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#it’s just that they want that fame for their own work and not hers oops
wavesoutbeingtossed · 3 months
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Because I know few people will see this and it’s getting late and the dash is crazy
Just a reminder that a certain someone (like someones in the past) also chose a public kind of life. To the supernova extreme that Taylor’s is, no, but this is the industry they chose as their vocation too, and this is the partner they chose to love from the outset.
Does that mean this someone deserves hate or harassment from her fans? No. Even if he had done something truly heinous which there is no indication of yet. But to also act as if he or any of her past partners are shrinking violets plucked out of obscurity as truly private citizens and her fame was a noose around their necks is completely disingenuous. These are not accountants or teachers or doctors who relinquished privacy upon meeting her. These are professionals in the entertainment industry who are seeking a level of public life to further their careers, in the sense that they have work in film and music and modeling and sponsorships and public appearances in service of those careers. Should commenters online be civil to any of these subjects when interacting with them? Absolutely. But let’s not pretend they haven’t chosen part of this life, and a certain public life would be an expectation of any they chose.
To act like Taylor’s dedication if not outright embracing of some of these aspects for her own career is a loaded gun is hurtful to her. (And to women in general in the industry.) I said this the other night, but Taylor has been mega-famous for over a decade; even if she were in a lull post-1989, that was still more attention than any human will ever experience in their lifetime. Choosing to jump into a relationship with her is an inherent acceptance of that, and forcing her hand in an effort to remove that — the intensity of which she for the most part has no control over — is unfair, and no wonder she’s pissed if it came down to that. I used an analogy that it’s like choosing to date someone with kids: they’re a package deal and by choosing them, you’re also accepting the full package. If you can’t handle it at that point of your life, the greatest kindness you can offer is to move on gracefully before everyone gets more hurt. Taylor’s life is no mystery in this respect, and choosing to date her but reject the core parts of what make her her — the appearances, the performances, the collaboration, the constant churn of projects to keep the creative juices flowing, etc. — truly could be death by a thousand cuts. Especially if for every inch she gave the person took a mile.
What I’m trying to say is: people shouldn’t be flooding these subjects’ social media accounts and dragging them, or harassing them on the street or whatnot. But, these are all grown ass men. Part of them (yes, even that one) want parts of this kind of life. If not, they would stick to plays in the west end or truly indie flicks, and not starring in leading roles in hyped tv shows or chasing after Hollywood movies with Oscar-darling directors. Or attending promotional events or participating in ad campaigns. They have agents and publicists and managers and all the trappings of celebrity. Everyone deserves their privacy absolutely, and I certainly sympathize with that level of intrusion because it seems unbearable to a dull normal like me. But, the parts that are a fundamental foundation of your career — performing, networking, supporting each other at events — shouldn’t be weaponized against Taylor because she’s at least honest about wanting it. We really don’t need to be protecting these men for the things Taylor is villainized for. These men may not admit it, but they chose to do the same kinds of events Taylor does, albeit on a much smaller scale.
I’m not saying it isn’t awkward that Taylor may be airing some dirty laundry in her upcoming music. But, for all we know, she may have reason to be pissed. And again: this isn’t new behaviour for Taylor. She’s always written music about her life. If someone isn’t comfortable with that from the outset, maybe they should have rethought their motivations. I don’t want to make assumptions, but thoughts are definitely thinking.
In short, stop babying men who choose this life to take down the women who embrace it.
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ladykailitha · 2 months
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Icarus Part 4
Oops! I didn't realize this one had so many chapters done. I had been using it as my "I'm stuck on the other two stories so I work on this one to clear my head" story and I currently have five chapters backlogged. So instead of Batshit Soulmates today, you're getting two of this one. One now and one tonight.
In this chapter we have Eddie doing his research and we find out how he recognized Steve. Also Jeff&Eddie besties for life!
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3
@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
****
The last few days in Hawkins went by in a blur. Eddie couldn’t do the research he wanted to, not without alerting everyone else what he was up to, so he focused on buying both their albums and listening to them nonstop.
“This that band you went to go see?” Wayne asked after three days of him having both albums on constant repeat. “The one you were whining about have to go to?”
Eddie sat up from where he laying on the floor with headphones on and took them off, resting them around his neck. He pulled one knee up and draped his arms around it casually.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Dustin has been gloating about it, so I would rather you didn’t add to the pile.”
Wayne crouched down so that they were eye level. “This about that secret you found out?”
Eddie opened his mouth to lie but Wayne just raised an eyebrow and he snapped his mouth shut with a click. He let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.
“Yeah,” he said, “it’s about that.”
Wayne picked up the vinyl sleeve and looked at the cover. He studied the image a moment or two before he said, “You think that someone you know is in the band, don’t you?”
Eddie bit his lower lip and then sighed heavily. He knew he couldn’t keep it from Wayne, but he had hoped he would have been back in Cali before he realized it.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” he said tilting his head back, “but yeah. I think I know someone in the band.”
“You jumping to conclusions?” Wayne asked in that gruff but gentle way that was a staple of Eddie’s childhood.
Eddie looked up at Wayne and then shook his head. “I don’t know enough. Not yet.”
Wayne got to his feet with a grunt. “Good. You keep it that way. There’s probably a good reason for all that.” He waved at the vinyl sleeve. “So don’t you go pushing your friend’s buttons until you know that reason.”
Eddie nodded. “I read you loud and clear.”
Wayne ruffled Eddie’s hair and walked away, leaving Eddie with plenty of time to think.
****
Dustin was staying in Hawkins for the whole summer, so when Eddie left, he was finally on his own.
Finally able to get out of his head and do some real research. He also knew better than to do anything than listen to his own music mid-flight. Too many wandering eyes.
Any one of his fellow passengers could be some blogger, Youtuber, Tiktoker, influencer or actual fucking press.
Thankfully the flight was most empty and short.
He was met at the airport by his manager Chrissy Cunningham.
She grabbed his bag, leaving Eddie to juggle his guitar better.
“Record management has all four of you in a hotel nearby,” she told him as she stowed the bag in her trunk. “They want you sequestered this time.”
Eddie winced. It wasn’t for any music related reason, though he didn’t doubt the sequestering would help with the process.
Nope.
It was because last time Gareth and Brian went on a three day drinking bender and were too sloshed to function for at least two days after that. Almost a whole week of recording down the drain because half the band went off the rails.
“Roger that!” Eddie said with a jaunty two fingered salute.
“You can have alcohol sent to your room,” she continued as they got into the car. “But Gareth and Brian aren’t allowed. So if you share your stash, that’s on you.”
“You can count on me and Jeff not contribute to the delinquency of our bandmates,” Eddie bit out. “We were just as pissed as the label when we couldn’t get a hold of them for those five days.”
Chrissy nodded. “Fame can really do some fucked up shit to people.”
Eddie hummed his acknowledgment. “Just please tell me I’m not sharing with anyone. You know they all hate sleeping in the same room as me.”
Chrissy snorted. “Only because you stay up all hours of the night perfecting song, while they actually want to, oh I don’t know...sleep?”
Eddie cackled. He was the world’s worst insomniac when they were working on an album. The rest of the time he was a sound sleeper.
“But no,” Chrissy hummed, “you all have your own suites. With Brian and Gareth on opposite sides of the hotel so they don’t fuel each other’s vices.”
Eddie let out a deep sigh. “That’s great news.”
They went up to Eddie’s suite and he immediately got to unpacking. He couldn’t stand living out of his suitcase and didn’t know how anyone else could.
He ordered a couple of six packs of beer, his favorite vodka, and a couple of whiskys that should last him at least a couple of weeks. He stashed the beer in the suite provided mini-fridge and settled down to watch Youtube on the big screen TV.
He was just devouring everything he could on The Fallen. He started with their music videos. The one for “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls” was especially sweet. He found out that the lead singer was bisexual and that the song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary peeps despite the title.
But the videos weren’t helpful. The band themselves were rarely in them. So Eddie turned to interviews. Impromptu ones on red carpets and podcasts, as well as sit down interviews for talk shows and entertainment press.
Again the lead singer was charismatic and charming. And it was looking more and more like his theory was correct.
Then he came across the interview.
“How does Azrael see out of his mask?” the Vanity Fair interviewer asked.
The drummer pulled out another mask and handed it to Abbadon. It seemed like it was part of the shtick that the drummer never spoke.
Abbadon held up the mask to the light. “You can see that the eyes are a mesh-like material. It works like a one way mirror. You with the strong light, can’t see in, but Azrael with darkness of the mask can see out.”
Eddie hummed his interest. That was a cool trick. It meant that the drummer wouldn’t get hurt while still maintaining that anonymity.
And it appeared that the interview thought the same as they nodded along, impressed.
“What is the reason for the masks?”
Astraeus leaned forward into the mic. “Because when we first got started no one would take us seriously as ourselves?”
Just then the hotel door swung open and Eddie quickly pressed pause. He sighed with relief when he saw it was Jeff.
Jeff stopped in his tracks to stare at the screen. “Oh hey, The Fallen. They’re pretty cool.”
Eddie whipped his head around and glared at him.
“How do you know about them and I didn’t?”
Jeff laughed. “Dude, the radio embargo was you thing, not an everyone thing. They’re really good. I love their new single ‘You’. It’s really sweet.”
Eddie nodded, it was really good. It was one was of his favorites, too.
Jeff got closer to the TV. “Wait. Is this the ‘metal fans would hate us if they saw who we really are’ interview?”
Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”
“That’s such bullshit,” Jeff scoffed. “Metal fans are the most welcoming group of fans out there.”
Eddie chewed on his bottom lip and thought about Steve. And how preppy he still dressed even this far outside of high school.
“Not if they were preps,” he said softly.
That brought Jeff up short. “What now?”
“I think Abbadon is Steve.”
Jeff started laughing and laughing like he couldn’t stop. Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled up the picture he had taken of The Fallen’s lead singer. Once Jeff had gotten control of himself, Eddie showed him the picture.
“Okay...” Jeff said. “I’m not sure what this shows other than your obsession with necks.”
“Zoom in.”
Jeff rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Okay, so what am I looking at?”
Eddie licked his lips nervously. “You see those two moles, just under his chin?”
Jeff half shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”
“Steve has moles in the exact same place,” Eddie explained. He took the phone back from Jeff and went through his IG feed. He pulled up a picture of Steve. The angle wasn’t exact, but it was close enough.
He handed it back to Jeff. “Now zoom in on the neck.”
Jeff did as he was told.
“Holy fucking shit!”
Eddie pursed his lips and chewed on the bottom one. He played with his rings and was just fidgeting.
“Dude!” Jeff cried. “We should tell someone!”
Just then Eddie’s fidgeting hit the remote and the video began playing again.
“Is there any chance of a future reveal?” the interviewer asked.
Asmodeus leaned into the mic and said, “Ask us again in ten years when we’re world famous.”
Eddie managed to get a hold of the remote to pause it again and in the resulting silence Jeff and him shared a glance.
“Fuck, dude,” Jeff said. “We can’t say shit, can we?”
Eddie shook his head. “It would be like outing a queer person before they were ready.”
Jeff came around the sofa and flopped down next to him.
“Wow,” he said with more than a little awe. “So Steve Harrington is in a metal band...” He let out a shuddering sigh. “And is good. Not just good, but damn good.”
Eddie nodded. “Is it bad that I kinda feel like I’ve been tricked?”
Jeff let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but if no one knows, that it’s not personal.”
“You mean to tell me that no one knows?” Eddie hissed, getting to feet. “Not Robin, not Dustin? Or any of the kids? Because I call bullshit!”
Jeff looked up at him. “Robin, maybe. Those two are attached at the hip. Hell, Robin could even be their slinky and sexy manager, Celeste. But Dustin, man? I wouldn’t tell that kid shit. Not if I wanted it to still be secret ten minutes later.”
Eddie fought to calm his breathing. Yeah okay. That tracked. Robin with makeup and a black wig would completely disguise her to the point that not even her own mother would recognize her if they passed on the street.
“Dustin wouldn’t–” he began but Jeff cut him off.
“This is the kid that spoiled Will’s surprise party that he was planning,” Jeff said, counting off on his fingers. “The kid that would go searching through his mom’s closets and under her bed looking for birthday and Christmas presents. The same one that announced our second album six hours before it was set to drop. I wouldn’t tell Dustin Henderson the time of day if I didn’t want everyone to know about it.”
Eddie huffed. He wanted to argue that all that was little shit. Not really that important. But then he remembered all the times where Dustin would say something out of context, something that all his friends would jump on him for, only for it to be revealed later that Dustin had spoiled some surprise. It was just that no one had realized it at the time.
This time he let out a long sigh.
“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, sitting back down next to Jeff on the sofa. “And I know that if Steve had come to me and said he wanted to form a metal band, I would have laughed in his face.”
Jeff gave his knee a squeeze. “We all would have. So let’s do what we do best. We change the culture. We make the metal scene open to people of all walks of life, not just the freaks and outcasts. We make it safe for them to come out.”
Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. I could do that. We could do that.”
“Good,” Jeff said, patting Eddie’s knee. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’ve never liked easy.”
Eddie laughed as Jeff got up. “So what are you doing in my room anyway? Don’t you have your own?”
Jeff opened the mini fridge and took out a can of beer. “I forgot to order beer and I hate it warm, so I thought I’d steal one of yours.”
Eddie threw a throw pillow at him, which Jeff deftly caught and lobbed back at him.
Jeff came over and kissed his cheek. “Get out of your head and do something with all that restless energy you’ve built up with this eating away at you.”
Eddie let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, man. Thanks.”
Just as Jeff reached the door, he called out. “What would you and the boys think about inviting them to open for us on our next tour?”
Jeff grinned. “They would probably kiss you on the mouth.”
Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”
****
Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
Tag List: @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @papergrenade @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot
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dxy-drxxm · 8 months
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SYNOPSIS: Lyney never feared the sight of the tank, but his "Father" changed that for him. (gen. neutral reader) [ IDENTITYV AU ]
CW/s: Drowning (or almost drowning), ooc Lyney? (he's shaken up oops), depiction of Knave! Lyney/Harbinger! Lyney, near death scenario, reader gets hurt in helping survivor! Lyney (part 2 of 3)
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The familiar thumping of one's heart was something Lyney is quite used to. To him, as a magician, he would only have those when performing tricks that are impossible— only for them to work as the audience began to shower him with praise.
As an illusionist, he knew well that miracles are akin to magic tricks. That is what he was raised to believe, but outside of his job, there are things far more cruel than he may say.
So when he felt himself getting dunked into the tank his sister used in one of their shows, he felt the air leave him as he was put inside.
He banged on the glass as he saw his Father? leave, the illusion fading into a sight he can discern. He thought it was her?, but the familiar coat and attire betrayed his expectation.
It was… Himself?
… As the Knave.
He felt his eyes widened. Was this suppose to be him?
If Father gets replaced or dies, will he become like this?
The hunter turned his head to see the stunned illusionist, water pouring down to fill up the tank. And for a sheer glance alone, he could see him mouth the following words that shocked his core.
And then, he left.
His siblings are far from where he was chaired. And Heaven forbid will he let them rescue him like this.
The water is filling up to his knees.
Was this the end? He couldn't tell anymore.
After all, he knew he can turn the fates in his favor. He knew that, he was a magician! And by God will he just stop because he's stuck in a water tank!
As he felt his legs grow damp, he began to do anything in his power to get out. He tried to push the lid, perhaps use his own tricks to disappear from the tank.
He wanted to get out of this blasted tank. He was growing desperate.
At times like these, he wished he had his vision on his person.
But alas, no such luck.
His efforts rendered futile, and his desperation gnawed at him alive.
...
It's rising to his waist.
...
He wanted to crumble.
He couldn't hear the faint calling of a familiar voice— and a yelp from the hit by the grim-malkin cat. The one he had from his tricks.
He can vaguely recall how some of his tricks failed. How he and Lynette endured to get a sliver of fame, to even get a chance to perform.
This was one of those times.
He knew this moment awfully well. And the familiar despair began to get to his head.
...
It's rising to his chest.
...
Was this it? Is this the end of the road?
It can't be. I can't die here. I can't.
I can't stop here— why can't I do something? Why is there no exits here?
I can't simply drown in this tank and disappear. I don't want to disappear!
No, no, no—
Please, I need to see my sister again. I need to see my siblings again.
I refuse to sit here, and yet...
... I don't know what to do.
Can I even escape from this glass prison?
Can I escape the same prison I've been destined to be trapped in?
...
Then, it rises to his neck.
...
The seal of the tank opens.
Two hands grabs him, and with one full swoop, the playwright pulls the illusionist out as a way to rescue him.
Lyney was stunned when he felt the water leave him, and albeit he is dripping, he could smell the scent of parchment and ashes.
(Name).
"Are you okay, Lyney?" he heard them asked, watching as the tank closes but the water level remains the same. "Here," they added, handing him a syringe that they retrieved from the chests.
Am I okay?
"Come on, let's go—"
They yelped and went down as the hunter— himself— loomed over them, sighing.
"Oh, my dear poupée, you should've learned not to turn your back on a hunter!" his hunter identity said, but the playwright turned to wince and glare at him.
"Hah— and you should learn not to be so cocky."
Then, the sirens blared. And detention got ahold of the Knave.
With adrenaline, they shoved the now coherent illusionist.
"Run!" you yelled, grabbing his wrist and pulling him with them out of the big tent. "Detention will last in 2 minutes— and we'll both die if we get caught by him!"
And as soon as the two of you fled, the survivors could hear the ever familiar yet chilling laugh as the Knave is in pursuit of his showstopper.
No man will be left alive.
Not on his watch.
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@.enxgmx-wrxtxr | do not republish, repost, or copy my works anywhere | 2023
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thisdorkyblogthing · 3 months
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Hi! I adore your blog and was wondering if you had some headcanons for Thor or Loki you would like to share or any AUs? :3
😊
Thank you!! And I definitely have some AU ideas:
(listed in no particular order)
Kidnapping AU 1:
Loki's a troubled popstar and Thor's his long time stalker/#1 fan/kidnapper
Loki started rising to fame from youtube as a teen and got scooped up out of his shitty home life by a Big Name Producer (Ihe Grandmaster) and they totally started their loooong on again/off again relationship as soon as Loki turned 18 and not a moment sooner
Loki also started to develop problems with drugs an alcohol, which I'm sure has nothing to do with the last point
Around the same time Loki's becoming popular on youtube, a troubled, teenaged Thor comes across one of his videos and an obsession is born
Thor, having decided that he needs to be Loki's protector, joins the military and does surprisingly well for like ~10 years
as long as no one EVER makes any jabs about his taste in music, lighthearted or otherwise
Thor's discharged when a higher up makes a joke about some of Thor's Loki paraphernalia and Violence Happens)
hey! at least Thor has a lot more free time to REALLY get in to stalking Loki!
which is really great timing bc he senses that Loki's gonna relapse again - with The Grandmaster's help.... and thinks he might have more planned... (and maybe he's right)
so he takes matters into his own stong, beefy hands
Oh No, My Roommate's Little Brother Is Hot:
Thor and Helblindi are friends that have been living together since the start of their junior year in college, and are getting ready for their senior year
Loki's just graduated highschool and is getting ready to start at the same school in the fall and wants to stay with them over the summer so he can have a head start on getting settled in
Helblindi has been de-hyping Loki to Thor HARD, so he expects some ugly gawky little dork to show up
except OOPS HE'S ACTUALLY HE'S BEAUTIFUL, and a bit of a gawky dork, but in a very cute way
which is a problem because he's never actually mentioned that he's bisexual to Helblindi and Bro Code probably dictates to not lust over your bro's lil bro
even when the lil bro in question starts flirting with you
(Loki thought he was having a witty banter with a chill straight guy until he realized Thor was, in fact, not straight at all, and he was actually just flirting with a hot guy oops)
Helblindi finds himself a girlfriend and keeps bringing her over for ~sleepovers~ and she's uh, a bit loud about it so Thor and Loki end up going on cute little late night adventures that aren't romantic at all and don't result in any kisses under the moonlight
more moonlight kisses may or may not happen, resulting in a secret 'I think we're boyfriends?' scenario until Helblindi catches them and is NOT pleased with Thor's blatant disregard of the Bro Code
Kidnapping AU 2:
Loki's the black sheep of his of his very wealthy and powerful family. He's gotten into trouble a few times in the past and went to art school instead of getting into law or business or something more useful to them
so like, he gets that he's not the favorite but they still love him, right? (....... RIGHT??)
and then a couple nights before one of his brothers is set to get married, while out on the town for the bachelor party, Loki steps out of the club they're in for some air and to get a break from being either getting relentlessly shit on and iced out by everyone in turns when he's suddenly snatched up and manhandled away by some big surfer looking dude.
said surfer dude is Thor- an environmental activist whose name is featured on many top 10 lists for his favorite hobby of 'destroying shit to save nature' and he was good enough at it that the government definitely thought he was working in a group for a while there. He's a winner and his mom is very proud (maybe, they probably haven't talked in a while, he's busy.)
He thinks kidnapping Loki is going to be a great way to get his demands heard, unfortunately, he didn't seem to realize that Loki was the spare son and that the family is in no rush to get him back and seems more than a little annoyed about the fact that Loki had to go and be so damned kidnappable
"Wow, that's so fucked up dude." -Thor probably.
Loki's so heartbroken and enraged that he's ready to firebomb that gaudy-ass wedding himself
There's more but I'll stop there bc I'm Tired and this is getting long as hell.
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anxhoredheart · 4 months
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( scott speedman, cisman, he / him ) — 🎬 just announced, mason townsend has been cast as clay morrow in the upcoming sons of anarchy reboot. the forty six year old is trending as people are debating if the trying to find amends in the bottom of a bottle, losing the star shine in a sea of forgotten faces, a deeply rooted passion that begs to take flight, braving new worlds long cast aside, worn flannel and designer denim and a smile that can charm that they are known for is enough to make them as good as original. a quick google search shows that their fans call them outgoing, but internet trolls think they’re more obsessive. i guess their newest interview for variety where they talk about their shocking return to acting after his indefinite hiatus will let people to know them better.
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basics:
tw: drug/alcohol problem mentions
this is under co.
traits: reckless, romantic, flirtatious, charming, flaky, inconsistent, selfish, forgetful, addictive, intense, generous, hopeful, clever, sarcastic, insecure, earnest, independent, patient.
relationship status: it's complicated, but he's a flirt, so buckle up.
sexuality: heterosexual, unless on mdma.
religion: fuck it.
date of birth:  february 2nd.
zodiac sign: aquarius.
skills & hobbies: socializing/schmoozing, drinking (day or night, oops), memorization, romantic movies, arguing, video games (retro ones, mainly), acting, watching movies, binging netflix shows, spending time with others, meeting new people, flirting, marketing.
dislikes & fears:
quirks: romance flicks make him cry. he loves the smell of fresh paint.
fun fact:
pets: none currently.
family: not necessarily in contact anymore.
credits: that 70s show (michael kelso), in the land of women (carter webb), and a few indie thriller flops no one remembers.
backstory:
tw: drinking, alcoholism, addiction
it was a cookie-cutter, white-picket fence life for middle-class mason towndsend, growing up in a close-knit community in connecticut, close enough to nyc that he felt connected to the world. he wasn't left to want for much, though due to being the middle sibling, mason was most frequently left to his own devices && sources of entertainment.
this entailed a lot ruckus, and he was an athletic, happy-going child with a flare for the dramatics. he was well-liked, and extremely popular throughout highschool, and preferred to be surrounded by people. it was evident, very quickly, he was girl crazy, and had a handful of girlfriends throughout his high school years.
after graduating (barely making it to the ceremony, having been out partying the night before and barely passing with a low grade average), mason jetted off to california, and started sleeping on couches && scamming cash when he could to pursue a dream of acting.
it took some work, but in only two whirlwind years, mason had landed his break-out role as michael kelso in that 70s show at just twenty years old. while this was a genuine dream come true, and mason was over the moon to "stick it to his family", who had always doubted him (especially good old pops), in the end, it was never his acting role that changed his life thanks to the show.
it was rose, his co-star who played jackie. as the show progressed, and they grew closer, mason fell head over heels in love with her, moreso than his long, complicated, overlapping string of girlfriends && flings before. for him, there was only rose.
then he starred in a rom-com, gaining more traction in his fame as a hollywood heartthrob. there were parties, there were interviews... then things slowed. no one sent scripts, or if they did, they cast other actors. fights with rose started, whose trajectory went only upwards. she shone, and he continued to dull in the spotlight.
he turned to drinking, and within years, a couple of failed thrilled indie films that were massive flops (if they even made it to box office) and his agent quit, claiming his career as dead.
mason went overboard, and things with rose disintegrated, as he found himself more and more miserable out of the spotlight. things soured worse with his family, friends abandoned him, and mason avoided press like the plague, eventually falling out of sight... and out of mind.
his life was a dark time for awhile. rose continued to glow, so he stopped watching tv. there were a couple of health scares, and eventually, mason couldn't recognize the man he was in the mirror anymore. when he made the decision to hire an agent, in the middle of the nostalgic revolution, watching all these other formerly silent stars come back... he felt hope again, for the first time ever, but he'd changed. mason was no longer going to be recieved as michael kelso, as he once had been. but his new agent promised this was a GOOD thing, and now, mason could be anyone.
he chose to be rose's on-screen husband, clawing his way to get there, going as far as to lie, cheat, and sabotage the competition, and snatching the role after it was officially cast as someone else. now, he's made it back to the spotlight, and he's got big plans on what to do with it.
wanted connections:
cast mates: self-explanatory! some may be bothered or suspicious how he got the role, or have been fans of that 70s show in the past and remember him?
former friends in the industry: anyone he knew before going dark && disappearing for years! so like, probably 2012/2013 was the last major contact together.
someone he slept with/casually dated during his indefinite hiatus: he'd have them sworn to secrecy by now, and probably avoids them/is embarrassed now, to have them know what he was like at his lowest. he wants to rebrand and rebuild - this will be awkward.
any other "burnout" stars returning: anyone who will accept/understand/support/encourage mason, or especially those who will relate to his struggles with drinking, failure, etc.
"sobriety" buddies: even tho mason will break his a few times...
taken connections:
his ex: rose, co-star on soa, and love of his life.
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dontfeeltoohot · 2 years
Note
Your famous Eddie fic was so great! Can I ask for a a follow up one with him having allergies during an interview?
This got...longer than intended. His allergies are BAD in the fall. Oops. Was I inspired by that one JQ interview where he was basically crying? Absolutely. Enjoy!
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The need for allergy meds hadn't crossed his mind when he was packing for Corroded Coffin's three day trip to NYC to get some photos taken and do a few interviews. He's regretting it now, as he walks into Buzzfeed's large building, listening to his bandmates, Zack in tow.
His nose is already itching and stuffy, and his eyes are starting to feel irritated. Half of him wants to ask his friend and bodyguard to run down to the closest place and pick him up some Claritin, but decides it's not worth the hassle.
It's quick work of getting the guys signed in and sat in four chairs, two in front of the other as they wait, cameras pointing at them, lights shining down. Sniffling, Eddie runs his knuckles against his nose, as everyone checks the sound equipment over.
"Dude, you sure you're good?" Jeff asks, eyeing Eddie with a hint of worry.
"Yeah, just allergies," he shrugs off.
The guitarist is semi-good at remembering meds, but it doesn't mean they always work. It's become almost a running joke with the fans of keeping count of Eddie's sneezes.
Gareth snorts, looking at Tim with a smirk.
"Ten dollars he can't get through the interview without sneezing at least six times."
"I'll take it, Eddie's pretty good at controlling himself when he needs to. Remember that one photoshoot with all the flowers?"
"I'll get in on the bet," Jeff laughs, making Eddie narrow his eyes at them, flipping them the bird.
Four minutes later, a girl no older than the lead guitarists own twenty eight years of age is walking out and sitting with them. They all shake her hand and say hello, there's a pause, and then they start shooting.
They talk about their most recent shows- a small six city tour that had them seeing the most fans and turnouts yet. As they joke and tell little anecdotes, Eddie sniffles and tries to focus on the woman; Illiana, and her questions.
"So Eddie, you've been teasing about a new upcoming album for Corroded Coffin, but do you have anything in the works as a solo artist?"
"Nah, I mean, I've recorded a few things at home that aren't as hardcore and stuff, but Corroded Coffin is where I'm meant to be," he gives Illiana a smile. Jeff snorts, shaking his head.
"The day he does a solo album is the day this band breaks up."
"Loyalty is good," she nods, then looks back to Eddie. "But just know you have a following of fans who'd love to hear something a little more mellow," she laughs, and Eddie chuckles.
"Maybe one day."
"Speaking of having a following, lets talk about you and your boyfriend Steve. You guys seem to be taking over TikTok with your little dance videos and Twitch with all of your streams. Everyone seems to notice just how much happier you are the past couple of years."
Eddie nods, rolling his eyes fondly. It's true that Steve's gained some spotlight now, especially since he's started posting videos of he and Eddie doing silly dances and pranks to each other. It's a stark contrast from him and Jeremy, who wanted nothing to do with the fame, going as far as to make Eddie stay in for days at a time.
He goes to reply, rubbing at his nose again, a tickle winding its way through his sinuses.
"Yeah, yeah, Steve is great, he and Robin; his best friend, kind of roped me into learning one dance, and it ended up becoming a thing, since I can't dance to save my life," Eddie nods, sniffling wetly. He rubs the heel of his hand against his eye quickly.
"From what I've seen, you don't seem to bad!"
"You don't have to be nice, trust us, he sucks," Tim chimes in, making everyone laugh.
"Yeah, as kind as that it, it's absoluhhte b.s," he laughs kindly, scrunching his nose up.
The tickle doesn't recede, and as Gareth talks about his own girlfriend, Eddie turns to his right; where no one else is, and raises the neck of his black and white striped tee over his face, eyes fluttering shut.
"hih-GKtSCHuhew! ah'IKSCHhhEW! S-Sohh-IGKschEW! Sorry," Eddie sniffles and wipes his face before turning to face the woman again, rubbing his eye.
The other bandmates snicker, and Gareth mumbles 'that's three', earning a kick to his foot.
"Bless you! Now I have a few questions sent in from fans," she grabs a few cards from her lap.
It's not their favorite thing, since some fans can be a lot and vaguely intrusive, but since they've been hand picked, the guys know they can't be that awful. Eddie's already struggling against another all consuming tickle. He can feel it throughout his sinuses and nose, even the tip feels irritated. His nostrils twitch and he presses his fist tightly against them, but it doesn't help. He leans away again, brings his shirt back up.
"hh! ah'IKtSHuhEW! ihHTSHhuh!"
The long haired man turns back to apologize but turns quickly again, this time unable to pull his collar up, instead blocking his face with bent elbow.
"hih-IhKGshh'uhEW! iiKSHuhEW! Christ, sorry, my allergies have been shit the past few days," Eddie sniffles, wiping his eyes that have started becoming increasingly more teary and red.
Illiana laughs and brushes it off, continuing on.
"'CoffinCorrupter1784' asks- who in the band is the most likely to ghost everyone else?"
The four look at each other before Tim, Gareth and Eddie all turn to Jeff, who looks scandalized before laughing.
"Yeah, yeah, guess they're right."
Eddie sniffles and rubs the heel of his hand into his right eye, a few allergic tears falling and wetting his cheek as he pokes his tongue out and scrunches his nose.
"'annietheweird' asks: Do you guys pull pranks on each other during practices too? Or just during tours?"
"Oh, we definitely pull pranks whenever we get the chance," Gareth snorts. "We're all pretty g-"
"ihNGXT-tKSCHhh! h'TSHh'uhEW! hah'IHTshhEW! "
"-ood- dude shut up- about being sneaky when it comes to them," the drummer finishes, only faux-annoyed at the other man.
"Usually it's me and Jeff against Gareth and Eddie," Tim explains, nodding along. "We managed to switch their shampoo out for red hair dye a few months ago, but unfortunately it didn't really take well."
"Really? And you guys weren't mad?"
"Nah, it was jus-snf! just fuhn'd a'd ga'bes," Eddie's eyelashes are wet, and he swipes at his face.
"Are you up for a couple more questions?" It's directed at the eldest of the four, who nods, clearing his throat.
"Yeah, sorry," he gives a tight lipped half smile.
"Jeez dude, get yourself together," Jeff teases lightheartedly.
"The fans are going to have a field da-"
"hhH'KiHtSHuhEW!"
"Dude..."
"hAH'TSHHuhew!"
"Jesus Munson!"
"ahHGihKTSCH! Ugh, snfSNF! Fugck, okay, mbight ndeed a breagk," Eddie keeps the neck of his short covering half of his face. This last one had been messier than intended, and damn he needs a tissue.
Zack is suddenly there, holding out a tissue box. He snatches a few up and keeps himself turned to blow his nose, everyone around him wincing at how thick it sounds. After another blow, Eddie grabs a new tissue and wipes at his face.
"Welp, at least we get our ten dollars," Gareth smirks at Jeff.
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dagursb1tch · 5 months
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also another random thought i had about tnr while i was watching the finale episode. i wondered how different it would be if the humans and the dragons actually decided to keep living together instead of it basically having the same outcome as in the 3rd movie, where they separated and took on their own separate lives? ( this post became long asf so im just gonna put it under a cut oop, & it also contains spoilers for tnr s8!! )
lemme explain — when httyd 3 came out, i remember that there were (and still are) a lot of disagreements with its ending since the whole message of the franchise seemed to be about two different species living in harmony and working together especially after their centuries-long history of being enemies, and a lot of fans voiced that the ending of the 3rd movie kind of betrayed that message. of course, the franchise's argument was that it wasn't safe for the dragons and the humans to be together because there will always be greedy humans out there to harm the dragons — in the context of the show, sledkin's and buzzsaw's "arcs" (if you can even call them that) were sort of modern reflections of that danger that could come to the dragons with their existence being public knowledge. of course, we can see this throughout the original franchise as well, from viggo and ryker to drago and grimmel and their respective allies and armies.
basically what i'm trying to get at here is if this series decided to take an alternate route and have the dragons and the humans live in harmony together instead of separating (again), would that have been a chance to "undo" the 3rd movie's "mistakes"? or was it better for the series to go the more "traditional" route and take after the 3rd movie, expressing that even after over 1000 years of humans and dragons living apart, it's simply not safe for the humans and dragons to live together because of the loss of the secrets of the dragons, for the world not knowing about them and in turn not knowing how to take care of them and protect them from the evil of some humans? (of course, i'm putting everything in quotes here because i am attempting to describe everything from a non-objective standpoint, including opinions about the 3rd movie in particular which i am still grappling to come to any conclusions with for myself.)
my views retain a considerable separation between the original franchise and this show, mostly because, in this series in particular, we have. ahem. capitalism. particularly the really nasty late stage "i'm gonna control every aspect of your life" capitalism. as many of us may know, many capitalists will stop at nothing to procure their earnings, even if it means exploiting living beings for their profits and developments. sledkin's whole "arc" was a demonstration of this, her desire for fame and money and profit leading to an eventual disregard for the well-being of the subjects she was studying — and eventually using — to get her fame and her profit. her lack of ethics in her practice shows just how much she was influenced by this system, and in turn caused her to develop a disregard for the well-being of the dragons, the subjects of her study (besides the dragonsite ofc). to me, it kind of demonstrated how these systems make the ethics within scientific research very difficult. like sledkin, if you only care about the money, it's likely that you probably don't care about the safety and well-being of the subjects you're studying. which in a sense, is also a reflection of the villains of the original franchise — they wanted something so badly that they didn't care who they hurt in order to get it.
anyways i didn't mean for this to turn into a whole fucking essay, just a post for me to explore my thoughts about this show now that it's finally ended. and idk to those who bothered to watch this last season what are y'all's thoughts??? lol
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jimmyjrsmusoems · 1 year
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bob’s burgers characters as songs from taylor swift’s “midnights”
in honor of the lavender haze music video...here is my list of bob’s characters as midnights tracks!! (if someone has done this already oops i am sorry!!) (also these are just my opinion!!! if you believe differently i’d love to hear what songs you’d match to each character!!!) (this is my first time adding a cut to a post i hope it works)
track 1 - lavender haze : courtney wheeler
 “talk your talk and go viral, i just need this love spiral”
this song is really fun and cute and hello??? lavender??? i also just love courtney a lot and i can see her loving this song
track 2 - maroon : jimmy pesto jr. + tina belcher
“the rust that grew between telephones, the lips i used to call home - so scarlet, it was maroon”
honestly this one kind of stumped me but also gave me older tina x jimmy jr. vibes soooo
track 3 - anti-hero : bob belcher
“it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero”
hello!!!! this song is so bob!!!! 
track 4 - snow on the beach (feat. lana del rey) : jocelyn
“and it’s fine to fake it til you make it, til you do, til it’s true”
this song just gives me huuuuge jocelyn vibes 
track 5 - you’re on your own, kid : tina belcher
“i wait patiently, he’s gonna notice me - it’s okay, we’re the best of friends”
this song!!!!! is so tina!!!!!! i am convinced taylor was watching bob’s burgers when she wrote this
track 6 - midnight rain : linda belcher (ALSO MY FAVE TRACK)
“he wanted a bride, i was making my own name, chasing that fame, he stayed the same, all of me changed like midnight”
linda leaving hugo for bob???? hello???? (also if anyone saw the tik tok that was bob’s burgers couples as midnight rain.....hi that was me on my personal account lol)
track 7 - question...? : tammy larsen 
“and what’s that that i heard? that you’re still with her? that’s nice, i’m sure that’s what’s suitable”
honestly could not think of anyone else and this song is pretty snarky lol
track 8 - vigilante shit : louise belcher
“don’t get sad, get even”
pure vibes. that is all
track 9 - bejeweled : gene belcher
“best believe i’m still bejeweled, when i walk in the room, i can still make the whole place shimmer”
gene. my precious sagittarius boy. it just fits
track 10 - labyrinth : zeke + tina belcher
“you would break your back to make me break a smile”
i was so inspired by the zekina-ness of this song when i first heard it that i named my fanfic after it *sobbing*
track 11 - karma : susmita
“sweet like honey, karma is a cat purring in my lap ‘cause it loves me”
i couldn’t think of anyone else, susmita stays in her own lane, karma is her boyfriend
track 12 - sweet nothing : linda + bob
“and the voices that implore, “you should be doing more”, to you i can admit that i’m just too soft for all of it”
i couldn’t not put this song for them. “you’re in the kitchen humming” and i’m sobbing
track 13 - mastermind : millie frock 
“the planets and the fates and all the stars aligned - you and i ended up in the same room at the same time” 
i was going to put louise for this one but honestly. it fits millie better
BONUS TRACK:
track 16 - paris : gene belcher  + alex papasian + courtney wheeler
“i’m so in love that i might stop breathing, drew a map on your bedroom ceiling”
i couldn’t not have a gac pack song 
this was honestly so fun and i would love to do this for more taylor albums lol
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The Magic of Beginnings
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Disclaimer: I do not own either of the canon characters. They belong solely to Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. No monetary gain is being made from this drabble. I did, however, re-name my female Byleth in-game to Atarah, as I thought Byleth was the name for the male hero since that was the name in my fiancé’s playthrough when he would play as I studied for Nursing school exams nearly two years ago. Oops. So, any mention to Atarah is indeed a blue-haired female Byleth.
 ----------------------
           When Atarah the blue-haired daughter of the famed Captain Jeralt first begins her position at the monastery, Claude is instantly by her side.
“You came!” he happily chirrups, and almost blinding smile appearing on his lips. “I’m so happy you did,” the leader of the Golden Deer adds, dropping the volume of his voice to nearly a whisper.
“That I did,” Atarah softly grins, a small quirk of her lips and nothing more. “Apparently my father and I are in high demand around here,” the famed mercenary continues as she and Claude walk through the courtyard together. “It seems we both have our work cut out for us.”
“Indeed. Though, from what I saw of your skill in battle when you saved us from those thieves, they’re right to proposition you to stay,” Claude compliments, his eyes shining at the recent memory. “Although, I hope their offer was not as tactless as Dimitri’s and Edelgard’s were,” he laughs, thinking of those two house leaders trying to recruit Atarah immediately following the battle with the thieves.
 ------------------------
           “Is there something you wanted, Claude?” Atarah inquires some time later as she realizes they have nearly reached her quarters and the heir to the Alliance is still animatedly chatting with her.
“Hmm?” Claude hums, slight confusion etched on his brow. “Must I want something to spend time with you, Atarah? After that battle and our journey here, I would consider us to be friends,” he admits, suddenly pulling up to a stop as they reach Atarah’s quarters.
Atarah’s cheeks quickly develop a scarlet blush in embarrassment as she looks up at Claude.
“I’m sorry, Claude. I… I…” Atarah stammers, and she can’t help but use one of Jeralt’s favorite curses in her head. “Of course I didn’t mean it to sound like that. My social skills will need some work, it seems,” the blue-haired mercenary admits, the color still painting her cheeks. “Floating from battlefield to battlefield with my father never left me the option of speaking to those my own age, I’m afraid,” she continues, and Atarah wonders what the smooth-talking heir of the Alliance could possibly be thinking about her now.
Claude gently laughs, clasping Atarah’s hands in his warmer, larger ones before he speaks again, his green eyes locking on Atarah’s azure blue ones.
“Atarah, I mean what I said about thinking of you as my friend,” he assures, squeezing Atarah’s hands gently. “Let’s just spend the next year or so learning about each other, little by little,” Claude suggests, that dazzling smile of his appearing and making Atarah go weak at the knees.
(Goddess, he truly is handsome!)
“I’d… I’d like that very much, Claude,” Atarah smiles back.
“Then I bid you goodnight, my Lady,” Claude grins, dropping a kiss to the back of her hand before turning back towards his own quarters.
The new professor of the Blue Lions quickly closes her door with a sigh, slumping to the floor with a dreamy far-off look in her eyes.
           Whenever they both have a free moment, Claude and Atarah are nearly inseparable. They walk through the grounds of the monastery, talking about anything and everything, ranging from their unnatural upbringings to discovering their birthdays are only a day apart, with Atarah’s being the day before Claude’s. As they walk and explore the monastery together, Claude learns that Atarah feels most at peace in nature and can handle a sword better than anyone, other than Felix, that he’s ever met. Meanwhile, Atarah learns that Claude is a terrible cook, as she learns the hard way when he burns the meal they were cooking together in the dining hall, and that the heir of House Riegan would rather shy away from any responsibility in favor of aiding those he cares about. They fall into a sort of pattern this way, spending time uninterrupted with each other at least every other day to the point that everyone else has begun to take notice. No matter. Let them be jealous of their newfound companionship if they wanted. It’s not like the opinions of others has ever mattered to Claude and Atarah, and it’s not like they are breaking any rules.
 ----------------------
           When Lady Rhea discovers that Captain Jeralt’s only child’s birthday is fast approaching, she quickly and happily announces there will be a ball held in honor of Atarah as the newest professor of Garreg Mach Monastery. Knowing of Claude’s love of music and his birthday being the day after hers, Atarah suggests a joint party to Lady Rhea and Seteth. At this suggestion, Seteth speaks of “favoritism” and that it would mean they should have celebrated Edelgard’s birthday in this way, which had already passed. Atarah knows that very well, thank you very much, as she sent Edelgard flowers and dined with the leader of the Black Eagles to celebrate. Oh, well. She had tried, and no one can fault her for that.
 ----------------------
           Atarah’s birthday and subsequent party quickly approach, and everyone at Garreg Mach is abuzz with energy. Jeralt begins the festivities by bringing his daughter breakfast in bed like he did every year prior with a smile on his lips and a second tray for himself.
“For you,” Captain Jeralt suddenly announces, producing a gift from seemingly nowhere with a grin lighting his features.
“It’s beautiful, Papa!” Atarah gasps, throwing her arms around Jeralt’s neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek at the sight of a brand new, handcrafted sword.
“You’ve been training so much that I knew you’d love a new one. Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Jeralt whispers, and Atarah thinks of how privileged she is to be the only one alive who gets to see Captain Jeralt, her fearless father, at his kindest. After her breakfast with her father, Atarah walks into the Blue Lions lecture room to find everyone waiting for her, which is definitely strange since Sylvain is almost always late.
“What’s all this, then?” she inquires, taking in all of the excited faces.
A chorus of “Happy birthday!” soon rings out. Atarah’s heart swells at the gesture.
 --------------------------
           That evening, the party commences after dinner and is planned to last halfway through the night, despite tomorrow being a training day. If there is one thing that does not mix well with Atarah, it’s being the center of attention in a social gathering. Due to her upbringing on many battlefields, she isn’t very talkative in general, preferring to listen and offer advice or an input when necessary. There are a handful of people who can consistently engage her in conversation, one of whom is coming towards her.
“You look beautiful, Teach,” Claude compliments, his voice breathy with emotion as he takes in the sight of Atarah wearing an emerald green dress that honestly matches Claude’s eyes.
“Thank you, Claude,” Atarah quietly returns, the tips of her ears turning pink as she meets Claude’s gaze. “You look quite handsome tonight,” she shyly grins, her blue eyes twinkling in the low light. “I really wish you’d stop calling me that, though.”
“Ah, c’mon, it’s funny!” Claude laughs, taking Atarah’s hand in his own. “I will try not to do it quite as much, then… Teach,” he continues, and Atarah playfully smacks his upper arm.
“You’re such an imp,” Atarah chuckles softly, the smallest quirk coming to her lips.
“Ah, but that’s one of my many charms,” Claude grins, showing all of his white teeth to the woman in front of him. “Now, c’mon, let’s have our one obligated dance we’ve agreed to, and then we can sneak on outta here,” he suggests, offering Atarah his hand as they prepare to join the other dancers.
“You mean it? You really want to dance with me?” Atarah inquires, hope evident in her voice as Claude gently pulls her on to the dance floor. “What if I step on your feet?”
“Of course I wanna dance with you, Atarah,” Claude answers in earnest, using one of his hands to tuck a loose strand of blue hair behind her ear. “I did tell you I was a treasure on the dance floor, and I intend to show you that,” he teases, his emerald eyes shining in mirth. “And don’t worry about stepping on my toes. I’m sure I’ve sustained many more injuries training against Dimitri and Edelgard.”
 -----------------------
           After they dance to two slow songs and one fast dance complete with plenty of spinning and twirling, Claude and Atarah sneak out of the side door and head for the grassy field behind the monastery. Neither of them do particularly well in large crowds, and with everyone living at Garreg Mach in attendance, the room was practically filled to the brim. Once they are far enough away from the hustle and bustle noise of the party, Atarah and Claude flop down, the grass tickling against Atarah’s pale, bare legs.
“There! That’s much better! Isn’t it, Teach?” Claude happily sighs, reclining in the grass with his arms behind his head.
“It absolutely is,” Atarah agrees, the smallest of smiles on her lips as she sits next to Claude. “You are quite the splendid dancer, Claude. I could hardly keep up,” she compliments, her blue eyes locking onto his green ones.
“You aren’t so bad yourself,” Claude admits, his smile radiating in the darkness. “I’d gladly dance with you again, just say the word,” he winks, and that silent blush returns to Atarah’s cheeks.
Atarah simply grabs Claude’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, one of their many forms of silent communication they have built over the past few months. With that, they both settle into the grass to watch the stars shining down from above.
 ----------------------
           The bell over the monastery chimes as it does five minutes before the end of the hour, and that snaps Claude and Atarah out of their silent reverie with the stars.
“Teach, quick! Make a birthday wish before the night’s over!” Claude declares, jerking himself upright, pulling Atarah up with him until they are sitting practically nose-to-nose.
“Whatever would I wish for?” Atarah inquires, not quite remembering if she has ever made a birthday wish in the past.
“Whatever your heart desires! C’mon, give it a try,” the leader of the Golden Deer urges, clasping Atarah’s hands in his own.
Quirking her brow at him before acquiescing, Atarah closes her blue eyes and makes her birthday wish. Suddenly, flashes of light appear even behind her eyelids and when Atarah opens her eyes, Claude and the rest of the world before her are bathed in the lights and colors of fireworks.
“Whatcha think?” Claude inquires, holding Atarah’s right hand tenderly with his left.
“It… It’s magical!” Atarah gasps, the breath nearly leaving her body. “I wonder how they…” she begins to question before Claude cuts her off.
“I told them. I knew how much you’ve always wanted to see fireworks, Teach.”
“Claude, I… Thank you! I don’t know what to…”
Suddenly, Claude acts on impulse and crashes their lips together, his right hand coming to rest on her cheek while his left curls protectively around Atarah’s waist. Atarah is originally shell-shocked due to never being kissed before, but she quickly matches Claude’s rhythm, switching from gentle and demure to more demanding effortlessly. As the clock strikes midnight, switching from the 23rd to the 24th of Blue Sea Moon, they part.
“Happy birthday, Atarah,” Claude whispers, a satisfied smile on his lips.
“Happy birthday, Claude,” Atarah gently returns, her heart swelling with the magic of new beginnings.
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Author’s Note: So, I started my first Fire Emblem: Three Houses playthrough a few months ago and picked the Blue Lions house because I liked the rest of the students from the house the best out of all the cast. However, in my heart of hearts, my female Byleth (here named Atarah because when I made my playthrough I didn’t realize that Byleth was the canon name for the protagonist until my fiancé pointed that out to me) falls in love with and marries Claude because his storyline and the interest he shows in female Byleth/Atarah in my game is just so insanely precious. So, yes, Atarah in my playthrough is the professor for the Blue Lions house but she is courting and then ends up marrying Claude. This is the first step on their journey together in which per the in-game dialogue, Claude says he wants to “spend the next year or so learning about each other, little by little”, which is what inspired this fic to take hold. I know I technically wrote it for the “A Drabble a Day” challenge that I have fallen behind on- and subsequently backdated some of my works because I had this fic and about thirty others written at the end of December 2022, I promise, but my work schedule gets in the way of posting- even though this is very clearly a story much longer than a drabble. Anyway, all this to say I hope you sincerely enjoyed my first Claude/female Byleth (Atarah) story and expect to see more of this pairing from me in the future as I continue to play the game once I have a break from work and once my wedding is in just more than two weeks! Until next time, my dear readers! Have an amazing day, afternoon, or night!
 P.S. Let me know who your favorite Fire Emblem: Three Houses popular pairing is and who your favorite Fire Emblem: Three Houses rare pair is!
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screampied · 7 months
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all works are intended for a eighteen plus audience. second masterlist.
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ପ multi headcanons ଓ
how they brat tame you.
being a brat ‘n spitting their load out.
no nut november.
hit it from the back.
too sweet. (cw aphrodisiacs)
slippery when wet. (cw squirting)
hiding your moans in bed.
she’s a super freak.
gimme gimme more.
three’s a crowd.
ride it like you own it.
but that dick was a 10/10.
just the tip girl.
ride the dick like a carnival.
scream no bologna.
talkin bodyyy.
slut stretch me out.
fuck me like u want me.
getting a screampie.
freak like me.
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ପ oneshots/fics ଓ
★ — SATORU GOJO.
fantasize: you screw your fwb to get over your shitty ex. was it worth it though? probably…not.
sweet tooth: two culinary chefs compete on who can make you cream the most. get it?
fifteen seconds of fame: popstar!gojo needs help on warming up his vocal chords. his solution? right between your legs.
bad romance: you get sandwiched between popstar!gojo & his best friend of a bassist, suguru geto.
poker face: instead of receiving his fifth grammy for the night, popstar!gojo gets a…boner.
alejandro: arguing with the famous popstar leads for him to fire you. what happens when you see him with another assistant the next day?
it’s a match! last friday night: you end up ‘accidentally’ matching on tinder with your best friend—then you hook up with him, then the L word gets thrown around. damn!
★ — FUSHIGURO TOJI.
mission failed: nut ruined: you’re hired to kill a famous assassin but instead you end up in his bed.
love me, love me [ not ]: you get arranged to marriage toji. how does a single kiss make you weak so easily?
think i need someone older: fucking your dad's best friend was so wrong but felt so right.
darlin can i be your favorite: you fuck your dad’s two best friends and one of them is you ex-boyfriend (shiu kong)
one of his girlssss: your dad’s best friend finds out about your side hustle of being a camgirl. oops!
knock(her)out: you get shared between two boxers before their big match.
that girl is mine: you meet up with your dad’s best friend one more time, although instead of telling him those three words, you tell him something else.
★ — SUGURU GETO.
sweet tooth: two culinary chefs compete on who can make you cream the most. get it?
jailbreak: you’re a correctional officer for one of your inmates. sleeping with him? not your brightest idea.
bad romance: you get sandwiched between popstar!gojo & his best friend of a bassist, suguru geto.
★ — SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
knock(her)out: you get shared between two boxers before their big match.
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ପ thirsts ଓ
★ — SATORU GOJO.
throat goat.
that’s what i thought.
thats what i thought boy.
lip gloss poppin.
super soaker.
suck a what.
★ — FUSHIGURO TOJI.
jealousy jealousy.
want you back.
thinkin’ bout you.
tease me please me.
talk you through.
want a taste.
hate me fuck me.
talk to me nice.
soft with you.
★ — SUGURU GETO.
no talking.
just a brat.
wear my hoodie.
my pretty girl.
★ — CHOSO KAMO.
my love mine all mine.
draw me, do me.
that’s a good girl.
want your taste.
get humbled.
vampire choso.
sharing is caring
good boy.
missed you.
stuck in the middle.
edge me baby.
can’t take it.
★ — SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
said it’s her first time.
remember your safe word.
give me one more.
twos better than one.
tease me please me.
stretch me baby.
kinda kinky.
wanna please you.
lick me up.
★ — NANAMI KENTO.
can’t live without you.
do i pass?
test me.
give me more.
my messy girl.
★ — HIGURUMA HIROMI.
on call.
nose rider.
love me harder.
relax for me.
my girl.
★ — YUKI TSUKUMO.
let me be your woman.
sharing is caring.
stuck in the middle.
★ — HAKARI KENJI.
fill me up.
too flexible.
slip n slide.
★ — SHIU KONG.
on the hood.
★ — SHOKO IEIRI.
down on me.
© 2023-2024 SCREAMPIED. please do not copy, modify, or translate my work. all rights are rightfully reserved to me.
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5K notes · View notes
somerpmemes · 3 years
Text
The Owl House Starters
Change as needed
“No! My only weakness! Dying!”
“That doesn’t count, right?”
“Do you have any friends? Real ones?”
“Tiny trash thief!”
“Oops, that happens sometimes.”
“I’m a squirmy little fella.”
“I like food, I like love, just let me write about it!”
“Oh, he gets so cute when he’s thirsty for power.”
“I’ve never actually broken any of your stupid laws… in front of you.”
“I hate everything you’re saying right now.”
“We’d be the strongest power couple ever.”
“Self-doubt is a prison you can never escape from.”
“Anyways, let’s bounce before any more monsters fall in love with me.”
“I am not your cutie pie!”
“No one wants an un-oiled snake.”
“Remember, never befriend a man in sandals and always measure twice, cut once.”
“Be back by nightfall or risk mortal peril!”
“I know I’ve had enough delight for one day.”
“Sorry to break it to you, ___, but no one here is that well-dressed.”
“This has been a rough day.”
“Big houses always belong to big whack jobs.”
“Today just got good.”
“Wizards are just old people with glitter in their pockets.”
“Anyways, your food is gone and we are too.”
“Never trust a man in casual drapery.”
“All that mean-spirited laughter made me sleepy.”
“I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.”
“All your food was so tiny and cute.”
“If you can think of a better plan I’d love to hear it.”
“Betrayed by my own cool accessories.”
“I didn’t have to be part of this!”
“I… don’t like this.”
“I think I’ll head home and look at pictures of animals that are still… alive.”
“Wow, you’re so unnoticeable I almost rolled into you.”
“It’s okay, the thorns only went through a few layers of skin.”
“Alright, into the darkness you go.”
“Oh my god, I haven’t eaten real food in so long please give me some.”
“You can’t just cut open a human, can you?”
“Keeping junk in my pocket saved my life!”
“Ahh, baby’s first wanted poster.”
“Even demons have inner demons.”
“This is my paying attention face.”
“Look, now we’re boo boo buddies.”
“It’s like a rainbow, but looking at it turns you inside out.”
“I respect your cunning but I also hate you for it.”
“Oh, gross. Can I keep that?”
“This is terrifying, so why do you look so happy?”
“Oh no, a twist!”
“I’m kind of over that nickname, but okay.”
“Oh, what lovely thing do we have here? It’s just so dang shiny, oh my.”
“And look, I drew flip book.”
“I will literally do anything to stop this.”
“If I’m seen, I could go to jail… again.”
“Alright, let’s see this mess.”
“That’s probably fine.”
“Time to prepare for bloodshed.”
“Welcome down to my level!”
“I know I should be repulsed but that look is fierce.”
“I’m gonna steal everything that’s not nailed down!”
“I was up all night poison tasting and, for some reason, I don’t feel great.”
“I need an extra pair of eyes looking out for pickpockets. And an extra pair of hands in case I want to pickpocket.”
“I got leaves in my pants. And I like it.”
“I was a strange child.”
“You think this can stop me? I can still bite your ankles.”
“If you’re gonna eat me, just do it now!”
“___, you’re getting all swoony again.”
“Rivals are meant to be annihilated, not befriended.”
“Witches eating babies is so 1693.”
“Ugh, you.”
“I thought we were as cool as cucumbers but we’re as sour as pickles.”
“Whoa, I almost passed out.”
“It’s been hours, how can it keep screaming!?”
“Say that again and I steal your tongue.”
“Keep going, this is fun to watch.”
“Isn’t that taking it a bit too far?”
“Just go away before things somehow get worse!”
“This never happened.”
“And who doesn’t like their name in lights?”
“That’s the incorrect reaction!”
“I smell an easy mark.”
“Well, I hate her.”
“It’s like demonic possession with the ones you love.”
“This is just like my favorite early 2000’s movie!”
“I’m so old… and pointy.”
“I’ve got some very confusing emotions right now.”
“My life’s not a joke! But yours is!”
“Novelty costumes are where I draw the line.”
“I am not above disrespecting my elders.”
“This vacation just took an alarming, back-alley turn.”
“Geez, I thought I’d like being babied. But I feel small and helpless, like some sort of baby.”
“Hey, take this, society!”
“I didn’t like her telling me what to do before, but now I love it!”
“Let’s go let out some teen angst!”
“This is how the cool kids ride. Super backwards, on purpose.”
“Your life is pretty terrible. But, hey, it’ll probably be over soon.”
“This is some of my best work, really captures the shame.”
“That’s sweet, kid. Now let’s never speak of this again.”
“Show, don’t tell, man.”
“Oh, look what you did. I’m gonna go rub it in.”
“That seems like a potential problem to me.”
“You being the razzle, I’ll bring the dazzle.”
“Do you always have confetti on you or—?”
“You’re just gonna be unhelpful, huh?”
“Okay, time to run for no particular reason!”
“Oof, I’ve had this nightmare before.”
“Like I’d actually apologize.”
“I want power, and I want drama.”
“Are you ready to give up?”
“I was afraid, I acted stupid.”
“I just wish you told me the truth.”
“You know, it didn’t taste as bad as I thought I would.”
“Impressive, still alive.”
“This is a throne worthy of a tyrant!”
“No, no, keep those sticky hands away.”
“No one wants to see that.”
“Since when are you into sports?”
“Gross, sympathy.”
“Don’t spend all night plotting revenge.”
“Oh, this is an interesting development.”
“I’ll take that weird grumble as a yes.”
“I’m feeling confident about this plan.”
“Trust must be earned.”
“If you run, you’ll just make it harder for yourself!”
“Your pride has destroyed you.”
“So tiny, so angry.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be clean again.”
“If you ever want to search for the truth, I’ll help you.”
“Aww, that’s a horrible lie.”
“Partake of my free snack samples!”
“Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?”
“A, eww. B, I’m bored. C, I feel like pickpocketing some dork while they browse.”
“I know my good angle.”
“Ugh, what are the basement dwellers doing out in natural sunlight?’
“Hey, there’s more to life than shipping.”
“___, I know you’re trying to help, but I think you’re crossing a line.”
“Ooh, I love punching.”
“You’re ominous, and I like it.”
“And of course you would be here just to be a nuisance.”
“I wanted to compare sunglasses.”
“Fame can really box you in, you know?”
“Besides, if anyone’s putting you down it’s gonna be me.”
“If it’s disappointing in any way I’ll spend the rest of my life trashing it.”
“He scammed us. Can you believe he scammed us?”
“Good entrance. But that outfit? Hah!”
“I’ve got a new crush and her name is education!”
“Ahh, fresh garbage.”
“I have never seen such an extravagant earring.”
“Wow, a surprisingly peaceful domestic moment. When will it be ruined?”
“Weaponizing my pride, well played.”
“Sorry, whoever’s over there!”
“Well, go on. Eat the snow.”
“Huh, it’s no fun if they don’t tremble.”
“Oh, okay, alright. Yup, an idea’s happening.”
“Shh! I don’t need your validation!”
“Get back here before that thing bites you!”
“No, we’re gonna die.”
“Cool. I didn’t actually think you could do it.”
“It’s not a secret.”
“Alright, your adorable banter is literally making me sick.”
“Believe it or not, I’ve seen worse.”
“Aww. I won’t be doing that, but thanks.”
“Quitting: it’s like trying, but easier.”
“You humans are filled with liquids, right?”
“I guess I have always liked pouring things into other things.”
“Time to scrounge through the trash.”
“I ain’t no desk jockey.”
“You don’t know diddly dang about squiddly squat!”
“I love secret rooms!”
“You have an aura of lies.”
“Also, you can eat trash.”
“Do the right thing, you dingus!”
“It just goes on like this for an hour.”
“Carnivals bring crowds and crowds bring suckers.”
“We’ve got scams to run.”
“I know poison when I see it.”
“You can’t scam a scammer.”
“You should really put a lock on your closet.”
“I love crimes!”
“Now this is my kind of weird.”
“That’s way safer than becoming blood brothers.”
“Beat up the man and steal his things for me.”
“This mama is ready for trauma.”
“All right. Approval!”
“Curse these stubby legs!”
“Sketchy carnival rides are not to blame this time.”
“___, you’re lucky I can’t be mad at your adorable antics.”
“Just when I thought I couldn’t respect the law any less…”
“Aww, what a supportive sign.”
“Yep, I just counted to one million.”
“Looks like we ruined his life for a second time.”
“I’ve always wanted to own a jagged piece of cheap metal.”
“Yes! Bread puns, bread puns forever!”
“Now I know what friendship tastes like.”
“I think today is a talons day.”
“It’s fun because it’s stupid.”
“I’ll admit, I was adorable.”
“Be careful with my brain.”
“Wouldn’t you rather talk about it?”
“That’s my motto after all, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’”
“No schemes, no plots, no ruses. None.”
“I can’t believe I made him cry.”
“Are you solving a crime or about to commit one?”
“Sadly this is one problem crime can’t solve.”
“I’m supposed to choose someone interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy. People aren’t meant to be all those things!”
“Yup, her brain’s burned up real good.”
“Be still my fantasy-loving heart.”
“I’m pretty good at getting stuck inside people’s heads.”
“Hey, I found something magical.”
“I’ma put my face in it.”
“It’s like a little doghouse for angels.”
“If you’re handing out attention, I deserve it.”
“Eww, I mean, aww.”
“I really messed things up.”
“It’s eggs, it’s full of eggs.”
“No one turns down an interview with someone this pretty.”
“Me? Avoid? What? No. But let’s skip it.”
“There’s levels to me, kid. Levels I say!”
“Oh, right, I put people in there.”
“I’m gonna hug you so hard you’ll never forget me again!”
“I regret teaching you about the internet.”
“Ah, a severed hand. Perfect response.”
“Hmm, the demon at my shoulder makes a good point.”
“Always trust a shoulder demon.”
“The more I look at him, the more uncomfortable I get.”
“Man, you’ve got some quick grabbers.”
“I can’t wait to get overdressed, take awkward photos, push all the buttons!”
“We’re gonna turn this bloodbath into a fun bath.”
“Do you think I could pull off red eyeshadow?”
“Girl, you could pull off anything.”
“We’re style geniuses!”
“Ominous footsteps, creepy woods, this is no problem.”
“Dang, I look great.”
“___, you always go overboard and I end up bailing you out.”
“Now, what’s the fun in watching a kid get eaten by a monster if it’s my kid?”
“___, I don’t think you’re ready but we’re literally out of time.”
“Why so twitchy, witchy?”
“Teenagers are brutal. They’ll boo anyone and that kind of public humiliation will stick with you for life.”
“You look nice. Strange, but nice.”
“Honestly, I’m kind of amazed with how fearless you are.”
“You’ve done things I could never do.”
“Thing is, you’re sitting in my personal chitchat zone, which means you gotta talk.”
“I am a little weirdo.”
“You gotta pander.”
“Cheating a isn’t anything to brag about.”
“Well, can’t reason with crazy!”
“I’ve been talking for too long.”
“Feeling sentimental?”
“I love water.”
“I don’t know much about sports but I do know about sports movies.”
“What happens in the montage stays in the montage.”
“Not everything can be solved with a good attitude and a dope movie soundtrack.”
“Sorry, I just really love backstories.”
“You just destroyed your social life.”
“That’s such a stupid rule!”
“You’re not gonna show this to anyone, right?”
“I haven’t forgotten what you promised me.”
“Ahh, you’re a thorn in my side but you always dig your way into my heart.”
“Jeez, you’re morbid.”
“Ahh, it’s a fate much worse than death if you think about it.”
“Please don’t make me regret taking you here.”
“Love me a properly ventilated castle.”
“I spy with my little eye something coming this way!”
“I’m going away and I don’t know if I can come back this time.”
“And  ___, thank you, for being in my life.”
“I want her back as much as you do.”
“Don’t look at me like that, this is for your own good.”
“Ah farts, I got caught.”
“You understand, don’t you?”
“Please tell me that’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“To be great, you have to make sacrifices.”
“Ahh, ___, you chose the wrong side.”
“I like your spirit, but try that again and things won’t end well for you.”
“Go on, then. Go be a hero.”
“I may have lost but so have you.”
“I can teach you what I know, and what we don’t know we can learn together.”
324 notes · View notes
galaxxiwrites · 3 years
Text
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I DON'T know what happened a while ago, honestly. Tumblr went from oops your draft was deleted to TEEHEE let's post your incomplete post and I'm??
edit: I hate the tumblr app.
Anyway, round 2! Again: Spoilers for the entire game, up until 5.4!
Dating (ft. Thancred, Hien & Ardbert)
Thancred Waters
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I hope you're ready to give this man a shower considering how greasy he is 💀
A relationship with Thancred isn't exactly smooth-sailing. This is because of two things: one, is that he's never really committed himself to any one person in an intimate sense. Two, is because of his crippling self-deprecation that forces him to keep working past his body's limits.
So while he continues to play at being flirtatious and suave, he can't internally deny that when you two are sharing a more private moment, his heart beats at a pace he isn't used to. If you ever pick up on his nervousness, he'll try to play it off cooly.
"Me? Nervous? Surely you jest, I've been to dates like these way more times than I'd like to remember- and probably more that I don't."
Thancred says as he can barely hold his utensil properly with his shaking hand.
Additionally, I hope you're prepared to become Thancred's constant reminder to care for himself. He literally will not stop overworking himself unless you've forcefully stopped him.
He thinks that he should keep working, to make up all that he's lacked in the past. So please PLEASE remind him that he's done more than enough, and that you'll be there beside him to fill up whatever gaps he's missing. Become his pillar of support, because after all that he's lost, he is in dire need of one even if he himself refuses to admit so.
While he was raising Ryne, then called Minfilia of the First, he would unknowingly talk about you for hours on end. It got to the point where even without meeting you, Ryne thought of you as one of her surrogate parents.
When the young lady finally met you, she couldn't help but feel so overjoyed. Nay, no words could describe just how ecstatic she felt to finally meet you- so much so that she accidentally blurted out mom/dad.
Thancred had no explanation for that, at all. In fact, he didn't even deny anything—maybe hinting that he doesn't mind finally taking things more seriously.
Hien Rijin
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Do you like himbos? You do? Well, you're in luck, because Hien is 200% made of himbo and 500% made of respect women juice.
Being around Hien feels like being under the sunlight surrounded by sunflowers, his smile just radiates so much happiness that it's contagious.
And he's grateful for the fact, as he would never ever let you be sad. He thinks you look the best smiling, so he'll always try and keep it like that.
Hien, being the leader of Doma, will naturally have most of his time dedicated to the rebuilding the country. This also includes a lot of diplomatic work, which can be incredibly taxing at times. So whenever you're around, all he needs is a small comfort cuddle and he's fully charged again!
If you're having an extremely bad day, Hien won't shy away from taking a day off from his duties. After all, you were as important to him as Doma was. He'd stick beside you for the whole day, taking you to Doma's many scenic views.
"I remember a time when cherry blossoms filled the lands of Doma. I hope that one day, I'll be able to show you the view I saw on those days."
Isn't exactly the type to get jealous, because he fully trusts in you and your relationship. If, however, someone is being way too persistent, he won't hesitate to show off his katana to whoever is persuing you
"Dearest, there you are! I recently sharpened my blade, would you like to have a look?"
Though he addresses you, Hien side eyes whoever is forcing themself on you. A hand rests on its hilt, ready to bring the blade out, thus scaring off the poor soul. The two of you laugh it off right after.
Ardbert
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You were an adventurer that started alongside Ardbert, and many of your earliest missions were spent together. Because of this, it was no wonder that you two started dating.
Even when he became a famed hero of the First, Ardbert would always return to your side. It was so heartwarming to know that Ardbert was still the same man you fell in love with even after all this fame.
He likes to take you out on evening dates. The both of you ride on Seto as he takes you across the star-filled sky. A lot of times you both just end up stargazing atop the highest mountain within the area. The stars, no matter how many times you saw them, always managed to take your breath away.
"Yeah, it's really breathtaking."
He says, although you don't know he was talking about you as you were too busy looking up.
Fuck I'm such a sucker for this trope ekfkdkfkd
He's thankful you really aren't one of Hydaelyn's chosen, but he's constantly worried about you nonetheless because he knows you're most definitely out there facing a strong enemy with your own party.
Always defends you whenever someone calls you as merely "his lover." While yes, he is proud that everyone knows you're his, he knows of your own strengths and wants the entire world to know about too, hence why he lets you adventure off even though he's constantly worried about you.
When he was brought back by the crystal as a spectre, the first person he searched for was you. Much to his dismay however, all that awaited him was a tombstone, sullied with clutter as the people's wrath for him unfortunately extended to you as well.
105 notes · View notes
hopelesshawks · 3 years
Text
Official Accounts Part 1- Blowing Up
Summary: (y/n) was perfectly happy remaining anonymous, even if her best friends were all pro heroes and she worked under THE Hawks. Handling the technical aspects of hero work from the background suited her just fine, thank you very much. That goes out the window when suddenly her twitter blows up thanks Denki and the famed no. 2 hero is asking her to run his own official twitter as a result
If you don’t want to see Official Accounts content blacklist #hopelessoa
Masterlist
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Author’s Note: Who knew tumblr had a 10 image limit 😬Part 2 will likely be up soon, just wanna make sure there’s enough content there to be worth it and it doesn’t just feel like the bit I couldn’t fit in this part even though that’s exactly what it is oops
215 notes · View notes
mandoalorian · 3 years
Text
Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 11
Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.
But in this chapter - references to verbal abuse and a neglectful mother.
Author’s note: After an accidental one month hiatus, I’m back! I’m nervous about posting this because I haven’t updated December Magic since I saw WW84. As you may have noticed, I have rebranded this fic and the name is now called ‘Sugar and Spice’! There is a slight time jump in this chapter, and it’s just a short one as I ween back into it, but I realised I was struggling so much continuing this fic after seeing WW84 because it just didn’t feel like the Max Lord we ended up with was anything like the Max Lord in this fic. This chapter is my attempt to make amends and draw a link between Sugar and Spice and WW84. 
While I’m here I want to give a shout out to my new on-going Max Lord series ‘I Believe In Love’, which you can read here. I Believe In Love is like my baby and I am so so proud of it thus far.  Anyways, enjoy chapter 11 of December Magic!
MASTERLIST
PREVIOUS - CHAPTER ELEVEN - NEXT
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He hadn’t come home for Christmas. He hadn’t come home for two months. It was fine at first. He called you as soon as he reached London, just like he promised. He expressed to you how busy he was with work commitments and how difficult it was for him to cope with the timezones. The distance between the UK and USA was devastating. Your hour long phone calls gradually became more spread out and only lasted a few minutes, and honestly? It broke your heart. There you were; living in Lord Manor, and Maxwell had kept his word: “you want for nothing”. You had everything. His weighty black AMEX card, a house staff such as a butler and a chef and your own personal driver to take you wherever you wished to go. Any material possessions you wished for… they were yours. You weren’t even working for the privilege or the money. Max was far away and yet, he made sure you still had a home and a life, and he made sure that you were safe.
But there was still an extreme void in your heart. You were missing Maxwell. You’d try calling him but there was always a dead line. Not even Raquel would answer. You felt like you were drifting apart and your whole body ached with dread as you wondered if Max had forgotten about you. You’d kept in contact with Maxwell’s three assistants at Black Gold and they had no information on the work commitments that Max was supposedly seeing too. The romance you had shared during December may have been a whirlwind, but you knew him better than any other person on the planet and you felt like he was deliberately avoiding you.
There was something not right.
***
“Kitty!” Maxwell cried, his cheeks burning red and his eyes flicking with bewilderment as the child was thrust into his arms. A ghost from his past. Kitty was an ex lover of Maxwell’s, and honestly one of many. He hadn’t thought about her in years.
“I’ve brought him up for the past six years, he’s your problem now!” Kitty spat, an evil smirk crossing her lips. “I see you on the television with all your fame and fortune, if you don’t want him then the least you can do is pay a nanny to watch him. I have nothing Max. A shitty little apartment in the east of London. I’m working for a modelling internship but it’s hard to find luck when I’ve got a six year old kid dragging my heels behind.”
“Dragging your heels?” Maxwell repeated, furiosity burning his lungs. “He’s your son for Christ sake! How can you say that? Right in front of him!” 
Maxwell turned back to the child who was standing as still as ever in the centre of the hotel room, nervously looking at his feet. Everytime Kitty raised her voice, the boy winced, and it crushed Max. This situation was all too familiar to him. 
“He’s your son too!” Kitty glared, her face just as cold as her heart. “I want nothing to do with him. Goodbye.” Kitty said, her voice venomous, before leaving the hotel room and slamming the door behind her.
Maxwell’s knees felt weak and wobbly and he stumbled to his bed, sinking down with an exasperated sigh. Max’s hands cradled his own face and he blinked away unshed tears before sitting back up and looking at the six year old boy. The boy was silent, and his dark eyes matched the sadness of his father’s. How could this have happened?
Maxwell Lord had a son.
Max didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say? He remembered doing work in London back in 1977; it was the start of his big break, and his bachelor persona hadn’t changed much since then. When Kitty found out Maxwell was back in London, she used it as her one final chance to track him down. Turns out, a big name CEO such as Max Lord was hard to get a hold of, especially when he lived on the other side of the world. Kitty never had pure intentions. Of course the pregnancy was unplanned and the sad reality was, Alistair was unwanted by his mother. Kitty was an aspiring model, fueled by ambition and goal, much like Maxwell. She didn’t have a single maternal instinct in her. Only there was a significant difference between Alistair’s parents. Whilst Kitty cared so little about her son, Maxwell knew that from this day forward, Alistair would be his top priority. He would never let his job intervene with his son. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes his own parents did.
Maxwell never thought about children, or considered bringing any into the world. He told himself he’d never want to be a father. He had such a terrible upbringing himself and his mother was wicked, he’d be too afraid. He’d never want to hurt or disappoint a potential child of his the way his own parents had hurt and disappointed him. But when he looked into his son’s eyes he felt nothing but determination. He’d been an absent father and that was not okay. Max just wished he’d known about his son before now. But it’s not like he could turn back time. Max knew he had to make amends and he knew he had to do it now.
Maxwell opened his arms and held Alistair’s hands, bringing him close and holding him tight against his chest. “My son,” he whispered, trying to refrain from crying. “I love you so much. I know you don’t know me, but you will, and I will spend the rest of my life making you proud. You are my everything.”
“You saved me daddy,” Alistair whimpered, tears spilling and dampening his father’s pinstripe shirt. “Thank you.”
***
You waited every day for Maxwell to return, but you never expected him. You were laying on the living room sofa, a blanket wrapped around you, half asleep as the muse from the television drowned out your thoughts. When you heard the lock on the front door click open, you thought you were dreaming. There was no way. No way. Footsteps. Hell, there was more chance of an intruder than it was Max. You rubbed your eyes and cautiously rose to your feet.
Your heart sank when he entered the room. It was him. He was home. Tears filled your eyes and you couldn’t hide the excited grin that painted your lips. “Oh my god Max!” you squealed, running up to him. He looked tired, but he was smiling too. You were inclined to run into his arms, but your focus on his face left you without realizing the small sleeping child he was carrying in his arms.
You blinked in confusion, your gaze flicking between Maxwell and the boy. “This is Alistair, my son.” Maxwell informed you, his voice hoarse and low. At the mention of his name Alistair stirred in his sleep and Maxwell immediately, on instinct, shushed him. 
“You-what?” You were speechless. You knew something was wrong the second Max had distanced himself. The second the phone calls had stopped and he hadn’t come home. You knew something was wrong when his assistants said his work schedule was clear. But never in a million years did you expect your sugar daddy to come home with a son.
“I didn’t know,” Max whispered in avoidance to wake up Alistair. “It’s a long story but I promise I’ll tell you everything. I’m sorry I didn’t come home for Christmas like I promised. I’m so sorry baby. I’ll make up for it.”
You couldn’t even gather words. You swallowed the hard lump in your throat and contemplated everything. You sighed. You believed Max - how could you not? Of course, you were very interested in learning all about his secret son but you supposed that didn’t matter too much right now. All that mattered is that Max was home, and safe. You smiled and rested your hand on Alistair’s forehead, brushing his straight black hair out of his face. Alistair smiled sleepily under your touch. Max’s cheeks grew warm with admiration as you comforted his son. It meant a lot to him that you took a liking to Alistair and that you accepted the fact Alistair was in his life now, and nothing would change that.
After all, Max Lord was still hopelessly devoted and in love with you.
“Come on,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to cup Maxwell’s face. You brushed your thumb over the height of his cheekbone and Max found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch. “Let’s take him to bed and go to bed ourselves. We clearly have a lot to catch up on.”
Max nodded his head in affirmation and you followed him upstairs. He took Alistair to a guest bedroom and gently tucked him under the blankets, pressing a caring kiss into his son’s forehead before turning back to you. As you watched his gentle actions, it was like you were witnessing a whole new side to Maxwell. And it was beautiful.
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siennahrobek · 3 years
Text
Prompt
In a new attempt to turn Anakin Skywalker to the darkside, Chancellor Palpatine orchestrates the disappearances of heavily pregnant Padme Amidala and Master Councilor Obi-Wan Kenobi. It backfired.
Nobody really won.
It had been ten years.
Knight Anakin Skywalker and Knight Ahsoka Tano were sent to a distress call far out in the outer rim, almost in wild space. Anakin didn’t mind the long journey. His former padawan was good company and sometimes, sometimes, it was nice to get away from the Temple for a while. Away from the sympathetic and pitying stares and lingering theories or rumors.
Things hadn’t been the same for many reasons.
Ten years ago, the two most important people in Anakin’s life disappeared, the man who raised him and his heavily pregnant wife. Eight years ago, they had found what was left of her body. Five years ago, the Order declared Master Kenobi one with the Force.
Anakin never truly stopped looking, but he was becoming dim in ability and stamina. It had been so long and there were no leads to follow. No trace or evidence of his old masters presence anyway. Nowadays, it was pretty much just research and keeping an eye out for anything that vaguely resembled him. He was trying to have the life Obi-Wan always wanted for him, balance and happiness. He tried to connect with others, with Jedi. He spent quite a bit of time mediating, walking the gardens, helping as many as he could throughout the galaxy. He was a good Jedi, he thought, at least on the outside. He was working on the inside. He had a jedi’s life.
It was all he had now. And he would do his best to make Obi-Wan proud.
But being happy, truly happy, Anakin wasn’t sure if he could truly achieve it anymore. Being balanced with that type of hole in your heart, it was difficult. He could accept loss better now; there was no stopping that sort of thing. When it was one’s time to leave the planes of this galaxy for the Force, it was something to rejoice. It was supposed to be home. It wasn’t so easy when there were no answers.
Ahsoka had been knighted several years earlier and Anakin could not have been more proud. Her friends had been there, had congratulated her and she was happy, he had to believe that. But even she missed the presence of another who should have been there. Obi-Wan would have wanted to be there, to witness such a great occasion. They did their best and afterwards, they had a good time, were happy with the rank that came with her knighthood. It wasn’t that either of them were mourning during the time. It was just, they could feel the missing piece. It has been a few years but lately, they had found themselves partnered up quite frequently for missions. He hoped Ahsoka didn’t mind too much but there was never going to be an easy way out of this. Around it. Because this was the type of thing he and Obi-Wan did. They were the Team. They did everything together, even after knighthood.
The Council was trying, he gave them that.
He didn’t know if it really helped, though. It was nice, though, that they cared. They kept an eye on him. Years before, he would have read that as they didn’t trust him. It took him a very, very long time to realize that wasn’t always the case. And partnering him up with someone he was close to, someone he trusted above most else, it was some way of caring. He still struggled with those thoughts, even years later, but he was easier now.
The mystery however, was not any easier. There was an abysmal void where his loved ones should have been. A tear in his heart from the mystery. The lack of answers. He still found himself grieving for Padme but it was easier now. Although no one was entirely sure exactly what had happened to her, at least they had found a body, they had a storyline about what had happened and how it happened. It wasn’t sometime Anakin liked to think about particularly, but it was easier to grieve knowing. She was gone and eventually, he had accepted that. Let go, so to speak. She was with the Force and Anakin could feel her in some of the things he did, some of the objects and people and actions he witnessed and saw. There was grief, but there was also knowing.
The same could not be said for Obi-Wan.
No one knew what happened to him. There were no clues, no evidence. He had disappeared one day, alongside Padme and no one ever could figure out how it happened or why or anything. Although they had found a body for her, they never did for him. Not even a glimmer of anything.
Some darker rumors, cynical beings, spread that he had abandoned the Order. That the war had made him go mad. That he had kidnapped the senator or worse, was the one who slaughtered her. Anakin had quickly put a stop to it. Everyone had felt it the moment he knew about these ideas and theories, diminishing and tarnishing Obi-Wan’s name that was atrocious. He was not the only one who felt this way, but he was the strongest and most determined and the most furious…
No one said anything now.
No one dared.
The Jedi kept him in high honors. He was mentioned in classes, with his thoughts and theories on the Force, his research on all the things he loved to learn; animals, plants, cultures, languages. His strategies from the war were taught. His negotiation fame was spread; everyone knew the stories of the Negotiator. He wasn’t just a war hero. He was a Jedi, and a great one at that. His faith in the Order, his faith in people, his faith in the Force, was incredible and Anakin hadn’t really come to realize how that was until years after.
Obi-Wan loved in such a way that Anakin hadn’t understood since he was a child. He wished that he could talk with him one more time, just to show his old master that he was right, that Anakin was okay. That Anakin knew how much Obi-Wan Kenobi loved him.
That Anakin was doing his very best to be the Jedi and person he knew he could be.
The clones continued to think of him; believe the best in their General Kenobi. They always had liked him. He was a high general, one that appreciated and valued their input and their lives. He was their finder, all the cadets – former and current – had been told the stories about how he found them like a true Jedi searcher. Even if it was by accident, it had jumpstarted their journey into being free. He had worked to help and protect them alongside other council members and the few politicians who saw them more as canon fodder. It amazed Anakin how long and intense the memories of the former soldiers were because he was still brought up.
Cody and a lot of the 212th had taken it hard; harder that most of the rest of the military. He was their direct general, someone they followed personally up until the very end of the war. Some of them had been friends, even. They had helped Anakin search for a long time, but it was getting harder for them. They had jobs now, they had to start lives, be citizens. Things were expected of them, like for some reason, they had to catch up to the rest of the citizens. It was a struggle and a fight but luckily, they did have allies for assistance.
Many clones got adopted into or employed at the Temple. There weren’t many force-sensitive ones, none enough that they would have made an actual Jedi knight, but the Order was loyal to them as they had been to the Jedi. Many troopers filled in other roles, of teachers, sparring partners, cooks, guards, and researchers. Waxer and Boil had made it from being aides to a creche master to being crèche masters themselves, with leading their own clan of initiates.
Obi-Wan would have loved that.
“Coming up to origin of signal,” Ahsoka announced from the pilot’s seat, flipping a few switches as she began the sequence for landing and attachment. In the middle of nowhere, Anakin noted. There wasn’t a planet near here, in sight or on the scanners. He wondered how they even got out here. Hopefully this wasn’t a mortis situation all over again. He did not want to deal with something like that again. The ship in front of them was small and broken down, floating aimlessly in the abyss of space.
He doubted anyone survived.
“You never know, master,” Ahsoka tried to keep herself upbeat as she shot him a grin, sharp teeth showing unabashedly. “Perhaps we will be pleasantly surprised,” she suggested with a bit of a shrug. The ship had made a thud as it hit the abandoned one and the latches untangled themselves to strike into the hull of the ship.
Oh. He had said that out loud. Oops.
“Latch engaged,” she added and turned to smile at him, tentatively once again. “Come on master. Let’s see what adventure awaits us.”
“I’m no longer your master, Ahsoka,” he reminded her, idly.
She shrugged once more. “Right,” she replied with a small smirk, her voice laced with sarcasm. It was practically oozing out of her. She remained him of his former master sometimes, with her humor and quick wit. With a mischievous side eye, she continued, slyly. “Let’s go, master.”
Anakin rolled his eyes and followed her out, making their way through their ship’s hatch and towards the abandoned one. He still didn’t think that anyone survived but this was their duty. And the calm silence of their journey and the nature of the mission was a bit of a relief from the fast-paced ones that he was normally sent on. Usually, it was a good way to keep his mind off of everything else. This was a nice reprieve.
As the two of them got into the derelict ship, Anakin started talking and he had absolutely no idea where it came from. It was like his mouth had started moving and his brain had not given it permission. “I’m sorry, Ahsoka.”
She glanced at him, curiously. “What for?”
He couldn’t quite meet her eyes, as they waved a flashlight around, searching the cockpit for life or anything else that could give them an idea into what had happened and who may have been there. “I know I haven’t really been…the same since…”
“Since Padme and Master Obi-Wan disappeared,” she supplied with a frown. It had been ten years since it happened and several years since she had been knighted and she still remembered. It was almost always the reason.
He nodded and swallowed heavily. “I…I got through Padme, to some extent at least. I knew what happened to her. But Obi-Wan…I still wonder.”
“Wonder…?”
“What happened. I know everyone says he wouldn’t leave me, not like that but…” he drifted off, looking down, his light flickering towards the floor, near useless. “I was a pretty terrible person around the time he disappeared, unbalanced and in a bad place. Listening to the wrong people, making terrible choices,” Anakin shuddered at the thought of what Palpatine nearly got him to do in his desperation and fury. It had been a dreadful time and everyone else had nearly paid the price for his mistakes, for his foolishness. Ten thousand Jedi, millions of the clones, all the people in the galaxy. He feared now what would have happened if he had not been pulled from the edge, if he had made that leap into the dark side, into the fear and anger and hate. “Perhaps…. maybe it was just too much for even the great and infinitely patient Master Kenobi.”
Ahsoka scoffed good-naturedly as she rolled her eyes, finding the sliver of humor to work through. “One, Master Obi-Wan was not infinitely patient,” she pointed out, glancing at him pointedly. She wasn’t completely wrong. Obi-Wan had a lot of patience but even he had his limits, generally with those he didn’t care for. His patience with Anakin though, that was legendary. Not that he would ever really admit that. “And two, they are right. He would never leave you out of choice. I mean come on. Master Obi-Wan.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he replied half-heartedly and tried shooting her a smile. It wasn’t very convincing, but it was all he had at the moment. After a suggestion of splitting up, the two of them went to opposite ends of the ship, Anakin towards the living quarters and Ahsoka towards the cargo bay. Perhaps Anakin could find some clues with the former inhabitant’s belongings or Ahsoka with whatever they were travelling with.
It was a bust. There was very little there, aside from some blankets. Anakin imagined there were a couple of people stuffed within the quarters, perhaps a man and a child or two, with the toys he found. There were some handmade wooden carved ship toys laying on the bed and Anakin picked one up. It was a Jedi star fighter, he realized. It wasn’t the most amazing rendition of the ship, but he was probably a little bias, considering he had not only flown one of these during the war, he still had one.
What was really interesting about it was the feelings imbued with it. The signature felt familiar, like he should know it, but it was weak. Whoever made this toy was filled with so much love, for the recipient, for those in general, that he cascaded off the toy in waves.
He wondered if the former inhabitant had been force sensitive. It might explain the feelings in the ship and the toys, especially.
“I don’t see anything!” Ahsoka shouted from the opposite end of the ship. He could hear her just fine, even though she was on the other end, but Anakin was still a bit entranced with the toy and the feelings coming off of it. “You?”
There was a brief silence and a clatter. Not big enough to be her body but it had sounded like she had dropped her flashlight.
Anakin glanced back towards where she had headed. He couldn’t see her but it was more instinctive than anything. “Ahsoka?”
Silence.
“Ahsoka?! Answer me?” Anakin started to panic, his heart beating faster and faster as he moved towards the door, calling her name.
She sounded scared and small, like back in the early days of the war and casualties were high. When she was worried about those she cared about, troopers, jedi, citizens. She sounded like she was in tears. Anakin couldn’t really remember a specific time where had sounded so fearful, so worried, so sad. Not in a way that was as blatant as this. “Skyguy?” Her voice called out. That was a name he hadn’t heard in a while. “You…you have to come see this.”
Anakin raced across the ship, panicked, and leaping over crates and objects. She didn’t make it sound like she was in danger, and she didn’t appear to be, but he didn’t stop until he was right next to Ahsoka. He had nearly crashed into it. She was standing in front of a large gray slab, some kind of relief sculpture of some kind. At least, that was what it looked like, although he hadn’t gotten a very good look at it. His attention was on Ahsoka. But he could tell what it was made out of. He had never seen such a large slab of carbonite before.
“What is it?”
She was crying, he could see a multitude of silent tears. They were running down her face in a cascade and although he couldn’t hear them, he could almost hear her sobs in the Force. But she just pointed up and Anakin followed her hand and gaze.
The face was distorted, like it had been looking down when the carbonite had been applied. The slab was huge and only made bigger by the cloak the figure wore. It was sweeping and wide, like he was trying to cover, hide or protect large objects underneath. Possibly, he was. But even with the odd, defensive pose and the face not looking straight on, even after ten years, Anakin knew that face.
He always knew that face.
Frozen in carbonite.
Obi-Wan Kenobi.
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pinencurls · 4 years
Text
“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”
Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3 
Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x 
Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”
14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)
- - - - 
It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert. 
I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him.                  . . . . . 
Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni. 
Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme. 
“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room. 
“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”
“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.” 
Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun. 
Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party. 
“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates. 
“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend. 
“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.
“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”  
“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.
“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”
“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.” 
“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders. 
That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests. 
I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.
. . . . .
“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes. 
“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask. 
“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note. 
 “Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours. 
I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door. 
Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.
He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever. 
As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.
No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced. 
Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am. 
Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table. 
“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”
“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?” 
“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.” 
“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..” 
“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?” 
He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair. 
“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case. 
“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid. 
“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them. 
“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?” 
It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar. 
“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host. 
“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.” 
A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time? 
“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?” 
I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night. 
“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar. 
“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls. 
I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold. 
. . . . .
“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet. 
“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.” 
“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?” 
“No Elle, of course I don’t-” 
“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet. 
“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.” 
“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?” 
It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee. 
“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.
. . . . . 
“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.” 
We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.) 
“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.” 
Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself. 
“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?” 
Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table. 
“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.” 
“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-” 
“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.” 
“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?” 
All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room. 
“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?” 
Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode. 
“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?” 
Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus. 
“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides. 
“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head. 
“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended. 
“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both. 
“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick. 
There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following. 
“Harry?” 
“Ellie?” 
“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes. 
“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick. 
“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing. 
Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.
Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing. 
“Oh- H, Sorry!” 
Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage. 
“I’m so sorry Harry I-” 
“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!” 
Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little. 
He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different. 
In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me. 
“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back. 
Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.
. . . . . 
“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.” 
Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily. 
It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy. 
“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry. 
Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into. 
The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter. 
I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night -  incidentally beside Harry -  I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock. 
As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him. 
“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies. 
“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again. 
“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”
“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?” 
“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.” 
There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile. 
“What’s wrong?” 
He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts. 
“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.” 
I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up. 
“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one. 
“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.” 
“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?” 
“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?” 
I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket. 
“I know exactly what you mean, H.” 
The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm. 
Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again. 
“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides. 
“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit. 
“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago. 
“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore. 
“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant. 
“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?
Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser. 
“Then stay.” 
“Harry-”
“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.” 
. . . . . 
“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway. 
His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end. 
“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face. 
“And you’re almost six foot!” 
“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.” 
I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring. 
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough. 
“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.” 
The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again. 
“Mamma Mia two?” He asks. 
I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry. 
He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again. 
. . . . .
“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm. 
I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine. 
“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side. 
“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before? 
Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa. 
“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen. 
“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.” 
Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention. 
“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.
“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.” 
. . . . .  
Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all. 
In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already. 
I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all. 
Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden  doors of Blondies. 
He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner. 
“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?” 
Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him. 
“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly. 
“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”
“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?” 
“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.” 
He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say. 
“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”
Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.
“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.” 
“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”  
He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften. 
“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure. 
“How do you mean?” 
“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-” 
“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.” 
“I’m glad.” He beams.
“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry. 
Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all  rather unsuccessfully. 
“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?” 
“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?” 
“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’” 
I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing. 
“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’” 
“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?” 
“See you soon.” 
Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much. 
. . . . . 
Unknown Number 
‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’ 
I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago. 
I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone. 
‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’ 
With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up. 
Me
‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.” 
Harry
‘Read my mind love.’
‘See you in a bit :)’ 
I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all. 
. . . . . 
“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!” 
“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?” 
I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.
“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?” 
“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends. 
“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years. 
“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?” 
“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.” 
He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us. 
“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.” 
“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.
Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech. 
. . . . .
 The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches. 
“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.” 
Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me. 
“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.” 
“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?” 
“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.” 
I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood. 
“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.” 
We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens. 
“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats. 
We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition. 
. . . . . 
“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..” 
“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.” 
He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.
“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?” 
“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?” 
He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me. 
“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection. 
I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.
The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter. 
I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits. 
I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed. 
I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.
“Hi.” 
“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-” 
“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.” 
His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips. 
Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.
“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little, 
“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.” 
He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed. 
“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?” 
“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.
“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?” 
“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”
“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?” 
“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.” 
I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open. 
“That’s the plan, love.” 
. . . . . 
When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed. 
The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this. 
I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me. 
I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble: 
“Breakfast?” 
. . . . . 
Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed. 
I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes. 
“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner. 
“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares. 
“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!” 
He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him. 
“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.” 
He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands. 
“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.” 
I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion. 
“What’ve got yeh bag for?” 
“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.
“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on. 
“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-” 
“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.” 
I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space. 
“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-” 
“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.” 
I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm. 
The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start. 
“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road. 
“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”
“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums. 
“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.” 
“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road. 
“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.” 
. . . . . 
“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented. 
“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?” 
“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?” 
“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”
“And nothing’s happened?”  She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.” 
“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.” 
Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed. 
“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.” 
She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth. 
A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said. 
Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine. 
I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine. 
Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction. 
“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes. 
“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him. 
“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me. 
“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing. 
“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo. 
“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend. 
“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.” 
I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact. 
Me 
Meet me at mine x
Harry 
Okay - what was that about? 
Me 
I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor
U might have been right about the jacket :/ 
Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen. 
“Hello?” 
“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?” 
“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.” 
I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec”  before the line goes dead. 
A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly. 
“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.  
“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me. 
“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.” 
“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?” 
“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.” 
“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me. 
“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.” 
Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.
“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”
I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange. 
“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a  time I thought I could lose him. 
“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair. 
“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket. 
“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.” 
“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly. 
“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?” 
“Eleanor would have a field day.” 
Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again. 
“Oh yeah?” He teases. 
“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.” 
“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him. 
“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.” 
Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me. 
“Oh yeah?” 
“Uh huh…” 
“Really..she’d be right about that?” 
“I’m pretty sure-” 
Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep. 
“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.” 
Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder. 
“I like you too H….just a little bit.” 
“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear. 
“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession. 
A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs. 
“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.” 
. . . . .    
“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!” 
She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand. 
I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun. 
We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest  to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north. 
It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him. 
“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer. 
“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest. 
Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning. 
“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group. 
He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him. 
“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy. 
I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear. 
“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction. 
“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.
“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!” 
Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going. 
“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips. 
“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done. 
“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?” 
“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven. 
“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces. 
“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.” 
Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object. 
In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven. 
“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand. 
“Yes dear?”  
“What was that?” 
“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-” 
“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?” 
“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.” 
“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin. 
“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”
“You love me?” 
His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little. 
“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter. 
“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second. 
“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?” 
. . . . .
Hiii I hate the ending :)
Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x
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