew the Googleplier androids-”
“G-Bots.”
“... what?”
“We are legally not allowed to use the name ‘Google’ anymore. We are now G-Bots.”
“... legally.”
“We were discontinued. And sold. And signed a contract.”
“So does that mean I can’t call you Google anymore?”
“No, that is simply my name. The name of us as androids, however, is now G-Bots.”
“Ok. What about them?” You pointed to the other three.
“Yellow is Oliver, Green is Lee, Red is Elliott.”
“And you’re just Google?”
“They’ve been trying to change my name to Gregor. I deeply dislike it.”
“It’s a good name.” Oliver suggested, smiling.
“Means vigilant.” Lee shrugged.
“Don’t be a pussy, Greg.” Elliott adopted a shit-eating grin as he leaned a little closer to Google.
“You can do… whatever you wish. Just do not be like them, DA.” Google instructed through gritted teeth.
The room began to shift color and expand. The couch was still grey in the center, but there were now four sections of each of the colors. The yellow section was filled with flowers, with a laptop on a desk next to a switch and a little Vector robot sitting by on the windowsill that showed a colorful meadow with bees buzzing to and fro. It glitched for a moment, so you knew the window wasn’t real. The green section had large houseplants and looked a bit like a greenhouse, and had an Xbox hooked up to a TV in the corner and seemed to have a view of a lake in the faux-window. The red section had miscellaneous wires and computer parts and lights here and there, looking like a fire hazard, and a PC on a table, while the window showed what appeared to be space. Google’s section was absolutely spotless, not a single thing anywhere, apart from a tiny skateboard next to a PS4 in the corner, and the window showed computer code.
“Wow.” You said. You might be stuck here for a while, so you might as well enjoy it.
Though you wondered who DA was. -- You hate to say it, but you had a favorite G Bot. It was kind of like having a favorite child, in your mind. You felt like they somehow knew that you had a favorite, but you didn’t know why.
Oliver was the sweetest by far, immediately going to make you as comfortable or entertained as possible while you were with him. He asked you if you wanted to watch something, if you wanted to play a game, if you were hungry, etc. It was kind of like going over to a friend’s house for the first time. He was enthusiastic to the point where he was shaking with anxiety over wanting to make you happy. You thought he didn’t get many visitors and maybe that was why. He showed you his flowers, and the bees, and a small painting in the corner, hoping for  validation. His glowing eyes seemed to dull when you moved on to the next section, but said you’d visit him again. That did help, but he turned away sadly and went to water his flowers.
Lee seemed as though he couldn’t care less if you were there. He told you where everything was and that you could do whatever. If you asked for help, he would stop what he was doing and help you. Once you understood, he immediately resumed his previous task. He was a bit cold, like Google, but in a “I am very busy but I am still here if you need me” sort of way. He played a game or two with you, having a preference for the puzzle games more than anything else. Puzzle horror, more specifically. If there was a shooting part, he immediately shoved the controller into your hands, saying he didn’t want to do that part. When you left, he simply continued with his work without a goodbye.
Elliott tried so hard to ignore you for the longest time. You could hear him scoff and growl anytime you made any sort of noise. You were self conscious at first, but you came to understand that he was just an asshole. You started on a game, playing for a few minutes, and felt the red couch sink next to you because he had sat down next to you. If he thought you sucked (which he did) he would snatch the controller from you and finish whatever you were doing before giving it back. He refused to say anything or help you, either. He’d just make rude noises and walk away occasionally before coming back. When you left, he seemed a lot angrier than he had before, and wouldn’t say goodbye to you. He turned away with a huff and started pressing random buttons on the controller.
Google was by far the least interested in anything you had to do. You sat on the couch next to him, and he didn’t move an inch. You sat there for a bit, waiting, but he did not move. You stood up, walked around, messed with a few things, attempted to play a game or two. Google didn’t move. You pulled up the Gamer ChairTM and sat directly in front of Google, arms crossed. You sighed. Finally, he looked up at you.
“Is there something you need?” He asked in that monotone voice of his.
“I’m bored,” you said.
“Go to one of the others,” He closed his eyes.
“What are you doing?” You asked, curious.
“That is not-” He sounded exasperated.
“Hey Google, what are you doing?” You interrupted like the little shit you were
“Currently, this G Bot system is recharging its battery. This G Bot is at: 69%.” He shifted to a purely robotic voice.
“Haha nice.”
“This G Bot’s primary objective is to answer questions as quickly as possible. Would you like to ask a question?”
“Yes. What do you like to do, Google?”
“I enjoy answering your questions. Do you have any more?”
“What company owns you?”
“G-Bots were recently sold by the Google company to Warfstache Incorporated.”
“Wilford has a company?”
“Warfstache Incorporated is co-owned by Wilford ‘Motherloving’ Warfstache and Damien-Dami-Da-Darkiplier.” He glitched while answering.
“Who’s Damie-”
“The Corporation owns shows such as ‘Markiplier TV’, ‘Warfstache Tonight!’, and ‘Hire My Ass’. Do you have any more questions?”
“Do you pass the Turing Test?”
“Wondering if you have to treat me with basic decency?” He shifted back to his less robotic, but still monotone, voice.
“No. Just wondering.”
Neither of you spoke again for a while. He did scold you when you tried to move the couch with him still on it, so… progress. -- You were beginning to suspect that Google didn’t like you very much.
The blue one. Google. The other ones liked you. Oliver ranted to you for a whole half hour about different kinds of bugs and the hierarchy of bees. The queen is assassinated when she is bad for the hive, it would seem. Lee made you play Resident Evil with him because he didn’t like the fighting, but he liked figuring out what to do. You frantically passed controllers back and forth a lot. Elliott basically did speedruns of several games, you watching intently the whole time. He seemed to like the attention and actually smiled at you whenever he finished one.
But Google didn’t like you. He ignored you, and told you not to touch anything, and scowled whenever you asked him personal questions. Not like “what’s your sexuality” type of personal questions. More like… “what’s your favorite color and why is it blue” sort of questions. He didn’t like them either way.
But the others liked you, and that was pretty neat.
You still wanted Google to like you though.
“Hey Google,” he perked up with the little “do-do!” noise, “Can you guys go into your different sections?”
“All G-Bots have the ability to pass into other’s color-coordinated sections,” He answered politely.
“Why don’t you?”
“We don’t want to.”
“Do you get along?”
“Yes.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“Celine dislikes when colors are mismatched.”
“Who’s-”
“I’m sorry, this G Bot needs to charge.”
“But you haven’t been-”
“This G Bot needs to charge.”
“Come on, if you--”
“This G Bot needs to charge.”
You quieted and plopped into the chair. You stared at Google. His eyes flickered for a moment before they closed. -- The other Bots knew who Celine and Damien were, they just weren’t telling you. Their eyes always flickered when you asked, but they wouldn’t tell you.
You threatened not to play with Lee anymore. He said he could play on his own. You could see that he didn’t want to. You played Alien: Isolation. His eyes seemed duller.
You threatened not to watch Elliott’s speedruns. He said he didn’t care. You could tell that he did. You watched him play Hollow Knight. His eyes seemed duller.
You threatened not to listen to Oliver’s rants. He looked terrified, but he said that was fine. You could tell it wasn’t. You begged him to tell you. He looked sad.
“Who’s Damien?” You asked softly, stepping towards him.
“I can’t tell you,” He shifted back.
“Who’s Celine?” You stepped forward.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Who’s DA?”
All of the G-Bots stopped what they were doing. You heard static and felt like you were being watched. -- You looked up at the color on the outside of the museum.
You were doing something. You were doing something.
Were you robbing this place? It felt like you were. What happened to Mark? What happened… to you?
You stared at the doors, feeling a slight sense of dread. Something in the back of your head was telling you this wasn’t right. To go home. To…
--
“Ignorance is Bliss. Try Again?”
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Text
Ml Theory: Origins of Emilies name and Mayuras design
While looking up the real life equivalent of Emilies portrait and its artist I came across something that is just WAY too good to be a mere coincidence.
As many fans know already Emilies golden portrait is in real life the painting “Adele Bloch-Bauer I” by Gustav Klimt from 1907.
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Its to this day the painting sold for the highest price EVER, making it a fitting portrait to visualize Gabriels love for Emilie I always thought. But there is quite more background information with potential to be important.
Back before we were given Emilies name in “Gorizilla” Adele was a very common name for her in the fandom because of the original golden Lady, Adele. Funnily enough, the idea that Emilies name is connected to her portrait has quite likely never been a wrong assumption in the first place. We just never went deep enough to find her actual name or a couple of other similarities for not only her but for Natalie as well.
Because as the names might have already given it away, Adele Bloch-Bauer and Gustav Klimt were not husband and wife. Adele was married to someone else and Gustav never married at all. So while this painting is one of Gustavs most well known and one of the most valuable paintings in the world, the lady in the painting wasn’t his wife/lover and therefore Emilies name also isn’t Adele.
But just because Gustav Klimt wasn’t married doesn’t it mean that there wasn’t a very special woman in his life, one he was incredibly close with.
So may I present to you:
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Emilie Flöge
Right away its obvious that both painting were done in the same eye catching style, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
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She was the almost life long and very dear life-partner and Muse of Gustav Klimt. Just like him she was austrian and she was a fashion designer/creator and business woman and the sister of Gustavs sister-in-law. From 1891 onward he drew/painted her several times and rumors even say that Gustav, on his most well known painting “Der Kuss (The kiss), eternalized him and her together as lovers.
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So if there is a name associated with the “Adele” portrait that were to be Emilies namesake it certainly was the right call to have it be the dear life-partner of the artist who is basically representing Gabriel in this. Emilie Flöge.
But digging even deeper into Gustav Klimts works one could even make the argument that another name in the show wasn’t as completely random either and apparently not lazy at all:
Amilie Graham de Vanily
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Because 7 years after finishing “Adele Bloch-Bauer I” he started painting another portrait called “Das Bildnis der Amalie Zuckerkandl (The Image of Amalie Zuckerkandl)”
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but it was never finished because… well… both he and Amalie died in that timeframe for reasons unrelated to each other so.. yeah. But still.
I do think this woman is the namesake for our Amilie de Vanily, not because of background information as with Emilie, its more that I can indeed imagine it very well that for Emilies sister Thomas Astruc and Team went back to the same artist they got her name from and looked for a fitting name. And since it’s a pair of twin sisters we are talking about here the name “Amalie” was probably just waaaaaay to good and convenient to pass on.
So Amalie became Amilie and our family Graham de Vanily twin sisters had their names.
But you know what? If I’m already at it, lets take this to another level and you all know what I'm about to point out.
Because the first thing I thought when I looked at the portrait of Emilie Flöge was a sober: "Yeah, so THAT looks like Mayura" 
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-Main color blue with pink highlights
-one piece of each outfit has white incorporated
-both have a "peacock tail". Mayuras is just part of her dress and Flöges is something like a big fancy collar (idk man)
-Hands gloveless
-necks covered. Natalie/Mayura wears a turtleneck and Flöges wears a scarf
-Flöges has dark hair like Natalie (not as dark but definitely closer to Natalies than Emilie Agrestes)
I do even have another reason why I think Mayuras design was inspired by the real life background of Emilie Agrestes golden portrait.
Not only does Miss Flöges blue dress with pink highlights explain why the peacocks signature color is blue combined with (FREAKING) pink even though that isn’t anywhere close to an accurate depiction of a real life peacock the way all the other Miraculous do (It bothered me to no end but now I can finally sleep again in peace) But would you believe it? One of Gustav Klimts last finished paintings shows a woman who is supposedly meant to visualize what he thought to be the epitome of beauty:
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Peacocks, fan, you get where I’m going here right?
And this would make sense, RIGHT? Emilie was the peacock miraculous holder before Natalie so Emilies namesake wearing an outfit resembling the peacock holder we know and the peacock in general combined with the symbols of what the artists thought to be beautiful should checkout, shouldn’t it?
Weeeeell yes but mostly no imo.
While it is true that Emilie was the blue peacock long before Natalie became Mayura, it doesn’t change the fact that we, the viewers, were trained to associate the direct complementary color with Emilie right from the start. Emilie for US is not blue, she’s the opposite of blue, she’s yellow like her portrait:
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So it is very unlikely in my opinion that the blue Mayura outfit would be used like that for Emilie as well. That’s just WAY to harsh of a color whiplash for a character only given to us (for now) through stoic visual representation and a couple of lines from her family. We have very little to directly associate Emilies character with so yeah, her color coding with yellow and white is way to important to just break like that.
Therefore I do think its safe to say that the Mayura outfit/colorscheme is meant to be primarily associated with Natalie, meaning if the team actually took inspiration from this portrait for the Mayura design even though its also the portrait they took the name of the lost WIFE from, I do think this is supposed to mean something.
Especially when you consider that the painting of the epitome of beauty woman is obviously hindu oriented. Which comes right back to Natalie because not only is her villain name MAYURA the name of the male peacock in hindu mythology (the female one is called Mayuri) a general oriental flair is also how her room is designed as we just saw in the New York special 
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So what does all of this mean now? I’ve thrown quite a lot at you and a lot is contradicting each other too much to get a clear picture right away. So lets bring a little order into all of this and translate how these informations properly with what we see in Miraculous.
I’ll break it down like this:
Adeles golden Portrait doesn’t show the actual lover of the artist. Although Adele was married the actual special woman in Gustav Klimts life was Emilie Flöge, his partner, friend and companion he may have been in love with.
Translating this for Miraculous would become this:
Emilies golden Portrait doesn’t show the actual lover of Gabriel Agreste. Although Emilie was married to him the actual special woman in Gabriels life was Natalie Sanccour, his partner, friend and companion he may be starting to fall in love with.
Meaning this for the usage of the real life portraits as references:
Yes they still choose the right name for Emilie. The lady on the golden portrait is neither lover nor wife hence why Emilie couldn’t be named Adele. Because even if Gabriel is now falling in love with Natalie its doesn’t change that before all of this started Emilie was indeed the special woman in his life, hence her namesake being Emilie Flöge.
But on the other hand Natalie/Mayura, Gabriels new love, we know from the very start and a lot better than Emilie, is the right person to give the design of the blue portrait. E. Flöge was life-partner, friend and companion to a single man, everything that Natalie is as well. So while all of these aspects also applied to Emilie Agreste in the past they are way more fittingly at home with Natalie in the narrative of the show.
Besides that I will continue to stand to my believe that once we get Emilie back things will not go the way Gabriel wanted. Too much has happened that is too unforgivable. So our Emilie is portrayed as the not-wife-lady in gold because once Emilie is back and finds out what a monster (of a father) Gabriel has become there will very quickly be no marriage between them anymore. 
Okay, that’s all I have but I just had a thought so I wanna say it for protocol that I called it:
I'm calling dips on Gabriel getting a portrait for Natalie in s4 that looks like the the blue one from Emilie Flöge.
Just saying, I'm calling dips
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zukump3 · 3 years
Text
fixated ✰ s. aizawa
aizawa takes interest after you, but he doesn’t really know how to go about it.
genre: fluff, some smut in the second part! fem!reader
warnings: two parter!! aizawa has a CRUSHHHH, he pins after you heavily, counselor!reader. zawa used to have a thing with ms joke, black!reader
a/n: this idea was super cute so i had to write it. i hope you guys like it!!
requested: yes!!
part 2 (coming soon)
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Aizawa has never been one for dating. Honestly, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had a relationship.
Back in high school, when he sat in the very desks his students sat in, he was often teased at by Mic about getting a partner. The hero tried to set him up on dates, give random people his number and all types of other methods, but Aizawa was just never interested. No one really caught his attention that way... until Fukukado came along.
She was everything he despised. She was loud, she talked too much, and she never took anything serious. But somehow she made her way into his cold heart and he indulged in her.
He enjoyed his time with her. Underneath all that goofiness she was a sweet woman who cared deeply for her job and her students. Aizawa felt emotions he had never felt with her, and was a bit peeved when they split. However, they remained friends. Since then, he hasn’t bothered dating with anyone.
“Have you seen the new counselor?!” Aizawa opened one eye to see Kaminari and Sero gushing as they entered the class. “She’s sooo hot. And she’s foreign!”
“Doesn’t she speak English and Japanese fluently though? She’s smart and attractive, jeez.” Sero huffed, and Aizawa furrowed his brow, zipping down his zipper on his yellow sleeping bag.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Miss L/N!” They both yelled, making Aizawa blink. “She’s our new counselor. She said parents were complaining that the students mental health wasn’t being cared about enough, so U.A hired her. She’s from America too.”
“America.” Aizawa groaned. He already had an image in his own eyes—a stereotypically one, but oh well. You probably had blonde hair and blue eyes. There was probably nothing special about you at all. His students weren’t as used to foreigners, so of course they would find you attractive.
Throughout the entire day he kept hearing his students chatter about you. About how kind you were, how pretty your voice sounded, how you looked so unique. He was getting peeved—why was everyone so hung up on you?
He carried the thought with him until the end of the day, when he headed down the hall to what seemed to be your room, just as you were leaving.
And—wow. He really understood why everyone was talking about you.
You weren’t blonde haired, blue eyed at all. Your hair was in a fluffy afro, like Mina’s but kinkier. You had the most supple brown skin and dark eyes that lit up when they caught his. His eyes widened a bit at just how radiating you seemed, your multi colored lips raising into a smile.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Aizawa! I’m L/N,” you spoke, your hand pushing out to shake his. He shook your hand silently, noting at how warm your palm was against his cold one. “I’ve heard a lot about you from your students!”
“You’ve met them?” he asked, voice deep with shock.
“Ahh, well, they kind of pranked me earlier,” you said sheepishly. “They came banging on my door and said there was a fire, and that I needed to leave as soon as I could. But then they said they were just joking when I was about to jump out my window,” you laughed, shaking your head. “They’re pretty goofy huh?”
Aizawa couldn’t help but note at how good your Japanese was. He knew English and Japanese were two different languages—you must’ve been pretty smart and hardworking to learn it.
“Well, I have to go do paperwork at my apartment-hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” you smiled once again. Aizawa only nodded and then you were off, with his eyes burning into your back.
His fists clenched. You were much more attractive than he originally imagined. But he wasn’t going to indulge—he knew that would only end badly.
Right?
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The next day, Aizawa heard the same chatter about you. And the next. And the next. He didn’t see you again until about a week later, when he saw you chatting with Midnight and Mic in the lunch line. He cringed—the two were notorious for gossiping and he really hoped they weren’t telling you anything stupid.
“And then I—aye yo, Zawa! Good afternoon! Have you met L/N?!” Mic screamed, and Aizawa’s eyes went to meet yours ago. Your hair was styled differently to the point where he could see your eyes better, and it framed your face so nicely. You waved at him and he smiled sheepishly.
“We were just talking about our high school days~” Midnight’s voice rang out. “American high school is reaaaally different from Japanese high school, according to L/N.”
“The students here are really well behaved, especially in Aizawa’s class,” you smiled at him. “You’re doing a damn good job with them. They’re some of the most charming students I’ve seen! The ones in American high school can be really rude and nasty... I haven’t experienced any of that here. It’s nice.”
Aizawa breathed shakily. Thank god his students weren’t embarrassing him.
“L/N here’s got a degree in psychology and all that mental stuff!” Mic yelled once again as you all moved down the lunch line. “She understands da brain! We really needed someone like her here, with all the breakdowns our students have!”
Aizawa huffed. Teachers, too.
“I’m here for everyone,” you spoke. “Students, teachers, even the Recovery Girl if she’s got a lot on her mind. I’m just here to help everybody as much as I can.”
“Aizawa needs some of that help fo sure!” Mic yelled, smiling so hard all of his long, white teeth showed. “Motherheffa never talks to anyone about his feelings, keeps em balled up! That’s not healthy!”
Aizawa’s ears turned red. “No, I don’t need-“
“I’ll help ya!” you offered, moving so your body was right next to his. He couldn’t help but inhale your scent—it was strong and sweet, something he’d never smelled before. “Don’t worry—whatever we discuss in my room stays in my room. It’s something I pledged to do when I became a therapist.”
Aizawa laughed nervously, shaking his head. “I really don’t-“
“It’s okay if you don’t wanna have a session immediately, no worries,” you shrugged. “But I’m here whenever you need me. I have more work to do later, but I’ll see you guys later!”
And then you were off, with Aizawa’s eyes still on your back.
“You’re staring pretty hard Aizawa,” Midnight raised perfectly done eyebrows. “She’s pretty—I would stare too.”
“Be quiet.” He spluttered, his ears still red as he made his way back to his classroom to eat.
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Another week had passed of Aizawa admiring you from afar. You always came into work with a smile on your face, greeting students with handshakes and hugs—the hugs threw him off a bit, but Kaminari told him it was an “American thing.” He didn’t know how much he would daydream about it until he started to long for hugs from you, thinking of how your arms would wrap around his middle before class.
He wasn’t obsessed with you, no, but rather infatuated. You were intelligent and easy to approach, and your appearance matched your personality. He was attracted to you but due to him not having a relationship in years and also not having the best social skills, he had no idea how to approach you. He didn’t even know much about you. His students knew you more than he did and you were his age! It made no sense.
Time after time during the third week of you being here he tried to talk to you. During lunch, when Midnight and Mic would force you all to sit together, he would want to open his mouth but he couldn’t. He’d come by your room to start conversations after school but the most he’d say was “have a good evening, L/N.” and leave you alone. He even found your social media and took a quick look through your pictures—leaving your page when he saw you in a bikini, his cheeks red.
By the time the fourth week came around, his students and his work buddies were noticing his changes in behavior. He was getting distracted much more than before and whenever someone would mention your name he’d go scarily silent and look deep in thought. It wasn’t until Mina chatted with the rest of the Bakusquad that his students actually began to do something about it.
“Miss L/N!” you heard Jirou’s voice rang out from your doorway, with some other students from Class 1-A coming in behind you. “Good evening~”
“Good evening Jirou! Hey everyone,” you smiled warmly at the students that were entering your classroom, confused as how many of them were coming in. “What’s up...?”
You had formed a pretty close relationship with the class of 1-A during your short time here. You had sessions with most of them and got to know their personalities and feelings pretty well—even Bakugo, who was closed up and rude at first, but eventually shed a few tears in your room.
“Mr. Aizawa said he needed your help with planning lessons today—he said he’s asked everyone else and they’re all busy,” Mina told you, and your brows furrowed in confusion. Aizawa needs help from... you? That was odd. “He needs you to come by as soon as possible!”
“Oh! Well, alright,” you laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck as you stood up and grabbed your phone. “Thanks for telling me—you all get to your dorms and don’t cause too much noise okay?”
You heard rings of “yes, miss l/n’s” as everyone left your room and you locked it behind you. You started to make your way to Aizawa’s classroom, your palms a little sweaty against your notebook. You hadn’t talked to Aizawa in a while and it was weird that he had requested your help, but you didn’t mind getting closer to him. Truthfully, he had been on your mind a lot the past few days—you found him pretty attractive despite his quiet demeanor. Although, you were a new teacher, and didn’t want to be involved with anyone too early in your school year.
Aizawa jumps a bit when he hears sudden loud knocks on your door, and sees your face come into view. “Good evening, Aizawa. You needed my help?”
“Huh?” Aizawa asked, his face twisted in confusion.
“Jirou and Mina came by and said you needed my help with lesson planning—I’m not the best with planning stuff to teach but I don’t mind offering my assistance,” you offered him your normal, gentle smile. “So where do we start?”
Mina and Jirou? Ugh. Of course they would tell you that.
“Um-um-well,” he stuttered, his face already starting to heat up. “I just need a new quirk training game... yeah. That’s why I need help with.” Fuck. He hoped that sounded believable.
“Okay!” you nodded, suddenly taking a seat that was in the corner of the room and sitting right. Next. To. Him. He had to clench his fists to keep his cool, not used to such an attractive woman being so close to him at all. “Where should we start?”
He spent two hours with you discussing new games to play with his students that would also train their quirks, and those were some of the best two hours of his life.
He so enjoyed the time he spent with you. You were so easygoing and natural to talk to—he didn’t feel awkward or nervous talking to you which is what he feared he would feel in the first place. He cracked more smiles with you in the span of two hours than he did the whole week.
“You can’t just make them play dodgeball with their quirks! They’ll get hurt!”
“We have a Recovery Girl for a reason.” Aizawa rolled his eyes, smirking at the glare he got from you.
“Still! You know some of them—Bakugo—are going to take out their anger on other students,” you huffed.
“But it’ll be fun to watch?”
You were quiet for a moment, but inevitably started smirking along with him. “...you’re right. It will be.”
Together, the both of you planned for Class 1-A dodgeball, with you and Aizawa as the referees. You two even planned to go by the outfits together—and now he was out at a sporting store with you, looking for a fucking black and white striped shirt. He couldn’t believe this.
“I’ve never worn one of these before—you think I’ll look cute in it?” you asked him, raising your eyebrows repeatedly and he couldn’t help but chuckle gently at your antics. “I’m serious!”
“I’m sure you will F/N,” he told you, not even noticing his slip up until a few moments later. “I—I meant-“
“So we’re on second base huhhhh? Don’t worry, I’ve accidentally called you Shota a few times to Mic and Midnight. I’m not used to calling people by their last names, we don’t do that in America.”
“You talk about me?” Aizawa couldn’t help but feel a little proud of the fact.
“What?! Of course not, no.” you quickly shook your head, and he grinned at the flustered look on your face. “The only thing I tell them about is how you need more sleep. Your brain doesn’t function correctly on a small amount of sleep.”
“My brain doesn’t function correctly at all.”
“Wrong. You’re pretty smart, Aizawa. Pretty understanding too,” you hummed, you two walking through the aisles so you could get whistles. “Your students are always telling me how much you care about them, even though you don’t show it. They really appreciate you you know?”
He was expressionless, but his heart did warm a little bit at your words. “I know.”
You two bought the items and soon enough you were back at the school. You got out of his car, sending him a wave and a quick goodbye before heading to your own car, and Aizawa let out the longest sigh of his life.
“Shit.”
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