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#one of those 'i spent too long on it so im posting it despite not liking it/giving up essentially' moments

simp4wom3n · 2 years

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Requited Love

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Reader

Requested: Yes/No ~ request

Summary: Y/N is cast to play Mia Reed in ‘The Fallout’ and her feelings for her costar, Jenna Ortega, start to resemble those of her characters. Love. ~ Word Count: 1887 ~ Warnings: tiny bit of angst if u squintttttt

A/N: Hello everyone!! Firstly I want to say thank you for all the support shown on my first few posts, and I also wanted to give you guys an update. I’m currently travelling overseas with very busy days so my time for writing is limited but I am writing I PROMISE. This one took a little longer than expected but I hope you enjoy it <3

It's your first day working on the set of ‘The Fallout’, your newest film in which you play Mia Reed. You are a little nervous despite having an impressive collection of films under your belt. When it comes to new sets, new environments, and more importantly new people, you were always anxious about how you would fit in. Your nerves certainly weren’t helped when you learned that Jenna Ortega had joined the cast. You are a huge admirer of hers. Since you've seen pretty much everything she's been in and respect her as an actress, the idea of sharing the screen with her was undeniably daunting.

You pull up to the ‘base camp’ of the film, where all the trailers are located, in an attempt to find yours and get a head start settling in. As you get out of the car your Y/E/C eyes scan the area in search of your trailer, your eyes instead landing on a girl. She appears to be about a foot shorter than you and has long, dark hair. She is dressed in baggy pants and a black singlet with headphones around her neck. Your breath hitches in your throat as you realise, “Holy shit… it’s her oh my god ok” you breathe as you hesitantly start walking in her direction, attempting to calm yourself down. ‘Relax Y/N it’s fine you got this just don’t be weird’.

The sound of your approaching footsteps catch her attention as she turns her head in your direction. Her brown eyes meet yours causing your breath to catch in your throat once again. To your surprise, a genuine smile crosses her face as she too starts walking towards you. “Hey, I’m Y/N. I’m your costar it’s really nice to finally meet you.” you start, giving her a little wave, thrilled you somehow managed to not stumble over your words. “It’s amazing to finally meet you too! I’m Jenna, and I have to say I’m a really big fan of your work” she smiles at you as you feel your cheeks start to burn. Your brain can’t even fathom the idea of THE Jenna Ortega knowing who you are, let alone being a big fan.

“Really?!?” “Of course I am I’ve seen almost everything your in.” she giggles at the disbelief painted all over your face. “And here I thought I was going to be the one fangirling. I’ve also seen pretty much all your stuff and you are incredible. Im still in disbelief that I get to work with you.” you rant, the words flying out of your mouth faster than you ever thought possible. “You are so adorable” she giggles, your cheeks at this point on fire. “Trust me the honour is all mine” she concludes.

You spent the remainder of the day talking to Jenna whilst walking around set, meeting all the important people who you will be working with over the next few weeks. To your delight, whilst exploring the set, you discover that Jenna’s trailer is right next to yours. If there was one thing you were sure of in this moment it was that you couldn’t wait to get to know her better.

*time skip*

You jump as you are awoken suddenly by a loud banging on your trailer door. “Sh*t what the hell” you mumble, rubbing at your tired eyes as you sit up. Your eyes glance towards the clock hanging on your wall, the hands reading 9:17. That’s odd your supposed to be at hair and makeup by 9. “Oh sh*t. I’m coming!” you launch off your trailer couch realising you must have fallen asleep whilst memorising your lines, meaning you didn’t set an alarm. You quickly attempt to fix your disheveled hair as you swing your door open, met with the disappointed glance of your makeup artist. “Sorry! I’m so sorry give me five minutes I’ll be right there I swear” you apologise rapidly, chucking on a random hoodie and running into the bathroom to check you don’t look too much like a corpse.

*small time skip*

Jenna jumps slightly as the door to the makeup trailer swings open, revealing a very cute and disheveled Y/N wearing… wait is that her hoodie? “Morning sleepyhead. I like your hoodie I’m surprised it fits you” Jenna chuckles as you look down and realise that you are actually wearing one of her hoodies. “Huh. I didn’t even notice.” “It looks cute on you” she flirts, your cheeks gaining their familiar warmth, one you often feel when you are around her. You drop into your makeup chair letting out a sigh as you allow your slightly irritated artist to get you ready for your scenes.

“You ready for today?” Jenna asks, smirking as she makes eye contact with you in the mirror. “As always. Why wouldn’t I be?” “We are filming the kiss scene today remember”. As soon as the words left her mouth you felt your stomach drop. “Oh. Right. Yeah I totally forgot about that haha” you chuckle nervously. Being completely honest with yourself, you had been harbouring a crush on Jenna for quite a while now, and whilst the idea of kissing her should fill you with excitement, you can’t help but be terrified. “You okay?” she asks sincerely, noticing the slight change in your demeanour. “Yeah! yeah no I’m fine I just had a rough sleep last night. I feel asleep on my couch memorising my lines so it wasn’t the most pleasant.” you ramble, trying to cover up your nerves, your attempt appearing to work.

“I think the way Megan has set the scene up is really smart.” she says whilst glancing towards you. Noticing the slight confusion on your face she elaborates, “I mean the way she has us kiss whilst we are both lying down. It gets rid of the whole height difference issue. Not that I have anything against it, I love it.” “Good to know” you reply, attempting to diffuse the tension by jokingly winking at her causing her to laugh and quickly hide her face with her hands. ‘Is she flustered?’ ‘Is there a chance she likes me back?’ you thought. However, just as quick as the thoughts came to your mind, you shut them down, ‘No Y/N stop. Don’t get your hopes up’.

*time skip*

“Action!”. You are lying on the floor of Mia’s bedroom as Jenna, or Vada, rolls towards you. You stare deep into her eyes as she can’t stop giggling. Once she finally settles down, her face is only a few inches away from yours. She starts, “What?… ok I know your a woman of very little words… but I know you got some deep shit happening in this nice little head of yours.” she recites her lines perfectly as you giggle on cue. “God… ugh” you sigh. “Anything? Ok. Lets say this. Lets say you die tomorrow, ok, and what if you die sad because you regret not saying what you wanted to say… then what?”.

Those words, although scripted, make your heart sink, because as true as it is, you can’t tell her. You can’t ruin what you have with Jenna over some stupid crush. They say you should always pick roles you relate to, and you hate to agree that you relate to the fear that Mia is feeling right now, absolutely terrified of losing her best friend. You lie there in silence for a few seconds whilst your mind races. “I can’t say it” you whisper, drawing your eyes off of her. “Why?” she immediately responds. You can feel her eyes burning into the side of your face which both comforts and unsettles you.

When you finally pluck up the courage to face her, she looks almost ethereal in the ambient lighting of the room and you regret ever taking your eyes off of her. You aren’t able to seperate your own feelings from your characters, all you feel is love. You notice Jenna glance at your lips, as she is directed to, and the next thing you know she is leaning in. Your heart is racing faster than it ever has before, so much so you are worried she can hear it. When her lips touch yours, you feel warmth blossom in your chest. She pulls away slightly asking “Is this okay?” to which you nod softly. As she connects her lips to mine once more, her lips part slightly allowing my tongue to slip inside. Before I know it she is climbing on top of me, our bodies pressed together as our lips moved passionately against one another’s. Her hands begin exploring your body as your fingers travel through her hair as you breathed her in. It was utter bliss. Until it wasn’t.

“Cut! That was perfect girls well done. The chemistry was amazing, very believable.” “Thanks” you murmur as you seperate yourself from Jenna and get to your feet, avoiding all eye contact with her. “I think we got it guys you can head back to your trailers”. With that you made your way swiftly out of the room, attempting to avoid Jenna’s concerned stare and get to your trailer as quickly as possible. “Y/N! Y/N wait!” Jenna calls from behind you as you hear her rapidly approaching footsteps. She eventually catches up to you, stopping you when she grabs hold of your hand, swinging you around.

“Hey what’s wrong?” she asks, her hand still holding yours with concern written all over her face. You couldn’t help but think about how pretty she looked which didn’t help with your current predicament. “Nothing. I just… I need to be alone right now” you say, turning on your heels attempting to avoid having the conversation you have been dreading. She grabs ahold of your other hand in order to pull you back, not allowing you to avoid her and suffer in silence. “Hey.” she comforts softly “You can talk to me you know. Just tell me what’s wrong we can figure it out together.” “I can’t say it” you quote Mia as a tear rolls down your cheek, the weight of the conversation finally taking its toll on you as the fear of losing your best friend overcomes you.

You witness the moment it clicks in Jenna’s eyes, her gaze immediately softening as she wipes away your stray tear with her thumb. You see her lips twitch into a smile as her hands land on your cheeks, the two of you having a silent conversation with your eyes. Her eyes flicker down to your lips which doesn’t go unnoticed, but before you can comment on it she is guiding your face down to meet hers as her lips brush against yours tentatively. You were taken over by pure desire as you close the remaining distance, leaning into the kiss as you place your hands around her neck. The familiar feeling of her warm lips against yours makes your heart flutter as you begin to comprehend what is happening, she likes you back. Your lips slowly parted as your foreheads remained against each others. “I love you too Y/N” Jenna intimately whispered, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before pulling back completely. “So you really do love the height difference?” you joke, unable to take your eyes off of her. “Of course I do. I love everything about you”.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #the fallout #vada cavell #mia reed #jenna ortega request #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday addams x reader #simp4wom3n

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meow-town · 2 years

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Dee x Fem! Very Girly! Reader

Requested by @grape-flavored-lipgloss !! Took me a while because I wanted to mass-post a bunch of requests, but I really hope you enjoy this! (Pretty long because I adore this idea and went a little bit off of the rails)

Summary : Dee with very girly s/o who wears a lot of pink. The Shvagenbagens don’t necessarily like her at first but she gets them to warm up to her.

-You definitely weren’t the person he expected to fall for. He expected to start liking someone with his style, his taste in music, similar interests. Someone like Lif, to be honest.

-Obviously, you weren’t the person he’d want to date the least. Diana easily takes that spot.

-He recognized your sweetness, and how kind you were. You knew how to dress, and you obvious took care of yourself.

-The science fair was coming up, and teams were assigned for projects. His teacher forgot to sort him into a team, and when they found out, they were both pissed.

-The teacher, cause Dee hadn’t told him anything. And Dee, because now he couldn’t work alone like he wanted to. (Not me basing this off of my dee x reader story)

-Anyways, he got paired up with you and some other kid who didn’t do jack shit to contribute to the project.

-You we’re constantly nice and kind, and never got very aggressive with the other student, despite his laziness. You would give great ideas, constantly be giving words of encouragement to Dee when going through experiments, offer to hold equipment, etc, etc…

-You were a team, which means you all shared a group chat, which means he had your number. (Thankfully he already had it before he started crushing, otherwise he never would’ve worked up the courage to ask you for it).

-Because Dee’s petty as hell, he put credits in the science project so the teacher would know that you and him were the only ones who did work. He deleted the group chat, as well.

-After that, you spent the rest of the science fair with each other. People would crowd around your project stand, amazed. Because, lets be real, it’s Dee. He would explain how it worked, and you shared the thought process behind it. -After that, he invited you to a drink at the vending machines, his treat. What a gentleman.

-You two had a conversation over fizzy sodas (or something else, if you don’t like those) and mostly complained about peers or teachers you hated. It brought you together, to say the least.

-He began to text you more, talk to you more and even choose to spend time with you over Lif! Lif!

-mf didn’t even notice he was crushing on you. He was just looking at you during lunch and it clicked.

-Dee’s internal monologue:

‘Are those new earrings? They look great. I should buy some jewelry for her, I know she likes that one brand. They match perfectly with her makeup. … She looks pretty in that makeup. …Prettier than… anyone else. …

I don’t like her, thought. That’d be weird. She’s just my friend…. A very good friend….A very sweet friend who I can rely on… A very kind friend who just so happens to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, sweet little thing. I don’t like her though, soft as her hair might look and as badly I might want to run my hands through it. Caring as she may be. I don’t like (f/n).

….

HOLY FUCK I LIKE (F/N)’

-The man was too stunned to speak 😦

-When I tell you he turned his head away SO FAST

-His face and neck were as red as a fire truck, and he was starting to sweat bullets.

-He choked on his food.

“Dee? Are you ok?”

-Can’t even face you. His coughing fit was interrupted by small, broken syllables.

“YE *COUGH* YEAH, IM *COUGH* FINE. DONT *COUGH,COUGH* WORRY”

-He went a whole other level of flustered when you started to pat his back. Heart beating at a thousand miles per hour. Palms growing sweatier.

-He couldn’t look at you for a straight WEEK. He avoided you everywhere he went, otherwise the whole blushy routine would start all over again. A part of him wanted to be by your side at all times though, so it was hard for him.

-When he started to hang out with you again, he had to mentally prepare himself for it. Just imagine Dee shouting to himself while he did his makeup every morning.

“Okay, Dee! You will go out there and you will be charming! And handsome! And she will fall for you!”

-Heavy doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he can hear him from his room.

-Heavy already knew you from around school, and wasn’t judgmental of your style or friendship with Dee whatsoever! He though you looked very pretty, too!

-And back onto that, he gave away his brother.

-You were chatting, waiting for Dee to leave his final period. And out of the blue, Heavy went :

“Yeah, he was planning how to ask you out for months now! Never gets it right either.”

“He what?”

“Wait, he hasn’t told you yet?”

“Noooooo..?”

…

-Of course, you kind of figured and told him you also liked him. He’s really obvious. But the second Dee heard his brother had told you he liked you, he was seconds away from choking Heavy the way he did in the 2nd episode.

-He was really grateful once you reciprocated though.

-He asked for a kiss so shyly, too.

-His hands trembled as they cupped your cheeks 💓💥

-Meeting the folks was… interesting -Glam was very polite, he just didn’t expect a person so different from his son would win over his heart. -And I love Victoria, but she was straight up judgemental 😭

-She’s had a bad experience with girly girls, so she’s initially quite defensive. Thankfully, once you’re gone, the kids confront her about it.

“Ma, what is your problem with (f/n)?”

“Yeah! You keep giving her the stink-eye! She’s nice!”

-She gets super nervous and over sensitive. Glam knows about her past problems with girly girls and talks her through it. She’s on much better terms the next time you meet :)

-It gets awkward with the parents, but once you’ve proven to them you won’t hurt their son and that you’re very sweet, they treat you as a child of their own.

-Ches just full-on didn’t believe you were dating. You passed by his shop with Dee and Heavy and he cackled when Heavy told him you were dating. Once things got cleared up, he was very supportive although surprised.”

“Wow, you actually got a girlfriend. And here I thought you were going to be one of those guys who stays a virgin until 40…”

“UNCLE CHES-”

-Lif through your dynamic was super cute and she drew you two together! (Also she’s very glad Dee likes you because she was scared of rejecting the guy)

#metal family #metalfamily #metal family x reader #metal family dee #metal family dee x reader #dee #dee x reader #dee Shvagenbagen #dee Shvagenbagen x reader #dee metal family #dee metal family x reader #metal family headcanons

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bellofthemeadow · 5 months

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Dawn Ends the Night - Interlude

Aemond Targaryen x FemReader (Dayne)

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 3.5K

Warning: All warnings on the Series Masterlist, will update if necessary (Re-iterating, no minors allowed! Thank you)

Chapter Summary: Every morning, at dawn, for the past fortnight you meet Aemond Targaryen. Will today change things for the better between you two?

Notes: Hello everyone!!! I am writing earlier because I had this scene in my head that I could not fit into a regular plot-driven chapter because it was so long. So instead I turned it into a little interlude between chapters 4 and 5. It focuses on our favourite couple and if you have a thing for the whole regency "OMG THEY GRAZE EACH OTHER!" You will like that one. Its a bit angsty but with loads of fluff at the end. Hope you like it and like always LMK what you all think!

Thank you again to all of you who take the time to comment, like and reblog, you are all so kind and I love you all so much!!! 💜💚💜

See you in the next one xxx

Taglist: @duds31 , @snh96, @lol-im-done, @heavenly1927, @whimsywilde , @queen-123s-posts , @httyd-marauders , @singhfae , @nothing-just-hanging-around

At Dawn

In Starfall, you had been a ghost, haunting its ancient halls. You cherished the late hours, those quiet moments under the cover of darkness where the sky was a canvas of stars. To you, each star was not just a celestial spark but a guardian soul, a sentinel silently watching over the world from the heavens – you imagined they were looking after you when you needed them the most. This nightly ritual, however, came at a cost — mornings often found you rising late, the consequence of surrendering to the tranquil embrace of moonlit solitude.

In King's Landing, the luxuries of being a ghost were behind you. Now, well before the first golden rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon, with the dawn barely painting the sky in hues of timid pink and soft orange, Prince Aemond would be at your door ready to eat his morning meal in your company.

Yawning, you gathered your hair, weaving it into a simple yet elegant half-up, half-down style. It framed your face in a way you found particularly becoming. But these early hours beckoned for self-sufficiency as you didn’t wish to disturb your handmaiden at such a time. Thus, you had grown accustomed to readying yourself alone in the quiet of dawn, opting for dresses that required no assistance to don. Today, you chose one of your favorites, a dress perhaps a tad too short by King’s Landing standards, ending mid-calf. Its design was a mixture of airy fabrics and light silks that embraced your form in a flattering caress, and its deep blue hue complemented your complexion beautifully.

Gently, you pressed your fingers to your cheeks, coaxing a rosy flush to the surface. Despite the early hour, it was important to you to look and feel your best. Right on schedule, the familiar, soft knocking at the door signaled his arrival, accompanied by a gentle, "My lady," floating through the wood. A smile spread across your face at the sound. Each dawn spent with Aemond only deepened your desire to spend more time in his company. To learn all you could about this dragonrider, this will-be husband.

You gave yourself a final glance in the mirror before sauntering towards the door. With a playful lilt in your voice, you called out, "And who might be serenading my door at this ungodly hour?"

From the other side came Aemond's mock-serious reply, "My lady, should there be another suitor at your door at this time, I fear I must step in to defend my betrothed honor. A fight to the death perhaps?"

Your laughter rang out, rich and unrestrained, as you swung the door open. Leaning casually against the frame, hand perched on your hip, you greeted him teasingly, "Ah, what a sight – A fierce dragon graces my doorstep."

Aemond rolled his eye, the man teetering between amusement and exasperation, before offering a polite bow of his head. Over his shoulder, you caught sight of Perros, his expression a perfect study in stoic disapproval. Ever since these dawn meetings with Aemond had become a routine, Perros had appointed himself your unofficial chaperone. Chaperoning had never been a tested custom of Dornish culture, but due to his protective nature, Perros had still not warmed up one bit to the idea of the betrothal, even after a fortnight under the Targaryen royal roof and he was looking for anything to hold against Aemond.

You stepped aside, allowing room for Aemond and Perros to enter. Perros, ever the vigilant guardian, promptly made his way to his usual spot in the corner. There, he brooded, his gaze sharp and watchful, tracking every interaction between you and Aemond with hawk-like intensity.

You recalled a morning some days ago when Aemond, in a rare moment of clumsiness, had spilled some jam on your sleeve. His instinctive move to dab it away had provoked an instantaneous reaction from Perros, who leapt to his feet, his voice laced with protective fervor as he reprimanded you both for the supposedly improper contact. The moment had ended with you and Aemond awkwardly distancing yourselves, while Perros took up a stern post at your table on the small balcony, arms crossed in silent disapproval. Aemond had sported a look of utter vexation, his face tinged with a hint of pink, huffing, while you couldn't help but shoot a glare at Perros for his overzealous protectiveness.

You led Aemond to the quaint table on the balcony, its surface crowded with an assortment of dishes. Your taste buds, having grown accustomed to the vibrant spices and flavors of Dorne, found the typical Westerosi cuisine rather uninspiring. Consequently, you had developed a preference for simpler fare – delicate cakes accompanied by soft Vale cheese and a sweet red-berry jam from the Reach, as you could not stomach anything else. If you were to live here, you would need to have a cook brought from Sunspear, you thought.

As you both settled into your seats, a serene quietude enveloped the balcony. The early morning light cast a soft glow on Aemond, accentuating his regal features and rendering him even more striking than usual. You caught yourself momentarily captivated by his appearance and quickly composed yourself. It wouldn't do to let on just how much your betrothed affected you.

"I trust you had a restful night, Prince Aemond?" you inquired softly, putting some berries on your plate.

"Fairly restful," Aemond replied, spreading cheese over a slice of bread. "However, I was somewhat vexed last night. I had intended to read 'The History of Dragon Anatomy' from the library, only to find it had already been taken out. The Maester there mentioned a young lady had taken it just after dinner. Curious, since I had expressed my interest in that very book earlier in the day, to that same lady."

You glanced at him coyly. "How frustrating for you. Perhaps this lady simply wished to delve into subjects that intrigue you, my prince."

Aemond let out a thoughtful hum, carefully layering jam on another slice of bread before placing it on your plate. "And..." he prompted.

"And what, my prince?" you asked, feigning innocence.

"Did you find the book to your liking?" Aemond's tone was casual, but his eye held a playful glint as he took a bite of his cheesy bread.

Your gaze lingered on Aemond as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing quite attractively. The sight inexplicably left your own throat feeling parched.

"The book was quite fascinating," you commented, "Particularly the chapter on dragon scales and their resistance to various metals. In Dorne, we don't have many resources on dragons, so it was a nice change of literature."

Aemond let out a soft scoff. "I imagine not. It would not be wise to provide our enemies with knowledge about how to defeat our dragons. Some would probably say it would be insanity"

Your eyebrows drew together in a frown. "Enemies?"

Aemond paused, meeting your gaze with a hint of uncertainty. "Old enemies, perhaps. You must understand the strategic folly in sharing dragon lore with those who have historically sought to bring them down. Our betrothal itself hinges on the long-standing enmity between Dorne and Targaryen’s dragons."

You bristled at his words. "Perhaps if dragons were not made to attack and lay claim to our lands, the sentiment towards them in Dorne would be different!"

Aemond's eye narrowed, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. "House Targaryen united Westeros by right of conquest. We are neither thieves nor invaders."

"Right of conquest?" you echoed incredulously. "Dorne was never conquered. Your ancestors never succeeded in bringing Dorne under their rule!"

Breakfast now lay neglected as you both locked gazes, each unwilling to yield, to be the first to lower the proverbial banner.

Aemond broke the silence with a measured tone, "Well, here you are now, in King's Landing. So, perhaps the past should remain just that."

Your response was edged with a hint of bitterness. "There's no need to remind me of my place here, Prince Aemond. Your views on my people, and by extension on me, seem quite clear. It must be such a burden to align your esteemed dragon lineage with mine.”

Aemond's eye flickered slightly, a shadow of discomfort crossing his face. "You exaggerate, my lady. I did not imply any such thing."

"Of course, my apologies," you replied, the sharpness in your voice unmistakable. Gathering his plate, you stacked it atop yours, a clear signal of the meal's end. "I trust your breakfast was satisfactory, Prince Aemond. However, I need to prepare for the day. I promised your sister I would meet with her."

Aemond seemed momentarily taken aback, his composed facade faltering. "But we've only just begun, and you've yet to enjoy your favorite jam. Why leave so abruptly?"

"I wouldn't want to impose any longer," you said, your tone firm yet polite. "It might be best for you to leave now Prince Aemond."

A thick silence enveloped the room, heavy with unvoiced sentiments. Prince Aemond, his jaw set in a firm line, rose abruptly from his seat. His movements were rigid, each step resonating with barely restrained anger as he made his way to the door. Upon reaching the threshold, he paused, turning to face you with a stiff, formal inclination of his head. "My lady," he uttered, his voice a strained whisper of formality. Then, with a swift motion, he opened the door and exited, the slam echoing with a finality that reverberated through the room. The resounding closure seemed loud enough to stir the entire wing, making you flinch.

Seated alone at the table, you gazed out towards the horizon, where the sun had begun to cast a golden glow over the morning sky. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you leaned forward, resting your head on your crossed arms atop the table. A soft groan of frustration echoed the turmoil within.

Had you overreacted? Aemond's words about Dorne's historical enmity with the Targaryens weren't unfounded, but his tone, dismissive and tinged with superiority, had struck a nerve. Your Dornish pride, a deep-rooted part of your identity, felt belittled in his presence. It was as if he had trampled upon the history and struggles of your people, reducing them to mere irritants in the grand Targaryen narrative.

Perhaps your reaction had been too impulsive, or maybe your expectations of Aemond were too lofty. The romantic notions you’d harbored, fueled by the tales and books you’d devored in Starfall, seemed naive now in the harsh light of the morning. Yet, Aemond’s daily visits, those moments that had started to become a cherished routine, suggested that maybe there was something more. Had you misconstrued his intentions, read too much into what was merely a princely obligation? The very thought of it twisted in your chest. You were confused and could feel a strange feeling of longing coiling deep within your stomach.

"My lady?" The concern in Perros's voice pulled you from your introspective reverie.

"Mmm?" you hummed, your voice muffled against your arms, still not lifting your head.

"Are you well, my lady?" He inquired gently, worry edging in his tone.

"You must be feeling vindicated," you said, lifting your head to meet Perros's gaze, your laughter tinged with a hint of bitterness. "It seems Prince Aemond has made his views about me quite clear."

Perros regarded you with a steady, thoughtful look. "I've never been fond of him, true. He's too princely, too arrogant. He's not worthy of you," he admitted, and you couldn't help but let out a small, teary chuckle.

"I guess now is the perfect time for your 'I told you so,'" you remarked wryly.

"But," Perros cut in, his tone shifting, "I can't ignore how he looks at you. From the very first day we arrived, he's been drawn to you like a moth to a flame. It's like you're the Maiden reborn in his eyes. And..” Perros took a breath for effect, "I suppose I might have judge the prince too harshly too... I was not to tell you, but Prince Aemond has been joining Davos and me during our training sessions in the yard.”

"He has?" You exclaimed, turning to face Perros - The image of Aemond, a prince of the realm, spending his time with little davos was a stark contrast to the man you had argued with only moments ago.

"Yes," Perros nodded. "He's been taking time to teach Davos the basics of swordplay. You should see the boy's face light up. The prince has a way with him, showing patience I didn't think possible. It's as if he sees something of himself in Davos. The lad's been boasting about it to anyone who'll listen, his chest puffed up with pride. Keep saying it’ll go to his head, but the lad is excited, the prince even said he’d show him that great beast of his. "

A thoughtful frown creased your forehead. "But why keep it a secret? Why didn't Aemond mention it? Why didn't Davos?"

Perros shrugged slightly, a faint smile touching his lips. "I suspect the prince isn't doing it for praise or recognition. Maybe he just wanted to help, to do something good without any fanfare. It's not something I expected from him, but with all my years, I’ve learned that people, even princes, can stil surprise us."

As you pondered his words, Perros placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding. "Speak with him, my lady," Perros advised gently, his voice carrying a wisdom born of years. "Whether he's a princely dragon or not, it's always better to clear the air, especially with matters of the heart.”

You offered a small, contemplative smile. "Perhaps you're right, Perros. I might just do that."

Just then, a series of knocks echoed at the door, you released a weary sigh, wondering aloud, "Do you think that the noise might have woken up mother?"

Perros straightened, ready to take action. "Shall I see who it is, my lady?"

"No, no, it's alright," you quickly responded, waving a hand dismissively. "It's probably mother, or Gerris and Davos. They have this habit of barging into my room to start their day. They find it amusing, I suppose."

But as you opened the door, it was neither your mother, nor Gerris, nor Davos – Standing before you was Aemond. His usually neatly styled hair was slightly disheveled, as if he had been anxiously running his fingers through it, and his solitary eye, usually so sharp and focused, now held a wild, almost frantic quality as he gazed at you

Finally breaking the silence, you found your voice ; “Prince Aemond?”

You were momentarily caught off guard as Aemond pulled you into his arms, his embrace firm yet cautious, tentative as though he was handling something precious and fragile. His body, usually so rigid and imposing, now enveloped you with a breath-stealing, protective warmth, contrasting sharply with the slightness of your own form.

His face buried in your hair, Aemond seemed to be seeking a sort of solace, his breath slow and deep. You could feel the slight quiver in his chest and for a moment, you stood there, unsure, your body rigid in his embrace. But as he inhaled, as if drawing strength from your presence, you felt a surge of want wash over you.

Tentatively, your arms wound around his back, your touch light, almost hesitant. The contours of his body under your fingers felt like the unyielding walls of a fortress, yet there was a tenderness in his hold that belied his outward appearance. The sensation of his breath warming the nape of your neck sent a shiver down your spine, and his voice, thick with emotion, resonated against your soft skin. "I am sorry for my words, my lady. They were careless and unkind," he murmured, his tone laced with a rare vulnerability. "Please, I am sorry. I ask for your forgiveness, but more than that, I beg you, do not shut me out. Not when I feel like I have only begun to know you."

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if fearing you might slip away, his voice a soft whisper against your hair. "You have every right to turn away from me, yet I find myself selfishly hoping you will not. In you, I've seen a kindness, a strength that I have longed for. Please, my lady, grant me the chance to prove that I am more than my harsh words and hasty judgments."

Nestling closer into his hold, you felt a wave of understanding wash over you. "Perhaps I, too, was quick to judge," you admitted softly. "Your words, though harsh, weren't entirely unfounded. Our kingdoms have been locked in conflict for so long, and both have suffered greatly. It's just that..." You paused, taking a deep breath, grappling with the words that lay heavy on your heart. "I understand the reasons for our union – duty, family, the realm, the crown. But still..." Your voice trailed off, laden with unspoken hopes and fears.

Aemond gently lifted his head from yours, their foreheads meeting in a tender, earnest touch. For the first time since your encounter, you were close, close enough to see the subtle hues in his remaining eye, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. "I too wish for more, my lady, more than you could possibly imagine," he confessed, his voice a soft echo of your own longing.

A timid smile touched your lips, a flicker of the young woman who once dreamt under the stars, the girl who laughed freely. "Back in Starfall, they used to say I was like a ghost. After Gerris was announced as the future lord, I lost a part of myself. I never thought I'd find that girl again – the one who could marvel at the stars, who loved to read and laugh without care." Your smile grew, a hint of old joy resurfacing. "But with you, Aemond... when I'm with you, I feel as if... as if I'm finding her again."

Aemond's smile, a rare and genuine thing, mirrored your own. "And I," he confessed, "feel something I feared was long lost in me too."

Perros's conspicuous throat-clearing echoed in the room, startling both of you into stepping apart, faces flushed with the sudden intensity of the moment. You shot Perros a glare, one that he met with a raised eyebrow and a look that managed to be both unimpressed and protective.

Aemond, regaining his composure with a soft cough, glanced toward the door. "I must take my leave, my lady. Ser Criston awaits me in the training yard, and I dare not keep my sister from you company as she probably awaits you for her early morning beetle hunt," he said.

Your smile returned, a gentle curve of lips that hinted at the warmth you felt inside. "Of course, my prince. Dawn tomorrow then?"

Aemond hesitated, an unusual shyness in his demeanor as he paused at the door. "Actually, I was wondering if I might join you in the afternoon? You spend time with your brother and Davos then, right?"

"Oh, you needn't trouble yourself. Heleana usually takes the twins along, and we all enjoy the gardens together," you explained.

He hummed thoughtfully. "Nevertheless, I would like to be there. To spend time with those you care about."

A genuine smile graced your face. "Then after midday it is."

As Aemond began to exit, he paused once more, turning slightly toward you. "And perhaps after dinner, I could meet you in the library? I could show you more books about dragons. I read them all as a child."

Your smile deepened, warmth spreading through you at the thought. "I would be delighted to receive literary recommendations from the realm's most renowned dragon rider."

Aemond's response was a shy smile, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He nodded silently, a gesture that spoke volumes of his growing affection, before finally stepping out of the room.

Left in the quiet room, you felt an unfamiliar sensation, a fluttering lightness in your chest, like a bird cautiously testing its wings after a long confinemen. With a dreamy smile lingered on your lips, you turned to face Perros, who stood near the small table, you caught the hint of a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes held a mix of amusement and something softer that you had trouble deciphering, perhaps a reluctant acceptance of the scene he had just witnessed.

With a mock groan, you raised your hand, preempting any comments he might have. "Do not say anything, Perros."

His smile broadened, but he raised his hands in mock surrender. "I wouldn't dream of it, my lady," he replied teasingly.

Shaking your head with a mix of exasperation and fondness, you moved past Perros towards the door. "I have a busy day ahead," you remarked, "And it seems I now have plans for after dinner as well."

Next chapter

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spacexseven · 1 year

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Okok so I have an idea that just came to mind and I wanna know what you think about this

So I was thinking about darling in subordinate au what if they had a crush on dazai/chuuya (or both) at the beginning? I'd imagine they'd get bullied so badly for this

Tbh this is kinda like one of your posts with the yanderes going after a darling they previously rejected

Im gonna do chuuya for this because…i have a feeling i’ve discussed something about liking dazai for this au before…?

it’s easy to be fooled by chuuya at first sight, when you only notice his soft smile from a far distance away. and maybe, because of all the time you spent being crushed under dazai’s heel, it’s even easier to create a fantasy version of him in your head, and fall for him—hard. you tell yourself that if you worked hard enough, dazai would eventually have to let you go, or maybe if he gets tired of you, he’ll shift you over to someone else, maybe even chuuya. you liked to believe that he wouldn’t be so cruel and condescending, just for the little solace your imagination brought you. you liked to believe he would be a better boss, and an even better friend.

of course, all your hopes are dashed when you actually meet him. for starters, chuuya rarely let go of his deep scowl, especially around you and dazai. suddenly, he was so much more intimidating, and the callous way he treated you, whether out of irritation or just because he knew kind treatment would only get dazai angry, only served to make you more terrified. he glares at you, and his words are sharp, painful; like he knows exactly how to get to you. this was far from the chuuya you saw all those days ago. dazai’s perceptive enough to catch on to your longing looks and the droop in your shoulders, and he’s simultaneously amused and annoyed by it. was he giving you so little work that you had time to be catching feelings?

regardless, you suffer. you bury yourself in the work dazai gives you in a pathetic attempt at trying to ignore the heartbreak, and the less you see chuuya, the easier it gets. you foolishly believe that that would be the end of it.

while you’re busy trying to make sure you don’t die while completing the tasks assigned to dazai, you fail to realize that someone else has noticed the lack of your presence. perhaps it’s because chuuya has begun to see you like an extension of dazai; the tail of his shadow, but it felt unnatural to see the taller man prance around the building without you dragging your feet behind him. he would have been stupid to not notice you gawking over him, and chuuya was far too perceptive to miss the dejected expression on your face every time you got remotely close to him, but he just didn’t care. it didn’t matter to him that you probably just wanted a friend—everyone here were barely managing to look out for themselves, let alone make friends, but the part that bothered him the most was how small you looked beside dazai. chuuya was no stranger to witnessing dazai’s more sadistic side, but somehow, he was infuriated by the thought that you could only ever obey the fool’s orders if you wanted to live. it bothered him even more that he couldn’t involve himself in any way, but he wouldn’t be caught dead pitying you. you deserved better than his pity. admiration, maybe for making it this far despite the cruel circumstances. sympathy, because he knew how hard it could be to deal with dazai, but not pity.

somewhere along the way, his feelings of admiration and sympathy and something else turns into a strange fascination, shows as an unexpected interest. he has an eye out for you all the time, just to make sure you aren’t dead in a ditch somewhere. his angry cursing focuses more on dazai and not on you. instead you’re graced with a strange half-smile, if only for a moment. some of the black lizard member, the ones who pick on you—dazai’s pet, as they like to call you, jeering—are found brutally beaten, half-dead and silent despite all demands to know who the attacker was. dazai giggles as he tells you this, like he knows something you don’t. then his voice goes cold and he reminds you that you’re only safe by his side, as his pet. better the devil you know, right? (not that you’d ever claim to know dazai). even mori regards you with slight apprehension, as if in disbelief over something.

the question remains unasked; how did you, measly little thing, cause so much trouble?

chuuya’s acts go unnoticed by you, in fact, you don’t spare him the light of day, more on edge by dazai’s warnings and the strange way everyone seems to watch you. his attempts at conversation register to you as veiled threats, and you’re far too frightened by him to spend even a moment more lingering around him once you sense his presence. maybe the distance should disappoint him, but chuuya’s vague interest in you hasn’t developed that far yet. besides, it’s not too bad to watch over you from afar.

once it does get worse, though, chuuya will try to clear up the misunderstandings. he demands for more of your time, insists that dazai can’t make use of you, stands up for you publicly and makes it clear that he disapproves of dazai’s treatment of you. anything to make you realize his intentions.

#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader #yandere bsd #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bungo stray dogs #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere chuuya x reader #yandere chuuya nakahara #yandere chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #subordinate au 🐟#bsd 🐟#chuuya 🐟#drabble 🐟#ask 🐟#oops kinda rambled #unedited !!

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thestobingirlie · 8 months

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i don't ship stancy, im mostly indifferent to it, but i really don't get the lengths some anti-stancies, nancy stans (especially the ones that are massively anti steve), or r*nance shippers go to to discredit the stuff that happened in s4

"theyve been broken up for years" theyve been broken up for less than 18 months. Early November 84- late march 86 is about 17 months. Less than a year and a half. That's not long enough to qualify for the plural of "years". Saying that they've been broken up for years makes it seem like steve's in his 20s or 30s and is still pining over 'the one that got away' from high school. not a teenager that still has feelings for someone he's been broken up with for less than two years. its implied that nancy was his first 'serious' relationship. and based on what we know of his dating history post s2, his only serious relationship. its not unusual for there to still be some feelings there.

"steve wants to force nancy to have six kids even though she doesn't want kids/ a family." first nancy never said she didn't want kids/ a family, shes said she doesn't want to turn into her parents. steve never said he wanted nancy to birth six kids for him. he said he had a dream of having five or six kids and that nancy was there beside him. the number of kids doesn't matter. its him saying that he wants kids and to be a present dad. he wants a family and also doesn't want to turn into his parents, as its heavily implied that he's an only child with not great parents. Nancy said his dream sounded nice other than the six kids part. a more manageable number like maybe three kids could be the balance that would work for them.

"steve tried to get nancy to cheat on Jonathan despite knowing she was happy in their relationship." steve confessed his feelings to her in a life or death situation, after shed been showing some signs of being interested. he never said he wanted her to leave jonathan or that he expected her to just jump into his arms. he said he still had feelings for her in a high stress situation. and much of jancy's relationship in s4 doesn't read as happy. they've been together for 16-17 months, and almost half of that they've been in an ldr and they've had communication issues since before jonathan moved away.

sorry for they longs ask this is just something that's bugging me because i keep seeing this in the steve tag

i truly think so many anti stancies just hate steve, and that’s why all of their “explanations” just try to make steve look bad.

like saying it’s been years since they broke up. it’s been about a year and a half! and like you said, it’s pretty much his only serious relationship. according to joe keery, she’s the first girl to really listen to him. and he hasn’t had someone (romantically) like that since. steve was nancy’s first love (again, according to natalia). it wasn’t just some short thing. it was a serious relationship at a very emotional time.

also, i personally doubt that steve’s spent that year just pining for nancy, but they’re in a life and death situation, and i think all those feelings they left behind just came rushing back. they never truly got closure. it’s natural that being together, and fighting side by side and depending on each other would make everything between them come to the surface.

ugh the six kid thing is the bane of my existence (again, people use it to try to make steve seem weird, and pushy, and demanding). it’s so clearly a reference to the party lmao. like you said, nancy never said she doesn’t want kids, she said she doesn’t want to be stuck in a miserable relationship because that’s what everyone expects (which sounds more like s4 jancy tbh). and the crucial part of steve’s confession is that nancy is the most important part. not the kids. not the travelling. but nancy by his side. what matters to steve is that there’s love. which is what’s important to nancy too.

(and yeah. they ain’t having six kids LMAO)

yes!!! can people not confess feelings anymore without being accused of homewrecking two teenagers lol? he never said he wants them broken up. he thinks he may die!!! he wants it off his chest!!! nancy was, imo, the first to start the flirting, and steve figured… why not!

honestly couldn’t have said this all better myself.

#stancy #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #stranger things #asks #anon

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wooahaes · 2 years

Text

to dye for

pairing: non-idol!woozi x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 4/13

word count: 2.4k

warnings: small bit of angst over jihoon thinking he doesn’t have a soulmate. jihoon gets kinda yelled at for dyeing his hair.

daisy’s notes: ok ignore the fact im posting this not even a full day later and also the fact the ending is bad!! a girl is trying rn.

summary: Jihoon doesn’t have a soulmate. He’s positive. He’s never shown the signs before. And yet one lost bet against Soonyoung results in dyed hair and a surprise the next morning…

For a really long time, Jihoon had been positive he didn’t have a soulmate. His parents had comforted him over it (which, at age ten, made him feel... weird. Lost. Like he was broken). It felt weirder when he grew up, listening to classmates talk about their signs. Weirder in college, where he watched people run into their soulmates or make an active effort in finding them. And maybe it started to stop feeling so bad when he met his current circle of friends, who, despite their initial efforts, began to let him cope with his feelings as he needed to: through his music.

They initially had tried to tell him that soulmates were overrated--Soonyoung later ended up confiding in him that he hadn’t shown any signs, and neither did Vernon or Seokmin--and that plenty of people didn’t have a soulmate and were fine on their own. Jihoon shouldn’t feel incomplete (which, actually, Jihoon never said?) or alone because he wasn’t: he had his friends, and he could always date later on if he chose to. Maybe the comfort was a little misguided and something he hadn’t asked for, but he could appreciate it. That conversation happened long before three members of their friend circle found their soulmates, the most recent having been two months ago. That led to questions, and listening to those questions led to other people (namely the ones without signs) to get a little too caught up in thoughts.

There was comfort in knowing they weren’t alone, though. Soonyoung had confessed to Jihoon that he was glad that, if he didn’t have a soulmate, that maybe the other people in the circle would help him feel more normal. It wasn’t as lonely an existence if you had other people with the same circumstance. It hurt, though: Jihoon could see how starry-eyed Soonyoung would get over the idea of a soulmate.

And, honestly, Jihoon couldn’t lie: he knew he spent too much time checking his skin for words, for a name, or pinching himself and hoping to feel someone else pinch back or to taste what they’re eating or to start missing colors. Maybe he was a late bloomer. He never voiced those things to anyone, and he never planned on it. If the others believed he didn’t care about having a soulmate, then it was fine. He could be fine like that. The idea of someone being built-in to love you was... hard to swallow, after all. Love took time. Despite the way that Seungkwan seemed to claim that he and his soulmate were getting along perfectly from day one (Vernon had given him a weird look that quickly disproved that statement), Jihoon knew that you had to fall in love with someone slowly, the way Wonwoo and his soulmate seemed to be moving. So he had focused his energy elsewhere in the meantime, working on his music throughout his entire life.

It gave him something to do. He never heard anyone sing back when he sang, though, so mark that one off the list. He sang often enough to himself that his soulmate should have sung something back so he knew they were alive. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Are you sure you want to do this?“ Joshua asked for the third time that night, mixing up developer with the lightener.

It wasn’t as if he could go back now, products already open and mixed, but Jihoon could appreciate the check-in.

“I can always just bleach someone else’s hair,” he said, pulling the gloves on. “I’m sure Mingyu would be okay with it. He’s been wanting to go blonde for a while--”

“It’s fine,” Jihoon said, looking at the box of bright pink dye in his hands. One lost bet against Soonyoung and of course it’d be the one that’d result in him dyeing his hair. He’d already donned one of Joshua’s old shirts just to keep from ruining his own clothes. “Just do it.”

Joshua nodded, and began to section out parts of his hair. “You really got unlucky with this one,” he hummed, already beginning to apply the bleach to the end of his hairs. “But you’re also really lucky that I’ve done this enough times for Jeonghan that I won’t fry your hair.”

He resisted the urge to nod, just humming in acknowledgement as Joshua continued to work carefully. Loser had to dye their hair the color of the winner’s choice, and Soonyoung had spent approximately half a second before grabbing cotton candy pink off the shelf when he saw it. The bet was stupid, but it was.. whatever at this point. No point in dwelling on it. All of their friends were sitting out in the living room, waiting as Soonyoung likely entertained the crowd while Jihoon sat through this bleaching process. Joshua sang softly under his breath the same lyrics that he had been working on with Jihoon for the past few weeks whenever Joshua wasn’t busy with work.

“You went too high,” Jihoon said offhandedly, trying to distract himself from the box dye in his hands. He left his phone out in the other room, and he already knew that Soonyoung was probably filling it with silly dumb selfies that Jihoon would delete half of before filing the rest away for blackmail (and maybe a little bit because that was his best friend, too--he’d made one dumb rap song with Soonyoung before just to tease Seungcheol, after all).

Joshua merely chuckled as he continued to work, finishing the application at his roots. “So... Do you wanna go back out while it’s setting--”

“No.”

Joshua laughed. “I’ll grab your phone so you can do something,” he said, setting aside everything. “Then we’ll go pink, alright?”

He just nodded, watching Joshua disappear from the bathroom before he let out a sigh. The bleach burned and smelled like shit, but there was no going back at this point. He could already see the way his hair was lightening. Soonyoung better watch his ass if the pink looked awful on him. Jihoon could hear someone laughing--Junhui’s laugh, Jihoon was positive that he knew it anywhere--in the other room. He could hear the muffled sound of Joshua calling out for someone to give him Jihoon’s phone, someone else laughing (Seungcheol, Jihoon thought, but he wasn’t positive because whoever it was was farther away from the bathroom than Jun and it was harder to hear). The door opened a moment later.

“He’s not coming out until it’s done,” Joshua called back over his shoulder, before stepping back in. He handed over Jihoon’s phone before sinking down to sit on the floor, pulling out his own. “Soonyoung had it,” he said. “Just so you know.”

Jihoon set his contact photo to the stupidest selfie that Soonyoung took. “You don’t have to stay in here.”

“It’s fine,” Joshua said. “I’ve gotta keep an eye on it anyway. For what it’s worth... I think it’ll look good,” he said. Jihoon glanced up to see Joshua already smiling at him, eyes lit up with that mischievous look he’d get whenever he was around Jeonghan. “Pink might be your color.”

The next half hour was spent in relative quiet, aside from the occasional talk of the song they were working on. Lyrical changes Jihoon wanted to make to make things flow smoother, the guiding track he was almost done working on. Joshua could come up any time and get in the booth and get his part of the work over with, and Jihoon was happy to work with him. It’d come soon enough. The bleach was washed out soon enough, Joshua humming to himself again.

Joshua knew this process well enough, apparently. Soon enough they’d dried his hair completely and Jihoon was watching him mix up the pink dye. His hair was covered in it again, and he stared at the pink stains along his skin as Joshua started to clean them up.

“It’ll look good,” he promised again.

Jihoon shut his eyes as Joshua helped wash out that second round of dye. He was never taking stupid bets again. Even if the sound of the group losing their shit at his new hair color, dried and styled with the help of Joshua, was amusing to hear. Even Seungcheol, who couldn’t see the exact color (and started shouting for people to take pictures because he wanted to see it, and he would), made Jihoon laugh.

Maybe he’d keep it until his roots started coming back in. He promised at least a full week with it. He’d have to steal Soonyoung’s color-safe shampoo, but it’d be fine. Soonyoung owed him that at least.

The two returned home after a night of drinks and games with their friends, and Jihoon took one last look at himself after running through his nightly routine before he started to fiddle with his hair. It looked good. He honestly kind of liked it, if he was being honest. He ruffled his hair a little more, and resolved to find away to make it look better in the morning.

And then he woke up to his hair dyed a completely different color--a more natural shade than the bright ass pink he’d had--and Jihoon suddenly realized that he had a soulmate.

He grabbed Soonyoung and made an appointment at whatever place would take him that same day to dye his hair another color. Fuck waiting. It might be a dick move, especially if you went out and spend good money erasing the aftermath of a lost bet on his end, but you could be mad at him once you found each other. A place took the appointment, and soon enough he was sitting in a chair listening to Soonyoung joke that Jihoon should thank him with dinner that night since he wouldn’t have discovered his sign without him.

(He’d do that, in the end, because Soonyoung... did deserve something. Jihoon was fully ready to go his entire life with his natural color, and unless you decided to dye your hair, he’d never find out you were out there.)

He went bleach blonde again, and then bright red. He could stand out in crowds like that, if he was lucky enough that you were in the city. When it was dyed back days later, he went bright purple. Again, and he kept it bright yellow. Any loud and proud sign that he was right there and looking for you. Someone joked that all it took was one bet with Soonyoung for Jihoon to decide he liked dyeing his hair. They shut up immediately when he made it clear that his soulmate would have the same shade and to stop whoever they had to for him. Everyone promised to keep a look out, and he was more than thankful. Someone had thought they found you, but the shades of green were too far off: his was neon, the other person’s was a little too dark.

He did meet her, though, and wished her well. She told him to keep looking. They’d find their soulmates eventually. Jihoon let himself hold onto that hope for once.

Before his appointments, he started going to beauty stores in order to get ideas on what color to go next. It felt silly to repeat colors so soon, and he was torn between maybe bright orange to replace the pastel blue he’d settled on before. You hadn’t dyed your hair again, but Jihoon was waiting for it. He was thankful for soulmate discounts, the documented pictures of his hair being dyed back too quick while his hair stayed healthy enough to prove that this was a soulmate thing, otherwise his bank account would be hurting too hard for him to keep doing this.

He pulled up his phone, snapping a picture of the oranges he was debating between. He’d send it into the group chat to get a second opinion. He could hear the door to the store chime from where he stood, and he started typing out his message.

“YOU.”

Jihoon looked to see... you. You, standing there at the end of the aisle with the same bright blue hair, were fuming. He could see the cashier already nervous, leaning forward enough to see him as you made your approach.

“You absolute fucking dick. Do you know how mortifying it is to be in the middle of a meeting when your hair starts turning platinum blonde?! My coworkers wouldn’t stop laughing because I got stuck with the schmuck who has a weird thing for dyeing his hair! They keep looking at me weird because I tried to cover it up the first few times before my boss told me to stop killing my hair!” You balled your fists, and Jihoon could say nothing as you let out a groan. “It’s bullshit! I mean, okay, cool, we found each other because of this, but I can’t keep going to work like this!” You motioned toward your hair. “I need people to take me seriously!”

Jihoon gaped at you, unsure of what to say. “Sorry,” he settled on. “I just wanted to find you.”

“So did I, asshole,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “We’re getting that shit removed right now even if I have to pay for it.”

“I really think you should just dye your hair,” Jihoon said. “I don’t think mine can handle it.”

He watched the anger slowly drain from your face as it suddenly dawned on you that... you found him. Even if you’d been pissed before, his bright colors had led you to him in the end, just as they were supposed to.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You let out a sigh, “and that one of my friends was in the area. He tipped me off and swore the colors matched.” You looked at him and then smiled, introducing yourself. “Your soulmate, I guess.”

“Jihoon,” he said. “Do you wanna... talk more?”

You laughed softly. “Yeah,” you said, taking a step back. “I think that’d be good. Just... no more hair dye after this, yeah? I’m sure the pink looked way better on you than it did me.” You stared at him for a moment, noticing the way that color had begun flooding into his face. “It definitely does now, at least.”

This would be a fun story in the future, at least. He erased his text to his friends, deleting the picture off the message, and replaced it with a “I found them. I’ll update you guys later.” before Jihoon made a call to his usual stylist. He’d sit with you the entire time while you were getting your hair fixed, already deciding that he liked you. The hair dye he could promise to avoid, but the way you were already turning his face red? That one he couldn’t.

And honestly? He didn’t want to. You could turn his face red any day with your cute quips and quirks and Jihoon would be completely fine with it.

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #jihoon x reader #jihoon x you #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon x you #woozi reader insert #woozi x reader #woozi x you

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arieswritez · 7 months

Text

Prodigal Son

prodigal son - derek goffard x afab!reader

cw: MDNI!!!! implied & actual noncon, threats of violence & actual violence, knifeplay, unprotected sex, creampie, weird old men, abuse of power, slight sacrilege (if you squint idk i have religious trauma), derek

about: one of my derek hcs (and i have plenty ‘cause my brain is too fried to write actual fanfic) is that not only is he well known but he is actually very well liked. (~2.3k words)

a/n: this has been sitting in my private posts for the longest & it keeps getting buried under other posts so here it is before it disappears into the abyss <3 is there a second part? maybe. will it take me forever to post it? yes. xx barely read through so if there's some grammatical errors im srry ;( will be editing if needed

the public views the goffards as royal adjacent: his face plastered on nearly every magazine, listing him as the country’s most eligible bachelor. you read about the goffard brothers and their lives of luxury, private schools, boats, villas in italy, and rumoured engagements with duchesses. you remember gushing over them with your friends. . and while they seemed to like matt goffard better, your attention was on derek. getting your hands on every magazine with his face on it and following any blog dedicated to him.

however, despite how much his image sells, not much is known about derek other than the fact that he’s next in line to take over the goffard business. derek is known for many things but his personality is not one of them.

media training may have prepared him to smile and smolder into a camera but those who really know him know that his personality is just. . off-putting. a smile that doesn’t meet the eyes, not talking or even making eye contact with anyone he considers to be “the help”.

his father has done a good job at using derek’s good looks to his advantage. he’s spent a pretty penny cleaning up his messes and his PR team has been working with derek ever since he started to become an absolute terror (around age 13).

and so, with a lot of training, derek learns how to subdue it: suppressing a sneer of disgust when someone attempts to engage him in conversation. he still finds it hard not to lash out when someone so much as brushes their shoulders against him, when he catches a whiff of the cheap cologne and/or perfume clinging to their clothing.

and when the dam eventually cracks: it's ridiculously easy to patch up. because behind that carefully curated image is a long string of accusations of harassment, hush money, NDA’s and lawsuits that’ll never see the light of day thanks to daddy dearest. derek's victims have either been intimidated into silence by the business mogul or simply disappeared off the face of the earth.

derek's father has worked his ass off and he'd be damned if some nobodies ruin the mirage he's created.

from the outside looking in, the goffards - particularly the brothers - are just your average nepo babies. everyone fantasizes about being them. or winning the lottery and marrying into wealth.

it’s only when you meet derek that you realize the goffard empire is more of a jungle than it is a monarchy.

it’s a busy night at the upscale restaurant you work in. and everyone tells you: "you’re lucky you’ve got this gig."

on most days, that’s hard to believe: rich snobs that treat you like you’re shit smeared beneath their shoe and don’t tip well. but that night, with the staff urgently trying to get around, you figure they may be right. . because you get derek’s table.

lucky you <3

derek is with his father, a couple business partners, and two rugged men with shifting eyes who you assume are their bodyguards. he looked like a dream in person. his usually tousled blond hair slicked back, dressed all in black. his dress shirt slightly unbuttoned: his trademark 'disheveled' look you're sure was actually carefully styled. and against his chest, you notice a plain gold chain that was undoubtedly worth more than your yearly salary.

if you thought he looked good in pictures, he looked godly in person.

you do your best to contain your excitement, trying to make a good impression when you introduce yourself. the pitch in your voice heightening - as it always does while on the clock - and you gave your best smile. his father and the other business men seem to be more. . welcoming. or at least in that awkward way old rich white men have of being patronizing and flirting with you at the same time. you couldn’t keep track of the amount of times they’ve called you ‘sweetheart’ , ‘babe’, or ‘doll’.

derek, however, hardly looks at you. he just orders from the menu, giving you short and cutting answers when you inquire about anything, then tossing the menu in your general direction - you hadn’t finished talking - without as much as glancing at you. the menu nearly slides off the table and you feel your face heat up in embarrassment when you fumble to catch it.

and despite how you think he hardly notices you. . he does. from the corner of his eye, he watches your disheartened figure walk away, and the corner of his mouth perks up.

he’s extremely demanding the entire night you serve him. everything you do is wrong in his eyes. the food was cold. too much salt. not enough salt.

i found your hair in the food, i’m not eating that.

you forgot the asparagus i ordered.

the steak isn't medium, it's cooked to shit.

can you do anything right?

your brain feels like mush and the cooks are tearing you to shreds in the kitchen because they can’t get to derek themselves.

eventually, derek’s father must catch on to derek's sour attitude and asks for the check. you curse yourself. it's been a long, ego destroying night & now you’re 100% sure you’re not getting a tip.

you just bow your head and apologize for the umpteenth over your ‘subpar service’ and pick up the table’s plates.

and as you hold back tears, you don’t notice how derek’s is missing his steak knife.

after being glared at by half the kitchen staff - it’ll be a miracle if you still have your job come morning - you scurry into the bathroom to have a good cry.

unfortunately, derek’s been watching you like a hawk. you are quite predictable. or maybe he’s just done this to many women before you.

derek excuses himself from the table and follows you. you hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. you weren’t special. there was nothing unique about you. and for his standards - considering he constantly had a supermodel on his dick - you were just. . plain as hell.

you just so happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. which was unfortunate for you, of course, seeing as how derek figured someone the likes of you couldn’t exactly afford days off.

and it’s exactly that that caused you to be pinned face first against one of the stalls, the steak knife pressed against your throat, your work skirt flipped over your hips, your stockings and panties torn, and his cock inside you.

when he first attacked you, it happened so fast you didn’t catch a glimpse of who it was.

you were washing your face, not caring if you were removing your makeup in the process: what difference did it make, anyway?

you looked up into the mirror, expecting to see bloodshot eyes and a runny nose. . only to have your head bounced off of the glass.

your ears rang.

you stumbled.

and a hand wrapped around your arm and threw you up against one of the empty stalls.

someone flattened themselves up against you, a hardness pressing against your back.

you recognized his voice first, when he hissed into your ear,

“scream and i’ll slit your fucking throat.”

then, by scent: his expensive cologne choking you as he caged you in and jackhammered into you.

despite his stone cold demeanor towards you the entire night, his mouth stayed latched onto your skin: biting down in an attempt to smother the needy whines and moans that crawled out of his throat. you barely breathed, choking on your cries, hoping the blade wouldn’t slip in his shaking grip.

you were no one.

just another poor little toy derek wanted to break but for some reason, you’d managed to get him all pent up. seeing you fumble around while he berated you . . and now seeing you try to stifle your cries of pain had his balls drawing up. his other hand groped your breast, the knife leaving your throat long enough for him to grab your face and make you look at him over your shoulder.

“beg me,” he hissed. “beg me to come inside you. c’mon. . don’t you want it to be over~?”

you sniffled, letting out a surprised cry of pain at a particularly hard thrust.

"pl-please -" you cried out, unable to get the words out between your sobbing. "please-"

"p-p-please~" he mimicked your whines in a high pitched, exaggerated way. "please what? please what, huh? fuck you harder? cut you? kill you? you want me to put you out of your fucking misery in a dirty bathroom stall?"

everything hurt, your neck was twisted at an awkward angle, your head throbbed, and the friction between your legs was unbearable. he was right, you did want it to be over.

you wanted to go home and wash his cologne out of your ruined work uniform. you wanted to hold your head underwater until the scent evaporated from within your nostrils.

or go back to the time in which you were offered this job and refuse it.

or just not show up that day.

you'd wanted to call out that night, lie about being sick and binge watch trashy television. you wanted to reach an epiphany & snap out of it, trash all the magazines with Derek's fucking face plastered all over them, and kiss your daydreams of prince charming goodbye.

but most of all, you wanted him to get it over with and finish .

so you settled with appeasing him. because he's the one with the power. the money. the fame.

and the one with a knife to your throat.

you didn't care what it might take: you just wanted him to finish. but you didn't say that. you couldn't. so, instead, you managed to whisper,

"please - cum inside me."

the blade nicked you and you swear you saw your life flash before your eyes. the sick fuck was gonna gut you before he finished, you were sure of it.

but the searing pain, the warmth of blood cascading down the valley of your chest, the bright white light promised to you by kind eyed priests and mentioned in the prayers fallen from your mother's lips - never came. instead, you felt the harsh pinch of teeth clamping down onto your shoulder, muffling a strangled shout.

derek flattened you against the stall, rutting up against you. hunched over you, he unlocked his jaw and burrowed his face at the juncture where neck meets shoulder, panting condensation into your skin as he fucked his release into you.

against better judgement, your toes curled into the ridiculous, shiny flats your manager forced you to wear. a spike of. . pleasure. . zapped up your spine as derek's cock incessantly pressed against a spot inside you, throbbing and spurting so much cum it leaked out and dripped down your thighs.

you squeezed around him and there was a soft, whimpering moan.

you weren't sure which one of you'd let it out. but the sound seemed to sober derek up. he straightened suddenly, pulling away from you.

vertigo overtook you. he didn’t catch you when your knees gave and you collapsed. you heard the jingle of a belt, a zipper going up, then, you saw him step out and over you to push the stall open.

he didn't look back at you as he went to the sink, turned on the faucet, and wet his hands, slicking his hair back once again. you caught his reflection in the mirror: a soft flush against tan skin, spreading across his face, down his neck, and to his chest where his expensive, crisp, black dress shirt had been slightly unbuttoned.

his eyes met yours in the mirror.

and you wish you could say you saw something in them. disgust. contempt. lust. but there was nothing. it was as if he'd just seen a stranger in passing. he'd barely registered your existence, looked at you like one might look at the crack of a sidewalk they always pass by on their way to work.

not at all.

and then he was gone.

and a part of you wondered if you'd just imagined it. if it was all just some fucked up dream. you could've convinced yourself, too, if it weren't for the fact that you could still feel him inside you.

you were still crying, you realized, when teardrops landed on your cracked phone screen when your shaking hands managed to grasp it.

you checked the time through blurry vision. you were almost off.

you crawled to your knees and tried to push yourself up to no avail. your vision swam. and before you could register what was happening, everything faded to black.

you were out when the bathroom door opened.

one of the rugged men that were once seated at mr.goffard's table looked down at your crumpled figure on the floor. the man didn't say anything and simply closed the door. a few moments later, the bathroom door opened again. this time, the other man joined the first. without an ounce of hesitation, one of the men gathered your unconscious body and walked out.

no one noticed.

or no one cared to watch you get hauled away and into the shiny, black limousine of the goffards. you imagined averted eyes and anxious sips of wine of fellow restaurant goers as the footsteps of the country's most powerful men passed them by. clicking cutlery and knowing looks passed between couples. what would no doubt be the gossip on their way home back to their massive, lifeless homes.

the wife would say, "poor thing," as the husband unzipped her dress. the husband would hum. and that'd be the end of it.

nothing would be done.

and whether you're ever seen again or not doesn't matter because you'll soon be forgotten. and no one's risking their lifelihood for someone as insignificant as you.

after all, no one's ever dared to say no to mr. goffard's prodigal son.

#derek goffard #derek goffard x reader #tpof derek #art and characters by gatobob #i've never worked in a restaurant can u tell #hes so groddy i wanna eat him #oh to have your idol be a disgusting degenerate #never meet your heroes #but they never said anything about fucking them #tpof #the price of flesh #art by gatobob #gatobob #derek tpof

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finerllines · 2 years

Text

love, harry [bestfriend!h au]

a/n: hello everyone i hope yall are still here and reading!! im so sorry it took so long i had a major slump for a couple of months but now im back and im so excited to wrap up charlie and harry's story. thank you for reading!! please give me feedback, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed <3

summary: harry needs his best friend back and he will do anything to get her to love him back

wc: 11k+

tw: none :-)

prev part

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One of the main occupational hazards of being a touring musician is missing things. Eventually, people learn to stop sending invitations. Just as well, it gets harder and harder to find new ways to say ‘sorry, I’ve got work’. When most of the people you grew up with have moved out of your small town, onto bigger and better things, home just becomes wherever you manage to stay for more than a month.

And that’s fine. That’s all Harry can really remember. Life became a matter of watching everyone else’s from a distance. Everyone’s except one.

Charlie.

Instead of Instagram stories and posts, it was personal photos and little vlogs about her day sent straight to him, for his eyes only. He doesn’t know what he did to earn her trust and love, but he has never taken it for granted. Somehow, she was never deterred by his lack of attendance, congratulatory texts and video calls thankfully being enough. Or it was enough, until she got pregnant.

He had worked so hard to show her it’s okay to open up and let people in again, and he went and pissed it all away. But he is determined to not let her shut him out again. Which is why he’s back at her front door, on four hours of sleep, still exhausted from the show the night before.

Nothing brings you back down to earth like standing in front of a door after performing in front of five thousand people, hands filled with grovelling supplies, shaking as it raises to knock.

Despite the many women he’s dated, grovelling is new to him. He likes to think he’s a pretty good boyfriend - he’s attentive, patient, and thoughtful. But by the time they get to the point where he would need to grovel, he normally already has one foot out the door, so instead of trying to make amends he accepts their fate and ends things. Cruel? Sure. But it’s the truth. He’s never really loved or cared about anyone enough to want to make the extra effort.

Except Charlie. And Charlie has never been mad at him.

Until now. Justifiably so.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to have this conversation, it’s all he’s wanted to do since their call, he just doesn’t know where to start.

Should he bring up the pure rage he felt when he saw the pictures of them and Richard? Or is that something he should save for later, after he has figured all of that out himself? He’s a jealous guy, everyone knows that, but he’s never felt jealousy so ugly and intense like that before, it felt so primitive and guttural; the near uncontrollable urge to remind Richard, and everyone, that Charlie does not belong to him. Problem is, Charlie doesn’t belong to him either. And neither does Rory. Less so now than ever.

He used to think he feels so strongly about her because she is a piece of his childhood, a piece of the Harry he used to be. Now, these feelings are undeniably romantic. None of her previous partners ever felt like a real threat because he was always confident that their history and the connection is stronger than anything these men would have to offer her. Then Richard made a baby with her. Talk about a connection.

Those weeks spent with Rory and Charlie were bliss. There hasn’t been a day spent without thinking about how they were doing since: whether Rory ate all her breakfast, or whether Charlie found the time to watch an episode of Taskmaster with a glass of wine. And when the domestic got too emotional for him, he would start to wonder what her skin would feel like if he ran his hand under her shirt, or what sounds she would make if he nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, peppering it with soft kisses and licks.

But none of that is as important as their friendship. So, until he figures out all of that out for himself, he needs to focus on apologising and begging for forgiveness.

Taking a deep breath, he wipes his palms on his thighs before knocking the door. While waiting, he talks himself through more deep breaths. It’s a good thing he did because when the door gets pulled open his breath hitches a little.

Finally seeing the person you’ve been missing and thinking about is almost life giving. Charlie is stunning, even in an old robe and a braid that looks like it was slept in.

“Harry, hi.”

He had been mentally bracing himself for iciness in her voice. Instead, all he hears is wariness, and half of her body remains hidden behind the door

Charlie is wary of him. Shit.

“Um, H?” she asks when he doesn’t respond.

“Hi,” he raises a hand as a greeting on instinct, forgetting that he’s holding a bouquet of flowers. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She replies as if it’s ridiculous that he has to ask, but she can't see how guarded she looks right now.

A wave of déjà vu hits. The uncertainty and ball of emotion in his belly reminds Harry of the day he came to confront Charlie about having a baby.

She walks in front of him guiding him to the kitchen.

“Rory’s just eaten breakfast, I’m getting started on mine. You can join me if you’d like.”

In the kitchen playing with a hand towel is the most cheerful baby. The smile that emerges on his face is instinctive, and it’s fortunately shared by Rory. He’s not sure if it’s wishful thinking but he thinks he sees her eyes light up with recognition. He wants to pick her up and cuddle her close, for his own comfort more than anything, but he reminds himself of the agenda and redirects his attention to his best friend.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen, kind of stupidly, he thrusts his hands forward, like a young boy presenting a gift to his crush for the first time.

“For you.”

Her brows quirk up. “For me?”

He nods. “Who else?”

“I don’t know, thought you might be just making a pit stop.” She takes the bouquet first, taking the time to admire the assortment of flowers. “Thank you. These are beautiful.”

After getting it situated in an old jar from under the sink she takes the small gift bag. Setting it on the kitchen counter, she starts to pull things out.

“Is this …” she trails off as she studies the items on the counter.

“It’s the special knife spoon thing you talked about. The one that is designed to get all the peanut butter out the jar. And I got you another set of those small and long wooden spoons.”

She doesn't say anything for a moment and continues staring at his offerings.

While scratching the nape of his neck he says, “Sorry, it was hard to find an apology gift that is meaningful and yet wouldn’t make you mad because I spent a shitload of money on it. I’ll get you a proper gift soon but I didn’t have too much time because of, you know, the –“

“Harry,” she cuts him off firmly, “I love it, thank you. It means a lot, really.” Stepping forward, she wraps her arms around him, squeezing tightly, cheek pressed comfortably against his body.

His heart tightens in his chest. He’s missed this. He was afraid he might never experience this again.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I feel like all I’ve done since coming back is apologise but I need you to forgive me one more time, please. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. You know that, right? I … I was just irrationally jealous and hurt that I wanted to hurt you too. It’s fucked up, but it’s the truth. You’ll only get the truth from now on. I promise. Please believe me.”

How can she not believe him?

The extra precautions taken to keep her anonymity as much as possible while also making sure she could be as involved in his life as she wants. Years of texts, calls, and everything in between where they exposed their truest selves to each other without fear of judgement. Even the way he is holding her now, breath racing in and out, like he might break down if she doesn’t believe him.

“H, I believe you. The things you said … they were fucked. But I can’t stay mad at you, even if I tried.”

Shaking his head, he mumbles into her hair, “Thank you. Thank you. You’re too good for me. You shouldn’t make it so easy for a guy, you deserve grovelling. And I will, I’m not done making it up to you.”

They both hug each other tighter, gripping the fabric on each other’s backs.

“I don’t need grovelling; you’ve already done so much. Besides, you bought me my first bouquet of flowers in like four years and you got me presents that tell me you pay attention to me. I rambled to you about loving small spoons with long handles and how much I hate not being able to clean out the peanut butter jar ages ago, and somehow you were actually listening and remembered.”

“That wanker never got you flowers?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, too practical for that. And for small spoons too.” She coughs to clear her throat. “Also, you’re allowed to curse him you. You were right.”

“About what?” Harry asks.

She makes no effort to explain, simply shrugging her shoulders in faux nonchalance. There’s a brief silence once again, then, a chill shoots up his spine. He places his hands on her forearms and pushes her far back enough to be able to see her face.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Not now, please. Can we talk about it later? I missed you and I don’t want to think about him.”

Of course. He never wants to think about Richard more than necessary anyways.

“Okay, I don’t want him ruining our time together. I want to spend time with my best girls.”

Harry ended up staying the night.

He woke up with Charlie’s head tucked under his, and her knees curled into herself on his lap. Despite the kink in his neck and the knot between his shoulders, he can’t bring himself to separate from her. The heat emanating from her body warms him in a way that soothes him. Their bodies haven’t been this close in forever, not since they were children and had sleepovers in the backyard where they always somehow woke up curled into each other.

Growing up together meant going through that awkward stage of being afraid to get too touchy with each other, and by the time they moved past that, they had both started developing real crushes and entering relationships with other people. Harry thought they were pretty affectionate for platonic friends anyways, but the way they’re intertwined now makes him realise that they can be so much closer, so, so much closer.

Charlie’s face is right there. He can see every crevice, bump, and wrinkle on her skin. His eyes can’t help but trace every feature - round her eyes, down the slope of her nose, and across her lips. He can’t pull his eyes away from her lips. They sit together so perfectly, in the perfect pout, begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed. Begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed by him specifically.

He doesn’t notice his face inching towards hers until their noses brush, causing her to tense in his arms. Harry freezes, watching tentatively as her lips purse and eyes squeeze tightly together.

“Uhhmm?” she groans.

Harry slowly moves his hand up and down Charlie’s back hoping to ground her as she slowly wakes up.

“It’s me, darling. Harry.”

“Hmm? H?”

She’s so precious. Harry feels like his heart might burst from how hard it’s beating.

“I’m right here. Good morning.”

With a big huff, her eyes blink open. Her forehead is pinched with confusion as she takes in her surroundings. Slowly pulling her arm from under his body, she reaches up and places her hand on Harry’s face, patting his cheek a couple of times as if trying to make sure he's really there.

With a little chuckle, he covers her hand with his, holding it in place on his cheek. Tilting his head slightly, he presses a small kiss to her palm. “Darling, I’m here. I came over yesterday and we fell asleep on the couch. Remember?”

Satisfied with his explanation, Charlie lets her body go lax against his.

Harry can’t help but smile at the way she trusts him, even half asleep.

Despite being forgiven almost immediately, there’s still a sense of uneasiness that he cannot shake. All of that is in his head though because Charlie has done nothing to make him feel uncertain. The looks, touches, and words they shared yesterday can only be described as tender, both of them obviously still emotionally fragile.

Richard’s fuck up is still unknown to Harry. He doesn’t care though. Not right now anyways. He got to kiss Rory’s cheeks until she erupted into excited giggles and watch as her gorgeous eyes slowly fluttered shut as she fell asleep in his rocking arms. Then, a tired but smiley Charlie tucked herself against him as they watched tv and talked about life with their heads pressed together.

But the feel good atmosphere of yesterday has dissipated, both of them forced to return to reality under the morning sunlight.

A strong vibration bursts their bubble.

When Charlie tries to peel herself from Harry, his arm quickly circles her waist to keep her close to him as he leans to grab his phone on the coffee table.

“Hello?” his voice is gruff from sleep. “I know … I’ll be there on time. I said I’ll be there … yes I know what I’m doing. Okay, bye.”

Talk about returning to reality.

“You need to go,” she says, not asks.

He nods. “I uh, didn’t get in my car to London this morning so they’re just wondering where I am. I have a show there tonight.”

Right. Harry just kicked off his new tour and suddenly appeared at her door after the first show.

The air around them is still as the two friends try to make sense of all that’s happened.

“Of course, you’re an important man.”

“Not too important for you and Rory.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk, like properly, last night, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’m glad you came, H, and Rory was thrilled to see you. She missed you, a lot. I’ve played your album so much she recognises your voice.”

Harry’s eyes pretty much glaze over at the thought. “Thank you for letting be in her life”

Charlie shakes her head and grabs his hands that have started to tremble. “You don’t need to thank me. I can't imagine you not being in her life. We’re Harry and Charlie, so I'm stuck with you.”

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, “And we’re Harry, Charlie, and Rory.”

He has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from saying everything he wants to say. With the last bit of self-control left in his body, he rests his forehead against hers as they lock eyes.

Then, a loud buzzing emanates from the coffee table again. With a frustrated huff, his eyes shut.

“Hey,” she squeezes his hand, “your fans need you.”

They emerge from their little cocoon on the sofa in silence, moving wordlessly in sync as Harry pays Rory one last visit, then leaves for London after a tight hug from his best friend.

As Charlie shuts the door behind her, she can’t help but feel that her living room now feels a little empty. All that’s left is the weight of everything left unsaid between them lingering in the air.

Better Homes and Gardens Exclusive: Harry Styles Shares the Meaning Behind His New Album, 'Harry's House'

Pop music’s most sought after man has a new album coming out and the world is excited. This new release comes from a relatively quiet quarantine period from Styles. He was set to kick off his world tour for his last album, Fine Line, when travel and group restrictions worldwide were announced, and his world went quiet all of a sudden.

His new album showcases an unexpected domestic side to his glistening life. Themes of family, belonging, and domestic bliss shine through so evidently that I can’t help but wonder if all of this is hypothetical or anecdotal.

I bite the bullet and ask. Before I get an answer, he lets out a small laugh, as if he has been expecting it.

“It’s definitely not an autobiography but all the songs come from a very real place in my life. The best thing about writing from real life is that as time passes my relationship with these songs change. Even from when I wrote them up to now, some of these songs listen completely different.”

I ask if that is good or bad. “Depends”, he says after ruminating to himself, “it depends on whether there are any fresh wounds.” Right now, he confesses, some wounds are pretty fresh. “Some are hard to listen to and I’m a little nervous to sing them if I’m honest.”

His earnestness is hard to miss – it shines through in his eyes and his voice. Tucked away in our little corner of the coffeeshop, I can’t help but feel like my high school crush has somehow decided to confide in me and unveil what’s beneath the good looks and charm. I feel almost privileged to be the chosen one, entrusted with his sincerity and vulnerability.

There is nothing manmade or artificial about this man – at least not when it comes to his music. He speaks about each song with so much passion, excitement, and on a couple of occasions, uncertainty. That took me by surprise. He has learnt to let go of needing to be well liked by every listener, he tells me proudly, but the need to impress those he loves will forever be there. Whether that is a strength or a weakness he has yet to figure out.

“That need is almost stronger now. Sometimes songs become a kind of coded message for those who know what I’m singing about. And it’s scary, waiting for a reaction or some approval,” he confesses.

“I spent so much time at home this past year, but I felt like my actual home is someplace else, somewhere that I couldn’t be at that moment in time. Allowing myself to feel everything that I felt and reflect on why I’m feeling these things helped me make sense of all of that. Now I know where my home is, or at least I know where to go to find it.”

From the way he speaks I get the impression that he needs this album to be heard by some people. Not everyone, but a select few. Even though these songs weren’t necessarily written for me, I can’t help but feel excited to enter Harry’s House.

Charlie misses Harry. Like really misses Harry. Getting that little taste of him unlocked the door of longing deep within her and now it won’t shut. Like when you skip lunch then eat a cracker a couple hours later, unleashing a wave of insatiable hunger that can only be made quiet by eating until you cannot breathe anymore.

Basically, she needs so much of Harry until she cannot breathe. Until all she can think about is him.

Something changed. The moment she shut the door behind him that fateful morning, it was like a switch flipped and all she could do from then on is think about him. She’s missed him before, of course, but she’s never quite like this.

She can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at her so tenderly before. Harry’s definitely the most attentive man she’s ever met. Maybe it’s because she has the shitshow of a conversation with Richard to compare it to, but Harry said sorry, and for some reason that was more than enough for her.

Is she an idiot for choosing to believe a man’s words after just being lied to by another? Perhaps. Unfortunately, there is nothing she can do about it. Everything in her wants Harry.

The only contact she’s had with him since he left is a couple of texts. They’ve been casual, nothing too serious – he likes to have serious conversations in person – but enough to let her know that he’s still thinking about her.

“What do you think Rory? You’re a smart girl, right? You latched onto Harry but didn’t really want to play along with Richard, so what gave it away huh? Why didn’t you tell your mummy?”

The dangerous thing about getting too attached to Harry – that is, getting attached in a non-platonic way or in a father-figure to Rory kind of way – is that she’ll grow too dependent on him for assurance. Hearing him tell her that she is a good mother affected her more than she would like to admit. His words already hold too much weight, it would not be smart to give him more authority.

If the Richard catastrophe had to have a silver lining, it made Charlie realise that she needs to get her shit together and live up to the whole ‘strong, independent woman’ thing. She went from being satisfied in her own little world where all that mattered was her and her daughter, to feeling like Rory needed Richard’s love to be complete, as if her as a mother was not enough.

So, as much as her heart hates that Harry’s not here, her brain knows it’s for the best. She hasn’t had a moment like this in a while. Just her and her daughter having a quiet moment together. Sometimes she thinks it’s weird that she's a grown adult with a very adult job with very adult responsibilities, but she speaks to her year old daughter as if she’s a colleague, full sentences and everything.

“You like Harry, huh. What’d you think you’ll call him when you can speak? Uncle Harry? Or just Harry maybe. If you come up with some sort of cute nickname for him, he’ll love it.”

Rory looks up at her with a toy truck in her mouth, drool basically dripping off the toy.

Reaching for a tissue, Charlie sighs with amusement. “You’re just an angel aren’t you.”

It’s about two months later that Charlie and Harry reunite in person. He carved out a free couple of weeks and invited Charlie and Rory down to his flat in London for a ‘sleepover’, as he so put it.

Everything is sorted out for the both of you to stay over. The cot I ordered for Rory has already arrived so you can’t say no. xx

He greets them in the underground carpark. Charlie first sees him when the car he chartered pulls up in front of the lift lobby. With hands clasped behind his back, he has his eyes glued to the entrance, a smile breaking out on his face when he spots them.

After opening the door for them, his hands reconvene behind his back. She can tell they are tightly clenched from the way his forearms flex.

“Hi,” he says, voice a little tentative. He still doesn’t make a move to touch her.

“Hi,” she replies.

She can tell Harry is itching to do something - hug her or kiss her on the cheek - literally anything. His self-restraint is impressive, but she decides to put him out of his misery.

“Can you help bring Rory up please? I’ve got my hands full with the bags.”

He’s nodding instantly. The moment Charlie moves away from the door he’s swooping in to unbuckle the little girl gleefully.

“Hi my little monkey. C’mere.” His voice is soft and intimate.

Harry carries Rory on his front in the baby byon on the lift ride up. Charlie can’t pull her eyes away from their reflection in the mirror the entire time, and Harry can’t pull his eyes from Rory, who is taking in the new surroundings with curious eyes, swinging her chubby little legs back and forth.

Charlie wants to tattoo this image onto the inside of her brain.

It’s almost frightening how easily they slip back into their domestic routine. Apart from the slight tentativeness in their actions, they move around the space with complete familiarity. Before he puts Rory down, he makes sure to look at Charlie for approval first, and when she starts exploring his living room on wobbly steps, he makes sure to trail behind her, ready to grab her if she tries to walk into furniture.

He’s not sure if it’s all in his head, but Rory seems to have become a toddler in his short absence, which makes his heart ache a little. His desire to be there to witness Rory growing up probably crosses some sort of line, especially since Charlie made it clear that he is not a part of their family, however, out of all the inappropriate thoughts he has about Charlie, this one about watching Rory grow up is definitely the tamest.

“She’s basically a teenager now,” he jokes, successfully eliciting a giggle from Charlie.

With a prideful smile, she says, “She’s definitely a smart girl. There’s a song of yours she can recognise. When it plays it public she’ll give me a cheeky look and do a little dance.”

Harry’s head whips around to face her. “Really?”

She nods.

“What song? Do you have a video?”

Her face falters a little. “I don’t have any videos, sorry. It was mainly when we … you know.”

“Oh, right. It’s a new one then.” She nods again. “Thank you for letting me still be part of her life, even though we were –“

“- yeah.” They standing silence watching the exploring baby. “Like I said, I can’t hate you. And I would never make my daughter hate you too.”

He coughs to clear his throat. “What if … what if I want more?”

“More? Well, you’re her godfather, her only godfather, that hasn’t changed. And now that she … now that the father figure role is vacant again, you have her all to yourself.”

“Actually, I meant … um,” he scratches the back of his head, diverting his eyes. He chickens out. “Um, will you tell me about what happened with Richard?”

Charlie lets out a huff and rolls her eyes. She recounts what happened as briefly as possible, distilling Richard’s big villain monologue to only the salient bits, for her sake more than Richard’s.

“Huh,” he pinches his bottom lip, “wanker.”

“Yeah,” she replies, surprised that he doesn’t say more.

“I’m sorry though.”

“Why are you sorry? Richard’s shitty behaviour has nothing to do with you.”

Is this the right time to tell her that Richard’s ego competition with him was not just all in his head? That whenever Richard’s around Harry makes sure to be a bit more attentive and a bit more of a gentleman? That he gets all smug inside when Charlie’s friends tell him what a good boyfriend he’d be? And that he definitely makes sure to shoot Richard a small smirk whenever their eyes meet at parties?

Probably not.

In his defence, Harry owns up to his petty jealousy.

“Because he wouldn’t have come back to mess with you if those photos never got posted. And being slightly less of a dick than him doesn’t say much. The both of you mean so much to me, I panicked and got insecure, so I lashed out and said those fucked up things.”

“Insecure? Because of Richard?”

His nose scrunches, embarrassed. “He was never my biggest fan, and I just knew that once he got the chance, he would find a way to keep Rory away from me, keep you away from me. That’s like my worst nightmare. And being the main man in Rory’s life, Richard doesn’t deserve that. It’s entitled, selfish, and very wrong, but I can’t help it.”

Charlie goes silent at his little confession. “You’d only spent like, two weeks with Rory. I didn’t realise you’d care so much so quickly.”

“I fell in love with her the moment I heard about her. I felt betrayed and angry, but also enamoured, instantly. I didn’t even need to see her. I missed her before I met her.”

To say that Charlie loves Harry would not only be an understatement, but a mistranslation of something so intense and all consuming. Where had this man come from and why hadn’t she noticed sooner.

“Harry, I –“

“- even if I never got to see her again, I would still think about her, all the time. Just like how I’m always thinking about you.”

Their eyes lock in an intense stare, neither knowing what to do next.

Blinking away some rogue tears, Charlie closes her mouth that involuntarily fell slightly agape and crosses the short distance to make her way to Harry. With trembling hands, she interlaces her fingers with his and squeezes.

“I’m afraid that if I say everything I want to tell you, you’ll get scared and run away.” His voice is hushed. If they weren’t standing so close, she would not have heard him.

“I want to hear them.”

“Okay,” he replies. He’s smiling shyly now.

They both linger in the silence as if instinctively knowing that the rest of this conversation has to happen later. That neither of them are brave enough to have this conversation yet.

That night, he brings his girls out for ramen at his favourite spot. They sit facing each other in a booth at the back of the restaurant with Rory at the head of the table in a baby chair. He asks for the baby chair and a set of smaller utensils without any prompting, in fact, Charlie didn't get the chance to bring it up. He gets his favourite tonkatsu ramen and she gets the shio. When the two steaming bowls get placed in front of them, he reaches for Rory’s bowl, again unprompted, and puts in a couple strands of ramen and some soup, making sure to cut up the noodles with a fork and blow on it until it seems cool enough. In between bites of his own food, he checks to make sure Rory is eating her dinner okay, peeking into her little plastic bowl to make sure she’s not running low on food, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

Conversation at the table is minimal. Apart from some comments about the food and the restaurant, the main thing that can be heard from their table is baby babble and slurping.

Charlie likes it this way, she thinks, being able to soak in this moment without any urgency to clear the air or lay everything out on the table. Her heart's aflutter the entire time. To anyone in the restaurant, they just look like a regular family having dinner together and this normalcy is quite frankly making her freak out inside.

Dinner ends relatively early – they need to get back in time for bedtime. The guest bedroom now has a cot in it, the exact one Charlie has back home. He’s a little nervous when Charlie starts examining the stuff he bought. He’s not nervous that he bought the wrong stuff, he’s nervous that she’ll think it’s strange that he knew exactly what to get, that he memorised Rory’s bedtime routine all the way down to the temperature of the room.

She doesn’t comment on anything, of course, she just looks at him with stars in her eyes.

This trip to London is supposed to be a holiday for Charlie, or at least that is what Harry intended. Fine, a city she’s been to dozens of times is not much of a holiday, but Rory has never been out of Manchester, and he stays in a luxury apartment complex complete with a pool and spa.

In his head, he would kiss Charlie goodbye (just on the forehead for now) and head to rehearsals with Rory on his hip, giving her the whole day to enjoy some time to herself. In reality, the uncertainty when he proposes his idea might as well have been written across her face.

“That sounds nice H, but … this is her first time away from home and I don’t really feel okay with not having here with me.” Charlie’s voice suddenly gets louder when she realises what she is implying. “Not to say that I don’t trust you or anything, you’re her godfather of course, but it’s been –“

“Hey, I get it. Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended. I just want you to have some actual time off. You’ve been through quite a lot these past months.”

“I appreciate it, I really do. No one’s quite as thoughtful as you, H.”

Harry turns away to put away their dishes from dinner in the sink, making sure to tuck his face into his chest as best he can to try and to hide the flush blooming on his cheek.

“Well, I’ve got rehearsals tomorrow but my whole evening is free and there’s a Korean restaurant that’s really good. Let me take you, yeah.”

With her back still turned to him, she teases, “Are you asking me out, Styles?”

“Um, we eat together all the time and I would never –“

“Oh, you would never,” she interrupts in mock offence, “I got the picture.”

“That’s not what I meant. The whole Richard thing was so recent I would never try to do anything.”

“H,” she turns to put her hands on his now tense shoulders, “I was just teasing. Korean sounds good. Thanks, H.”

“I’m happy to,” he says, tilting his head back to bump Charlie’s head.

And he means it.

“Hi,” Charlie calls out as she knocks on the door, “sorry we’re early but one of us got a little grumpy. Hope we’re not interrupting.”

Every head in the soundproof room whips around at the new voice. But the person she came in looking for was not one of them.

“Charlie!” Sarah exclaims excitedly, “Hey, not at all we’re almost done. Come in. We haven’t seen you in forever.”

At the mention of her name, everyone else’s face seems to light up with recognition, all joining in with an enthusiastic greeting.

Rory, who was hiding her pouty little face in her mother’s neck, now perks up a tiny bit at the attention.

“And who is this adorable little girl,” Sarah coos, waving a few fingers to try and catch Rory’s attention.

“This is Rory. She might be a little shy because she’s never been around so many people like this before. You wanna say ‘hi’, lovie.” She angles her daughter on her hip to better face Harry’s band and crew.

Despite being in a bad mood the whole day, she refused to take a nap even though she was very patiently rocked for about an hour, Rory is now smiling cheekily, showing off her growing teeth to everyone.

“Can you say ‘hi’?” Charlie prompts again.

Rory drops her head abruptly onto her mother’s cheek. Then, she lets out a noise that vaguely sounds like she’s saying ‘hi’. As if on cue, everyone melts into a puddle of ‘awws’.

“Don’t be fooled she’s not normally this shy. She loves the attention, a little performer.”

With a small smile, Mitch says, “She’s adorable. I see why Harry doesn’t shut up about her. She’s probably his little protégé huh. Maybe our kids can have a little playdate sometime, they’re around the same age.”

“Oh,” Charlie’s caught a little off guard by his revelation, “sure, that sounds nice. She doesn’t get the chance to play with other children too often, I’m worried she won’t learn how to share with how much attention she gets at home.”

“I bet, especially with how much Harry spoils her, huh.”

She can’t stop her cheeks from heating up.

Before she can fruitlessly deny being the object of Harry’s attention, a familiar voice is heard from behind them. “Hey, what’s going on? What are y’all – oh, you guys are early.”

Charlie spins around. “Hi, I hope it’s okay. We didn’t mean to distract everyone.”

“It’s no problem! Monkey is too adorable, how can they not be distracted.” As Harry beelines towards them, his band instinctively makes room for him. “Hi love. Hi monkey.” He gives both Charlie and Rory a kiss on the cheek which causes the little girl to turn her head to look at him. After a couple seconds, her eyes light up with recognition.

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie sees the band exchange knowing glances.

No longer wanting to be the centre of attention, she insists that everyone get back to work, making her way to the sofa in the corner before anyone can object. (The only person who objects is Rory who tries to make silly faces at her audience for as long as she can.)

“Let’s finish rehearsing so that we can end on time. We don’t want monkey to get too hungry,” Harry instructs.

On the sofa, Charlie sits Rory down next to her. She digs in her handbag for the toys that she always carries with her to hopefully keep her daughter from interrupting the rehearsal. Before she can hand the car to Rory, a larger hand extends into her line of vision with a small pair of green headphones.

“Here, these are for monkey. They should fit her, I double checked to make sure they ordered the right size. I told the band to try and keep it a little quieter, we’ve only got a couple songs left, but just in case maybe she should wear it.”

“You got baby headphones for Rory?”

“Yeah, I want her to come see a show eventually, especially since you said she can recognise my voice, so I went ahead and got these.” The headphones exchange hands and his go behind his back immediately. “I’m not trying to pressure you by the way I was just …”

“H, you don’t need to walk around eggshells around me, or assume that I doubt your intentions.” She quickly scans the room. Satisfied that the other in the room are occupied, she assures softly, “I know you’re not Richard.”

The relief that takes over his body is hard to miss. “I just want to take care of her, and you. The last time I tried to do that I went too far. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

It’s a surprise that Charlie can see anything because she’s sure she has hearts for eyes. Slow down, don’t get carried away. The reminder doesn’t work, none of the remaining rehearsal registers in her mind, the only time she manages to break out of her reverie is when her daughter starts squirming next to her and trying to take the headphones off. She somehow managed to understand that the music has stopped, so she’s allowed to take them off.

While she’s putting everything back into her purse, Harry thanks everyone for a good rehearsal and sends everyone off with applause. Rory, who has now crawled off the couch, joins in with the excitement by clapping her tiny hands together. Despite producing a negligible amount of noise, Harry manages to see her in his periphery.

“That’s right monkey. Say ‘yay’,” he says while slowly crouching down to meet her eyes. “Say ‘yay’, monkey.”

“Yay!” Rory chimes back.

Harry looks up to meet Charlie’s eyes as if wanting confirmation that that actually happened.

With a downward smile and raised eyebrows, she shoots him a tiny head nod as silent acknowledgement.

When they finally leave for dinner, Harry has Rory in one hand and Charlie’s purse hanging off the other, leaving Charlie to wave goodbye to everyone with a shy smile knowing exactly what this scene looks like.

Tonight doesn’t feel like any of the previous nights.

For a start, Rory isn’t within arms reach of Charlie. And instead of wearing one of the many sensible outfits she brought with her she’s somehow in a dress worth more than her monthly pay.

Harry’s label is throwing a release party tonight, something he conveniently forgot to mention when convincing her to come down to London. An hour into the night, Charlie finds herself sipping on her second glass of champagne and people watching from the sofa at the edge of the room. The dim lights and loud music make her feel safe, like a protective blanket offering some level of anonymity. Not that the party is particularly unsafe. She’s been to enough of Harry’s work events to not feel completely like a fish out of water – smile politely when he introduces her, nurse a glass of whatever to give her hands something to do, and cling to Harry until all the attention becomes too overwhelming. She’s on step three right now, hence the sitting.

Her palm is damp from the condensation from her glass, the champagne now edging on the side of too warm, but she’s too tired to be bothered, her vision having settled on a comfortable level of blurry.

“Long night?” a voice interrupts.

Her head snaps up to see an unfamiliar man looking down at her with a confident smile.

“Uh, yeah.”

The man moves to sit next to her, forcing her to angle her body to face him.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. I’m Wes.”

She plasters on her polite grin once again and covertly takes a deep breath. “Hi, I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you,” she introduces as she shakes his hand.

“So, why are you sitting all alone with a half drunk glass of bubbly? The night is still young.”

“The night might be but I’m not,” she plays along.

The volume of Wes’ laugh is disproportionate to how funny her joke is.

“Do you want a little pick me up? I’d love if I could have one dance with you.”

Her brows raise when her brain catches on to what is happening. “I don’t know if I have any more dancing left in me,” she says as if she has done any dancing tonight at all.

“That’s fair. Talking’s fine with me too.”

“Oh, you don’t have to sit here with me, I’m fine by myself. Go have fun, find someone else to dance with. The night’s still young after all.”

“Well, you happen to be the most interesting person in the room right now, so I don’t mind sitting here with you.”

Wes’ voice is buttery smooth and his confidence is alluring. Normally her face would flush under all the attention of a self-assured man, however she isn’t feeling it tonight.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Actually, I –“

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. Hey, you’re Waz right?”

“Wes, but yeah. Hey Harry, congratulations.”

“Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow Charlie.”

Without giving Wes room to dispute, Harry tugs Charlie to her feet by the bicep, ditches her champagne flute after shooting the rest of the alcohol, and leads her to the baby room where Rory and Sarah’s baby is being cared for by a babysitter.

When the door shuts behind her, she asks, “You needed me?”

“Hmm?” Harry hums absentmindedly as he peeks into Rory’s stroller.

“You said you needed me?” she tries again.

“Right. I was bored and wanted your company.” He punctuates his words with a dismissive shrug.

“Harry!”

“What? I missed you.”

“Is that all? Really?”

He shrugs again. She rolls her eyes, yet she can’t stop smiling.

They sit on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, backs pressed against the wall in the silent room. Their only companions are the two babies who are sound asleep, and the babysitter who is sitting on a chair in the corner, trying her hardest to seem preoccupied with her phone.

There could be a hundred other people squeezed into this tiny room, but Charlie would still feel like they are the only two people present. Harry just has that effect on her. His talent for making her feel seen and wanted is astounding.

Sitting facing a plain white wall, Harry starts talking about anything and everything. In the middle of his extensive review of all the dessert options at the refreshments table, her hand finds his and interlocks their fingers tightly. She slouches down to rest her head on his bicep. He reciprocates without missing a beat, cheek resting on the top of her head. She can feel his every breath and she’s sure he can feel the same.

She doesn’t notice that her eyes have closed until a loud buzz emits from Harry’s pocket. He doesn’t move to address it, so she lets herself get comfortable again, only to be interrupted again by a stream of vibrations.

“H, your phone.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. His hand enters and exits his pocket quickly then reaches over to encourage her head to lay on his shoulder again.

“Go check it, it may be important.”

He shakes his head. “Nah.”

They return to their conversation with Harry rambling and Charlie humming in affirmation or disagreement. As her eyes flutter shut again, comforted by the low rumbling of his voice, she focuses on his thumb that is now drawing little circles on her palm to stay awake. It doesn’t work very well because she does fall asleep and is only woken up by harsh whispers.

“… this was done for you, so it would be nice if you could be present at your own party. Everyone has been coming up to me to ask about you. And why aren’t you reading my texts?”

“I am present. I’ve said ‘hi’ to everyone, thanked all the important people, and posed for all the photos.”

“But you’re now hiding here. Doing none of those things.”

“Shh, Charlie is asleep, and so are the babies. Don’t raise your voice.”

“Why are you in here playing babysitter when you are supposed to be mingling and making connections?”

“I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make.”

Then, there’s a loud smacking sound. Her eyes are still shut but any idiot could guess that the Jeff just smacked his forehead in exasperation. She would too if Harry said something so stupid to her.

“At least say goodbye and thank everyone before you leave, okay? Can you do that one thing.”

“Yes dad.”

Charlie gives up her ruse when she hears the door shut. Peeking out of one eye, she whispers, “Is Jeff gone?”

“You cheeky fucker.” Harry cups her jaw and squishes her cheeks together. “You didn’t think to help me out? You just let me get scolded by Jeff?”

She sits up slowly while rubbing her eyes. “Please, you weren’t getting scolded. I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make. Pfft.”

As she tries to stand, tattooed arms curl around her waist, trapping her to his side. “I don’t appreciate you making fun of me when I got us out of trouble.”

She squirms in his arms and tries to wriggle free with no success. The more she moves the tighter his arms get.

“Us? I am not the man of the hour. This party is not for me rockstar.”

He cups the back of her head with a hand to press her full body against him basically tucking her into his side. “Well unfortunately for you I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night. So, if I have to go out and mingle, so do you.”

“You little bitch. You begged me to come here with you.”

“I’m a little bitch?” he whisper-shouts in mock offence.

They start play wrestling in their little corner of the room, completely forgetting that there is a stranger in there with them. Their exchange of tickles and pinches causes them to topple over so that they’re now lying on the ground, Charlie’s body pressing into Harry’s with his arms still circling her waist. When they eventually tire themselves out, they remain stacked on top of each other trying to catch their breath.

He starts playing with the ends of her hair, twirling strands around his fingers then releasing it, only to start twirling it again. Lying with the woman who occupies all of his heart, mucking about on the dirty floor, Harry doesn’t think he has felt this content in a long time.

“Thank you for being here with me, it wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t speak throughout this release.”

“Well, I had to be here, for continuity’s sake, I’ve been there since your shitty X Factor audition.” Charlie clears her throat dramatically, then starts to croon, “Isn’t she lovely, isn’t she –“

“Hey fuck you,” Harry says between giggles and starts to tickle her again.

The door suddenly whips open, Jeff’s stern expression in the doorway.

“Good, nap time is over. Now, go mingle with the guests, please.”

Like reluctant children, Charlie and Harry detangle themselves and straighten their clothes, then dart out the door without making eye contact with Jeff. The moment they are out of Jeff’s eyeline, Harry grabs her hand and tugs her towards him, then shoots her a mischievous grin, like a kid with a secret. His energy is infectious, so, she returns the smile and glues herself to his side gleefully, tucking the moment they shared into a safe space in her brain.

It’s well past three in the morning by the time they’re stumbling out of the car, shushing each other repeatedly to avoid waking Rory up. Neither of them are drunk, that would be irresponsible because Rory is with them, but they are certainly not sober either. Harry has Rory’s car seat hooked on his elbow and he digs into his pocket to produce the house keys for Charlie. They ditch their shoes by the door before heading off to get ready for bed. Harry beelines toward the guest room to get Rory settled and Charlie starts doing the nightly check around the house.

Charlie is applying moisturiser when she hears gentle knocks on the door.

Harry stands behind the door in his boxers.

“Miss me already?” she teases.

He nods. Without thinking, she pinches his bottom lip that is jutting out in a pout. “Can we have a sleepover?”

She lets out a small giggle. "Okay."

He peeks into Rory’s crib before crawling into bed. The length of the day is evident in his face and yet, she can’t help but think he looks adorable with nothing but his head peeking out from under the duvet.

When they started secondary school, they had mutually agreed that they were now too old to have sleepovers. Their usual ‘boy-girl’ activities had to be minimised because they didn’t ‘like each other like that’. Despite being supportive of this decision, Harry remembers how much lonelier his life had become once they stopped spending as much time with each other. He missed getting hello and goodbye hugs, and the way they would lean against each other whenever they would watch tv. The next time they exchanged more than a brief side hug was before his audition. Charlie had grabbed his shaking hands, gave them a firm squeeze, then wrapped him in a hug so tight that he felt his breath catch. His eyes had shut on instinct from the suddenness of everything and the sudden rush of heat that zipped up his body when he felt her body press against his.

Now that Harry has acknowledged that what he feels towards Charlie goes beyond the usual ‘boy-girl’ friendship, he wants to be close to her all the time. He flips onto his belly and rests an arm over her stomach. When that faces no resistance, he curls his fingers around her waist and wiggles closer until he can feel her body heat.

“You mean so much to me,” he mumbles into the pillow, “I need to tell you how much I love you.”

Her body goes rigid under his arm. Neither of them move, their breaths audible in the silence.

“You mean a lot to me too, H,” she whispers.

He sighs.

“Sleep,” he orders, “but stay close to me.”

“Okay, I’m right here.”

Harry wakes when a cold breeze creeps its way under the duvet. Just as he reaches for the edge of the duvet, his arm is mysteriously enrobed in warmth again. It takes a second for the action to register and when it does, he forces his eyes open. With half-shut eyes, he takes in the bed he’s on – familiar but not his own.

Charlie.

He’s still on his stomach, arm stretched out over where his companion was. The rustling from the duvet as he moves to sit up against the headboard alerts the room that he’s awake. As he rubs the sleep from his eyes, he spots Charlie who is standing by the crib holding Rory.

He smiles softly at the sight. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she returns his smile. “You can go back to sleep. Rory was just a little fussy in her crib.”

“Bring her here.”

She hesitates for a moment, then makes her way back to the bed. Once Rory is placed on the soft surface, she immediately tries to walk to the middle of the bed, but the plush duvet is too much for her little limbs and she ends up plopping onto her belly with a shocked expression.

Harry giggles at the sweet girl then reaches forward to pick her up by her underarms. “C’mere,” he whispers, then kisses her chubby cheek. “Good morning, monkey.”

“She’ll start whining for breakfast soon. I can take her to the living room if you want to sleep some more.”

He shakes his head with a pout. “I wanna snuggle until breakfast.”

Rory settles against Harry’s bare chest, gnawing on her fist and slobbering all over, completely unbothered by the fact that she’s skin-to-skin with a man for the first time. Charlie joins them under the covers, eyes never leaving her daughter, trying to take in the scene before her. The thought of lying in bed with her daughter and a man she loves had never crossed her mind. Not even before Richard left the first time. Her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. Like there’s not enough space in her chest to accommodate the amount of love she feels in heart. Even though she woke up with her mind swirling from what Harry said to her before they fell asleep, right now, she can’t think of anything other than how nice this feels.

She leaves about an inch between herself and Harry which is obviously not close enough for him because he wiggles closer to her and rest his head on her shoulder. With the hand not resting on Rory’s back, Harry pats around until he finds hers and intertwines their fingers again.

Unable to help herself, Charlie comments, “You’ve been touchy recently.”

After a quiet minute, Harry asks, “Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” she replies without thinking twice.

“Can I tell you how much I love you now?”

“Okay,” her whisper is weak.

He takes a deep breath.

“I love you. And I know I love you because no one has made me feel the way you do. I’ve only just accepted that it’s different with you. No one makes me as happy, no one makes me as mad, no one makes me as jealous – I just, I could not function when we weren’t speaking, I’d never felt scared like that before, and I never want to feel like that ever again, I never want to have to worry about never getting to be with you. And you love me too, you have to.”

“Harry.” Harry’s neck aches under the strain of looking up at her. His watches her throat work as she swallows, anxious for her to say more. When she does, it comes in a small whisper, “I love you.”

She doesn’t have to force it past a knot or squeeze it out of her throat. It simply floats out of her, like a sigh of relief.

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice is shaky.

“Yeah.” Charlie’s voice is certain.

Tilting her head down to meet his eyes, she just stares at him with a stupid, toothy grin. Her best friend. Her lover.

They don’t get to say anything more because Rory knows how to pick her moments and she picks this one. She demands breakfast by wiping her slobbery hand on Harry’s chest, looking up at him expectantly.

By now they’ve spent many mornings like this – Rory sitting in her high chair while the adults move around the kitchen preparing breakfast together – and yet it’s somehow more special today. For a start, Harry and Charlie both wear small smiles the whole time, and whenever they bump into each other or cross paths their eyes dart away shyly, as if they didn’t declare their love to each other a minute ago.

Breakfast is apple cinnamon oatmeal topped with Charlie’s favourite peanut butter (that mysteriously appeared in Harry’s kitchen a couple days ago), with a side of coffee and shy glances over the top of coffee mugs.

He is the first to break the silence. “What are ya thinking about?”

“You.”

“Oh yeah,” he’s smirking now, “what about me?”

Charlie averts her gaze and shrugs coyly.

“Can I tell you what I’m thinking about?” She nods. “I’m thinking about you in that dress from last night. When I saw you in it, my first thought was: I should’ve wanked in the shower.”

“Harry!” she scolds, “My daughter is right here.”

“She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

“Is this what being in a relationship with you is like? You being incredibly inappropriate?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, getting up to put the dishes in the sink.

Behind her, Harry calls out in a tone that’s only half joking, “For real though, would you like to know?”

She stays silent just to get on his nerves. It doesn’t take long for him to get out of his chair. An arm wraps around her as his body presses up against her.

He drops his voice and whispers in her ear, “Please say you would like to know.”

“I would like to know,” she admits finally. She drops her head back to rest on his shoulder and presses a kiss to the bottom of his jaw.

His face almost immediately turns scarlet. He can’t wait to get used to this.

They next have time alone when Rory has her afternoon nap. The magic of their initial declarations of love fades a little as they sit facing each other with cups of tea on the sofa. Charlie wants to wait for Harry to break the silence, but she knows he’s taking cues from her. She knows he’s careful to not push things too fast after already taking the first step this morning.

With a deep breath, she lays all her cards on the table.

She tells him that despite how assured she is of their feelings for each other, she can’t help but feel hesitant jumping into a new relationship right now. That even though she knows that he loves Rory wholeheartedly, if they were to start dating, he would need to take a step back from Rory’s life because she can’t risk her daughter getting attached to him, only for him to disappear if things go wrong between them. That she doesn’t know if she can handle having a ‘boyfriend’ rather than a ‘partner’, because she’s not looking for someone to mess around with but someone to share half her life with.

He tells her that it’s going to be a lot harder to keep their lives to themselves once everyone notices that they’re spending more time with each other, but he’ll do his best to keep them safe. That he’s willing to go as slow as she needs because he has been waiting for years already, so he can handle waiting some more. That he understands her fears and is willing to take a step back with Rory because he’s confident that she’s it for him. That he’ll bear half her burdens if she’ll bear half of his.

“You don’t have to be Rory’s dad, by the way. Being with me will be hard enough with you living away, I don’t expect you to take on that emotional burden too.”

“Hey,” Harry pinches her chin gently to tip her head up to look at him, “I know what I’m signing up for. I want to take care and provide for Rory in whatever capacity you’ll let me. She doesn’t need to call me dad, or daddy, or anything – she can decide what who I am to her when she’s old enough – but please let me be there for her, and you. The only part of my heart that is not occupied by you is occupied by her.”

“I love you.”

“Say it again, please.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Can I kiss you now, I’ve been waiting all day?”

She barely completes her nod before Harry’s lips are on hers. His hands cup the sides of her face and their foreheads press together with eagerness. There is no hesitation. Every move intentional.

The kiss is not innocent, but needy.

Charlie runs her hands through his hair then tugs on the hair at the top of his neck to cause him to draw back.

“Wha?” he mumbles.

“I needed to see your face to make sure this is real.”

Harry’s brows furrow as if he’s in pain. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m so happy it’s you.”

She seals their mouths together again, tilting her head just right to get more of him. Needing to anchor herself, her hands move to his shoulders, clutching on to him as if she’s scared he’ll just disappear.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss. They kiss until they run out of breath, then dive right back in after a few hurried puffs of air. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.

Harry has to physically peel himself off of Charlie to get himself to stop. Not that he particularly wanted to stop, he was just getting a little too lightheaded. Both from the giddiness of finally getting to taste her and forgetting to breathe out of excitement. He looks drunk with his slow movements and half-lidded eyes. He feels a little high if he’s being honest.

Not wanting to be too far from her, he rests his forehead on her shoulder and starts giggling to himself.

He can’t believe his luck.

Harry’s been crawling into the guest bed every night since. Sleeping in the same bed is not exactly ‘taking it slow’ but when he couldn’t sleep alone anymore after experiencing what it’s like waking up with Charlie, especially when she’s just across the hall.

Lots of good chats have happened in this bed. They’ve discussed how their long distance relationship is going to look like, when they would tell Anne about their new relationship, and whether she’ll be less reluctant to receive his gifts now that they are more than friends.

It’s my love language. The more things you let me buy you, the more I know you love me. She rolled her eyes so hard.

“Are you ever going to tell me which songs on the album are about me?” she asks when they’re curled into each other one night.

“Lots of my songs are about you, or could be about you, but guess.”

“Matilda?”

“Mmhm,” he affirms. “There’s another.”

She hesitates a little. “Boyfriends?” she asks softly.

“No,” he replies immediately, “if I were to write a song about Richard it would be so blatant and damning that he would be embarrassed to show his face in public again.”

“That’s a little dramatic even for you, rockstar.” After giving it another think, she admits defeat. “I don’t know the other. Tell me.”

“It’s Satellite.”

“Really? I like that one.”

“Yeah.” His voice grows soft. “I actually wrote it long ago, just never felt right on the other albums, but I um … I revisited it after that night. After meeting Rory for the first time.”

“Oh.”

“Turns out I’ve wanted to be with you for years. Knowing that you had a child with Richard made me so envious – he got to be a part of your life in a way that I thought I’d never get a chance to. I didn’t wanna just be in your orbit anymore, I wanna be with you.”

“You’re with me now. You’re here.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I know Keep Driving is definitely not about me and frankly, I’m glad. You need to keep that shit to yourself from now on.”

“So … you don’t want me singing about how satisfied I make you?” he asks in jest.

“If you plan on making me listen to you sing about us having sex next to your mum and sister, we will never have sex .” When he starts to chuckle, she threatens again, “I’m being serious. I’ve gone over a year without having sex, and I can go longer.”

“That’s because you were having sex with small dick Richard. When I get to love on you the way I want to, you’ll want to let everyone know how good I make you feel.”

“You’re talking big game Mr. Watermelon Sugar.”

Harry pinches her chin to tip her head up. With his lips about an inch from hers, his says in a low voice, “And I plan on delivering.”

He seals his promise by slotting their lips together for what feels like the thousandth time that evening.

After Charlie falls asleep in his arms, Harry forces his eyes to stay open so that he can maximise his time with his best girls. When he can’t fight sleep any longer, his mutters one last ‘I love you’ and drifts off knowing that he’ll get to spend time with his favourite family again the next morning.

“Good evening Manchester!” Harry shouts into the microphone. The roar of the crowd widens the grin on his face. “Thank you for choosing to spend your evening with us. I promise that this is going to be a very, very special show.”

He slowly makes his way onto the runway.

“I always love playing shows here because this is basically a hometown show for me. And I don’t know if you guys feel it, but I feel like there is something in the air tonight. Something quite magical.”

The crowd erupts once again.

It’s probably not good practice to talk up one venue too much, that’s why most artists have a pretty standard spiel for every night, but he can’t help himself tonight. Even if he didn’t say it, everyone in the stadium could probably feel it. There is more pep in his step and the adrenaline rushing through his veins has never been this aggressive.

“Manchester, I have a special request for all of you.” He puts a finger to his lips as if he is a shushing the audience. “There are some important audience members amongst you today. So, I need all of you to go extra crazy and have an extra good time, because I’ve got some people to impress. Can you do that for me?

“This next song is for my best friend.”

Harry gets swallowed by screams as the intro to Late Night Talking starts to play.

liked by harryupdates, harryfan1, and 2,821 others

hstourupdates harry on stage in manchester tonight during late night talking

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harryfan1 wait who did he say that to?

harryfan2 i think he was talking to anne and gemma because he did that in their direction

↳ stylesontour there was another woman with a baby standing with them

↳ directioner1 it was his best friend charlie with them and harry was photographed with her daughter a while ago

↳ stylesfan1 wait what if he was pointing to charlie's baby because he kept looking at them and doing little waves 😩

harryfan3 to be harry's best friend 😭

taglist: @harrysfolklore @behindmygreyeyes @suspectedstyles @celestial-holland @xcaitlin101x @outofthisworl-d @haz-nn @zaynshoes @lissymarie22@duh-dobrik @harrysfinelines @rach2602 @percysaidnever @sunshinemoonsposts @sqrlgrl22

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #bestfriend!harry #dad!harry #harry styles dad #harry styles bestfriend

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adamworu · 3 months

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hii i just wanted to say thank you for the years uve been posting eva and hyper-analyzing the series and kaworu especially .. i found ur blog after watching the series back when the Kaworu Database consisted mostly of soundboards and shit like that and despite my waning interest in the series ive not had the impulse to unfollow u. which is weird for me, because at the ripe age of 26 there’s a lot about nge that doesnt sit right with me anymore.

i got my boyfriend to watch NGE and the rebuilds with me and found myself genuinely ashamed way more than i’d anticipated. the last movie was the nail in the coffin for me specifically because of, let’s face it, the surplus of self-aware asuka fanservice. i was repulsed and denounced my interest in the series entirely. it was difficult to make such a claim because of how important to me the series was (still is, if im being honest) and how pivotal it was to my growth at the time i first watched it.

saw one of your posts on my dash today and went to take a casual look at your blog cuz i was curious as to how you were faring in the sea of eva content after a solid 10 years. looked at one of your posts explaining what nge is at its core and the messages it means to send and How it sends them and found myself falling back into the mindset of “fuck, i missed this shit.”

i appreciate how many years you’ve spent looking at evangelion as a piece of psychological horror, how many years you’ve spent dissecting it under a microscope with 50000x magnification. you’ve been the Only thing that’s brought eva back to the front of my feeble little brain over the past, idk five years or so, and youve now been the reason why i can still appreciate the series despite its flaws. you don’t focus on those flaws and it reads that you do so not because you don’t care, but because they’re obvious and don’t need to be stated. im starting to ramble and im sorry that this ask was long but dming you felt too.. personal despite this message being exactly that.

TL;DR, thank you for analyzing evangelion and kaworu nagisa for many years and singlehandedly reminding me of all the reasons why i enjoyed the series as much as i did when i first watched it. i know your interest in eva is waning, so thank you for what youve given the world over the last 10 years <3

Thank you ever so much! This blog sort of started as a way for me to navigate Eva myself. It's been 10 years and though my passion has fizzled, I still get those visceral feelings of Eva no matter what. It always pulls me in. I still have some of that juice left in me, but mostly I found other source material at the moment I'm highkey obsessed over (I'll give you a hint: cult classic, starts with V, ends with D). It's not all bad. I hope you have a wonderful day :)

#ty for this!#starting to realize my superpower is intense fixation on things with little screentime #and writing dissertations on them lol #i sort of want to talk about that new material in question here - much like kaworu i am Very Normal about it #another hint: it's 'horror/dark fantasy'

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eddiemunsonswhxre · 5 months

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where have i been?

an update for those curious.

hey there my loves, long time no see.

i’m not sure how many of you will actually read this or care to see why i haven’t written in over a year now but typing this stuff out helps me process and get back into my groove.

well, today is january 16, 2024. the last thing i posted that was an actual one shot was posted on january 3, 2023. i haven’t written since. 2023 was my worst year yet and caused me to learn a lot about people and myself.

things were going alright in the beginning, i was in my second semester of college and my biggest problem was 2 of my 3 roommates (lived in a quad) hated each other so me and my bestie/3rd roommate had to play mediator and it was exhausting. i started liking a guy and got my hopes up. and i started to get more and more annoyed with school and my living situation every day. i was ecstatic to move out of that room despite hating my hometown. the day of move out, one of my roommates who i thought was someone very close to me blocked me and all of our friends on everything with no explanation but we knew she wasn’t coming back for 23-24.

i like where i grew up for a maximum of a week at a time, after that my depression just kicks my ass and im not having a great time. my plan for the summer was to work my ass off so much so that i wouldn’t have time to think of anything else. that backfired, because a few days after i came home one of my two jobs fell through unexpectedly and my other job was giving me less than half the hours they promised me. i was broke. everyone says it’s so easy to get a job these days because everyone is hiring but i applied to over ten places within a reasonable distance from me and didn’t get a single one. so i spent too much time with myself and that’s not normally a good thing.

to make matters even worse, in june my mom was sentenced to three years in prison for a crime she committed back in 2020. i don’t want to get into too many specifics, but my mom would never harm anyone she just has struggled with addiction. my mom was my constant emotional support, and knowing she was no longer going to be around ripped me to shreds. not even a month later after my mom was shipped off to prison, my dog died. and i know you might think “dogs die all the time it’s a pet.” but my dog was much more than that. she wasn’t even three years old and was a beautiful great pyrenees german shepard mix and she was the sweetest girl ever. i don’t care how ridiculous it sounds, because i know my soul and hers were meant to be together. i was even in the process of registering her as an emotional support animal so i could take her to college with me because she was finally old enough and for the most part out of the puppy phase. but one night out of nowhere she got really sick and within an hour of her showing signs something was wrong she died while i was holding her. not the greatest thing for a 19 year old who’s already struggling to experience. it took my over a month to stop seeing her like that every time i closed my eyes. call me dramatic, but that dog really was a child to me.

after that, i went to stay with my cousin for a few weeks and that was nice but i still knew i wasn’t feeling right. i moved back to school in august and had way too high of hopes that everything would fix itself. surprise, it didn’t. in fact, i just got worse. i reached lows i haven’t hit in over two years. i was having roommate problems, i was trying to do way too much at once, and i was neglecting my health. i had a breakdown.

the highlight of my semester was taking a week off to visit my best friend since age 2 for her birthday (she lives roughly a 2 hour plane ride away from me now) with our other two best friends. then i came back and immediately totaled my car. my car was a piece of shit yes, but it got me places. not having a car when you’re a person who drives around to destress is not fun. i was even worse mentally at this point and i was trying so so hard to get into my overbooked doctor to get my medications raised. the only constant i had were my three friends at school and my studies. so i threw myself into them. i was never alone and if i was i was nose deep in a text book. i was just avoiding the rest of my existence. i was able to get my meds upped and decided i was done wallowing. i started a diet that is actually manageable and enjoyable and discovered for the first time workouts that i actually liked doing. it was something small, but i knew i was turning myself around.

i went home for winter break knowing it was going to be tough. i also had to spend this time looking for a new car. it was an extremely stressful process to say the least. but i focused on myself, taking all the time for myself that i needed and processing everything that had made me get to such a bad place. i’ve always been very spiritual, so i dove more into that as well as trusting the universe.

i’ve decided that 2024 will be my best year yet. i got a new car, im getting a new job, im doing great in school, my mom is getting released from prison literally six hours after i post this, and im taking care of myself in more ways than one. while doing a lot of that reflecting, i remembered how much i used to love to write and how that passion just died after loving it since i was ten. i started small, doing short story exercises and getting into reading again. i finally, after an entire year, have my passion for writing back.

i can’t promise i’ll be consistent with uploads because i’ve decided that my goal for the year is to write a novel. so that project is going to be my main focus and it isn’t anything fanfic related, it’s actually a psychological thriller. more than likely i will be asking for opinions on here throughout the year as well.

with that said, my plans this year for this blog are to keep posting. eddie munson is mainly who i write for, but i want to expand my horizons. i want to challenge myself with genres and types of characters. i will greatly appreciate any requests you can give and i promise i will read through them. if i don’t post them right away, just know it may come out three months later. sometimes inspiration sparks at weird times.

if you’ve read this far, thank you. i hope this can inspire you to see that there’s light at the end of the tunnel but sometimes you’ve gotta dig the extra dirt to it yourself. beyond thankful to anyone who was here a year ago and has come back to read my new stuff- you made an aspiring writer really proud of herself.

much much love

-eddiemunsonswhxre 🤍

#eddiemunsonswhxre #i’m back #mental health is important

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quodekash · 2 years

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A Way Too In-Depth Over-Analysis of Sorvus

I apologise in advance. For all of this. There’s a lot. These guys have inserted themselves into every empty renting space in my brain and uprooted all the taken spaces and moved in to everything. So to appease my brain I had to do this and then it just kept going. Also I’m Australian, so I have different spellings of some words, like “favourite” and you’re just gonna have to deal with that. Also also warning for very long paragraph rambles from me.

You’re literally gonna get the entire story here but with commentary at every paragraph. And sometimes four times in one paragraph. Anyway.

1. “For weeks” means they’ve spent heaps of time together, and using this instance as a guide, probably with no one but them. They’ve progressively learnt more and more about each other, yet later Soren is still super bright and excited to learn that Corvus’ favourite season is autumn, and that’s just so pure.

2. I would like to see this please.

3. “[…]lost most of the time” implies that Corvus won sometimes. teLL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT EVERY SINGLE ONE PLS I NEED TO KNOW WHICH ONES CORVUS WON (and yeah I also just need more Sorvus content but what can I say, they mean everything to me)

4. Corvus could probably just not participate, or tell Soren he’s too tired, or something along those lines. And yet he always tries his best, he still does it despite knowing he’ll probably lose. The fact that he’s not avoiding the challenges tells us that Corvus truly appreciates Soren’s friendship/companionship/company/etc and is fully willing to do tasks that he’s not great at to spend time with Soren and put a smile on his face. And you can’t tell me that’s not love, whether romantic or platonic or whatever. Honestly, if Corvus’ top love language is anything, I’d say it’s quality time. The other four just don’t quite fit, and, from the little we see of Corvus on screen, it seems like he’s most content when spending time with his favourite people. As for Soren, you could argue his love language is literally any of them. But I think his top two are words of affirmation and quality time - he was always so invalidated his whole life, mostly by his own father (I swear I’ll make a post of this at some point). His mother left, his father neglected him, his sister betrayed him. That’s gotta bring trust issues. So after all that, he’d appreciate someone telling him he’s worth it and telling him they love him. He’d appreciate spending time with those he loves, not even doing anything, just sitting and enjoying each other’s company, without his flaws being pointed out, without the stress of trying to keep his family together, just sitting there and loving and breathing and being.

1. This part could be a metaphor?? Corvus wants to go further with relationships at an easy pace where Soren wants to speed it up? Corvus is more of a peaceful person and Soren is scared of losing people and missing out on particular moments of relationships so he tries to experience it all at once?? It’s entirely possible I’m reading too far into this but I’m treating this like a school assignment, where you have to read too far into everything. You decide whether this is a good interpretation or not, I can’t decide.

2.a. If Soren has mentioned it “every time”, that implies a few things. The first is that they go up there enough for Soren to mention it a lot. Soren has a favourite place in the entire castle, and he wants to share it with Corvus (and there’s no one up there but them ;] IM KIDDING- or am I? Honestly I can’t tell, you decide.) 2.b. The second thing is that Corvus has heard Soren talk about this part of the castle a lot. But there’s not even the slightest hint of description of Corvus’ annoyance at having to listen to Soren constantly say this is one of his favourite places, he just lets him tell him, over and over. It’s getting little personal here, but Soren totally has ADHD, which makes my job easier bc I also have ADHD. 2.b.ii. I personally forget all the time if I’ve told this particular person this particular story/fact/whatever it is or not, so I constantly tell the same story over and over. It feels exciting bc each time it feels like I’m telling them for the first time, since I don’t remember the previous times. So when the person/people I’m talking to don’t lost their patience or get annoyed or anything when I tell them something I’ve already told them, and instead they just react like it’s the first time they’ve heard it, it feels really validating. So I’m thinking Soren feels the same, and Corvus not showing a hint of annoyance despite hearing this a lot feels really good to my neurodivergent brain and probably feels good to Soren’s, too.

1. Corvus. Notices things. About. Soren. And not just recently, it’s “a long time ago”, meaning he’s observed Soren and committed his habits to memory for years. I love them.

2. ADHDDDDDDD

3. He ✨cares✨

1. Something about the way this is worded is so beautiful. A sentence of peaceful description in the midst of casual dialogue. It makes it feel like they’re one person, staring at the beautiful view, taking it all in, together with each other but alone from anyone else to distract them from the gorgeous autumn horizon.

1. Like I said earlier (by earlier, I mean the literal first thing I said. There’s still a lot to go. This thing is called a way too in-depth over-analysis for a reason), Soren is so purely excited with the knowledge that Corvus’ favourite season is autumn. Autumn, the season they’re presently in. Meaning, for a few months, Corvus is always experiencing his favourite season, meaning he’s probably always feeling some amount of happiness/content, and the thought that Corvus is happy makes Soren happy.

2. They’re both just standing on a castle, next to each other, and staring out at nature. It probably feels like they’re the only people in the world. If they’re the only people, then to each of them, the most important thing in existence is (probably) the other. It also might be a metaphor to something, but I can’t figure out what it is. It’s possible the metaphor is something I’ve already mentioned. But if anyone thinks of anything, please lemme know, it’s an itch I can’t reach so if anyone can, please scratch it for me. (I made a metaphor about not being able to figure out a metaphor. Metaphor-caption or something, idk man)

3. Such a simple statement. Standing in such a relaxed way. He’s at peace, while alone with one of the most energetic people like ever.

1. That’s a date. Surely I’m not the only one seeing this, right? Soren, you’re describing a date. Idk if you realised, but that’s a date. You’ve just suggested a date. And Corvus will say yes.

2. Soren’s horrified that Corvus would possibly be mistreated. He’s also, more importantly, scared that it wasn’t mistreatment but Corvus’ choice, because if it was a choice then Corvus might not like beds and castles and other people and Soren can’t handle the thought that Corvus might leave him, just like everyone else he’s ever loved and trusted.

3. Help now I’m picturing little forest dates, with picnics and lying next to each other, staring at the canopy of leaves above them, and glancing at each other every time the other looks away and smiling and holding hands and Soren lying with his head on Corvus’ chest and a leaf falling right on Soren’s face and Corvus’ laugher rumbling his belly and making Soren sit up and throw the leaf at him and they laugh and smile and talk and they’re in love help

1. I kinda touched on this earlier, but Soren can’t fathom the idea of being without Corvus. Probably because of losing his entire family so Corvus is just about all Soren’s got left. And he’s really scared that he’ll lose him, too, and losing everyone would make Soren lost; lost and alone and scared and vulnerable and he needs a hug i volunteer as tribute and shut up that’s possible this is my post i make the rules but if i cant hug him then i volunteer Corvus as tribute

2. (Yes we’re talking about sentence structure. This is a way too in-depth over-analysis, get over it already man.) It’s repeated that something is bothering Soren. Repetition means emphasis, that the author wants us to know that it’s an important thing, so they say it a couple times. Something is bothering Soren, and that bothers Corvus. He wants to help Soren and get rid of this thing that’s bothering him (probably).

3. Let me translate what Soren is trying to say here: “What about me? Do you like me?” He’s seeking validating and wanting to get Corvus to stay, because without Corvus he has nothing.

1. Translation again: “I like you. I trust you. And trust is really important now, with everything that’s happened. There was a war. Everyone I’ve ever trusted betrayed me or left me. So please date me join the crown guard with me so I have more opportunities to ask you to date me it’s really big that I trust you so much, because I’ve been having issues with trust.”

2. I have asd!corvus head canons, so eye contact here is really important and rare

1. He’s paying attention to him.

2. I like to imagine he did finger guns

1. Imagine how this went down. “I like corvus a lot” “yeah, he’s great! I want him to stay in katolis but hes more at home in the forest-“ “corvus should be crown guard… I really trust him.” “-yeah, cos you’re in love with him- I trust him too. You should ask him to date you join.” (ez totally ships it and tries to set them up a lot and you cant tell me otherwise)

1. He’s trying to avoid Corvus seeing the truth in his eyes; that he doesn’t want Corvus to go, that he loves Corvus, that without Corvus he doesn’t know who or even what he is, because Corvus is all he has left.

2. I know this is like an emotional flicker or whatever, but what if it’s literally pain and wounds that are hidden behind his protective armour? Soren broke like all his bones. There’s almost no way he doesn’t still get flashes/twinges of pain (I feel like there’s some kind of medical term for that but I’ve forgotten what it is). He definitely doesn’t tell anyone about it, but probably gets flashes of pain every so often, and Corvus has somehow managed to pick up on that. Maybe.

1. People with ADHD are often over-thinkers (at least I think so? I don’t have any sources for it but I’m an over-thinker and so is everyone I know with ADHD. So probably.), so Corvus said it “as plainly as he could” to stop Soren from over-thinking it and spiralling. He gets it out, doesn’t stall, doesn’t mislead, doesn’t confuse. Just says it, and there it is, and Soren is so happy

1. I’ll admit it, I’m still thoroughly confused by this part but it’s fine cos they’re both happy and that makes me happy.

and that’s all the shenanigans i have for you today. if you made it this far, flipping wow, because there is quite literally more analysis here than there is story.

but that’s not all from me.

no, i have eight notes on my phone ready for things to be added to them, and theyll be here… at some point. if you wanna be notified when i post them you can follow me i guess. or go to the tag at the bottom of each of these posts, ‘tdp rambles with bj’ (hopefully it’s worked) and you can follow that or something? idk. sorry, im bad at self-promos. uhh. yeah. anyway this was fun, im so tired but so thrilled to finally have all my thoughts out in once place. stay calm and ship sorvus, everyone.

Have a gay day! -BJ

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theguardianace · 5 months

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Hi love how's your day been so far ^-^

i think i might actually explode what a time to be a rui fan. new alt vocal (THAT IVE WANTED SINCE THE SONG WAS ANNOUNCED IVE WANTED THIS FOR OVER A YEAR AND IT WAS EVERYTHING I EVER IMAGINED IT WOULD BE) absolute BANGER of a commissioned song (cyberpunk dead boy is 1. catchy 2. catchy 3. my new favorite rui song. and LAM did the art which is so fkdsajfkdsjfjalsjf PERFECT choice) and CYBERPUNK SET !!!!!!! CYBERPUNK RUI !!!!

THIS IS SO COOL !!!!!!!!!!!

also i'm a huge fan of tsukasa's card and emu's outfit :)

im quite scared for the event itself translations aren't up yet and the untrained scares me. the card is called "overheard words" so i think someone is talking bad about either him or his troupe and i cannot take that!! and neither will he. he's spent too long finding a home in those three after being cast out for so long. he 1. does not need to go through rejection again and 2. will absolutely murder someone if they so much as glance at the others badly (he has. absolutely destroyed emu's brother in an early event when he said her dreams are "stupidly childish")

and also ajr literally just posted a music video for one of my favorite ever songs by them and gave it such a nice meaning!! the song is about being in an abusive relationship with someone, knowing that, but not being able to hate them despite. the video showed jack getting up from a therapist's couch in an empty field, running, and then getting timelooped whenever a giant hand squished him. i think the hand symbolizes the person who's manipulating his life and causing him to feel so stuck and hopeless, like there's no escape from their influence. but!! at the end!!! it is revealed the hand is actually his own! and he finds a way to come to peace with the giant version of him. self love? i thought it was a good twist. well done.

anyways as i was typing this i realized its midnight in japan which means WHAT A TIME TO BE A RUI FAN HAS RETURNED. EIGHT new full versions of wxs covers dropping >:) god and then tomorrow is the stream where they tell us new stuff and one song has already been leaked. and im not ok about it FJKSDJFKLSJFKLSD I LOVE THAT SONG IVE WANTED IT SINCe I HEARD IT I LOVE THE ARTIST SM. AND IT GETS A 3DMV and those have been FIRE recently.

anyways. yeah im doing well how about you?

#i have not felt this alive in weeks #months even #oh also classes just started back up!!! i'll let you know how those are going tomorrow :)#sol's cat asks!

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auroroaka · 1 year

Text

The End is Nigh progress!

Here are my current stats! I just achieved 100% today because I finished up Super Mega Cart. I really enjoy the carts in this game, I love the visual style, the bit sized style, it just feels so good to do a round of 10 rooms and then practice until you can do them deathless! The main game is also incredibly fun, I had so much finding the secrets throughout the game, the game feels so alive, it plays so nicely. It's just so much fun!

Here's my current progress in the carts. I got some great things done today. I started off by finishing up Acceptance, that is one of the first long form consistency tests I've done and it was so much fun, I really enjoyed practicing and learning everything up to it. And then world 5 is such a beautifully done sight read challenge. I absolutely love odd asynchronous cycles and taking my time to analyze them ahead of time. My first run in world 5 ended in the final row at the top row when I tried to jump over a ghost that was simply too high for me to go over. It was a rough death but it didn't hurt because I was confident in my ability to get back there and that the road back there would be a lot of fun. I also spent probably 20 mins just staring at the ghosts figuring them out and it was super rewarding. Also world 4 is beautifully designed gameplay for messing with your nerves, those balloon platforms along with the time pressure are brilliant but world 4 is definitely the easiest to execute, I love how nerves impact it. My second time to world 5 I died on 5-2 by jumping the gun on a ghost, my third time returning to world 5 would be my successful attempt. I went through it far faster than I thought I would. My lovely girlfriend Lucy who has done everything in the game aside from Dead God, gave me some great advice. It was along the lines of "keep going and stop when you have to" I interpreted it as, moving forward being the default, which is kind of an aggressive playstyle which feels good to play with. Lucy is such a great source of help for difficult games. She gave me so much great advice for both of my Cave Story 3 HP runs, one being on hard mode in Cave Story +, she taught me how to make the undead core fight way more manageable. Regular core was so difficult in that.

I also completed Scab or Die deathless! Also don't be fooled this is not a photo taken with my phone, the game has a really good CRT filter for the carts. This was so fun to learn and do deathless, I love the cycle strat I came up with for 3, the muscle memory for the drops in 4 felt so nice. I found a fast but safe platform cycle on 5. 6 is definitely the hardest room but Lucy had a great idea that she came up for it, in that room you have to deal with spikes coming up from the floor and receding at a rhythm and jumping up and making progress without dying requires precise timing but she found a great strategy. You basically take advantage of the game's coyote time (time after walking off the ground where you are still allowed to jump despite not being on the floor) and it makes it much easier however it is still incredibly difficult. 7 I found a cute strat where I can be safer doing something more precise. I have to try avoiding touching a block but if I hit the block there's no punishment since you can just return to the previous screen and reset the room. 9 was a great room to learn, though I died there once. And then this image I posted, this is the final screen, I died once by running into the pit at the start, it was silly, I didn't die to that room after I respawned. But I preserved and eventually I got back there and beat screen 10 without dying to it elsewhere, I cut some gaps really close but I did it! I'm looking forward to completing the rest of what's there to do in this game. I really like The End is Nigh cart, im excited to do that deathless. Thank you for reading! I wish you a very nice day!

#FluffyRoaka

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worstdream · 11 months

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fictional others?

( apologies for taking so long to get around to this , something happened yesterday the first time i was trying to write a response and it made me have to take a break before coming back around to it >< )

ahh yes .. this ones a bit of a doozy t get into if im bein honest lol , but despite that he who is unlucky would be lying if he said he doesnt enjoy talking about it nonetheless ..

i wanna start off by saying that i dont even really consider them 'fictional others' , nor do i consider my relationships with them 'self shipping' .. rather , i mostly just use those terms because im too lazy to make up my own* , and because i find it more convenient to just use commonly used terms so that others understand ..!

i take my relationships very seriously , including those that are not currently in this time or life .. i still consider myself to be with them despite not having them around me currently .. ♪ i consider all of my relationships very real , i do not consider them fictional , or the people i have said relationships with ..

almost all of my relationships are because of source / memory things .. although many are simply because i fell in love with them in this world and life ..! despite not having 'known' them or been with them as long as my memory related relationships , and not having already spent a life with them in the past , they are still equally as important to me and i will continue to pursue them within the life i have now ..!!

the relationships themselves can vary as well .. some i am married to , others im not , some have 'odd' felings attached that arent strictly or necessarily romantic .. ♪ and many i have multiple types of attractions towards , which can be fluid and often fluctuate between .. because of those , i would say i have rather 'complicated' relationships with many , or at least most other people would probably think of it that way ..!

if youd like to ask me about specific f.os , i have a quite a lot to choose from (ノωヽ) , although i dont actually have a proper list to show others at the moment ( i should really do that >< ) .. lately though , his cuteness has been thinking a lot about sal and larry ( sally face ) , as well as piers and raihan ( always thinking about them , theyre his husbands and soulmates (*ﾉ∀`*) ) <33 (´꒳`)♡

ive been thinking about going and finding a selfship ask game post to reblog .. ive been getting quite a bit of attention ( at least , on one post ^^; ) so im hoping that someone would see it and send me things for the game ..!

*; custom terms are cool , but i dont really have any compulsion to use them in this context .. i am more than happy simply referring to them as my partners , because thats what they are .. ♪

#˗ˏˋ꒰ ☾ ꒱ „ wandering spirits ”#˗ˏˋ꒰ ♡ ꒱ „ copy that copycat ”#proship #profic #proship safe #anti anti #pro fiction #antis dni #selfship #proship selfship #proselfship #selfshipping

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