#(I can tell the producer had a fun time making the music ehe. The sound effects add a whimsical touch to this fantastic song 😁😌)

[lilacharry]

Tongue Tied

Inspired by true events

“Y/N,” James seemed to bark, snapping Y/N back into reality. She had been sat recording some material for a popular late night talk show and the group had veered into unknown territory for her. Something about the discomfort of one of the other guests having to shoot a very intimate scene in front of their partner’s spouse. Y/N had never been put in such a situation and felt it would have been better to remain quiet on her end of the couch.

“Yes!” She laughed, startled at the sudden call of her name.

“I’ve heard that you throw massive, major parties,” James smiled, his cards covering his mouth as he leaned back into his seat.

“Kind of,” Y/N answered with suspicion, eyeing the audience, “I mean, they’re not that big-”

“No, they’re massive! We had Derek on a few months ago and he said that you have a venue with three different rooms just for different genres of music,” James spoke feverishly, his hands outstretched.

“I mean,” Y/N trailed as she shuffled in her seat, “yeah... but he’s making it seem a lot bigger than it is-”

“I have never been so offended in my life to not have received an invitation,” James threw his hands up.

“You would come?” Y/N laughed, clasping her hands in front of her crossed legs.

“You say that like it’s absurd? Have you got something against fuller bodied men dancing the night away? Do you think I’ll embarrass you?” James jokingly scoffed.

“I didn’t get an invitation, either,” Harry piped from the other end of the couch, raising his index finger.

That was one voice Y/N had been trying to ignore the entire night. She had been a fan ever since she was younger and had done a good job of avoiding meeting the celebrity at other gatherings. She had not been sure how she would act if she ever had the opportunity to properly meet him and decided on playing it safe by actively avoiding events and locations she knew he frequented. That was until one of the producers on the Late Late show had lied to her about Harry’s presence on the show that particular night.

Everyone seemed to know of Y/N’s plans to avoid Harry Styles and took great joy in trying to get the two in a room. Judging by how flustered Y/N would even get when the young man’s name was brought up, everybody thought it would be a delight to surprise her with his presence. She had done a wonderful job of wising up to everybody’s intentions, so far. She had started to decline last minute invitations for random parties from her close friends ever since that one incident. She had had a little wine in her system and been grinding on one of her gyrating friends one night—as a joke—when someone had started recording on their phone. It was when she went to look up from her friend pretending to spank her, to see Harry enter the party. The video was quite amusing, seeing her eyes widen in fear as she’s filmed booking it out of frame. Since then, whenever she would decline sudden invitations to gatherings, she would wake up to see that he had attended said event the next morning while scrolling through her social media feed. She knew why her friend, Florence, would try to arrange last minute brunches with her as Y/N knew Florence’s boyfriend was great friends with Harry and had shared in Florence’s attempts to get her to meet him. She had gone about two years of avoiding the male, but, alas, here she was two cushions over from him. She blamed her sudden bout of placidity on the fact that she didn’t want to say or do anything embarrassing in front of him, but James had kept poking fun at her and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“Then is it just against the British, Y/N?” James scowled.

“Well, most people that come out are either very Hispanic or love latin music and are, like, professional dancers,” Y/N’s face burned as she explained.

“What? Do we not look like professionals?” James egged her on.

“No, I’m sure you’re great dancers. But, it’s also back in San Francisco,” Y/N reasoned with a little shrug of her shoulders, “you would make the trip out?”

“Invite us, and you’ll find out,” James commented with a little giggle, “no, seriously, though, do you really need three different rooms?”

“Well, if people prefer one specific genre it’s kinda nice,” Y/N explained.

“Like what?” Harry asked, trying to make eye contact with the woman that had been avoiding his gaze since the beginning of the show.

“Eh, last time we had one for salsa, bachata, and tropical, and the main room had food and, like... I don’t mean to sound crass, but like... white people music,” Y/N grimaced at the term, “I’m sorry! I don’t know how else to describe it. They also play other music, but more like music that you can kind of... I don’t know...”

“That’s very offensive, Y/N,” James gawked before laughing out.

“Like top 40!” Harry came to Y/N’s rescue.

“Yes, like top 40!” Y/N laughed, and Harry smiled at her nose scrunching in the process.

“So there were four rooms, in total?” James suddenly realized.

“Yes, but it sounds bigger than it really is,” Y/N shook her head, .

“Oh, stop minimizing the party you didn’t invite us to,” James narrowed his eyes at Y/N.

“I’ll make sure to invite you to the next one; we have great food, too,” Y/N leaned back in her seat, uncomfortable with being called out for something she didn’t know she had done wrong.

“I hate that that’s where your mind automatically went,” James feigned offense. In all reality, James knew how timid Y/N was being and the reasoning behind it. He knew her character and knew she would never say anything to offend him, but he was enjoying taking advantage of the situation.

“No! That’s not what I meant,” Y/N’s eyes seemed to bug out of her skull.

“And for your information, I’m quite the athlete when it comes to dancing,” James turned his nose up at Y/N.

“Athlete? What all do you know how to dance?” Harry rolled his eyes as he reached for his drink that had been set on the coffee table in front of them.

“I can absolutely murder the dance floor whenever white people music comes on,” James earned a laugh from the audience, “Y/N what are you best at? Or do you know all of the ones you mentioned?”

“Sort of,” Y/N smiled and shrugged, “I’m better at others, but nothing too fancy. I know, like, the basics of a lot of them just because my mom knew so much and taught me, growing up.”

“Here at Late, Late, we do not tolerate liars,” James began before turning to the monitor behind him, “and Derek sent us this and I’d like to see what you have to say.”

A clip came on where Y/N had been shown being led by one of her companions around a dance floor, making Y/N laugh out.

“Explain that, Y/N!” James pointed at the monitor, “’nothing too fancy’—that’s professional. What’s that, then? Bit of salsa?”

“Yes... but I’m actually not that good at it,” Y/N explained.

“I hate you,” James teased, “could you teach us something?”

“Sure... Now?” Y/N questioned, raising her brows.

“Yeah, you know just something quick and very complex,” James laughed as Y/N looked over to a producer that had been waving at the group to start wrapping up, “eh... our producers are waving at us. Can we do a little something when we come back?”

“I’ll teach you when you come to the next one,” Y/N offered after they got a negative response from one of the producers.

“I’m already looking forward to it,” James responded before turning to outstretch his hand to Harry, “will you be my date?”

“If I’m invited, yes!” Harry grabbed a hold of James’ hand before the two turned to look at Y/N.

“Of course! Did you want one, as well?” Y/N quickly diverted attention to the long forgotten third guest who had been seated between her and Harry.

The rest of the show went along smoothly enough; with Y/N staying somewhat reserved and not making even more of a complete fool of herself. The show had soon wrapped and she was soon caught in a storm of questions and demands from her team as they swept her away from set. She tried to politely excuse herself with one last general farewell, but was enamored with how Harry had reached out to shake her hand and tell her it had been nice to meet her. She felt light headed as she was urged to continue away to the room that had been assigned to her, backstage.

+ + +

“Was that really so bad, now?” Martin, the producer that had invited her onto the show, came walking into her dressing room as Y/N and her team had started to pack up.

“I made a complete and utter fool of myself,” Y/N cried out, covering her face with her palms, “I actually said white people music!”

“He knew you didn’t mean it like that,” Martin brushed off her embarrassment as he leaned in the doorframe.

“I can’t believe you did that to me; I’m just thankful I didn’t pass out,” Y/N remarked as her hands dropped to her side before she reached out to grab a hold of one of her bags.

“He thought you were lovely,” Martin rolled his eyes, “and he’s really looking forward to that invitation, Y/N.”

“What makes you say that?” Y/N furrowed her brows as more people seemed to shuffle out of the room.

“I heard him ask James to let him know if you ended up sending the invitation, since you didn’t take his number,” Martin grinned as he crossed his arms over his chest, “even after James told him he wouldn’t want to make the trip out there. Said he’s genuinely curious as to how such a gathering would go, but I think he’s just taken a liking to you.”

“How? I barely spoke the entire time we were in the same room,” Y/N huffed out.

“Dunno; maybe he knows you’re a fan and wants to make your wildest dreams come true,” Martin wiggled his brows at her, earning a scoff from Y/N.

“Can we talk about this nonsense later?” Y/N widened her eyes before going to wrap her arm around Martin.

“Fine; was nice seeing you,” Martin hugged her back, “let me know when the next shin-dig is so I can tell your boyfriend.”

“Oh my God,” Y/N laughed as she made her way to the hallway.

+ + +

A few weeks later, Y/N’s phone had startled her when it rang out in the middle of a dinner she had planned with some friends. Upon glancing at the device, she found Martin’s name at the top of the message, but thought nothing of it and forgot of its existence—she didn’t like having her phone out at dinner, in the first place. It wasn’t until the next morning when she had unlocked her phone to find the message:

H is asking if there’s any word on that party ... What shall I tell him?

Under the first message was:

I’ll give him your number ???

Y/N chewed on her lower lip as she wondered if Martin had already gone through with giving Harry her number and if there were any negatives to his suggestion. She didn't see why not...

Morning! Sorry; just saw your message! Yeah; go ahead! ☺️

She sent the message and hoped she wouldn’t make even more of a complete fool of herself. It wasn’t too long before Martin sent her a screenshot of what appeared to be his messages with Harry:

Ask her!! 628-555-0890

Hey! Thanks mate! Do you think it okay, though? Not creepy, or anything?

jfc these things used to be so simple; she won’t bite

Y/N laughed out at the screenshot before she got a notification from an unknown number:

Hello! How are you? Martin gave me your number, I hope that’s okay.

And then immediately seconds after:

Sorry, this is Harry.

Y/N could not help but gush at the message and had a sudden realization that Harry Styles had just messaged her—HARRY STYLES HAD JUST MESSAGED HER. It wasn’t long before she started getting into her own head. She thought she wasn’t interesting enough to respond with something smart or enticing and wished he really hadn’t messaged her, in the first place. She had no idea how to respond to that... He didn’t give her much to go off... She started panicking.

Hi ☺️ I’m doing well! How’ve you been? Of course, I told him to ☺️ I haven’t gotten around to planning the next gathering, yet, but I’ll definitely let you know when we start looking into it ☺️

Three smiley faces were too much, wasn’t it? She didn’t know... She decided to keep the one at the end in and blindly pressed the blue send button. God, she hoped that wasn’t too short or long. She really wished Martin hadn’t put her in such a situation... She found herself laughing at the memory of Kim Kardashian crying about Kourtney knowing she felt uncomfortable in certain situations and putting her in them, anyways. This guy knew Kendall Jenner intimately... God, Y/N really wished Martin hadn’t done this to her.

Okay—sorry, hope I'm not coming off as a creep. Just knew I would forget if I didn’t get your number from Martin. I’m actually really curious to see what it looks like.

Y/N sighed out, not knowing if she should respond. There was nothing more to say... right? They weren’t best friends so that she could send something else about her day to him. At least he had left it open, so she could potentially try to strike up a conversation... but she was so bad at these things. She would surely end up coming off as the creepy one.

Well, I’m glad you reminded him, then! We'll have good music and the food’s always amazing; definitely bring comfortable and/or stretchy pants 😂

She was annoyed at how fast she just sent the message. Wasn’t there a rule to these things to ensure you didn’t look desperate? There came a lull in the time that Harry took to respond to her. She loathed how many times she checked that her ringer was on and pressed her lock button to ensure she hadn’t missed any notifications. It wasn’t until later that afternoon when another notification from Harry came through her device.

Haha will do, looking forward to it

She scrunched her nose at the message. She had been too weird; she was sure of it. This is why you shouldn’t meet your heroes—sure there’s a chance they’ll be absolute rubbish people but it’s worse when you end up being the rubbish person, isn’t it? She didn’t save his number and left the chain of messages at that. Maybe she would put an end to such gatherings so she never had to speak to him again.

+ + +

“Okay, so we have about 250 people on the list right now,” Jamie, one of Y/N’s assistants spoke between sips of her iced coffee, “are there any other people I should add?”

“Everything else was approved? The venue’s available that day?” Y/N asked as she picked at the manicure she had gotten earlier that week.

“Yep, Magno said he clears any events on days the boss throws one of her big shin digs,” Jamie laughed at the memory of Y/N’s uncle.

“And the caterers agreed to the price?” Y/N choked out as she looked up from her hands.

“Yes... What’s up with you? You’re never this careful with this stuff,” Jamie noted with a furrow of her brows, “what’s going on?”

“No, I’m just making sure that there’ll be an actual party in a few days,” Y/N cleared her throat as she straightened in her chair.

“Who’re you waiting last minute to invite?” Jamie questioned, her tone accusing. There had, on occasion, been one or two people that had gotten absolutely smashed at one of Y/N’s parties and her method to ensure they didn’t ruin an upcoming event with drunken slurs or fights with other guests was inviting them day of said event.

“Nobody,” Y/N laughed as she looked back to her twiddling fingers.

“Wait a second,” Jaime narrowed her eyes as her fingers went to frantically type at the keys of her computer, “I just control effed this mother for Harry and nothing came up... You’re procrastinating inviting the love of your life to this thing? What the hell?”

“Don’t call him that,” Y/N laughed. She really wished she hadn’t made such a promise on national television. It was all that had flooded her social media feed for the first few days after the incident, and every now and then she would be questioned about when the next party was and if she had invited Harry and James.

“This thing is in three days; even if you invited him now, it’ll be a miracle he doesn’t have anything going on... Is he even in La La Land?” Jamie shook her head at Y/N.

“I don’t know,” Y/N sighed as she stretched her legs out, in front of her seated body, “I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him.”

“Look, you already embarrassed yourself back on the show and he still wants the invitation? Doesn’t he deserve more than three days notice?” Jamie pressed.

“Fine; you invite him,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“You’re going to wish you didn’t allow me access to your iCloud sign on,” Jamie smirked before her fingers went to type at her keys once more.

“Jaime... What... What does that mean, what are you doing?” Y/N fearfully questioned as she rose from her seat and ran over to where her assistant sat typing on her computer.

“God, bring stretchy pants? Not okay, Y/N,” Jaime acknowledged as Y/N peered over her shoulder to see her assistant had already logged into Y/N’s iMessage account and had pulled up her conversation with Harry, “I’m going to put ‘Hey, Harry; hope you've been well! Just wanted to let you know the next get together is going to be on Friday. Hope you can make it. Blushing, smiley face emoji...’ Sweet and simple. Yes?”

“I mean,” Y/N droned before earning a glare from Jaime, “okay, fine.”

About fifteen minutes later, Jaime squealed with delight at the notification that had popped up in the right corner of her computer.

Nice! I’ll be in town this weekend! What’s the physical address?

“Ooh! This is so cute,” Jamie gushed as she went to respond to his message.

“I’m going to embarrass myself,” Y/N kept repeating.

“You already have and he’s still coming back for more. I don’t want to hear it,” Jaime rolled her eyes as she sat back and watched the little gray bubble pop up, insinuating Harry’s typing.

Thank you! I’ll be seeing you! Take care x

“He signed off with an x, Y/N,” Jamie squealed as her hands went to squeeze Y/N’s sides.

“I know,” Y/N whined.

“What are you going to wear?” Jaime turned to look at an already very distraught Y/N.

+ + +

Harry was nervous, which had become something of a rarity, anymore. He had consulted one of his friends—one that had been well known in the fashion industry—about what he would wear for the evening. He wanted to look nice... but not like he tried to look a certain way. He was embarrassed for such a thought process and thought it ridiculous that he cared so much about the clothing he had on his body for the night. He knew there were more important things to worry about in the world but, in his defense, he had never felt this way before.

It all had to do with this one girl. About a year previously, he had begun to see her all over his Instagram feed. A few of his friends had recently befriended her and she seemed to suddenly appear in a variety of their posts. At first, he found it a little odd that there was someone so involved with his friends that he didn’t know or hadn’t heard of. He hadn’t thought much about it the first few weeks she had popped up in said photos. He had seen her hair or profile floating in the background of some of his bandmates’ posts, her laugh recorded as she filmed some of his companions videos, and this majestic and oddly captivating smile popping up in a dozen other photos. That was what had first drawn him in, if he was being completely honest. He thought her lips were a peculiar shape; but in a good way. They were a nice contrast to the sculpted ones that seemed to crowd his social media feeds. Harry was not one to judge others for their decision to change their features. He figured if something bothered somebody so much, they were entitled to change what they needed to feel better about themselves. Hers, in particular, though... Well, nobody could achieve the naturally round shape by means of filler, he thought.

He was absolutely enticed by a video in particular where Alexa, one of his close friends, had filmed while approaching her as she stood, arranging flowers in a vase. It seemed to be in somebody’s grand foyer, but Harry wasn’t as interested in all the grandeur that had surrounded her. He was ashamed to say he had studied the video for a lot longer than he would have liked to. Her hair looked like it had been held together by one of those silk scarves he had seen tied on various overpriced bags. She bore an oversized tee shirt as she worked in her space of plant clippings and, what seemed to be, forgotten stems. She spoke of line, or dimension, or something but all he could focus on was the way her lips curved when her joke about sunflowers being flowers for sons failed.

“That was so bad, oh my God,” came her laugh as she shook her head and went back to whatever she had originally intended to explain. He noticed she liked to use her hands while she articulated her thought process.

Another one of the many videos in existence had played a recording of her singing "I Just Called To Say I Love You” to one of their friends as a voicemail. Harry couldn’t believe the emotion it stirred inside of him. It was the most endearing little voice that hardly broke, and the little giggle at the end pulled at his heartstrings and he wasn’t sure why. There was this thought nagging at the back of his mind that he could get really invested in this girl if he allowed himself.

One day, he had to go against his better judgement and had tapped on her handle in one of the many tagged photos he had seen. Her profile popped up so easily and he knew he was doomed. One shot was of her sprawled across a bed, her bare legs kicked up against the headboard, feet covered in red fuzzy slippers as she seemingly read John Boyne’s The Heart's Invisible Furies. He had done little research on the book before he got a confirmation e-mail on his purchase.

Another image depicted her sitting cross legged on the floor, surrounded by a sea of various sized and shaped seashells. He couldn't help but smile at at the image of her in jeans, topless while holding up two shells over either side of her chest. She had captioned it “What the shell?”. It wasn’t funny; but he found himself eventually laughing at the caption.

It was a real slippery slope that he had fallen down. He knew better than to poke around in somebody’s social media accounts, yet there he was—laughing and gushing at the dozens of photos she had posted. There weren’t many likes on the photos and her follower count was nothing to boast about. He wondered what she did for work... There was nothing written in the little biography section and he wouldn’t allow himself to look her up on any other forms of media. He wondered how she had met so many of the people he knew.

“She was working with one of those self-help magazine column things,” Alexa had informed him over brunch one sunny afternoon.

“S'very LA,” Harry chuckled to himself, and he wasn’t sure why, but he felt badly after the words came out of his mouth.

“No, she’s not like that. She refuses to move out here; lives in San Francisco—says it gives her less anxiety,” Alexa explained as she took a bite of her veggie burger, “anyways, I guess she was working on writing or producing some documentary series with some director—Larraín, I think—and I guess he liked her so much he offered her a big gig in one of his films a couple years back.”

“Ah,” came Harry’s understanding nod. He had never heard of the man, but was surprised to hear such a drastic change of careers.

“Guess she’s a bit of a fan,” Alexa shrugged as she looked around the restaurant they had been seated at, “Florence keeps trying to get you two in the same room. You saw that video Maggie posted of Florence’s shin dig a few months ago?”

“Yeah! Got all spooked or summat,” Harry furrowed his brows as he shoveled some of the rice he had ordered earlier into his mouth.

“Well, I guess,” Alexa stopped as her eyes widened and her lips curved into a grin, “someone’s been cyber stalking.”

“Ah, s’nothing,” Harry’s cheeks burned as he reached for his water.

“Anyways, no, I guess she was mortified because you walked in,” Alexa burst into laughter.

“Me?” Harry gasped, pointing at himself in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Alexa continued to chortle before coughing into her fist, “m’telling you; she’s quite a fan.”

“Huh,” came Harry’s response as he took a drink from his water, “s’interesting.”

It hadn’t been long before he had joined in on everybody’s attempts to get into the same room as the female. Eventually, he had found out through James Corden that a producer on his show was great friends with Y/N, and the rest had been history.

He felt ridiculous as he stood in front of his mirror staring at the clothing that had been sent to him earlier that day. He groaned as he forcefully shedded the blazer from his shoulders and went in search for something more casual.

+ + +

It had already been a pretty long morning for Y/N. She had been waken at six in the morning by Jamie claiming one of the vendors fell through and was demanding a larger sum of money if Y/N really wanted them to serve food at her gathering. A groggy eyed Y/N had wandered into her study to find the contract she had drawn up with the business and had gotten them on the phone within thirty minutes bringing up the terms of contingencies the two had agreed upon. It had taken a bit of haggling on both ends, but Y/N finally got the company to agree to their original terms. It was ten by the time Y/N had just started to fall asleep when Benny, one of the decorators, had messaged Y/N about a missing table. From then on, it seemed one miniature disaster occurred one after the other. Never in the time Y/N had held such events had so many things gone wrong last minute. Thankfully, she was able to resolve most of the pop up problems, but by the time Y/N was supposed to be getting ready for the night, she felt as though she could drop at any given moment with how exhausted she felt. She had jumped back into bed and set an alarm for a thirty minute snooze, but even that had been interrupted by Jamie calling her to open her front door. The designer of the outfit Y/N agreed to wear for the night had mixed up her measurements and the fit was all out of proportions. So, Y/N and Jamie had frantically started going through her closet to see what possible contenders there were for the night. Naturally, Jamie had wanted Y/N to wear her most revealing dress, but Y/N wouldn’t allow it. She insisted that such an outfit wouldn't allow her to dance as comfortably as something a little more sensible. The two compromised as Y/N finally settled for a calf length, flowy dress that was low cut and had cut outs around her midsection.

Thankfully, Y/N had made it to the venue on time to help set up, iced soy latte in hand—Jamie had insisted on the way over when she saw Y/N nodding off in the passenger seat. Magno had chewed Y/N out for having come in so early, again. He always told her they had things handled so she could literally “roll up with everybody else.” Y/N usually always replied how she liked to see everything set up before people arrived, anyways, so it was usually, really no bother. This particular day, though, she really wished she had taken her uncle up on such an offer.

The sun had started to set when people started flooding in. Y/N didn’t know how to act. Usually, she would already be pulling people into rooms and forcing them to dance with her, whether they liked it or not. She would circle around greeting friends and their plus ones, telling them what her favorite foods to order were and what drinks to try at the bar. With Harry coming, though, Y/N had to fight the urge to plant herself at the entrance just to catch a glimpse of him. Honestly speaking, despite her best efforts to speak with everyone who participated in her festivities, there were nights when a friend would message her the next day saying that they were sorry they weren't able to talk to her and to plan something in the future. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Harry, but the more people that started showing up, the more she had begun to be pulled every which way by her guests. Jamie had assured her that she would be on the look out for the male, but Y/N had thought that a little unfair and told Jamie not to worry about it and to enjoy herself, instead.

“Y/N! Odie wants you to head back to the kitchen for something special,” Jamie had come up behind Y/N while she stood chatting with some companions.

“Hm? Oh, okay,” Y/N seemed flustered as Jamie grabbed a hold of her hand and pulled her away from her friends, “what? Did he walk in?”

“Hm? Oh,” Jamie nervously chuckled to herself as the two continued walking towards the back of the venue, “eh... no... Odie really does have something for you, but I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

“He’s not coming,” Y/N sighed before shaking her head, “it’s really better that he doesn’t. I’d make a fool of myself.”

“Oh my God, stop being so dramatic,” Jamie began before the two were interrupted by one of Y/N’s acquaintances.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” came Daphne’s frantic chants as Y/N and Jamie turned to face the young woman, “you have to come with me right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Y/N furrowed her brow, thinking something else had gone wrong.

“Mikka just spotted him at the back entrance; come on,” Daphne grabbed a hold of Y/N’s forearm before pulling her towards the direction she had come from.

“Wait,” Jamie pulled Y/N the other way.

“Jamie!” Y/N yelped from being caught in the middle of such a tug of war.

“Sorry,” Jamie laughed before gaining her composure, “I feel like going over there now makes her look desperate.”

“What? No way!” Daphne rolled her eyes.

“It makes it seem like she had people watching for him,” Jamie reasoned.

“I mean, I kinda did,” Y/N shrugged.

“It does not! It’s polite to greet your guests,” Daphne argued.

“Yeah, but not the moment they step foot into the party! Shouldn’t he seek her out?” Jamie tried to dispute.

“He already has by coming in the first place,” Daphne narrowed her eyes and shook her head. The two friends had started going back and forth on what would be considered appropriate while Y/N’s head started to throb with all the decision making she had already had to do throughout the day, and the blasting music in the background. It was when Y/N looked up from rubbing her sinuses when she felt her heart skip a beat. Just a few feet away was Harry, stood speaking with some woman she didn’t recognize. In perfect Harry fashion, he looked jaw droopingly gorgeous. Y/N was sure if any other man on the planet had attempted to sport his outfit, they would have looked ridiculous. However, as always, Harry could pull anything off. She suddenly remembered the subject matter her friends were currently debating and hoped to God the music was too loud for him to overhear them.

“You guys,” Y/N interjected before the two females neared Y/N to better hear the words she spoke, “don’t look; he’s right there.”

“Oh, my God,” Daphne gasped as she immediately looked over to where Y/N had nodded.

“She literally said not to look,” Jamie scolded before rolling her eyes.

“I can’t help it; he’s the literal love of my life,” Daphne seemed to sob, “Y/N, you'd better go over there before he gets mobbed... by me.”

“Daphne’s right, go say hi,” Jamie nodded.

“But,” Y/N tried to buy some time before her friends pushed her away from them, closer to where Harry stood. Y/N tried to recover her balance on her heels from the push as she looked over her shoulder to see them giving her encouraging smiles and a thumbs up. God, she hoped he didn’t see that. As she approached the couple ahead, she couldn’t help but feel the lightest tinge of jealousy creeping over her at the woman that stood so closely to him. Then she started to feel as though she would be interrupting an intimate chat if she were to just walk up to the pair to say hello. She decided against greeting him as she tried to find the nearest person to glob onto before actually catching his eye. The way he smiled at her made her face burn and she knew she would have to think of something intelligent or interesting to say—quick. She watched as he said something to the woman he was with before she nodded and left him. This was sure to mean that she could approach him... right?

“Hi!” Was all Y/N could muster as she smiled at Harry. She wasn’t sure if she should go for the hug or handshake, and so there was this awkward carrying on where Harry had gone in for the embrace while Y/N stuck out her arm. Then came the same predicament only with the two swapping actions. Harry finally grabbed Y/N’s hand in his own hands to greet her.

“Sorry; didn’t want to interrupt over there,” Harry nodded over to where Daphne and Jamie were not even attempting to hide the fact that they were trying to eavesdrop on the two.

“Oh, no! That’s fine; they were just telling me whether or not I should head over here and whether it would make me look desperate,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Desperate?” Harry cocked his head, his lips grinning.

“They like to overanalyze everything; they think just because you’re here tonight, you want to get in my pants or something,” Y/N laughed before realizing what she had just said and really wishing she hadn’t come in so early. She must have been delirious; she could get real open and chatty when she was exhausted. All Harry could do was laugh.

“Sorry, must be a little delirious or something. I haven’t even had a lick to drink tonight,” Y/N nervously laughed.

“S’fine! Sorry, I was late! I forgot what traffic can be like over here on the weekend,” Harry rolled his eyes, “but thank you for inviting me!”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Y/N anxiously laughed, “James didn’t want to come?”

“No, s’too much of a scrooge,” Harry laughed, “you look great!”

“Please! Look at you,” Y/N beamed as she gave him a once over.

“Eh,” Harry shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes, “they’re not stretchy pants, was afraid I’d overdressed.”

“Oh, my god! I can’t believe I said that. No, Latinos live for this kind of stuff; it’s like their Paris Fashion Week, so you might be a little underdressed, if anything,” Y/N joked as her wrist went to nudge at Harry’s arm.

“Is that what it is?” Harry laughed as he looked around at all the people that had started looking their way.

“Yeah,” Y/N noticed the eyes that had gravitated their way, “have you gotten anything to eat or drink, yet?”

“No! Didn’t know what to get; there’s so much,” Harry shook his head as his brows raised on his forehead.

“S’not much of a time without a drink! C’mon, let’s get you something yummy,” Y/N smiled as she took hold of Harry’s hand before looking behind her to see her friends still staring at them. She mouthed that the two were headed to the kitchen. The two nodded and shoed them away. It was when Harry had caught up to Y/N’s pace that she had realized she was still holding onto Harry’s hand.

“S’really big!” Harry shouted over the music as Y/N let go of his hand, making Harry look down at the loss of contact. He had debated reaching out for it once more, but thought it ridiculous.

“A lot of people couldn’t make it,” Y/N laughed as they neared the kitchen.

“What?” Harry gaped as he followed. There were fewer people the further they had gotten from where they had met and he felt like Y/N could hear him without having to yell.

“I mean,” Y/N shrugged as her name was suddenly called out and she looked around to wave back at whoever had called her name, “I kinda copied the idea from an event we had back home, and they had twice as many rooms.”

“Twice?” Harry marveled at the girl walking beside him.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, smiling at the memory, “it was nice, though! All the vendors in town would pitch in and serve, and even though there were twice as many people, everybody knew each other. Newcomers always came back the next year, and it was just a nice little event everybody looked forward to every year, you know?”

“I’d have liked to see that,” Harry shook his head as the two finally entered the kitchen. Y/N was about to respond but was interrupted.

“Y/N!” Came a shout from somewhere in the back, making Y/N pick up her pace towards the man that had caught sight of her.

“Odie!” Y/N gasped as she spread her arms open to the man before he took her in his arms and leaned back to pick her up from the ground.

“You’ve come to say hello to your amiguinho?” Odie widened his eyes at Y/N.

“Claro!” Y/N’s smile radiated her familiarity with the man before going to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Ah, meu bem, have you brought me someone to cook for?” Odie asked, the sound of Y/N’s heels landing back on firm ground as he looked around her body at Harry.

“Oh, Odie, this is my friend Harry,” Y/N looked back and signaled for Harry to come closer, “Harry this is Odie.”

“Nice to meet you, Sir Styles,” Odie’s eyes squinted as he smiled at the young man as he stuck out his hand for Harry to take.

“Nice to meet you, Odie,” Harry reciprocated his smile.

“O que ele disse?” Odie furrowed his brows at Y/N.

“Ah, you’ll have to speak up, Harry. Ele é surdo,” Y/N spoke up to Odie, laughing when he elbowed her side, “he can’t hear very well out of his left ear on account of always yelling at people.”

“Feh,” Odie swiped a palm through the air, “makes a good chef.”

“Excuses,” Y/N narrowed her eyes and shook her head, “Jamie said you had something for me.”

“Sim! Vem, vem, vem,” Odie ushered the two over to another section of his kitchen, cursing a few people that had not moved out of his way. Y/N had apologized to those he cursed as she trailed behind Odie. She spoke so softly, if he hadn't been trying, Harry wouldn’t have known she was apologizing.

“I know you couldn’t have them last time, but I finally worked out how to make it sem laticínios,” Odie paused as he turned to the couple behind him, “no dairy.”

“Pasteis de nata?” Y/N gasped as her eyes fell to where a pan of pastries on the counter.

“Sim! Yes,” Odie’s eyes shrank as he gave her his biggest smile, “tente! Try! Please.”

“Odie, obrigado! It smelled absolutely celestial last time, my mouth was watering. I almost threw away cinco anos de veganismo to taste it,” Y/N explained as she reached to grab two of the pastries from the pan before handing the other to Harry.

“What is it? Paste de,” Harry paused as he looked between Y/N and Odie for the answer.

“Pasteis de nata,” Odie answered, as Y/N had already popped the pastry into her mouth, laughing because she couldn’t speak with her mouth so full.

“Pasteis de nata,” Harry repeated before Odie nodded with glee.

“Try!” Odie insisted before Harry went to taste the food.

“Oh, Odie,” Y/N moaned, her eyes rolling, “you’ve outdone yourself! Está perfeito! Que gostoso! E a receita?”

“É um segredo,” Odie shook his head, “you ever want; avise-se me! Call me!”

“S’delicious,” Harry gaped as he went in for another bite.

“I know,” Odie grinned, crossing his arms over her chest, “your new boyfriend?”

“Hm? Oh, no,” Y/N quickly interjected, shaking her head, “actually, can we take one for his date?”

At this point, somebody had called for Odie somewhere within the kitchen and he had cursed under his breath before turning back to Y/N.

“Meu bem, sempre um prazer. Pleasure, pleasure,” Odie gave Y/N another smile as he went to sandwich her hand in his own, “you’ll come and visit, soon?”

“Of course,” Y/N nodded as she laid her free hand on top of his, “muito obrigado por ter vindo.”

“Ah, your Portuguese está melhorando,” Odie shook his head at Y/N, “much better, meu bem. Harry! Foi um prazer conhece-lo; lovely to meet you. Conte-me, what’s your favorite food?”

“Eh,” Harry chuckled, trying to think of something, “eh, I’ll eat pretty much anything, so long as it’s not meat.”

“Okay,” Odie nodded, pensively before being yelled at once more for assistance, “Aff! Okay, I’ll make something and send out! Até logo!”

“Até logo! Thank you,” Y/N smiled as he sent a wave their way before rushing away. Y/N grabbed another small pastry and halved it to share with Harry.

“Date?” Harry scrunched his nose as he turned to look at Y/N, who had already taken a bite from her half.

“Yeah,” Y/N innocently nodded, her hand going to cover her mouth full, looking up to see Harry’s confused features, “the woman... you were speaking to? Before?”

“Oh,” Harry finally spoke after a few moments of trying to remember who he had been speaking to beforehand, “oh, no, that was just someone that just came up to me... you don’t know who it was?”

“No,” Y/N laughed at his expression, clutching her stomach as she did so, “sometimes people bring their friends that I’m not that acquainted with.”

“Ah,” Harry frowned as he put his hand on his hip, “s’that not scare you?”

“Not really,” Y/N shook her head, “it hasn’t been a problem, so far.”

“Well, wish I would’ve known that,” Harry commented with a little shrug of his shoulders.

“Why? Nobody ever asks, they just bring them,” Y/N took another bite from the dish Odie had made for her.

“Hate showing up to places alone,” Harry explained as he looked down at the half of the pastry Y/N had given him, “didn’t want anyone to think they had to entertain me.”

“Ugh, I know,” Y/N squinted and smiled as she bumped his hand with the back of her palm, “sorry, hope you don’t mind my company?”

“No, of course not,” Harry quickly shook his head before a silence came over the two.

“What? You don’t like it?” Y/N nodded toward the pastry he had been holding while blankly looking at her.

“No, s’great,” Harry smiled as he went to take a bite, “think it may be one of the best sweets I’ve ever had... What was it? That he was speaking?”

“Português,” Harry finding it endearing how easily the accent rolled off her tongue, “it’s a beautiful language, no?”

“Yeah... And you speak it?” Harry questioned as he watched her finish her half of the pastry. “No... at least not fluently. Well, it’s pretty close to Spanish, but m’learning little by little,” Y/N shrugged as she rubbed her hands together to rid them of crumbs, “hate him having to speak another language on my account, he tries so hard. Figured I could put some effort in, as well.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, knowingly, “s’cool.”

“You want some actual food, now? I’m already getting a tummy ache with all the junk food I’ve consumed today,” Y/N smiled up at him as he took another bite of the dessert. He laughed as he raised a fist to cover his mouth.

“Sure,” came his muffled response before Y/N nodded for him to follow her. They had made their way to another room where there were a few people jotting down orders and giving people estimates of how long it would take for them to get their food.

“What do you recommend?” Harry asked as the two looked at the various options on various panels of food.

“Everything,” Y/N sighed as her eyes seemed to look for something in particular, “do you like hispanic food?”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged before Y/N turned to look at him.

“How much spice can you handle?” Y/N questioned, raising her brows at the male.

“Oh,” Harry laughed, “eh... a good amount, I guess?”

“Okay,” Y/N turned back to the menu, “the jackfruit tacos are al pastor and can be quite spicy, so is the pozole... eh, they do a great tamale with mole sauce on top. The pasteles are pretty good... Mmm, there’s a few curry dishes and Odie’s been trying his hand at a few Asian inspired dishes.”

“‘ve got just about everything, don’t you?” Harry wondered, shaking his head. “I don’t know, now. Everything sounds good.”

“How hungry are you?” Y/N asked, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.

+ + +

“This is fucking delicious,” Harry groaned out. He had just tasted the tamale Y/N had ordered earlier. It was not the first time he had uttered those words throughout the night. Y/N had ordered them “a little bit of everything” and he was surprised at how much of it the two were able to put away. Within twenty minutes, a platter had been served to them with small servings of various foods. Y/N had told him she had wanted to show him something and had taken all she could in her arms before he had taken the rest in his own. She had led him up a dark flight of stairs before kicking open a door that revealed the venue’s rooftop. The two had taken a seat on the edge of a skylight, the twinkling lights of San Francisco providing enough light for them to see what they were eating—the Golden Gate Bridge was somewhere off in the distance of the fog.

“Feel like you’ve said that about all of it,” Y/N laughed as she reached for the drink she had set in front of her criss crossed legs earlier. Harry had tried what she had called Ponche—a drink infused with cinnamon, apple, and various other fruits. It had proven to be too sweet for him, so Y/N had happily agreed to finish it.

“It just keeps getting better, though,” Harry attempted to explain, “and just when I think that I’ve tried the best, I’ll go back for something else and that’s great, too... How’d you get so many vendors, anyway? I saw one actually came in from LA.”

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled before Harry squints at her.

“You must be something to have people come out so far,” Harry commented with a shake of his head, “even restaurants have a limit to how much money gets shoved at them before they refuse such a long distance to travel.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Y/N shook her head and shrugged as he watched her arm poke from his blazer to grab more food. He had noticed the goosebumps poke through her skin when they first started setting up and had debated offering her his jacket. He liked Y/N. He thought she was sweet and nice to talk to but he didn’t want to be too, as he found Y/N liked to say, cheesy. He had offered, anyways, and the item had been graciously refused by Y/N.

“Then you’ll be cold, and what’s the good in that,” Y/N scrunched her nose, “I’m used to it, anyways.”

Harry would not have it and had made a great show of taking his blazer off before wrapping her in the remnant warmth of his own body. She had laughed (he realized he really liked the sound) and thanked him. It was then that Jamie had interrupted the two, apologetically delivering a sushi roll Odie had sent up before hurrying away—Y/N had rolled her eyes as she called out to her that she was welcome to stay. Jamie had refused and wished them a great rest of their night. As for the sushi roll, Harry had fallen in love. It had tempura carrots and sweet potato with cucumber and Harry was over the moon with the little sweet sauce that had been drizzled over it.

“I hope I don’t sound presumptuous, but you were a fan?” Harry asked as he reached for the Jamaica Y/N had urged him to try. It was a red hibiscus juice that was too bitter for his tongue at the first sip, but it had started to grow on him.

“Oh my gosh, yes,” Y/N furrowed her brows, “I’m surprised I didn’t pass out on the show.”

“Really?” Harry’s brows raised as he sat the cup back down in front of him.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Y/N asked, cocking her head at him. She had grown suspicious that people had told him of her attempts to avoid him. She was sure Florence had outed her. “Dunno why, but I can’t peg you as the type,” Harry shook his head.

“Well, what's the type?” Y/N inquired as she popped another bit of tamale into her mouth. He had long been in awe of how she had substituted her fork for chop sticks.

“You know what I mean,” Harry sighed as he leaned back on his hands, his legs outstretched, “you were so calm on the show. Could’ve fooled me... Who was your favorite?”

“Oh my God, I’m not telling you that,” Y/N refused as she tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

“Must have been me then,” Harry narrowed his eyes at Y/N and nodded as he pursed his lips at her.

“Wow,” Y/N gaped as she turned to look at his snickering features, “a little full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I mean, is there any other reason why you wouldn’t answer the question, Y/N?” Harry shrugged as he turned to look at Y/N. He liked how he looked with his blazer over her shoulders. It almost looked as if it was intentionally a part of her outfit.

“What if it’s one of the other boys and I just don’t want to risk you running off to tell them?” Y/N shook her head as she watched him pop a plantain into his mouth.

“Then Florence must have been lying when she told me you used to have posters of me up on your walls,” Harry shrugged, nonchalantly.

“Oh my God,” Y/N cried out, her hands going to cover her face before they dropped to reveal her annoyed features, “first of all, it was one and I only put it up as a joke.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Harry laughed as the two reached for the last samosa. Harry tsked and Y/N squinted over at him.

“Don’t think just because you were a little fan, I’m just going to let you have it,” Harry shook his head.

“I will physically fight you,” Y/N shook her head.

“Jesus, give a boy a chance, won’t you?” Harry widened his eyes as he went to cough into his elbow.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Y/N offered with a shake of her head.

“Okay,” Harry shrugged as he turned his body to face her, which she reciprocated. The two chanted the necessary words before Y/N’s hand landed as rock and Harry’s as paper.

“Ah,” Harry cheered as his larger palm went to cover Y/N’s fist, “best two out of three?” “Okay,” Y/N responded, closing her eyes before the two commenced with their antics. Y/N had won the second round, and for the third, Harry had used “fire,” which had started a bit of an argument.

“No, no. It’s called ‘rock, paper, scissors,’ Harry,” Y/N shook her head as she watched him rub his hands on his thighs.

“It’s fire! It beats everything,” Harry chuckled as he went to grab the samosa.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N playfully argued, “if that’s the case then I want another round where we’re using made up rules, that way I can use the water balloon thing.”

“Okay, Phoebe Buffay,” Harry muttered before giving the samosa to Y/N.

“Here,” Y/N chortled as she tore the turnover in half and handed one of the two to Harry, to which they tapped the two together in cheers.

“What’ve you been listening to lately? I feel like I’ve been listening to the same three songs for the past few months, and it’s getting pretty bleak,” Y/N stated as she looked on toward the city lights.

“Ooh, well I’ve kind of rediscovered my love for the lyricism of some of Joni Mitchell’s-” Harry began before Y/N tensed.

“Joni Mitchell?” Y/N’s brows had furrowed.

“Yeah,” Harry replied as he turned his head to look at her. There was an awkward pause where Y/N seemed to be mulling something over.

“Didn’t she... didn’t she do blackface on one of her album covers?” Y/N asked after swallowing her food, brushing some crumbs from her lap.

“Eh,” Harry didn’t know how to answer the question, “she said that she really identified with-”

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “I... I don’t know... I just feel like that’s not a good enough reason. She hasn’t experienced what they’ve experienced. I think... I think that’s kind of unfair of her to say.”

“Uh,” Harry trailed as he tried to think of what to respond before shaking his head, “no, that... that makes sense.”

There was a moment of silence where Harry wondered if he had just messed everything up.

“I’m sorry, I,” Y/N began before Harry went to fervently shake his head.

“No,” Harry voiced, “you’re completely right. I just... I guess I never thought about it like that, but thank you for bringing it to my attention. I never want to support someone... someone that isn’t... well, considerate, I suppose.”

“No,” Y/N also shook her head, “I haven’t read much more about it. Maybe she apologized... or something. Sometimes I overreact-”

“You didn’t,” Harry assured, his hand going to cover Y/N’s and Y/N couldn’t help but sigh a breath of relief. Her last boyfriend had always gotten so angry when she spoke about such things. It was a breath of fresh air to be heard by someone she admired so much.

“I liked putting a donation box at the front,” Harry quickly changed the subject, “s’a good idea.”

“Right?” Y/N raised her brows and nodded. “Wish I could take credit for it; but Jamie was the one that had suggested it.”

“Jamie seems real nice,” Harry commented as he went in for another bite of samosa.

“Yeah, she’s sweet,” Y/N smiled. The two sat in a comfortable silence where they listened as the song playing beneath them had changed.

“See,” Harry nudged her arm, “what’s this? I can never differentiate between different genres... is that not tasteful to say?”

“No, not at all,” Y/N shook her head, “I had trouble with it when I was younger. This sounds like it’s cumbia.”

“And how’s it danced? How is it different than, like, salsa?” Harry asked, going for the Jamaica, again.

“Mm,” Y/N hummed as she finished chewing and swallowing, “salsa tends to be more front and back, while cumbia is more to the sides, but there’s a few different ways to dance it.”

“Will you teach me?” Harry asked as he set down the cup of red liquid to his side.

“Yeah, sure!” Y/N smiled as she set down what was left of her samosa and slipping Harry’s blazer from her shoulders. “D’ya mind terribly if I lay it on the glass, here? S’okay if you do! Can put it back on. Don’t wanna get it dirty.”

“No, it’s fine!” Harry nodded before the two pushed up from their seat.

“Okay so you can do a simple two steps to either side like this,” Y/N began.

“Okay, but y’can’t poke fun at me, because I know I’ll look ridiculous,” Harry seemed to pout, his hands at his hips.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Y/N almost seemed to scorn before grabbing his hands and urging him to follow her steps, “there you go!”

“Yeah?” Harry asked as he stepped back to look at her feet. “You said there were a few ways; which do you prefer?”

“That I prefer? Mm, you almost want to think like your skipping,” Y/N explained as she crossed one foot over the other, “and then you kick this one out.”

“So you cross this one,” Harry followed as he looked at his own feet before looking to Y/N for further instruction.

“Yeah, and then kick that one out,” Y/N pointed to one of his legs before he followed her direction, “yep, just like that. Then you do the same on the other side. Mm-hm.”

“Just like that?” Harry asked as he carried out a slightly faster pace.

“Yeah! You’ve got it,” Y/N beamed before her hands went to bump his arms up, “and you’ve gotta move those arms. It’s like fifty percent of looking like you know what you’re doing.”

Harry laughed before inquiring on turns, which Y/N roughly helped him get an idea of how to lead a turn. It took a while but Harry was a fast learner. Before too long he was comfortably leading her in a turn, but was confused when Y/N started laughing.

“What? What’d I do?” Harry asked as he searched her features for an answer.

“No, nothing,” Y/N calmed from her previous fit of laughter, “this song’s just funny. He’s talking about marrying a fish, or mermaid, I guess.”

“A mermaid?” Harry cracked a smile at the explanation.

“Yeah, and they have a baby with the face of an angel but the tail of a fish,” Y/N snickers, “but soldiers came one day and accused him of eating her for breakfast. Sorry, it’s not even funny, I don’t know why I’m laughing so much.”

“Of eating her?” Harry gaped before laughing along with Y/N, as his hold on her slips. “What have you got me dancing to, Y/N?”

“Some sick, true crime episode, apparently,” Y/N laughs before Harry grabbed Y/N’s hand.

“I can do a bit of salsa,” Harry smiled with excitement, “and by a bit, I mean a teeny tiny bit.”

“Okay, let’s see it,” Y/N responded as Harry had tried to get her into a ballroom hold, “oh, damn.”

“What?” Harry laughed down at Y/N.

“This is, like, a hold,” Y/N widened her eyes, a soft smile forming amidst her features.

“What’d you mean?” Harry inquired, confused by her phrasing.

“No, it’s just, I’ve never been in, like, a ballroom hold for salsa,” Y/N shrugged, “that’s professional ish.”

“Stop,” Harry rolled his eyes, “how’d you dance it, then?”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that, I’ve just never seen it danced like that, but you learn something new everyday,” Y/N reasoned before bouncing in place.

“Now, I’m embarrassed,” Harry huffed out a laugh, “all I know is you go back and forth.”

“No! M’sorry! Didn’t mean anything by it,” Y/N pleaded, pouting out her bottom lip.

“Oy vey,” Harry rolled his eyes, “you asked for it.”

“What do you mean? S’not bad! It’s a basic salsa step, that’s all you need,” Y/N shrugged as he led her in the little step he knew.

“Yeah, but you were doing way more in that video James showed,” Harry responded.

“Yeah, but that’s a bunch of fluff, mostly for show,” Y/N pursed her lips and shook her head before Harry attempted a turn. It was the wrong way, but Y/N wouldn't call him out on it.

“Sorry m’not a better dancer,” Harry feigned a whimper.

“Me, too,” Y/N joked as Harry gaped at her.

“Hey,” Harry droned out, his features showing a bit of offense as he furrowed his brows at her.

“M’only kidding,” Y/N giggled.

“I’m really trying,” Harry whimpered out, once again, feigning offense.

“Alright, then. I already said you’re a fine dancer, no?” Y/N teased, making Harry's eyes widen in surprise.

“Okay, little Miss Show Off, what else can you show me?” Harry asked.

“You’ve got a real mean streak, you know that?” Y/N replied.

“I’m a dream,” Harry said in a matter of factly tone. Neither had noticed that they had started simply swaying back and forth. The music had changed to something quite slow, and Y/N assumed they had wandered over another room. Y/N had gotten distracted by the view of the city before she turned to see Harry staring at her, a little smile taking over his features. Y/N had a moment where she believed she had to have been stuck in some sort of fever dream.

“What else did you wanna learn?” Y/N stammered, breaking eye contact with Harry.

“Eh, this is quite nice,” Harry shrugged as he pulled Y/N a little closer, “like dancing white people music with you.”

“Please,” Y/N cringed, shaking her head as she fought the urge to laugh, “I can’t believe I said that.”

“I thought it was funny,” Harry shrugged as he went to carefully dip Y/N

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would say I’m living an actual sappy, cheesy, fan fiction moment,” Y/N teased as Harry held her body up with a palm to her back.

“I cannot believe you’ve read that smut,” Harry shook his head, mockingly disapproval.

“Why would you jump to that conclusion? I could have been into that cottagecore stuff,” Y/N defended.

“What the fuck is cottagecore? What? Is it people that like to have sex in miniature cottages,” Harry furrowed his brows before yanking Y/N’s body back up to him, where the two were forced to bump noses. This had caused the two to burst into a fit of giggles, Harry reaching out to grab a hold of Y/N’s shoulders and ducking his head to make sure Y/N was alright.

+ + +

“S’this it?” Harry seemed to whisper as he had pulled up to Y/N’s home, her looking out the passenger window to see the familiar sight of her home.

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed as her fingers went to press on the little button that would release the buckle of her seatbelt. Harry and Y/N had stayed on the rooftop for a while longer than either had anticipated. So, when Jamie’s sleepy features had appeared, inquiring as to how the two were, Y/N had jumped up, slipping Harry’s blazer off her shoulders as she tried saying she was ready to leave.

“Sorry, guys, ’ve just had a long day,” Jamie hung her head, apologetically, before going to look at Harry, “you can always talk to her tomorrow.”

“Jamie,” Y/N nervously chuckled as she began folding Harry’s blazer to return to him.

“S’fine,” Harry waved away her attempts to return the piece of clothing, “you can give it to me the next time I see you.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N smiled as she hesitantly unfolded the blazer to slip back into, chuckling as she did so, “still warm.”

“Or you could drive her home,” Jamie droned, making Y/N’s eyes widen as her head whipped around to glare at Jamie, “you know... so you guys can keep talking. I didn’t want to interrupt your invigorating conversation about... what was it? Volcanoes on the moon?”

“They were a real thing,” Harry insisted, making Y/N smile and narrow her eyes at him, “but, yeah, if you want to head home now, I can drive her a little later.”

“See?” Jamie raised her eyebrows at Y/N before sticking her tongue out at her.

“Okay, well,” Y/N paused as she looked back at Harry, “only if you're sure.”

“Of course,” Harry seemed to sing along.

So, Jamie had made her way back to her vehicle as Harry and Y/N remained on the rooftop, continuing their random subjects of discussions. It hadn’t been long before Y/N had let out a yawn, and Harry insisted that he take her home before she fell asleep on the roof. It was a comfortable ride where Y/N would pipe up with random facts about her hometown as the passed different locations. Harry found it impossible when Y/N had told him the fortune cookie had been invented in San Francisco, but the way she spoke could definitely make him believe anything. He liked seeing her so animated about such random topics.

“Are you staying in town tonight? I really hope you’re not making the trip back tonight—even a flight’s like two hours, no?” Y/N cocked her head at Harry as he knuckled at his eye, one of his rings catching the moonlight and shining in Y/N’s eye.

“No,” Harry shook his head, “staying at a friend’s house and driving back tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Y/N nodded her head. She was a little disappointed. In all honesty, if he had said any different, she most likely would have tripped over her hormones to offer for him to spend the night at hers.

“S’fine, really. S’cold out,” Harry spoke lowly and held his palm out in protest as he saw her begin to peel off his blazer, once more.

“It’s not that far of a walk, really,” the apples of Y/N’s cheeks were prominent with the smile she gave him, “thanks... well, it was nice seeing you tonight.”

“It was nice seeing you, thank you for inviting me. I’ve not forgotten our dim sum date at that one place,” Harry pointed a finger at Y/N, accusingly, narrowing his eyes at her.

“No, of course not,” Y/N laughed off his casual use of the term “date,” as she felt her face heat up, “let me know when you’re in town, again.”

“No, you let me know when you’re available,” Harry shook his head as he looked out his windshield.

“Oh, so the ball’s in my court, now?” Y/N teased with a nod of her head.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “don’t get me wrong, s’a lovely town... but I don’t come here very often. Don’t know many people, here.”

“Oh, well, if L.A.’s easier,” Y/N began, before Harry chuckled.

“S’not what I meant. I know L.A. makes you nervous,” Harry shook his head at her, knowingly.

“I don’t know why,” Y/N scoffed, “I have to work there so often, but I just hate it. It doesn’t really feel like home, you know? Like I know a lot of people, but it’s not like they’re... I don’t know.”

“No, I get it,” Harry’s lips barely curved into a knowing smile, “d’ya mind terribly if I did something?”

“What?” Y/N questioned before Harry reached over to grab the side of her face in one of his warm palms before he carefully leaned in to connect their lips. She let out an odd noise, it was somewhere between a squeak of surprise and the beginning of sentence. Though it had taken her by surprise, she couldn’t help but smile at the taste of the sweet Jamaica he had slowly started warming up to. He had been the one to pull away, his eyes still closed when she opened hers.

“Sorry,” Harry dimpled, shaking his head, and at this proximity, Y/N could see the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes, “was that okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/N beamed as he finally opened his green eyes to stare into hers, both trying to read emotion on the other’s expression, “was lovely.”

“Yeah,” Harry slowly blinked at Y/N.

+ + +

The next day, ordinarily, would not have been anything special for Y/N. She had worked for a few hours and then had gotten to spend some time with some friends before returning to her home to tidy up. What had been different, though, and what had made all she encountered ask her why she seemed so happy that particular day had everything to do with Harry.

She had waken up to someone at her front door. It had scared her, at first. She hadn’t been expecting anybody so early. She had grabbed a sweater and slid her arms through the sleeves as she bounced down the stairs, brows furrowed as she ran her fingers through her hair, her fingers catching on the knots that had formed overnight. She had unlocked her phone to see who was standing at her doorstep, but had been confused as she saw an empty frame. She debated whether it was worth opening the door to check if whoever had rang the doorbell had rushed away. Something compelled her to do so, anyways. The door had swung open and something on her stoop’s little table captured her attention. There, on the little table, were white lilies wrapped in some brown paper, a little cup of hot liquid, and a small, familiar pastry bag. She knew who it was from judging by the little cup of hot chocolate she had told Harry about the night before. She looked up in time to see a car that resembled the one she rode in the night previously turn around her block.

Later that day, while she had been sorting through her Excel bill sheet on her laptop, her phone had rang out, making her look at the top corner of her screen for the message that had come through.

How was your morning?

Y/N smiled as she set her laptop aside and grabbed her phone. She hadn’t set Harry’s contact information up in her laptop, so it had read his phone number instead of the name she had assigned him in her phone’s contacts. A feeling stirred inside of her as she had the sudden urge to see his face. She wondered if it would be too much to FaceTime him... She had a habit of moving things along too quickly and falling too hard, too fast in the past. They had only just met, but he had been the one to bring her breakfast that morning, afterall...

😂 Was that you? Didn’t want to assume...

She bit her lip in anticipation as she watched the little gray bubble appear and disappear a few times. She was thankful she had disabled her read receipts in the past when the next message swooped in.

Good Gravy Miss Daisy. Hard one to woo, aren’t you, mate?

... don’t like that I used that phrase... please ignore :/

Y/N laughed out at the message that had come directly after the first. She could not believe he had actually took the time to type out the emoticon instead of just using the built in keyboard on his phone for emojis.

I wasn’t about to make an entire fool of myself! If I had thanked you earlier and it wasn’t you, I would have been mortified, you noodle!

A few moments went by, and nothing. Not even the little bubble she had seen the previous time. She had decided to lock her phone and get back to the task she had been doing, picking up her computer and setting it on her lap. She had gone through a few more bills before she looked down at her silent phone to her right. She frowned as her hands went to tie her hair up in a ponytail. She had just pulled the elastic off of her wrist to complete her ponytail when both her phone and her computer rang out. She instantly recognized the sound before she even saw the application pop up on her computer. She yelped out as she quickly tore out the elastic from her hair, and grimaced. She had probably damaged a few strands of hair for being so aggressive, but there was no way the ponytail had been as neat as she would want if she were to FaceTime with Harry. She knew she looked disheveled. She had been out and about with makeup all day. She knew the liner she had put on earlier that morning had probably smudged and transferred onto her lower lash line. She knew the lipstick she had rubbed onto her lips had probably left remnants in the cracks of her lips. She would have wanted a little more notice to be able to look presentable, at the very least. But if she had fixed all the things she had wanted, she would have missed her opportunity to accept Harry’s call. So, she figured letting her hair down would be good enough. It wasn’t long before she had clicked on the “Accept” button and had waited for the call to connect. The little sound that signaled a connection rang out and Harry’s features popped up on her little computer screen. Y/N wanted to squeal at how adorable the young man looked. He was in a gray hoodie, but his little curls poked out of the pulled hood. His lips seemed to glow compared to his puffy and soft, pale features—as if he might have just woken from a deep slumber.

“Sorry!” Harry seemed to be laughing, “is it too late? Figured you were responding to my messages...”

“No! No, I was just doing some... work,” Y/N shook her head as she made herself more comfortable on her couch.

“Oh, okay, good,” Harry nodded as he rubbed at his face, “and why’d you call me a noodle? What does that mean?”

“What? You’ve never been called a noodle?” Harry smiled at the laugh he had become so familiar with the previous day.

“Can’t say that I have,” Harry furrowed his brows.

“Ugh, that was like eighty percent of my childhood entertainment,” Y/N sighed as she tried not to look up at the little frame that showed what she looked like. She hoped she didn’t look too messy. “But thank you for breakfast! It was delicious.”

“What breakfast?” Harry furrowed his brows at her. Y/N widened her eyes at her screen. He had asked if she had gotten anything special earlier that morning. How could he not have left those flowers and food at her stoop? Who else would it have-

“M’joking,” Harry rolled his eyes, “sheesh.”

“I’m sorry! It’s been a long day... But thanks, just the same. And for the lilies! They were lovely. They definitely brightened up my office this morning. How’d you know they’re my absolute favorite?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at her computer screen that had displayed his features.

“Lucky guess,” Harry shrugged his shoulders through the lie. He had wanted to say that he knew, but knew that would most likely make Y/N feel compelled to ask how he had known if the subject hadn't been breached the previous day. He didn’t feel like explaining how he had basically been cyber stalking her a few months previous.

“Meanwhile, that bakery... you may’ve turned me onto something,” Harry widened his eyes.

“Did you actually go in?” Y/N questioned, her brows raising out of shock.

“Yeah,” Harry slowly responded, narrowing his eyes, “wait, why?”

“I mean,” Y/N laughed, “I just can’t imagine you... walking into a panaderia on Mission.”

“Why?” Harry seemed to pout.

“No reason,” Y/N shrugged, clearly finding the idea amusing, for some reason, “did you get what I was saying about the smell being other worldly, though?”

“Yeah,” Harry responded, defeated, “you’re right... it smells a lot warmer... or maybe sweeter? It just might be better than any other bakery I’ve stepped into.”

“It’s all the extra cholesterol they put into their bread,” Y/N joked, “did you get anything for yourself?”

“Yeah,” Harry responded, lifting his chin as he spoke, “eh, I got one of those pink concha things and the hot chocolate? The ch... champ... champ-”

“Champurrado?” Y/N smiled, thinking it absolutely endearing at how hard he was trying to pronounce the term.

“That’s it!” Harry smiled.

“So, what’d you think?” Y/N pressed.

“Eh, was too sweet for me,” Harry grimaced, his dimple making an appearance as he pursed his lips, “but I feel like if I hadn’t gotten it with coconut milk, I would get the appeal.”

“Coconut milk? No, way! You’ve gotta try the almond milk!” Y/N widened her eyes.

“I know, you told me last night, but I usually prefer coconut milk,” Harry commented, “suppose that’s what I get for not listening to you.”

“I may not know a lot, but I know my plant alternative milks,” Y/N perked up, “how bad was the aftermath of the concha?”

“God awful,” Harry scoffed, “I made the mistake of trying to eat it on the way home and it was everywhere. There’s still sugar all over my floor mats and the passenger seat.”

“Oh, no,” Y/N burst into laughter, “m’sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Harry calmed from his own laughter, “was worth it, all the same.”

“You���ll have to get something different, next time. There’s one with pumpkin filling that’s,” Y/N kissed her fingers, making Harry laugh out.

“I have to slow down,” Harry shook his head, “m’getting pudgy.”

“Nonsense, bread goes straight to the heart,” Y/N made a face as though what Harry said could never be imaginable, “besides, pumpkin’s healthy. There’ve actually been studies that it can help boost your immune system!”

“Okay, then, it’s settled,” Harry shrugged, “I’m only eating bread for the rest of my life, so long as it’s stuffed with pumpkin.”

“Sounds like an absolute dream; sign me up,” Y/N sighed out.

“How was your day? What did you do? Anything interesting?” Harry questioned.

“It was fine,” Y/N shrugged, “work and then dinner with friends. Nothing too crazy.”

“Anyone I know?” Harry wanted to take it back as soon as he the words escaped his mouth. He felt it a bit too intrusive, given the little that they knew of one another. He wondered if he had made things awkward, but Y/N seemed unfazed.

“Mm,” she she seemed to think of the answer, “I don’t think so. Not unless you know Michelle Kelvin?”

“Is she related to Maisie?” Harry wrinkled his nose at his screen.

“Yes! They’re second cousins... twice removed... or something weird,” Y/N laughed with a shake of her head, “but yeah! She was supposed to come with us, but couldn’t last minute.”

“She’s cool,” Harry smiled.

“She really is. She always remembers my birthday and sends me a little care package every year around Thanksgiving,” Y/N made that expression he noticed she did a lot. It was whenever she was endeared by something, she would pout out her lower lip, but looked as though she were smiling. He had looked over at his image to see he looked absolutely smitten with whatever it was he was speaking to and wanted to wipe the look off his stupid face.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded his head as he suddenly felt his cheeks start to burn, and he hoped it didn’t translate through to her screen, “she’s nice.”

“I wish I could be more thoughtful,” Y/N shook her head and Harry bit his tongue. He had wanted to comment on how she really was, based off of the stories he had heard from mutual friends. Rob had told him of his wife falling in love with this rare album that she couldn’t find anywhere, and after mentioning it once to Y/N, had found it in the mail a week later with a thank you note from Y/N for dinner. Another one of many anecdotes was how she had volunteered to pick up one his friend’s daughters from school when they couldn’t find anyone else and had brought chocolates and violets for the little girl because her name was Violet. It was after this encounter that Violet would fervently continue to ask for Y/N as a babysitter.

“How was the drive back?” Y/N had interrupted his silence.

“Was fine; got home earlier than expected,” Harry features brightened as his brows momentarily rose, “was able to watch that documentary with the pig thing.”

“Isn’t that crazy?” Y/N laughed, remembering how flabbergasted Harry been when she had told him of a documentary that had explained how researchers were working on facial recognition with pigs the night before.

“Freaky,” Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, “and those birds!”

“I know,” Y/N’s eyes widened as she gaped, "it’s kinda creepy.”

“Yeah! Like, who came up with that? Who was like, let me make some animals that know the weather better than these dense humans,” Harry continued to marvel, and all Y/N could really focus on was how grateful she was to be able to see this side of Harry. She had always dreamed up this imaginary persona that she felt matched up with what interviews and social media had portrayed of the male. But she had made up her mind that she liked this version much better.

+ + +

Y/N had gotten to Magda’s house pretty early—about 6 AM, to be exact. It had been tradition for about two years, now. Y/N had met Magda at a local bookstore when Magda had approached Y/N, asking about what the kids these days were reading. They had instantly bonded over their love and appreciation for classic novels—Jane Austen’s Emma, in particular. Ever since, the two had kept in close contact and Magda had become a sort of adoptive grandmother to Y/N. It had been when Y/N had voiced her yearning for some traditionally homemade tamales that Magda had voiced her proficiency in cooking the dish and had offered to make Y/N a batch as long as she brought over spirits and a good movie. It had become a monthly event, and this time, a newcomer was to be involved.

“So,” Magda beamed as she ferociously scrubbed at a big pot she kept hidden away until moments such as these, “what’s he like?”

“Harry?” Y/N raised her brows as she pulled apart some jackfruit.

“Yes,” Magda encouraged.

“He’s nice,” Y/N nodded and looked up to see Magda knowingly grinning, “s’pretty wonderful, actually.”

“Oh,” Magda gently nodded.

“He’s... I don’t know... thoughtful? Is it foolish to think that’s such a unique feature in a man?” Y/N shook her head.

“It’s a bit disappointing that more men aren’t described in such a way,” Magda shrugged and looked up as she twisted the handle of her faucet.

“That’s true,” Y/N nodded, vacantly looking ahead, “it’s just that... he makes me feel... heard?”

“Unheard of,” Magda teased.

“I know, right,” Y/N laughed, “but he looks into your eyes when you’re talking and... I don’t know... he makes you feel like you’re the only person he’d want to be talking to and as if... what you say actually matters to him. And it’s not just me! He does it with everyone I’ve seen him around... He’s very validating and surprisingly open minded.”

“You’re pretty open minded,” Magda noted.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “not as much as he is, I don’t think. He’s so accepting so long as there’s a good means to an end... if that makes sense. I don’t know, perhaps it’s just the fact that I’ve admired him for so long.”

Magda was about to respond when a knock came at the front door.

“Come in,” the two sang out in chorus before the sound of the doorknob being turned and the sound of the door being pushed open alarmed the two to Harry’s arrival.

“S’this a no shoes household?” Harry asked as he waited at the entrance for a response.

“It’s a whatever you prefer house,” Magda laughed as she looked over at Y/N, “s’very considerate.”

“I told you,” Y/N mumbled as she straightened in her chair.

“Thank you for asking, lovey,” Magda beamed as Harry quietly made his way into the kitchen.

“Oh, s’no problem,” Harry piped up as Y/N turned to smile at him from her stool set at the kitchen island. “Hi,” came Y/N’s greeting before Harry went to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Morning,” Harry almost seemed to mumble as he grinned down at her before remembering the two weren’t alone, “you must be-”

“Magda,” the older woman rubbed her palms on the little apron Y/N had gifted her about a year previously, “so nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Thank you so much for having me,” Harry approached where the woman stood before extending his hand.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” Magda shook her head, “we love having new friends over and cooking for them. It’s such a nice way to show your appreciation for someone, you know?”

Y/N felt her cheeks burn as she knew Magda most likely meant nothing by the statement, but it somehow felt too intimate for Harry to know she appreciated him.

“Completely agree,” Harry nodded his head, still holding onto Magda’s hands.

“Oh, honey, you were right,” Magda called over her shoulder to a clueless Y/N.

“About what?” Y/N scrunched her nose.

“He does make you feel heard,” Magda actually giggled, making Y/N softly chuckle behind the two.

“She’s talking about me? What else has she said?” Harry raised his brows before smirking over at Y/N.

“Magda, did you see where I put the peppers?” Y/N pretended not to hear him as she feigned searching for what she had requested.

“Don’t want you thinking I’m only here to freeload your food. What can I do to help?” Harry turned back to meet Magda’s already adoring gaze.

“Y/N,” Magda gasped before turning to see Y/N’s confused features, “marry this man.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Y/N stated after her initial shock and embarrassment, “you two would be a much lovelier little couple.”

“Oh, hush,” Magda rolled her eyes as she pushed past Harry to grab a hold of the peppers Y/N had supposedly misplaced, “here are your precious missing peppers.”

In no time at all, Magda and Harry had finished making the maza. Magda made a big deal out of how big Harry’s hands were, saying that he was born to knead the dough-like substance that would carry the faux meat they made their tamales with. This, of course, had elicited a small anecdote of how Harry had once worked in a bakery when he was younger, back home. The two had then proceeded to bond over missing their respective homelands and it wasn’t long before Harry was inviting Magda over whenever she felt like a visit and vice versa.

“So, I’ve seen some with like... a different wrapper? Like paper, almost?” Harry furrowed his brows.

“Those are made with corn husks,” Y/N nodded her head as the three worked on loading the ingredients of a tamale into a banana leaf.

“Ah,” Harry seemed to nod in realization, “so how different will these taste? Will they taste like banana?”

“No,” Magda responded with a shake of her head, “it just makes it more... more...”

“Succulent?” Y/N voiced.

“Yes,” Magda nodded, “tender. I tend to think the corn husk tamales can get a little dry, so I like using the banana leaf to give it a little kick.”

“Huh,” Harry nodded, “how many are we shooting for?”

“A lot,” Magda laughed, “we’ll be here all day, lovey. We don’t expect you to hang around all day with us.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry shrugged with a little smile on his face.

“Well, be warned, this one likes making hundreds to give to the friendly... and not so friendly,” Magda grinned as she elbowed Y/N.

“Oh my gosh, don’t bring that up or he’ll never come back here, again,” Y/N tried to refrain her laughter.

“What? Why?” Harry furrowed his brows as he looked between the two laughing friends.

“Y/N likes to go around town to give some to people in need of a good meal,” Magda beamed over at her long time friend, “but this one time-”

“You can’t let this change the way you see San Francisco, though,” Y/N pleaded as she stopped her handwork to look over at an already amused Harry.

“No, of course, not! Harry’s a good boy; he wouldn’t think of it,” Magda shook her head before proceeding, “anyways, nothing bad has really come from it... except for this one time. This one man that was sleeping on the sidewalk and this one goes up to hand him a few tamales when he wakes up, screaming! He had a syringe in one of his hands and charged at her. So this one starts running, and he ended up chasing her to the car!”

“What?” Harry’s eyes bulged out of his skull upon hearing this tale, searching both the female’s features for some sort of validation.

“He couldn’t really run... so I wouldn’t say he chased me, exactly,” Y/N frowned.

“No, honey; he chased you,” Magda shook her head, “but, anyways, she’s not allowed to approach strangers alone, now. We have another good boy that accompanies us when we want to distribute these bad boys around town.”

“You still go?” Harry gaped, ignoring the tinge of jealousy that had bubbled up within him as he wondered who would accompany the two and if he thought the world of Y/N like he did.

“Oh, yeah,” Magda assuredly nodded.

“That’s wild,” Harry shook his head. It was another one of those moments. Another moment where he could feel his heart swell with an emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint for Y/N. He wanted to say it was admiration, because what else could it be after such a story. Somewhere deep inside, he knew better.

Harry had kept his promise, he had stayed pretty much all day. He had helped the two make enough tamales to last a lifetime, or in this case, enough to feed the entire city. When it came time to try them, Y/N had nervously told him it was okay if he didn’t like them while Magda assured him that he would love them and was right. He could not believe the texture and taste that he had earlier been wary about. Magda was insistent on replacing each tamale that he consumed, which had proven detrimental to his physical comfort. After about four, he started to feel pretty weighed down. Luckily, to wash it all down, Magda had made a pitcherful of Jamaica because she knew how much Y/N liked it. Harry’s features had brightened so much that it sent Magda into a fit of laughter at the mention of the beverage. It had been a nice little end to their day—to enjoy the labors of their hard work.

Magda had loaded a few dozen tamales into some cute little Tupperware with ducks on them and had instructed him on the ease of freezing the dish if he wanted to save them for a later date. He knew this wouldn’t be necessary, as he knew he would be attempting to act in Magda’s and Y/N’s image and distribute them. It was after Magda had hugged and kissed him on the cheek that he was led out to the front of the house by Y/N.

“Thank you for coming today,” he was met with Y/N’s sleepy smile as he turned from stepping through the front door and down a step, “hope we didn’t work you too hard.”

“Not at all,” Harry shook his head as he went to hug Y/N’s abdomen, “liked it. I think Magda may be the love of my life.”

“Mine, too,” Y/N’s smile deepened.

“You sure you don't want a ride home?” Harry inquired, pouting out his bottom lip the way she had a few nights previously.

“Nah,” Y/N shook her head with a shrug of her shoulders, “thank you. You know the offer still stands if you’re too tired to drive. Believe me, Magda will be more than happy to have you stay here tonight.”

“I think I’m okay,” Harry stated with a little nod of his head, “have to feed Matt’s cat.”

“Right,” Y/N shook her head, “forgot.”

“Get some sleep,” Harry pulled Y/N in to kiss the wrinkle between her brows away, “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

All Y/N could do was nod in her tired state.

“Yeah?” Harry seemed to bump his body into her own to get a response.

“Yeah,” Y/N laughed.

“Good,” Harry dimpled with satisfaction before going to press his lips to Y/N’s.

+ + +

“What are you doing?” Came the voice on Y/N’s speaker. She had been thrown across her couch, making endless loops with some yarn and two knitting needles.

“Knitting, watching Princess Diaries, and mourning the death of my youth,” Y/N rambled, as she ended one row of stitches to look over at her television screen.

“Oy. The first or second one?” Harry questioned as Y/N went back to her stitches.

“The one with Chris Pine,” Y/N wiggled her brows to herself.

“Ooh, what a dreamboat,” Harry sang out, making Y/N laugh out.

“He is quite nice to look at,” Y/N commented with a sigh.

“I suppose—if you’re into that tall dark and handsome type,” Harry quickly snapped, Y/N’s brows furrowing. Was there a tinge of jealousy in his tone?

“I mean,” Y/N reasoned, “I guess I kinda am.”

“Well,” Harry cleared his throat, “just feel like you wouldn’t have much in common with him.”

“Why? I think we’d make a good match,” Y/N frowned as she paused her actions once more.

“He’s an old man! Already has salt n’pepper hair,” Harry rebuked.

“S’kinda hot, though,” Y/N shrugged to herself.

“You little weirdo. What are you doing this Saturday? Thought we could go get some dim sum,” Harry suggested.

“Eh,” Y/N sucked in her lips as she seriously considered canceling her plans to hang out with Harry, “I have a wedding thing this weekend. Starts on Thursday; s’one of those three day weddings with the bachelorette party, rehearsal dinner, yada yada yada.”

“Oh,” came a pause from Harry’s end, “that sounds fun. S’it in town?”

“No; it’s in L.A.,” Y/N explained, “are you free on Sunday?”

“Oh... yeah,” Harry’s tone sounded odd but she didn’t want to question it; she felt it too soon in their relationship (if you could even call it that) to inquire, “yeah, d’you wanna try something here?”

“Yeah, what would you recommend?” Y/N asked as she finished another row of stitches.

“There’s this great sushi place in Malibu, if you’re up for that,” Harry suggested, “or there’s a good Indian place around the corner.”

“Ooh, you said sushi and my mouth already started watering,” Y/N laughed.

“Sushi it is, then,” Harry chimed.

+ + +

Y/N had been pretty tuckered out as she sat at a little round table, alone, watching everybody around her seeming to be having the time of their lives. Her feet had started aching from the heels she had slipped into at the beginning of the day, her hair had long sagged in the deliberately messy bun she had styled her hair in, and her chest had expanded and collapsed pretty jaggedly as she caught her breath from her friend, Angie, twirling her around the dance floor. It was when she was laughing at the drunken groom trying to lead his bride in a simple turn that she noticed her phone light up her open clutch. Normally, she wouldn’t have checked the notification, but something told her it may be the boy she had been talking to as of late.

She had posted a photo much earlier of the bride placing her veil over Y/N as she was digging into her pasta entree, snapped by the same Angie that had been twirling her earlier. Y/N found Harry had reacted to the photo and sent a message.

That looks fucking amazing. How do you feel about pasta instead, tomorrow??

p.s. you look really pretty 

Y/N couldn’t help the huge smile that came across her features as she peered down at the message. She had been typing out a little response when somebody had plopped down next to her.

“What happened to no phones?” Alex, one of Y/N’s oldest companions narrowed his eyes at her.

“I’m just checking in on something,” Y/N laughed as she hastened typing out her message.

“Absolutely not,” Alex grabbed a hold of Y/N’s phone and tucked it in his pocket.

“Alex!” Y/N gasped as she plunged for the device.

“You're missing Michael trying to seduce Paul,” Alex nodded towards some of their friends laughing at a slightly tipsy male.

“What else is new?” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Last year he tried that with you and was horrified when you actually locked lips.”

“Somehow that boy forgets that I’m a raging homosexual every year, and I’m sick of it,” Alex shook his head, “I will give this back to you if you come shake what the good Lord gave you for an entire song.”

“Alex,” Y/N started before he gave her a glare.

“We haven’t danced one song together and you’ll be heading home soon, I know it,” Alex pouted.

“Okay,” Y/N gave in, knowing she could finish her message to Harry afterwards.

“C’mon, girl,” Alex reached out his hands for Y/N to take. She could only laugh as he led her over to the dance floor before he had dropped into a squat to one of the last notes of a Saweetie song before a salsa blasted over the speakers.

“Aw,” Alex groaned before he stood to his full height.

“You said,” Y/N began, more teasing, if anything.

“I know what I said,” Alex rolled his eyes as he proceeded to take Y/N’s hands, once more, before leading her into a turn. It wasn’t long before Michael, another companion, had whipped out his phone and had gone around tormenting people with his flash video recording. A few dancing couples had shoved their hands in front of the camera lens before he had approached Alex and Y/N. Alex had seen the camera pointed at them and had pulled Y/N to him before he had dipped Y/N and pulled her back up, before going to peck at Y/N’s lips. Y/N had thought nothing of the video as she laughed and went to hug Alex as he shouted something at Michael’s giggling features. The two had known each other for years and a peck here and there was the norm between the two companions. Y/N had not thought of any repercussion. She did not think there might have been a certain male laying in his bed, the glow of his phone’s screen illuminating his smiling features as he opened one of his friend’s Instagram stories to see the girl he had been talking to being pulled to some man’s chest before locking lips with him. She had not thought of how his little smile would fade as he kept tapping on the left side of his screen to replay the video—to replay the way she smiled and hugged onto the strange male’s body. No, Y/N hadn’t thought very much of how that might look.

+ + +

The next morning, Y/N was surprised to not hear from Harry. She had started getting ready, however, knowing Harry would eventually message her with an address, because he had promised to do so earlier that week. She had finished slipping on her shoes when she went to check her empty lock screen. The place they had settled on was about forty minutes away, and if she was to make the time they had initially agreed upon, she would have to leave any minute. She decided to send Harry the following:

Morning, sunshine! ☀️ We still meeting up for lunch?

She figured she could start on her journey. Even if Harry cancelled, which she didn’t foresee, she could just enjoy the drive, maybe get some coffee... She had been about fifteen minutes into her drive when her phone rang out. The message read out went something along the lines of:

Hey, something came up last minute. Can’t meet today, rain check?

Y/N couldn’t help but instantly feel a little blue as she responded.

Of course; hope everything is okay. Take care!

Harry did not respond to this message and Y/N thought it a little odd, but figured whatever had come up must have been important. Y/N had driven past Malibu and caught sight of a cafe on her way back. She figured she deserved a treat and had decided to pull in for some coffee and maybe dessert if they had anything good. She had been quickly seated and had been browsing the small menu when the sound of another party was alerted with the ding of the bell attached to the front door. Y/N had looked up out of habit and had thought nothing of the couple that had entered before she glanced back at the menu before realizing why one of them had looked so familiar. Trailing behind a pretty looking woman was the person she had originally had plans with that morning—one Mr. Harry Styles. Y/N hastily went to raise her menu to cover her face, praying that he hadn’t seen her. She couldn’t help but peek over the top of the menu as she watched the two follow a waiter to the outdoor seating just in front of her. Of all the coincidental instances she had encountered in her life, she couldn’t think of one more embarrassing than the one she sat in. Her shock and horror had slowly started to morph into discontent as she watched the two speak. It was clear that the female had more than platonic interests in Harry by the way she leaned forward, hanging onto every word that came from his lips... the same ones that had been pressed to hers not that long ago. She could not believe her eyes, and she suddenly felt as if she was going to be ill.

“Good morning! How are you?” Y/N’s view of Harry and his companion was suddenly interrupted by a tall woman that had stepped in front of Y/N’s seat.

“Oh, eh,” Y/N glanced at the menu, wondering how rude it would be to excuse herself. She had considered staying and watching the two, but she felt that would be an enormous invasion of Harry’s privacy... that and she couldn’t stand the idea of him seeing her—alone, at that. “I’m so sorry, I... I have to go.”

“Oh,” the waitress stepped back as she watched Y/N collect her things, “is anything wrong?”

“You have no idea,” Y/N sent a glance out to the terrace where Harry sat intently watching his companion speak, “s’nothing, sorry, thank you so much for your time and help.”

+ + +

Y/N hadn’t been back to the house she had been staying at for very long. She had arrived and had marched straight to the living room where she allowed herself to plop down to lay on the carpeted floor. As she stared up at the ceiling, she wondered why such a string of events had bothered her so much. She told herself again and again how she wasn’t jealous but peeved at the principle of canceling on her to see someone else... but she knew the green eyed monster was involved. She had absolutely no right to be jealous. She and Harry had just met, and he was allowed to see other people if he wanted to. It wasn’t as if she had committed to only seeing him, either. Nobody had asked her, but she was free to see other people. Oh, but she couldn’t get over how much she hurt over seeing him with someone else. It was something different to know he was seeing other people, but to actually see it? She felt positively icky. She had grabbed her phone in attempt to distract herself when she noticed a message that had been delivered a little while ago, most likely a few minutes after leaving the cafe.

Was that you?

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she stared at the message from the person that had been tying her stomach in knots. She locked her phone and laid the phone on her abdomen, not knowing if she wanted to reply. She almost never wanted to speak to him, again... but she knew she had no valid reason for it.

Where?

She had decided to play ignorant, as she wished he would leave her alone; at least for the time being. Didn’t he have that woman to entertain himself with?

Are you still in town? Fancy a visit?

Y/N couldn’t muster the energy for a visit. She couldn’t imagine how she could possibly refrain from asking who he had been with. So, she did something she wouldn’t normally do.

Did whoever came up get resolved? I’m actually heading back home today and I need to pack 😕 rain check?

Y/N wasn’t one to be petty or passive aggressive, but something about the situation had just rubbed her the wrong way. She had almost hoped that perhaps her message had deterred Harry’s friendship, and that she would never see him again. She wasn’t surprised when she did not receive a reply from the male and had went about her day, just a little bit more melancholy than she usually would have been leaving town.

+ + +

A few months had come and gone, and Harry would have liked to say that Y/N had become a distant memory, but that was nowhere near the case. He thought more about her than he would like to admit. He knew he had struck a nerve when he had gotten her last message, and had become slightly infuriated by it. How could she have been so snappy when he had been the one to reach out after she had been out locking lips with some random bloke? Sure, she had seen him out with one of the women that his friends had been trying to set him up with, but he had asked to see her, damn it. Wasn’t that enough of a gesture? He had been out with a few different people since, in attempts to forget the female, but it was all to no avail. How could anybody compare to the strange little person he had eaten so much food with on a rooftop all that time ago?

Nevertheless, he had continued seeing her in his friends’ posts. She looked good, as usual. Something so simply classic about the clothes she wore and her disposition in each snapshot. He had noticed in the past that she would never pose smiling, but as of late, she had smiled in almost all the photos he saw of her. He wasn’t sure why such a small detail had resonated with him. She had cut her hair and lightened it since the last time he had seen her. He wanted to believe she had done so because of him. He had read something about women changing their hair after meaningful relationships, but he didn’t want to flatter himself. It had been when he had been visiting an old friend and sipping on a glass of sauvignon blanc—it hadn’t been that good if he was being honest—that his friend had really thrown him for a loop.

“Have you seen this?” Andrew nodded at the title of the film he had landed on. Harry usually never had his phone out when visiting good friends, but he had been waiting on a message from his sister. He had looked up from his messages to find, to his surprise, Y/N’s face staring back at him.

“S’this new?” Harry mumbled, still staring at Y/N’s features. She had been looking straight into the camera when the photo had been taken, and from the look of her surroundings, it looked like some sort of 60s mystery film.

“Says it was released this year,” Andrew shrugged, “don’t you know her or something?”

“Not really,” Harry cleared his throat, “looks stupid.”

“Stupid?” Andrew furrowed his brows at Harry.

“What?” Harry glared over at him.

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that word,” Andrew grinned.

“Well, it does, doesn’t it?” Harry nervously laughed, feeling a tinge of guilt creep over him.

“S’got that guy from X-Men in it... Think she looks nice,” Andrew shrugged as he took a drink from his glass, “wouldn’t mind if I made a pass?”

“A pass,” Harry scrunched his nose, “won’t get very far with that kind of thinking.”

“Alright, mate,” Andrew rolled his eyes as he continued scrolling through the streaming service, “I get it.”

“Well, there’s nothing to get,” Harry shook his head, “didn’t mean anything by it; go for it.”

+ + +

“Magda?” Y/N had called from the older woman’s kitchen. She had let herself in with the key that Magda had made for her and had worried when she could’t find the lady on the lower level of her home. “M’up here, lovey,” Magda hollered from the second floor of her home.

“Sorry, m’late,” Y/N vocalized as she treaded up the stairs before finding Magda sat on the floor, kneeled atop a gargantuan white canvas with paint splatters here and there. There was the outline of a young woman’s face ever so slightly traced out from what Y/N could see.

“No, no, honey! You're fine,” Magda shook her head as she looked up from the piece, making Y/N smile at some stray smeared paint across the older woman’s forehead, “eh... the books are over there on that chair over there, if you want to take ‘em today.”

“Oh, thanks,” Y/N glanced over her shoulder before going to look back at the painting, “this is huge.”

“Uh, yeah,” Magda seemed to nervously chuckle as she wiped her hands on her overalls. Y/N noticed the elder was avoiding making eye contact with her as she kept looking down at the painting or at her hands.

“Who’s it for? You never do projects this big unless someone’s hanging it in the Guggenheim or donating a pretty penny,” Y/N commented as she walked around the canvas edges to get to the chair Magda had pointed out earlier. All Magda could do was offer another nervous chuckle as she went to push some straggle hairs from her face. Y/N could sense the awkward air between her and the woman she came to trust like she trusted her own mother.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Y/N shook her head, feeling her cheeks burn out of an embarrassment she couldn’t pinpoint.

“No,” Magda went to shake her own head as she let out a heavy sigh, “no. You’re not prying, honey. I’m the one that’s making the situation awkward... Um... It’s... it’s for Harry.”

Y/N could not find words at the mention of his name. She didn’t know why she felt so bothered... so betrayed. There was no reason that Magda could not speak to Harry. She really didn’t even know the circumstances surrounding Y/N’s broken communication with him. All Magda knew was that they weren’t speaking, and Y/N knew it was silly to feel so deeply about her contact with the person that had wounded her pride a while back... but Magda was family. Shouldn’t that count for something? Y/N sure wouldn’t be friendly with somebody Magda had shunned, which would be impossible because Magda didn’t believe in holding grudges.

“Oh,” Y/N finally choked out, nodding her head as she broke eye contact with Magda to pick up the books that had been set on the chair she had been earlier directed towards.

“If this bothers you, honey,” Magda began.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling as she sighed out, “it doesn’t. I’m being silly.”

“It’s just... he came by last week to make tamales,” Magda began, making Y/N’s head jerk up to meet her gaze, “he said he knew you were taking that trip and wanted to ensure that we didn’t break tradition. And he got a glance of some of the work I did when I was younger and he begged for me to make him something and that he’d pay whatever I asked, and I said I would do it if he donated to this stem cell research fund I’ve been working with, and he said he’d be thrilled, and I just couldn’t say no to such a generous donation and-”

“You don’t have to... justify it,” Y/N shook her head, “I’m sorry. I... I’m just being... childish, and... I guess I’m still sore at him for being so... I don’t know. I’m just happy you got such a big donation.”

“Look, he didn’t tell me what happened,” Magda shrugged her shoulders after a pause came between them, “but whatever it was... he’s moved past it.”

“That’s good,” Y/N tightly smiled as she opened the book that was on the top of the stack.

“If you don’t want me to do it,” Magda offered before Y/N shook her head once more.

“Do it,” Y/N nodded, “please. Don’t pay any attention to me; I’m just being... it doesn’t matter. I think you should do it.”

“Are you sure?” Magda pressed, her eyes searching for her answer in Y/N’s eyes.

“Of course,” Y/N nodded.

+ + +

Y/N had had a few. She wasn’t stumbling or slurring her words, but she was feeling quite toasty. She had been invited to some party, some celebration for someone she didn’t know and had been delighted for some excuse to get all gussied up and have drinks with some friends... Friends that had disappeared about thirty minutes after their first drink, but that was no worry. Y/N had soon found some drunken girl that had globbed onto her after claiming she looked better than Naomi Campbell did on the 1995 Chanel spring runway. It hadn’t taken too long for the two to find a permanent dancing partner in each other as the two had clasped hands as they sang along to almost all the songs that had blasted over the speakers. They had just finished shouting lyrics to one another before the girl yelled something about having to go back to her friends.

“You should come with me, I have this really cute friend who’s single and ready to fuck whoever crosses his path,” Glenda, Y/N’s new drunken friend, droned.

“Okay, but food first! I’m starved! You want anything?” Y/N yelled over the music before Glenda asked for a shot before pointing to where a group of her friends were sat. Y/N didn’t think much as she loaded her plate with the cucumber salad she had been eyeing all night. There hadn’t been too much food for her, most all dishes had featured some animal product, but she wasn’t one to complain too much about it. She debated whether she should make her way back to the table she had originally been sat at to see if any of her friends were there, but she liked meeting new people and had a strange goal for taking the opportunity to make new friends. So, she had forced herself over to where the girl had plopped down, Glenda’s eyes lighting up at the sight of the shot glass in Y/N’s other hand.

“Thanks, girl!” Glenda beamed as Y/N handed her the glass.

“How’s the cucumber salad?” Came a familiar tone from the other side of the table. Y/N wished she had just gone to sit alone at the table she had originally been sat at, even if that meant she would be alone.

“Hey, Harry,” Y/N smiled as she shoveled a fork full of cucumber into her mouth.

“This is my friend I was telling you about,” Glenda grabbed at Y/N’s arm with excitement, wiggling her eyebrows, suggestively.

“Ah,” Y/N laughed, remembering Glenda’s words about her cute, promiscuous friend.

“What were you telling her?” Harry’s words were drowned out by the man next to him rising to make his way over to where Y/N had been.

“M’Andrew,” the man stuck his hand out for Y/N to take.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N smiled as she juggled to hold her cucumber salad bowl in one hand and shake the male’s with her other, “Y/N.”

“We were just talking about you the other day,” Andrew leaned closer to Y/N’s ear.

“Really? Why?” Y/N furrowed her brows.

“Your movie came up while we were browsing on Netflix,” Andrew smiled, “and Harry, here, had nothing but good things to say about you.”

“That’s nice,” Y/N smiled at Harry before turning back to speak to the male that had approached her.

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. He had legitimately thought Andrew was kidding that day; he didn’t think he would have to sit and watch his friend talk up the girl that he had been so invested in a few months previously. He did tell him to “go for it,” but it still felt wrong. He hated the way she smiled at him and seemed to tune out everyone else to pay attention to what he had to say. Harry knew Andrew, he didn’t have much interesting to say. He hated how sour his mood had suddenly become as he watched them over the rim of the glass he had raised to his lips. He knew it was unhealthy, but he couldn’t help but to start comparing himself to Andrew. He was a little taller than he was, but wasn’t that nice... He had to refrain his jaw from dropping as Andrew extended his open palm for Y/N to take before Andrew led her to the dance floor. He had lost visual on them and he couldn’t help what happened next.

“Glenda,” Harry seemed to bark.

“Yeah?” She innocently responded, furrowing her brows at Harry’s fixated features. He had nodded towards the crowd of people dancing, causing Glenda to squeal with delight. None of their friends had danced with her all night, or had danced, period. Harry didn’t get why they would go to a party just to sit and try to talk over loud music, as he usually enjoyed dancing around a few bodies after a few drinks and had even taken Glenda out a for a few songs, but he had lost interest pretty quickly on the dance floor as a pretty girl had been sat back with his friends. In any event, it was with great force that Glenda had pulled his arm as she led him to the dance floor where a bunch of bodies had been dancing to a Drake song. It was coincidental that Glenda had led him to where Y/N and Andrew had been dancing. Y/N had noticed him, but Harry acted the ignorant. He couldn’t help but become distracted by Glenda when she had started spanking him before he turned to dance along to the music with her. It was a bit hard for Harry to watch what was happening with Y/N and Andrew as they had been dancing behind him. He had tried turning Glenda so that he could get a better view, but it had not worked as she would shimmy back to their original positions. He would occasionally make a big show of making a turn, but it was more purposeful than anybody could really know. A song Harry didn’t recognize came on and Glenda screamed and pointed behind Harry, at who he had assumed was Y/N. Harry hoped to God he wouldn’t turn around to see anything too jarring between her and Andrew; he didn’t think he could handle that. Thankfully, though, Glenda had pushed past him as she went to grind on Y/N’s tummy, making him laugh as Y/N had raised her bowl and kept eating her cucumber salad and allowing Glenda to keep grinding on her. If Y/N hadn't been involved, Harry might have gone back to the table and people watched. However, Y/N was involved, and she was giggly and cute, and he had missed her. So, he stayed and danced alongside Andrew before Glenda stopped grinding her rear on Y/N and turned to look at Harry, a grin playing at her features. He knew she would try to do the same to him, and he couldn’t have that in front of Y/N. So, he took the initiative to turn and rub his back on Glenda, earning a few cat calls from her as she grabbed a hold of his hips and tried to shake them. All Harry could do was laugh as he turned back around to grab her hands so he could turn her.

“Wait, I’m gonna puke!” Glenda sobbed as she grabbed on Harry’s forearm.

“Oh, no,” Harry frowned as his arm slipped around her back, trying to support her as her fist went to her mouth.

“I’ll take care of it,” Andrew rolled his eyes as he grabbed a hold of Harry’s shoulder as he spoke into his ear, “this one hasn’t stopped looking at you.”

“Maybe I should take her,” Y/N yelled, as she went to grab at Glenda.

“No, s’okay! You stay and dance with Harry,” Andrew shouted as he took a hold of a woozy Glenda.

“It’s fine, I can take her,” Y/N shook her head.

“I’m gonna take her outside for some fresh air,” Andrew explained. Y/N looked over at Harry, and he somehow knew she was worried about Glenda’s safety with the male she had just met. Harry knew even with his reassurance, Y/N would still have been worried.

“I’ll take her, s’fine,” Harry yelled as he grabbed a hold of Glenda’s arm and started for the door.

“M’sorry,” Glenda continually apologized as the two made their way out of the building.

“S’okay,” Harry rubbed at the female’s back as the two stepped out into the breezy night air. It wasn’t long before Glenda had retched into a nearby shrub, Harry holding her hair for her as he tried not to look at the sick coming out of her mouth.

“Oh, good!” Came a voice from behind him, making him look over to see Y/N hurrying toward them with Abby, one of the friends he had been sat with.

“I’ll take her home,” Abby sighed once the two met Harry, “I’m tired, anyways.”

“Glenda, I have your jumper,” Y/N commented as she held out the sweater in front of her, “ooh, s’cute.”

“Thanks,” Glenda laughed as she stood to her full height, fisting the corner of her mouth before Y/N helped her into the piece of clothing.

“C’mon, Glen,” Abby rolled her eyes as Harry passed Glenda to Abby.

“Can you get her to the car?” Y/N doubtfully asked.

“Oh, absolutely,” Abbie nodded, “this happens every weekend. I would have a gold medal if it was a sport in the Olympics.” “Oh, okay, then,” Y/N smiled as she rubbed Glenda’s arm, “s’nice meeting you.”

“You too, girl,” Glenda lazily smiled, “did I get any puke on you this time, Abby?”

“No,” Abby sighed as she looked down at her heels, “not yet.”

“You okay to drive?” Harry inquired.

“I’ve been dry for a year, now,” Abby furrowed her brows at Harry.

“S’right, sorry,” Harry shook his head, wearily.

“S’alright. Well, was nice meeting you, Y/N. We’ll do this again, yeah? Well, hopefully not the whole puking thing,” Abby laughed.

“Of course,” Y/N smiled as her fingers went to tuck her hair behind her ear, Abby and Glenda turning to make their way to their car.

“You two have a good night,” Abby sang before continuing to lead Glenda to her car. 

There came a moment where Harry and Y/N stood still, Y/N watching Glenda and Abby as Harry watched Y/N. After watching her sigh, Harry had been caught staring as she turned to look up at him.

“What?” She innocently questioned.

“You hungry?” He asked, his mouth only slightly smiling at her.

+ + +

“Here ya go,” a tall brunette waiter had set two waters and laminated menus on the table Harry and Y/N had been seated at before turning on his heel to leave the two.

“How’d you know about this place?” Harry asked as he picked up one of the menus and glanced over the options.

“Oh, uh, my dad and I used to come here every year for one of his work meetings,” Y/N answered.

“For his work meetings?” Harry’s brows pressed towards his hairline.

“Yeah; he was in this like... society of engineers... Basically a bunch of geeks getting together every few months to talk about quantum physics or something along those lines... We’d always get in so late on the first day and we’d be starving, but there were never a lot of places open. This place always was, though,” Y/N smiled as she looked around the room, “we would never run out of conversation here, even though we had spent the entire day in silence on the way up here. S’weird. Haven’t been here in a while.”

“Why not? Does your father live far away? You don’t bring him here anymore?” Harry innocently asked.

“It’d be kind of hard for him since he’s passed away,” Y/N smiled. If it had been anyone else, Harry would have thought the comment a bit snippy. For some reason, he felt she was trying to make a joke of it. For his sake; he didn’t know.

“Oh, m’sorry,” Harry offered his condolences before being met by a short pause.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that,” Y/N’s smile softened before she shook her head and went to look at the menu to change the subject, “they have excellent spring rolls here.”

“Sorry to say it, but I can’t stand them,” Harry narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

“Oh, me, either,” Y/N laughed as she put her menu down, “I ate too many once and threw them up. I can’t eat them, but I appreciate them.”

“Ah, that’s valid. I just hate basil,” Harry shrugged as he stole another glance at her. He felt nervous, all of a sudden. He hadn’t felt nervous on the drive over, or when Y/N had to scoot closer to him while waiting to be seated because the entrance was small and a couple needed more space to exit the establishment. He hadn't been nervous when he got the chance to catch a whiff of her hair to find though she changed her hair, she still used the shampoo that left it smelling so nice. “You’ve changed your hair.”

“Hm? Oh,” Y/N pursed her lips as her palms went to flatten her hair, “yeah... it looks weird.”

“I like it,” Harry commented, without looking up from his menu.

“These bangs are a bit much,” Y/N sighed out as she allowed her elbows onto the edge of the table, her chin going to rest in the palm of her hand.

“I think it looks great,” Harry furrowed his brows.

“M’not... fishing for compliments or anything,” Y/N shook her head.

“Know that,” Harry nodded, “just think you look really good.”

“Oh,” Y/N’s lips barely smiled, “thanks.”

“What else do you recommend, because everything looks good to a person that hasn’t eaten since breakfast,” Harry sighed.

“Their burger’s scrummy,” Y/N suggested, “you can get either fries or these really great avocado fries... they also have this amazing pad thai.”

“Pad thai and burgers? Am I wrong to be a little nervous?” Harry looked up at Y/N, doubtfully.

“I mean, yeah,” Y/N laughed before shrugging her shoulders, “but I think great things come from things that make you nervous.”

“Alright, alright,” Harry sucked in his lips, “but if it’s not, you owe me another dinner date.”

“Oh, this isn’t a dinner date,” Y/N shook her head.

“It isn’t?” Harry questioned from behind his menu.

“No, at least, not like that,” Y/N shook her head as she went to sip from the water that had been set before them earlier.

“Like what?” Harry cocked his head at Y/N.

“You know,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“No, I don’t know. Clue me in,” Harry stated before grabbing his own glass and sipping water from it. For some reason, Y/N could not take the way he peered at her over the rim of his glass and had to break eye contact—such an innocent thing felt much too intimate.

“Never mind,” Y/N shook her head.

“No, now I want to know,” Harry smirked, “now that I think about it, Andrew did say something about you not being able to take your eyes off of me tonight.”

“Oh, did he?” Y/N’s brows rose, her lips curling into a smile.

“I mean, my arse does look really good in these pants,” Harry spoke before shaking his head and bursting into laughter, “please forget that I said that.”

“No,” Y/N laughed, “that will live rent free in my mind forever.”

“Fine with me,” Harry calmed from his fit of laughter, “so long as you tell me what you meant before.”

The two were interrupted when the handsome waiter from before came by to take their order. Harry fought the jealousy that started creeping in when the waiter started blatantly flirting with Y/N in front of him. He had no right to be jealous about someone that didn’t belong to him. It wasn’t long before he had finally left them with one last "my dear” being thrown at Y/N.

“So?” Harry pressed. “What?” Y/N asked out of confusion as to what Harry was referring to.

“What’d you mean? Why isn’t this a date?” Harry questioned.

“Oh, sorry to disappoint, but that topic is closed, my friend,” Y/N emphasized, hoping he would get the hint.

“Friend?” Harry’s teasing mood turned somber.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, trying to hide her own disappointment.

“Alright, then,” Harry sighed in defeat as he twiddled his fingers, “how’d you know Glenda?”

“I don’t,” Y/N shook her head as she looked up from her clasped hands before her.

“Then how,” Harry trailed off, his brows pinched together.

“We only just met tonight,” Y/N explained.

“Huh,” Harry voiced with a slow nod of his head, “so, what’d she tell you about me?”

“Why’d you wanna know?” Y/N knowingly grinned and Harry knew he was done for.

“Dunno,” Harry shrugged as his gaze dropped back down to his glass, “was just curious.”

“Alright, then,” Y/N sighed, looking up to the ceiling as if doing so would help her recall what Glenda had said any better, “said you were really cute.”

“That’s not so bad,” Harry breathed out a sigh.

“You sound relieved,” Y/N commented, narrowing her eyes at the male.

“Do I?” Harry innocently questioned.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded.

“Hm,” Harry’s brows rose and fell as he went to take another drink from his water.

“’Course she also told me you were ready to fuck whoever crossed your path,” Y/N nonchalantly spoke, resulting in Harry choking on his sip of water. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh out as she reached for a napkin to hand him.

“She did no such thing,” Harry’s response was muffled as he wiped his mouth.

“I know what I heard,” Y/N spoke with a nod of her head, “and she specifically said-”

“I got it the first time, thanks,” Harry interrupted, his skin turning crimson red.

“Oh, there’s no shame in it,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “must be fun.”

“M’not like that, usually... you know that,” Harry furrowed his brows.

“Yeah,” Y/N’s laughter softened, “also said you were single.”

“What happened to friends, huh?” Harry grinned.

“I,” Y/N’s jaw dropped before laughing out, “I was just saying. I was trying to distract from your embarrassing ass comment.”

“Uh huh, okay. Sure,” Harry narrowed his eyes at Y/N, “what about Andrew?”

“What about him?” Y/N’s laughter converted into a small smile as she looked at her finger running across the table.

“What’d you think of him?” Harry was met by a shrug from Y/N. “Don’t seem too impressed.”

“He’s nice, but I didn’t really get to talk to him that much,” Y/N explained.

“Ah,” Harry nodded, “well, don’t think you’d like him very much for too long.”

“Why?” Y/N questioned, furrowing her brows.

“He’s no good at it,” Harry shrugged, nonchalantly.

“At what?” Y/N inquired, still clueless.

“At crocheting scarves for his nan, what else?” Harry rolled his eyes, Y/N still not understanding. “At it, Y/N.”

“Oh,” Y/N finally seemed to understand as her furrowed brows softened before her features scrunched up once more, “oh. Well, that’s crap. He’s kinda cute.”

“Well,” Harry shook his head, “all I’ve heard are complaints.”

“Unless you’ve bedded him, I don’t think you have the right to say,” Y/N cocked her head at Harry.

“Who says I haven’t?” Harry questioned.

“Mm, I don’t see him being your type,” Y/N scrunched her nose.

“My type? Who’d you think my type is?” Harry asked, hoping she would say something along the lines of herself.

“Hm,” Y/N closed one eye as the other looked up, “either a real man’s man, like a logger or something... or an old, handsome sugar daddy type.”

Harry couldn’t help the laugh that had come from his belly at her words.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Y/N smiled, knowingly.

+ + +

It hadn’t been too late by the time Y/N had trudged through her front door, Harry trailing behind. She was happy to be home. Even with the short amount of time she was away, she missed her little home and the scent of potpourri mixed with the remnant aroma of that one Apple Toddy candle that never seemed to burn out. She had dropped her bag on the little bench she had by the door before bending over to undo the straps of her shoes.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Y/N spoke as she peered up at Harry to find him taking in his surroundings.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled as he looked down to see her pull off her heels and throw them beneath the little bench she had stopped by. After finishing his meal and having to voice how much he liked it to a knowing Y/N, Y/N had asked where Harry was staying. He had said he was staying at a friend’s house over an hour away, and Y/N couldn’t let him drive such a long distance so late in the night. It didn’t have to take much convincing for Harry to accept the offer, as he had wondered what the inside of her home looked like ever since dropping her off so many nights previously. 

“Lucky for you,” Y/N sighed out as she walked up the stairs that led to the main level of the home, “I bought a pajama set that was grossly mislabeled online; I think it’d fit you just fine!”

“Okay,” Harry laughed as he wondered where to put his shoes. She had tossed hers underneath that little bench, but there was a door to the side, which he assumed was a closet.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked from above.

“Eh,” Harry cleared his throat, “s’it matter where I put m’shoes?”

“Oh, no,” Y/N shook her head, “wherever’s fine.”

“Okay,” Harry said under his breath as Y/N disappeared out of sight. As Harry treaded up the steep stairs to the upper level, he was overwhelmed with the scent of cinnamon... maybe vanilla. He had smelled something wonderful upon entering her home, but it became much more warmer and sweeter when he stepped foot on the last step. He instantly thought he liked the layout of the small little home. Off to his right, there was a little living room that led out through siding doors onto a spectacular little balcony with a view of the city’s night lights twinkling in the distance. Straight ahead seemed to be a dark kitchen. To his left, a hallway was illuminated by a few plug in night lights. He thought better than to invite himself into her bedroom and had furthered into the living room. He had been peering down at a rug that he wished he could rub his bare toes against when nearing footsteps had made him turn to see Y/N approaching him.

“They’ve been tucked away for a while, but,” Y/N voiced as she looked up from the pajamas she held. Harry wondered why she had stopped in her tracks while Y/N thought how surreal it was to see Harry stood in the middle of her living room, toeing at the rug she had just purchased. “They should be pretty comfortable... at least it felt soft when I last tried it on.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled as he approached her, his hands going to take the pajamas from her hands. It was when he noticed her looking intently at his face that he worried something was wrong. Had she suddenly felt uncomfortable with him in her house? God, he hoped he didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. “S’everything alright?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” Y/N spoke softly as she seemed to snap out of whatever trance she had been in, “sorry.”

“What for?” Harry’s eyes seemed to search her own for the answer.

“I don’t know,” she smiled and shook her head. Her senses were suddenly overcrowded by what she assumed was his cologne—something between vanilla and ginger.

“Where can I change?” Harry asked as he looked behind her, towards the hallway she had come from.

“Uh,” Y/N shook her head once more, trying to regain her focus, “first door on the left.”

“Alright, thanks,” Harry smiled as his finger tips went to brush at her hand. The simple touch seemed to stay constant even when he passed her to retreat into the room she had instructed him to. She wondered if maybe he would just stay in her spare bedroom after changing into the pajamas she had provided. She padded into her kitchen to pour a glass of water as she looked out into the sea of yellow dots through her kitchen window. She had been slowly sipping on the liquid when she heard Harry approach her.

“Sleepy?” Harry asked as he lingered in the threshold separating the kitchen from the other rooms.

“Not really,” she lied.

+ + +

“Who’s Fabio?” Harry asked, pulling out another one of Y/N’s vinyls from the stand that also held her record player. Y/N had been laid out on the couch, her legs thrown up, over the side as she threw her head back to see what Harry had been talking about.

“That’s Antonio Solis, you boob,” Y/N gasped as she flipped over to her belly.

“Who’s he?” Harry scrunched his nose as he turned the record cover back around to take a better look.

“He’s, like, a totally famous artist,” Y/N explained, “well, he was in a really famous band—that’s them. The Bukis.”

“What does that mean in Spanish?” Harry asked, looking up from his place seated on top of a throw blanket Y/N had tossed to him so that he wouldn’t have to sit directly on her cold, hard wood floor.

“I don’t really know,” Y/N furrowed her brows, “I don’t know if it means anything, actually.”

“Are they any good?” Harry inquired, raising the record.

“They’re famous for a reason, Harry,” Y/N teased, “you can put it on, if you want.”

“What’s your favorite side?” Harry asked as he rose to his knees. They had first  listened to a man named Joao Gilberto who Y/N had marveled at him for not knowing. He was able to recognize one song as “that song they always play in the elevator,” which had caused Y/N to gasp out in horror before laughing out one of those laughs he had missed so much. The kind that wasn’t inhibited by self-consciousness or restraint. It was goofy, but so endearing, somehow. Then, Harry had recognized a Van Morrison album and had replaced the record. They had listened to a few more as Harry read out some of the record’s liner notes.

“B,” Y/N responded, resting her chin on her crossed arms before her. It still hadn’t set in as she watched Harry struggled to remove the previous record and replace it with the new one. The way his fingers moved did something for her. She wasn’t sure if it was the sight of his bigger hands doing something her smaller ones usually did or if it was the nice contrast of his sun kissed skin to his various colored rings on each of his knuckles. Y/N hated the other odd string of thoughts that ran through her mind. All she could think of was if she had been murdered a few months previously, investigators would not have found Harry Styles’ prints in her home... What in God’s name compelled her to think such morbid thoughts? She continued to watch as Harry released the needle and sat back on his heels, listening to the first few notes of a song she remembered from her childhood.

“Groovy,” Harry commented after a few lyrics passed before he started dancing, pretty goofily if Y/N had any say in it. He had struggled to push up to his full height as he started dancing towards Y/N reaching out his hands for her to grab. She hesitated, knowing full well how dancing with this little foolish boy would affect her once again. She couldn’t help herself, though, as behind her speculative gaze there was nothing but admiration. She had reached her hand out and had been pulled from her couch to dance around her living room quiet sloppily.

“What are they saying?” Harry asked as he went to turn her.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as the two continued to listen to the song.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Eh... he’s saying how he fell in love with someone while they were dancing,” Y/N shook her head, “as much as it may seem, I’m not trying to say anything, here.”

“Shame,” Harry raised his brows before he suddenly stopped dancing with Y/N. She was left standing in the middle of her living room as she watched Harry walk over to kneel before her record player. His hands had stopped the record and taken it from the record player.

“What?” Y/N asked, furrowing her brows as she set her fists on her hips.

“S’nothing,” Harry shook his head.

“Yeah?” Y/N pressed.

“S’really nothing,” Harry sighed.

A few awkward moments passed between the two before Harry turned to peer over at Y/N, 

“Why’d you chat me up all those months ago just to go plant one on somebody else on an Instagram story?” Harry asked, the hurt showing on his somber expression.

“What?” Y/N huffed in disbelief. He must have been out of his wits drunk.

“So you’re denying it?” Harry narrowed his eyes at Y/N.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N offered, “when did this happen?”

“At that one wedding,” Harry explained. It took Y/N a moment before she remembered what Harry had perceived to be a risky moment between her and a young man.

“Are you talking about Alex?” Y/N couldn’t help the laughter that came with such a question.

“I... I don’t know. He was tall and you were dancing, and he,” Harry started before Y/N shook her head at him.

“He’s a very good friend,” Y/N stated, “nothing more.”

“Hm,” Harry still did not look convinced.

“He’s also finds men very attractive,” Y/N added.

“Ah,” Harry’s features showed his embarrassment as his tone turned slightly red, “I feel very foolish, all of a sudden.”

“Jumping to conclusions’ll do that to you,” Y/N shrugged before a pillow was thrown her way.

“You hurt my damn feelings,” Harry laughed as his hands went to cover his face.

“Why?” Y/N huffed to which Harry raised his head to look at her in bewilderment.

“I knew it,” Harry gaped.

“What?” Y/N’s brows pinched together.

“You’re an alien from Mars,” Harry nodded.

“What?” Y/N scrunched her nose at him.

“You act as if nobody has ever taken an interest in you,” Harry shook his head in bewilderment at Y/N.

“Oh, God. Well, I’m not very good at these things; if you haven’t noticed. I tend to read things wrong and make too much of things, and overcomplicate them, and then things inevitably get awkward,” Y/N suddenly stopped speaking, “I’m rambling... sorry... I’m sorry I made you feel so badly.”

“Me, too,” Harry voiced and it wasn't long before Y/N got up to pad over to where Harry had been sat to kneel in front of him. Her hands showed hesitation before they went to grab a hold of either side of his face and he couldn’t help but melt into her touch.

“Hi,” she almost seemed to whisper, her teeth going to bite at her bottom lip as she smiled at him.

“Hi,” he lowly responded, sleepily smiling back at her. Being at this proximity, Harry thought her eyes seemed to go on forever. There was a little glint to them, and he swore some film director out there somewhere was looking for someone with eyes half as breathtaking as hers.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N repeated but Harry could only shrug his shoulders in response as the scent of her perfume wafting through his nostrils. God, she smelled so nice.

“Would you mind terribly if I did something?” She continued to speak softly.

“Hey,” Harry pouted, “s’my line.”

Y/N’s smile deepened before Harry pushed forward to kiss her lips. Harry couldn’t help it as his arms went to encircle her torso, her elbows going to rest on his shoulders. Harry thought his heart would come up into her mouth, it was beating so hard and so fast. If it weren’t so creepy, he wanted so badly to open his eyes to see her in that exact moment—to see if she was just as in love with kissing his lips as he was with hers. He wanted her closer but didn’t know how to ask for more contact. With others, it had all come so naturally. With Y/N... well, she was different. All of a sudden, he didn’t want to rush things and he didn’t know how much he could take of her soft lips caressing his own.

“D’ya want this?” Harry couldn’t help but ask. All Y/N did was hum a response and Harry moved his head so that Y/N could nip down the side of his neck, sending chills down his entire being.

“Baby,” Harry mumbled into Y/N’s hair as he forced his eyes open, kissing the side of her head, “answer me?”

“What?” Y/N hesitantly pulled away.

“I mean,” Harry puffed out a sigh, “is this... are we going too fast?”

“Too fast?” Y/N’s brows raised out of confusion.

“Yeah,” Harry trailed as he tried to read her emotion.

“Uh,” Y/N laughed, “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you... or anything.”

“No,” Harry fervently shook his head as he went to rub at her bare arm, “just don’t wanna rush things.”

“I don’t,” Y/N seemed to cut off her own train of thought, “I’m sorry; if you don’t want me, that’s... fine.”

“No, I,” Harry quickly shook his head as Y/N sat on her heels, “of course I want you. I just... I don’t want... I... I tend to... rush things or... I start things too intimate at first and then a relationship follows... but you’re... I don’t know. I don’t want to start like that... at least not with you... I just... I really like you. And... I don’t wanna mess it up... You know?”

Y/N seemed to be trying to figure out whether or not she believed Harry.

“This is usually the part where,” Harry grinned after audibly gulping, “you tell me if you like me... too?”

Traces of a smile grew upon her features before she rolled her eyes, ”I mean, don’t let it go to your head.”

“I will let it go to my head,” Harry smiled as he leaned forward on his hands to extend his neck for her to kiss him, “I can feel my head expanding with it, now.”

“Harry,” Y/N pouted as her hands went to caress each side of his head.

“Y/N,” Harry reciprocated her tone.

“I kinda want to rush things,” Y/N scrunched up her nose.

“Yeah?” Harry seemed to tease, flashing another one of those grins where Y/N couldn’t discern sleep or want.

All Y/N could do was nod before pressing her lips on Harry’s, his tongue going to prod between her lips. His mouth was pleasantly warm for her. It wasn’t long before Y/N ended up on her back, Harry’s presence overwhelming her on the rug in the middle of her living room floor.

“Taste so sweet,” Harry mumbled in between Y/N’s kisses. Y/N only hummed as her fingers went to comb through the hair at the back of his neck.

“A date,” he suddenly pulled away as he looked down at Y/N’s eyelids as she recovered from the loss of contact.

“What?” She furrowed her brows.

“I want a real first date before we go any further,” Harry stated.

“Are you serious?” Y/N furrowed her brows up at him.

“Those are my terms,” Harry nodded, kissing Y/N’s nose in the process, “take ‘em or leave ‘em.”

+ + +

“How’d I look?” Y/N asked as her hands went to run over her legs once more, smoothing out the fabric of the dress Harry had sneakily watched her wiggle into earlier that afternoon from her bedroom.

“Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular,” Harry and Y/N both shared a fit of laughter, Y/N’s hand going to cover Harry’s larger one before he went to grasp at her fidgeting hands, “no, you look great, you look great. More importantly, how’d I look? I’m the one meeting your friends and family as a first date.”

“You’ve never looked bad a day in your life,” Y/N rolled her eyes as she shifted her weight onto the foot further away from Harry. The two hadn’t had much time to schedule a first date since that night the two shared in Y/N’s home. Their schedules just hadn’t matched up and Y/N decided to suggest the night of her next big soiree as a first date. Harry was reluctant; stating how much he had been wanting to “wine and dine” Y/N. The two both understood how needy the other was for intimate contact, however, and had agreed on the event as a sort of first date.

“Really know how to stroke a boy’s ego,” Harry smiled as he couldn’t help but drape his arms around Y/N’s waist. Harry liked the amount of skin that had been on display. It was a little more than he was used to and he hoped Y/N had done it with intent—with him in mind.

“Are you sure this looks okay? It’s not too tight around my butt?” Y/N craned her neck in attempt to peep a glance at her backside.

“Oh, it looks just fine,” Harry teased as his hands had slipped a little to rest hazardously above the asset they were discussing. 

“Oof, m’shaking in me knickers,” Y/N laughed as she went to peck at Harry’s lips, Harry catching another just as she leaned away at the call of her name.

“Y/N, if you’re done trying to taste your boyfriend’s stomach, Odie’s here,” Jamie called out, a grin pulling at the corners of her lips that had been painted a deep shade of purple as she looked ahead at the sight of Harry’s back and Y/N stood in front of him.

“Oh, uh,” Y/N was going to correct Jamie but was suddenly stopped at the surprising sensation of Harry’s hands squeezing her bum before patting it and rising from his seat.

“Yes, how is the old chap?” Harry wondered aloud, grabbing a hold of Y/N’s hand to lead her out of their nook, as if nothing had happened. The pair had snuck into the kitchen to greet the cook. It hadn’t been long that the two had been chatting with the elder that Harry had to excuse himself to take care of the spilled soup stain on his button up he had caused while trying to slurp Odie’s dish when he barked at someone to find them a spoon. Y/N had stayed behind, scorning Odie for his temper when the two were interrupted.

“Baby,” Greta called, and Y/N immediately recognized the voice.

“Mami!” Y/N beamed as she left Odie’s side to go envelop her mother in an embrace. “You made it!”

“Of course; I told you I would, mamas,” came Y/N’s mother’s response.

“I know,” Y/N pulled away to get a better look at her mother, “but I feel like something always comes up.”

“Well, not this time around,” Greta shook her head as her hands went to push her daughter’s hair off her shoulder, “so... where’s the new boyfriend?”

“Oh my gosh,” Y/N’s eyes seemed to pop out of her head, they bulged so much, “you cannot call him that.”

“Why not?” Y/N’s mother scrunched her nose the same way her daughter would when she was confused.

“Because we haven’t had that talk, yet,” Y/N explained.

“Odie,” Y/N’s mother furrowed her brows over to the cook her daughter had created an odd friendship with.

“I’m already planning the wedding cake, Mami,” Odie grinned.

“I can’t with you two,” Y/N laughed, shaking her head as her hand slipped to intertwine her fingers with her mother’s, “come meet him?”

“Honey, that’s a big part of why I’m here,” Greta responded, “if he thinks I’m gonna take it easy on him just because he’s a big Hollywood star, he’s got another thing coming. You are my most precious thing in this world and-”

“Mom,” Y/N laughed as she squeezed her mother’s hand, “it doesn’t have to be this serious. I don’t even know if this is going to be a long term thing. I just... we haven’t gotten to spend a lot of time together lately and he was willing to come tonight, despite having to meet my family... Can you just... be nice to him? I really like him.”

“You deserve more than you understand, mija,” Greta went to cup her daughter’s cheek, “but, fine, yes. I’ll be nice... but not too nice.”

“Oh my goodness. Odie, nos veremos?” Y/N turned to Odie, signaling their departure.

“Sim, meus amores. Go, enjoy,” Odie nodded before turning back to his kitchen, “onde está aquela colher maldita?”

They had looked in the all the different rooms of the gathering, but it took an unusually long time to find the male. When they did, Y/N and Greta could not help the laughter that ensued. In the middle of the dance floor, Harry seemed to be having the time of his life dancing with one of the elders in Y/N’s family. She was a distant aunt—twice removed or something along those lines. She was a short, little thing standing at about four feet and eleven inches. It was quite comical, the foot height difference between the two as the elder seemed to lead Harry in a few turns here and there.

“Mira tu novio, hija,” Elena called out to Y/N once she noticed her laughing off to the side, “sabe bailar.”

Harry furrowed his brows as he looked back to Y/N to see what the older woman had said.

“She says you know how to dance,” Y/N translated over the music, the end of her laughter ending in a few huffs before Harry’s gaze shifted to the woman that stood next to her. Y/N watched as he neared his lips to the elder’s ear before Elena smiled and nodded, patting his back before she urged him towards Y/N and her mother.

“Sorry,” Harry laughed as he approached the two, Elena on his arm.

“Tan amable, Y/N,” Elena gushed up at Harry, “me miro bailando sola y me invito a bailar.”

Harry’s features contorted as he glanced at Y/N for translation. All Y/N could do is pout her bottom lip at the thought of Harry asking her lone aunt to dance.

“What a gentleman,” Greta raised her brows as Elena parted from the group, giving Harry a little squeeze before excusing herself, “s’nice to meet you, Harry.”

“I would say it was nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Y/L/N, but that couldn’t be true, right? Look too young to be this one’s mum,” Harry nodded as he went to cup Y/N’s mothers palm between his own.

“Oh, my God,” Greta let out a giggle that Y/N couldn’t help but furrow her eyebrows. Y/N couldn’t believe how her mother had already started falling under Harry’s spell.

“Honestly, are you her sister?” Harry continued.

“No,” she chortled, shaking her head, “I’m the mom.”

The mom? Her mother had graduated top of her class both in high school and after completing her master’s degree... What kind of response was that? Y/N crossed her arms as she watched her mother giggle like a school girl.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me,” Harry shrugged before he went on to flatter the older woman. It wasn’t long before Harry had noticed Greta’s toe tapping to the beat of the music playing behind them and had offered his hand to take her out to dance.

“You’ll have to teach me how to dance this,” Harry explained as he glanced at Y/N, “your daughter tried showing me, but I’ve got two left feet.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Greta shook her head as she rolled her eyes at her daughter, “besides, she’s not as nice a teacher as I am.”

“What was that, mom?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, grinning at the two before her mother turned to laugh at her.

“Nothing!” Y/N’s mother snickered as Harry went to twirl the woman.

Harry had spent the better half of the evening endearing Y/N’s friends and family—her mother especially. Greta had fallen in love with the young male. She went around doting on him like she would a son. After failing to get her daughter to fix Harry a plate, she took it upon herself to retrieve food from the kitchen for him. Since then, Y/N had felt pretty unessential. It was a different feeling, to sit back and watch someone she had started developing such serious emotions for go around and enchanting the people she was so close to. She couldn’t quite pin the feeling, at first. Pretty soon, though, she felt pathetic for feeling such a way. It was odd to feel jealous of the time her loved ones had monopolized with Harry. She had blamed it on the fact that she had entered the party thinking it would be a traditional one on one date with Harry—the one he had requested to begin with. Perhaps this was why he had been hesitant to count such a gathering as a first date.

In any event, Y/N had decided it wouldn’t be such a good look for Harry to look over from the little crowd of her relations he had attracted to see her pouting at a nearby table. She had removed herself from pouting in the corner and had treaded up the stairs to step into the night San Franciscan air. She normally wasn’t like this at one of her parties. A prior longtime boyfriend had frequented these events and they never had this problem. He would sit, drink, and smoke with his group of invited friends while Y/N would habitat the dance floor with a constant group of individuals. He would usually go home earlier than she would, but they would always end up sleeping next to one another at the end of the night. She never felt jealousy towards his friends for occupying his time... She wondered why it was so different with Harry. Sure, it was a different relationship (if you could call it that) with a different person; but she didn’t think that should change the way she felt about him spending time with her people.

“Hey,” a voice from behind Y/N’s seated body had frightened her as she quickly turned to see Harry’s head poking out from the door that led to the stairwell, “what’re you doin’ up here? It’s freezing.”

“Oh, uh,” Y/N smiled as she turned back to the scene she had been staring at, “watching lights.”

“The main character, are we?” Harry teased, frowning when Y/N didn’t laugh. It had been something she liked to use as a punchline so many times before and once he had started using the phrase, she always seemed to get a big kick out of the phrase. He wasn’t sure why it had tickled her fancy so much—something about hearing him specifically saying it, she had once said.

“You feeling okay?” Harry gently inquired as his hands went to rub at Y/N’s tense neck before being shrugged off by Y/N.

“Yeah,” she replied, still not looking up from staring out in front of her.

“Okay,” Harry sighed as his fingers went to bunch up the fabric of his pants before he sat down, “that’s a lie... C’mon, what’s wrong? Tired?”

“No,” she shook her head before tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Okay,” Harry went to look at the city lights, “have I done something to offend you? Something I said?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Stop that,” Harry nudged her lip. It had been a conversation they had just had—Y/N pleading with him to help her stop her bad habit of picking at her lips with her teeth, “look, I’m no mind reader but I know there’s something bothering you... We were having such a lovely time...”

“You spent all night charming everybody’s pants off,” Y/N softly stated.

“And?” Harry shook his head, starting to become a little frustrated. He had never tried so hard to read her mind before... or anyone else’s, for that matter. There was a long pause between them before Harry’s elbow nudged Y/N’s side.

“Do you not want me? I mean, shouldn’t you be trying to charm my pants off?” Y/N huffed. Harry huffed out a breath before he shook his head, staring straight ahead. 

“What?” Y/N asked.

“Baby,” Harry huffed as he turned to face Y/N, his hands reaching out to snake under Y/N’s chin so they could gently grasp the sides of her neck, his thumbs going to push her hair from her face.

“What?” Y/N shook her head as he looked at her under those lashes she had come to be so fond of.

“I couldn’t want you any more than you could possibly know tonight,” Harry replied before his lips were on her and it seemed like a ton of bricks were lifted from Y/N’s shoulders. Harry got chills as he still hadn’t gotten used to how soft her lips were against his own. She tasted like the bubble gum she had been chewing earlier, and he wondered if there would ever be a time when he would tire of the smell of her perfume. Y/N’s hands warmed Harry’s cheeks as he helped hoist her from her seated position next to him so that she could straddle his thighs a little more comfortably. Previous times her lips had met Harry’s were tender and their almost languid. This time was a little different—it was needier and the way Harry rubbed up and down Y/N’s arms had given her goosebumps. His larger hands had slipped down to rub at the bare thighs that had poked out from her bunched up dress. She couldn't help but shiver as the harsh callouses of his fingertips ghosted up and down her skin.

“Looked so good all night, baby,” Harry mumbled between kisses, “d’you wear the tightest dress you could find on purpose? Hm? ... And how’d you know my favorite color on you was blue?”

All he got in response was a little murmur he couldn't quite make out, but he didn’t mind. He liked how she licked at his mouth too much to get huffy puffy over a response that never came. Things had escalated pretty quickly from there—he could soon feel the heat of her where he wanted her the most and he didn’t know how much he could take of their clothing being in the way. There had been one or two purposeful movements of Y/N’s hips before Harry felt Y/N’s hands start to trail between them.

“What’re you doing?” Harry feigned ignorance as Y/N could feel the smile on his lips growing. All Y/N could do was whine at his statement before Harry’s hands had to stop her own.

“As pretty as you look on me out here, can’t do this out here,” Harry shook his head as his thumb went to brush some of Y/N’s hair from between her lips before he couldn’t help but run his thumb over her lips, “least not the first time.”

“Buzzkill,” Y/N frowned before her lips opened to allow Harry’s thumb to lay on her tongue before she briskly sucked on his thumb.

“What would you say to leavin’ the party a little early,” Harry voiced as he felt Y/N’s tongue on his thumb.

“Yes, please,” came Y/N’s muffled response before Harry pulled his thumb from Y/N’s mouth.

“Let’s go say our goodbyes, then,” Harry cooed at Y/N before pressing a kiss to her nose and helping her dismount his lap.

+ + +

[A/N: For all my Latinx Harries out there. I have been working on this since about the very ending of last year and so many things in this blurb have manifested (e.g. Harry + Florence Pugh + Chris Pine working together; people knitting A LOT in lock down). I’m convinced I’m psychic. I hope you are all doing well/safe. Please, remember to wear your masks, socially distance, and treat people w/ kindness. :)}

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep 52 - Kami's avatar plan & Momotaro Dentetsu!? The aim behind the huge spread of conspiracy theories, and related Youtube videos.

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression.  Joe san, Tasai san, welcome.

K: (To Tasai) You're wearing that.

T: I really like this, I wear it to all sorts of places.

K: Really?

T: Yes. Girls tell me I'm cool when I wear it, it made me feel kinda cocky. Haha

J: You should be!

K: When I saw this (on Tasai) I didn't realise what it was, I didn't remember it. Haha, like was this really ours?

T: When I first heard about this, I heard that Kaoru had made it with great detail, haha.

K: Well, speaking of Dir en grey, we've decided to release a new single.

*applause*

K: At this point it will be in Spring.

J: I see. I can't wait for it.

K: The song will be called 'Oboro'

J: How are you progressing with it?

K: Uh, at the moment we are just starting the mixing..we are at the start of February now.

J: So, like, you can see the finish line already?

K: Hm, well....yeh. We've all finished our parts.

J: Ah, I see. The members' performances are all over.

T: Uh, at the end of year announcement, the talk about the avatars, with Kaoru playing really high up, haha.

Kami: Um...um, are you gonna make a music video for it?

K: Eh?

Kami: You will make a music video, right?

J: Oh, a music video?

Kami: Yeah. Will you make it as an avatar video?

K: Well..we havn't really thought about it yet.

Kami: I am really interested in that, I really liked that idea.

J, T: Ehhh.

K: Thank you.

Kami: I kinda want you to make another one.

K: Oh, for the new song too?

Kami: Yeah, I really want you to make one for the new song.

T: Ah, but you said you havn't thought about that this time?

K: Not at this point, no.

Kami: Why don't you let me do it?

J: Haha

K: Eh? Let Kami make it?

J: Kami, do you have any talent for that type of thing?

Kami: Well, I mean, I reckon I could do it.

T: He reckons he could?

Kami: In my own godly way...I'd like to have a go.

J, T: Ohhh.

Kami: Thats right.

K: Will it work?

T: Haha

J: Yeh, because don't they usually do this type of thing in the workshop?

K: This is a brand new development, right?

T: Yeh, Im pretty surprised too.

Kami: I understand that, but I do think it would be good...like to have it reviewed in the workshop.

T: Ahh, like he wants to raise his reputation.

J: Yeh, but its quite ???*1. Kami, do you have confidence?

Kami:Yes, I do.

J, T: Ohh.

T: He's amazing.

J: Kaoru, he said he's confident?

Kami: Um, it might turn out kinda fun style though.

T: Fun style?

K: Fun style...we don't really have that image though.

J: Right.

K: Well...I'll have to ask the other members.

T, J: Yeh.

Kami: Kaoru, you are the leader, so there's no need to do that.

K: No no no. Its precisely because Im the leader that I have to ask.

J: Haha, yeh, just telling them out of the blue that the god from your own youtube channel will be making an avatar video..they would say thats not a leader!

Kami: No, but say something skillful.

K: Well, I'll just ask them.

T: I'm sorry to say this Kaoru, but I kinda wanna see this happen.

J: Really?!

Kami: A video produced by Kami..what do you think, Joe?

J: Well, it could be scary...

T: Haha.

J: Its not really about something incredible happening, its more like what is gonna come out of the limits of this god.

K: I personally don't have any problem with it, but as for Dir en grey, thats a group decision.

J: Well, yes.

K: It depends on that.

J: So, we'll hand the issue over to you for now to get the other members' approval.

K: Yeh.

Kami: Im being quite brave here, but I also have another request. I've had another idea.

J: You are being brash, aren't you?!

T: He is asking a lot today.

Kami: I thought it might liven up the show a bit.

J: Ahh, ok, go ahead...

Kami: Should we all play Momotaro Dentetsu together?

J, K, T: Momotetsu??

T: Ah, thats a good idea, I'm all for that!

Kami: Lets do it.

T: I really like Momotetsu..

K: Everyone's playing it recently, aren't they?

T: Yeah, its really popular at the moment.

J: I'm sorry, I reacted when he said the name..but I actually don't know what Momotetsu is...

T: Well, its a board game..

K: A board game style video game.

J: Oh right. What is 'tetsu'...like trains?

K: Yes.

T: Do you know Monopoly?

J: Yes, I know that.

T: Its like a train version of Monopoly.

J: Ahh, ok. Well, lets do it! Thats ok. How would we do it?

K: Well, we can think about that later.

J: Yes, ok..but that means its a posibility?

K: Will Kami play too?

Kami: Oh, yes! Thank you!

J: He sounds so happy, haha.

T: Kami, how will you join in with the game?

Kami:.....Yeh, how will I?

J: Yes, you tell us.

Kami:....how would I? I'd have to get some one to do it for me.

K, T: Haha

J: Like a representative of Kami?

Kami: Yeah.

T: Another person that we've never met will come, right? haha. Kami won't have met them, it will be a total stranger.

J: Dubious, right?

K: Ahh, but I havn't played Momotetsu in ages.

T: Ah, in the newest version you get stronger privileges, and its like you can make deliveries freely*2

J: So we are looking towards actually doing this, for now.

K: Well, yeah, its ok. We've got the start of two new plans.

J: Yep, one is a Kami produced avatar video for the new single.

K: Its not really 'produced by' though, more like 'made by'.

T: Making it on his own

J: Yeah, he's making it on his own for us.

K: Its more reassuring that way.

J: Haha, like, not in a collaboration?

K: I approve it of that.

Kami: Im making it on my own, but I don't have any money, so I want to get the money for it from you.

K: No, I can't do that.

J, T: Hahaha

J: He said he wanted to do it himself. He asked you if he could do it! If you want to do it yourself, you have to deal with the cost yourself.

K: This show has zero production cost anyway.

J: Haha, is that right? Thats tough.

T: We finally got a decent mic stand.

K: Yeah, but its kinda been reformed.

J: The mic stand fell over before didn't it? 

K: ???*3

Kami: I don't have any money!

K: Well, it doesn't have to be that high quality.

J: Yeah.

K: He doesn't need a camera though.

J: No. So there are two conditions as for making an avatar vid: one is that Kaoru has to get the permission from the other members, and the other is that Kami has to cover the production costs himself.

*On screen note: Permission was gained from all members in the following days*)

T: Yeah. ????*4, like to show he's made it all himself.

K: Yeh, because if we paid for it, we'd have to approve the whole thing.

J: Oh, yeh, like an official check?

K: Yeah.

J: That would be a bit different. What do you think Kami?

Kami: If I make it, can I sell it?

T: Haha, 'If I make it can I sell it'??

K: No, you cannot. That is that is the biggest rule.

Kami: Oh, please let me sell it!!!

K: That totally depends on how good it is.

J: Right, you might allow it if it was outstanding.

T: Haha

K: Ok, Joe, lets look at today's topic.

J: Yes, 'A monthly income of ¥1million. Chaging tune during game commentary. What is the aim of the massive spread of conspiracy theories, and related Youtube videos?' Well, there is a lot of news surrounding the American Presidential election last year, but a huge amount of conspiracy theories and fake information is spreading even amongst Trump supporters in Japan. Within this are big ones like, 'Trump will unleash martial law, and mass arrests of traitors will begin', 'Nancy Pelosi has been arrested', etc etc. There are even theories that are circulating only in Japan, and which are spreading through Youtube videos and round up sites. Within those, there is one user who brings up such material in the middle of game commentary videos, and can make up to ¥1million per month. The posibility that they are doing it for the advertising revenue cannot be denied. Well, its like, is it ok to spread lies in return for money?... this news questions the 'freedom of expression'.

K: Well, conspiracy theories have been around for ages, havn't they?

J: They always have, yes.

K: But since covid started...there have been...like, a load of theories coming up about it, right?

J: Yeah.

K: I kinda get the sense that a lot of conspiracy  theories about covid have grown to be seen as almost the truth.

T, J: I see.

K: You don't even know whats a conspiracy theory or whats real news now.

J: Well, yeah. In relation to covid, I also don't know what is actually correct. In some sense, there are certain voices that are louder than others, and if you mix in these conspiracy theories, you get this kind of....well, like with these protests in relation to the American election, or even without that, these theories do spread.

K: You kind of watch them in a funny sense to start, but then it feels like they gradually loose power.

J, T: Yeh.

K: There are people who will end up believing them though.

Kami: Um, that game commentator who is talking about conspiracy theories in order to make a profit, I don't like that. I want him to try harder, like, don't be influenced by money.

T: No no no. Kami has been talking about money a lot, haha

J: Yeh, like, 'Can I sell it?' He's only telling other people not to be influenced by money.

Kami: Yeah, gods are influenced by money...gods are. I kinda understand how this guy feels. I can't help it.

J: You can't help it?

Kami: Yep.

J: You can't help it for money?

Kami: Yeah, I take it back, its ok to be influenced by money.

J, K, T: Hahaha

J: Kami, you're weak!

T: That was a quick turnaround.

J: I was pretty shocked that this guy can make ¥1million per month though.

K: Well, if his view count grows...

J: Yeah. 

K: Those numbers would be impossible for this show.

J: Haha, yeah, everyone please help us out with that. Even if we aimed to make ¥1million, conspiracy theories take up a lot of time, right?

T: Yeh, but how about we feature some conspiracy theories?

J: If we will get like this guy, right?

Kami: Ah, lets go with some conspiracy theories!

J, T: Haha

K: There are probably people out there really putting thought into making new conspiracy theories, aren't there?

J, T: Yeah.

K: It sounds pretty difficult. Like, what type of conspiracies would fly?

J, T: Right.

J: ???*5

K: Like Kami's?

J: Kami's conspiracy theories, haha. But it is difficult. Hm, eventually we'll have a 'Freedom of Expression conspiracy theories edition'.

T: Well, lets do more of this kind of stuff.

J: Tokyo Sports loves this kind of thing, doesn't it?

T: Yeah.

J: Do your sales go up when you feature this stuff?

T: Well, not really with conspiracy theories, but we sell at lot when we write about UFOs and stuff. People are really curious about things that are 'unknown'. They really are.

J: Hm.

K: Ok, on that note, lets finish here. Thank you very much.

*1,3,4,5 Couldn't catch/figure out

*2 I've never played Momotetsu so Im not sure if im understanding the explanation right. 

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[geekygoddesss]

The Boyfriend Tag [Calum Hood Edition]

Summary: an unfiltered interview featuring Calum Hood and his girlfriend.

Words: 4.7k

“Hello! I’m Calum Hood, from 5 seconds of summer” He greets to the camera. 

“My name is (Y/n) and I am dating this guy. Today! we are going to be answering this tag thing” I answer in a more excited tone, as I point at the camera. 

“The whole band has done it, it’s only fair I do it as well” He mentions  “We’re currently at home, where we all should be” He says, looking at the surroundings of our sweet home “...so we have more than enough time to get to this”

I smile “And here it is” 

                                                       _______

How did we first meet?

“Through friends” Calum explains shortly “it was nothing super special, sadly, she just happened to be friends with one of my friends and that’s how it happened” he shrugged. 

There was really not much to tell, Our story simply happened in a very natural way. 

“My friend invited me to LA and I met him in...If I’m not mistaken it was at a brunch party?” I explain. 

“You’d be right” he nods  “then a series of things happened and she ended up joining our team”

I smile to the camera “In case you didn’t know. I’m a music editor, I like producing and tweaking, so you could say we would see each other a lot” I shrug. 

“And things happened, went on a couple of dates, did my magic…” he added, moved his fingers in front of the camera in a funky way and finished with a “...and here we are”. 

Where was our first date?

“We went to a concert” I exclaimed, growing really excited at the memory “it was crazy, we literally started with a bang” 

“Yep and it wasn’t planned at all” he laughs, rubbing his jaw with his hand as he spoke “I originally had the plan to go with Ashton to this Chainsmokers show, we wanted to take advantage of that to talk with Drew and Alex after, but Ashton got really sick and since I had the ticket and couldn’t just let it go to waste, I asked this beauty to go with me” he said, reaching over to squish my cheek. 

I move away as an instinct, but I love it. 

“It was awesome, those guys really put up a good show” I add, smiling as I spoke “I got really drunk that night” 

Fun fact. I don’t know what came over to me the night of our first date, but for some reason, alcohol played a big part that night, it was embarrassing, but it was worth it. After all, we made a great memory out of it. 

“Tell me about it” Calum said, rolling his eyes. 

I blushed, but before he could say anything else, I swang over to him and covered his mouth “Shhh” I giggle, scotting over to his side “He kind of babysat me, sorry babe” I said, uncovering his mouth. 

“Kind of?” he asked with a sarcastic tone “Geez, I can’t even answer to that. Next question, I don’t want to tell this story” he said, shaking his head. 

I roll my eyes “Drama queen” I shrug “I got drunk and he had to take care of the rest, it was both fun and weird”. 

“Next” he states, passing on to the next question. 

What was your first impression of me?

I have to take a moment to answer this question, not because I don’t know what I like, but because I struggle remembering what exactly was that caught my attention. It only took me a few seconds to answer. 

“My first impression of you was that you were really quite but still very present in the room” I speak first “it’s hard to explain, because we literally met in the middle of a conversation but basically” I try to explain, shifting a little in my place  “I remember standing in one place and hearing stories from other people, I was completely not familiar with anything, I didn’t know any of them so everything they said was pretty much new, but you always had a fun insert to add, even though you barely spoken that was something that stood out for me a lot” I say, nodding towards him. 

“Mine was more or less the same, actually” he says, acting surprised about my answer “because you’re always very quiet when being on a crowd and that stuff, you always stand back from having too much attention” he explain. “it’s funny because, the first day I met you I remember, I greeted you and all, we didn’t really talked to each other and I didn’t hear you talk either, however, when our food delivery came in the first thing I heard you say was ‘yo, I bet you can’t sniff of this paprika’” he says, a smile growing on his face, until full giggles starting coming out of his lips. 

“Did you really had to say that on camera?” I sigh, acting annoyed, but I really wasn’t. 

“It was hilarious” he says, still laughing. 

I know this is a fact that kind of embarrass me, but watching laugh it off was completely priceless. 

When did you meet my family?

“I met your family on the day you launched your third album” I start answering the question, as soon as he finishes reading.  “it was such a big moment and you flew everyone in, it was the first time I ever got to interact with your mother and -well- everyone, as your girlfriend and not just a friend” I explain “also it was the first time I stayed over at your place for more than two nights”

“It was a extended pijama party” he mention, nodding at the camera with a serious look “no, uh, there’s a reason behind all that. When it came to this situations, I very much preferred for her to stay at mines while my family was in there than to have her alone at her apartment, so I took the chance” He shrugged, reaching over to pat my tight. “It was fun!” 

“It was very fun” I nod agreeing “I love how your mom takes the lead in the kitchen and no matter what you say, she is the one in charge” I laugh, remembering all those discussion for who was the first cooking dinner at the house.

“Mom doesn’t love my cooking” Calum admits with a sigh. 

I nod “I don’t know why, if I’m honest”  I add“She makes some exceptional fish and chips though, it’s just...” 

I have to close my eyes to add some drama into all these. I loved food, and that was definitely one of the best meals I’ve had in a long time. I knew Cal’s mom loved to cook, and it was an honour for me to try her meals, they were heaven on earth.

“Yeah I know” he chuckles “How did I meet yours?” he asks to himself and sighs  “I didn’t”

My jaw tenses a little, I don’t know how I didn’t see this coming but I didn’t care at all. 

“I’m an orphan, don’t cry for me, I’m fine, I don’t need to talk about it” I state, moving over to his side and hugging him “you are my family”

He smiles softly at me. “Yes I am, baby” he says kissing my forehead. “Next” 

Who said “I love you” first?

“Eh...I did” I admit, with a shy smile on my face “guilty” I add, raising my hand. 

“She did” he seconds, pointing at him. “it was adorable”

That phrase made me cringe for some reason. Not that I denied it wasn’t adorable, it was just some awkward moment that I came out of me and I still feel unsure of. I am not often the one who speaks up, so doing this was pretty ballsy. 

“Was it?” I ask, unsure “It was too soon, I dont know...”

“It was alright, really” he says, shaking his head and going over to rub on my arm a little “we were having one of our famous, drink and watch, where we watch movies and every time something specific happens, we drink a shot” he starts telling the story, also making the fun add on of our usual date nights. 

“And I was like, woooh woooh” I say, trying to imitate that very moment. I lean over him, and leaning my head too close to his, I press my head on his cheek and whisper “I loaf you, Cayum” making it coming out as a loud muffled sound. 

“God dammit” he giggles moving away just a little “I mean, it did sound like that, but it was cute and I said it back” he says, rounding his arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer.

“At first I felt weird because I thought I shouldn’t have said it right there at that moment, but if I’m honest” I add “I was fine” 

“We were fine” he continues, leaning in to kiss my temple “more than fine”

What dressing do I always wear?

I look at him up and down.  It’s kind of funny, because with this whole situation, we both happen to be in our pajamas, so our dressing code has been turned around for the moment. My vision of what he could be wearing on the daily has been distorted. 

“Pfff” I sigh “I don’t know, I really don’t” I confess. “You are very weird with fashion, I must say, I don’t think you often wear the same thing” I say, looking over at him. 

“I sure do, I can think of a couple things” He says, smiling at me with a teasing smile, silently encouraging me to think. 

“Well, you do wear hoodies often, at home mostly” I say, being the first thing I can think of

“Like this one, actually, it’s like your morning hoodie” I giggle, reaching over to tug on the hood. 

He was wearing that very soft white hoodie he would reach over to every morning, if there was a little bit of a breeze out there. She loved it, it was a nice piece of clothing to hug him in. 

“There you go, see?” He chuckles, shaking his head  “Mine is easy because every day of your life you wear socks that reach your ankles and beyond” He smiles, looking down at my feet and staring at my socks. 

“Ding ding ding!” I celebrate, smiling at him “You are so right!” I laugh.

He nods, he knows he was right. 

“Show the public, please” he suggests, giving me the honours.

“I have pineapples today” I say, lifting my foot as much as I can and holding it up to the camera. “Yesterday I had dogs and I have all kind of patterns, I love collecting socks” I smile, looking down at the pretty pattern and admiring it. 

“It’s a fun thing to collect, I like it a lot actually” He admits, staring at it too “Do you have your 5SOS socks already?” he asks, as I lower my leg to its previous position. 

I roll my eyes “Oh, shut it” I groan, he breaks to laugh and he knows why.  “you didn’t let me design socks for your merch, now I don’t want anything” I say, scooting away from him

“Right” he laughs, shaking his head and laughing “Next question”. 

Weird habit of each other?

“I know one of yours” he says before I can even answer. He turns to me, looking at me with a mysterious smile. “I’m going to leave it at your choice, should I tell or should I not?” 

I look at him with the same look he gives to me, trying to see in him what he had in mind. I might have some weird habits, I was just hoping he wouldn’t pull out the worst. 

“Shoot”  I say, glaring at him. 

“Everything you do, you find a way to relate it to a meme” he says, looking straight at me and laughing as he speaks “I don’t even know how you do it, you just do” 

“Oh man! that’s not that bad, but I wasn’t expecting that at all” I laugh as well, finding it kind of funny that we went in with this one “I don’t think you have a bad habit, but, if I must say one, I would say your silence” I say slowly, not really sure if that even count. “you are one quite soul, Cal” I add, bumping our shoulders together 

“Am I?” He says, raising an eyebrow up as he spoke. 

I nod  “It’s like, sometimes  I ask you something and you just do this” I explain, resting my head over my chin and looking straight at him, saying nothing but still saying much. “I’m not a mind reader, pal” I mumble, still looking at him. 

He leans over and touches my forehead with his, looking at me straight in the eyes and mumbling.  “You should know what it means” 

I roll my eyes. “Uh huh” 

He would never admit his silence was weird, but that’s okay, it was something of him that I really liked.

How long have we been together?

“Almost two years” Calum says, his voice sounding sort of surprised as he spoke. 

“It doesn’t feel like two years, how scary” I add, leaning my head on his shoulder “I feel like time really flies lately, these past two years between working with you, having all these changes and moving to this city, I felt like it’s only been a couple months” I mention, reflecting about all of the little things that have led us to this moment. 

“That happens when you’re having fun baby” 

I smile, bumping my shoulder to his “It’s been the best two years, I hope you know that” 

What was our first road trip?

“Here’s the thing” he says, taking the lead “We often do small road trips to little parts of the city, so I would dare to say our first road trip together was... Mexico?” he says, looking at me in doubt. 

“I think so, I’m not sure” I say, thinking about it as well. “but I think our most special trip was not even a road trip, it was a full on trip, remember?”

He frowns a little, turning to look at me looking for more clues. I didn’t gave more information away, if he knows, he knows. 

“Which one?” He asks, still thinking about it.

“The first trip we did together, we were around 8 months, I would say” I say, still maintaining the mystery, until I decided to drop it.  “We went to Australia, made a stop for three days and then New Zealand” I explain. 

“Oh that’s right! yeah, you are right” he nods energetically at my answer. “We went visiting my family and exploring, it was a whole deal” he explain, now with a smile on his face. 

“I think that even counts as a road trip, we used your uncle’s jeep, visited some awesome places” I say, smiling as well “I loved it, I always wanted to go to Auckland and having the chance of exploring the city was the best thing ever” 

He nods, agreeing with me. That particular trip was the first trip we ever did together as a couple and it was worth every second. 

“I had fun too, it was a very special time” He agrees. “Fun fact, a song came out of that trip, and you would never guess which one, but if you do, let me know and I might tell a story” He states, pointing at the camera, and looking at it with a completely serious look. 

“Please do, guess” I chuckle at that statement “That story is going to fuck me up”

First thing you noticed about me?

“Now this is a question I like a lot” Calum states, sitting up straight and getting excited about his answer “Here’s the thing, the first time I met you was on this brunch thing and it was... a private event” he starts “it was interesting because in this event they had like a whole dancing thing, musicians, a DJ... the thing is, there was a particular moment of the event where they were playing jazz and the way she lost it while listening to that... that was priceless” he noticed, smiling at me “the way you lose yourself with music it’s something I won’t ever get tired of” he said in honest words. 

That statement made my heart warm up. Those were one of the most adorable things he had ever said to me. 

“Thank you” I said, with a hand on my chest. “The first thing I noticed about you is how good you are with words” I said, as part of my answer “I think some people, especially guys, sometimes come out as assholes when they want to cause a good impression, but surprisingly, he was the first guy who when he first came up to me, I felt comfortable” I shrug, looking at the camera and smiling softly. 

There was really not much to say, I felt like my answer said a lot. 

Calum smiled softly at me and reached my place, and while he caught me in his arms he mumbled “Come here”. 

And then we fall onto the floor, as we washes me in kisses. 

Tell us a fun fact about you

We both stare blankly at different points as we think of an answer. It should be easier than this, but for some reason, it is being more difficult than we thought to come up with a good answer to fill in this question. We could say so many things, but none of them would be the most appropriate one for this. 

“Fun fact” I start, after our moment of silence “the first time we kissed, very first time, I was really drunk, but I would say, it wasn’t that noticeable or at least that’s what I thought”

I see Calum notices what I am saying right away, because once I start my story, his face goes from a frown to a surprised expression very quickly. Suddenly everything taking a bit of sense for him. 

“I know where you’re going” he says, shaking his head. 

“He asked me how it felt, like the kiss, how I felt about it” I continue  “and I said ‘Ew’” 

I wish I could help it, but everytime I tell a story like this, I can’t help but breaking to laugh, without having enough control over myself. I almost have to lay back, because I am laughing so much I can hardly sit still, but I don’t do that, I just hold on to my boyfriend and do my thing. I was such a fun story, the embarrassing part of it worn off completely by how funny it was. 

“That was the most discouraging moment of my life” He explains, joining as well into my little laughing fit and shaking his head.

“I know, I’m sorry” I said, cleaning a small tear off my eye “I didn’t mean it! I was drunk, plus, I think I say ew and ouch out of its context more times that I could count” I mention.

“Now, that is very true” he says, laughing as well as he turns his look back at the camera and mumbles “Next question”

Tell us a secret 

“No” Calum says. 

So we move on to the next question. 

What am I good at?

“She’s excellent at cooking the best things in the worst times” Calum explains as soon as he’s given the chance “and what I mean by this is that, most of the time when there’s a storm or, just like a month ago, we were confined and she would do deserts like everyday, It was so good I would forget for a second about what was surrounding me” He admitted, looking at me for a second before going back at the camera. 

“I’m glad you like it”  I smile, suddenly feeling very excited. “I do instagram lives every time I cook, It’s a lot of fun” I add.

He nods “You see me in the back, like, ‘what’s that white spongy thing?’” he mentions, making a weird voice just for laughs. 

I giggle. “What’s that white dust on the table?”  I follow, completely being aware of the double-sense. 

“Is that mint? Or cilantro?” He adds. 

“Oh geez” I laugh, at that last one. “People roast me in the comments all the time, because I make stuff like, burritos, or maybe chicken teriyaki, and then you come over and can’t eat anything” I roll my eyes, shaking my head at the camera. 

He presses his lips together at my mention and nods. 

“I don’t eat meat” he mentions, shrugging “but I don’t mind at all, I don’t care if you eat meat”

I nod “I always prepare like one ratio and leave some for if you wanna try, but…” I shrug “I wouldn’t tease you into it”

“I know babe” He says, going to reach my cheek and pinch it. 

 I move away from his touch as I say “I’m not even going to answer this so… next!” 

Favorite feature about each other?

“His face is the stretchiest ever” I say with excitement in my voice. 

Without a doubt, I get up and walk right behind him, because I just need to do something. It's a necessity, this is something I do on the daily, showing the public was something I wanted to do so badly. 

“Look at this” I said, placing my hands on his cheeks and squishing them…stretching… squishing… stretching… squishing… I had so much fun. 

“I have so much fun doing this, it’s like playdough in my hands” I say, caressing my boyfriends face. 

“Okay, alright” he laughs, taking my hands away from his face. “My favourite thing is this” he says, still holding onto my hands and suddenly tugging on them hard. 

Before I even noticed, he was grabbing both of my arms together, and with great skill, he pulled my whole body over his shoulders, and as he got up from his seat and walked back. 

“What?!” I yelled loudly “Put me down!” 

He does as I said, and as he walked to the back of the room, he let me down right beside him. 

“She’s so tiny” he laughed, ruffling my hair playfully “I can carry her in my bag” 

I rolled my eyes “No, I’m not” I whined “Stop” 

He laughed again, and as he lifted his arm, and rested his elbow on my head.  “See this (Y/n) to Calum ratio” he mocks “I’m half a person” 

“Perfect size” I giggle, pushing him aside playfully. “Now that you’ve exposed my height, can we keep going please?” I say, almost begging. 

If we kept going with this, I could easily turn from funny to not so funny anymore. 

What do we argue about the most? 

Once again, we stay quiet for a good second, but not because we don’t know, it’s because there was really not an specific answer we could give. I don’t we even knew what to say. 

“I would say, the majority of times, we argue for the most dumb things you could imagine” I say, answering for the both of us  “But about serious things, it’s something very rare” I shrug. 

“I think our trending topic when discussing about something, it’s about me misspelling words when writing, and her losing it” he says, pointing at us and totally throwing me a look. 

“Dude” I sigh “Because then people will read and take it the wrong way, not cool” I argue. 

“It doesn’t matter, you just explain” he shrugs, completely not caring. 

“You need to listen, that’s what you need to do” I roll my eyes  “Read a book, punk” I let out. 

His eyes widen at my answer. “Oh is that it?” He says looking at me directly. 

I crack a smile, going to hug him, before he thought I was serious about this. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding” I let him know. 

I would never tell him something like that on purpose.

Nicknames for each other?

I sigh. “Sadly, I don’t have anything other than Cal, and all the regular sappy nicknames” I shrug  “I know I’m terrible, sue me, I don’t care” 

I speak honestly, all super creative nicknames were over thought and they could be weird sometimes. I was too classy to use anything overly new. 

“That’s mean, because I do have a couple of names for you” he mentions “Sweetie pie, Baby… The others I can’t reveal” he says slowly, patting my thigh with his hand. 

my nose scrunches “Why?” I ask. 

“They’re very confidential, you should know that”  he says, shaking his head. 

I shrug. “If I’m honest, I don’t know” I giggle “But I’ll keep the secret if that’s what you want”

He smiles, and leaving kiss on my cheek, we move on to the next question. 

Complete this sentence “You’re my……..”?

“Oh, this is the famous question” he says after reading the question out loud. A smile cracking on his face as he looked at me. 

“Was there a famous question?” I asked, raising my eyebrow. 

“All the guys were talking about this one, I’m sure you guys are enjoying this” he smiled at the camera and pointing at It. “Luke’s girl cried” he mentioned to me. 

My eyes widen “Did she?” I say, my mouth forming a pout “Oh man, I haven’t seen that” I sigh “You first”

He nods, already knowing that he would be the one taking the lead first.

“You are my saviour” he says, going to grab my hand. “I know it might sound sappy and you hate it, but it’s the truth. Before you I was a lonely guy, even when I had friends, I still felt pretty lonely, and I really appreciate the fact that I found someone who I can talk to, share moments… someone who I can lean on, It’s something that really gets me thinking… If it wasn’t for you, I would be sad” he says, pressing his lips together as he looked at me. 

“Really?” I asked in a whisper. He nods. “Cal…”

I wish I could keep it together, but hearing him say something like this… I’m front of a camera. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, we’ve been in these kinds of situations before, but right now, it felt different, and it felt special. 

“No, baby, don’t” he chuckles when sees my eyes starting to Glow. “See?” He tells the camera with a smile. 

“I don’t even know what to say…” I sigh, shaking my head “You’re my partner” I say smiling. “Probably sounds weird, because it’s obvious, but I mean it, you’re my best friend, I love spending time with you, I always look forward to be with you and have you by my side, I can tell you everything and I trust you more than anyone, I think being with you is without a doubt, the best decision I have ever taken in my life” I admit. 

The grin on his face is a real one, and once I finish with my words, he gives a squeeze to my hands, and leaves a kiss in both of them. 

“Come here, baby” he whispers, pulling my into his arms. “I love you, I love you, I love you” he says, kissing my cheek a lot. 

“You’re squishing me” I laugh “I love you so much, a million times, more than you do” 

And more than he could imagine…

                                                    _____

“So, this was our version of the girlfriend and boyfriend tag, I hope you enjoyed” I say first, as I smiled to the camera. 

“We also hope this brought you enough entertainment during this time, we for sure had a good time doing it” He continues for me, waving at the camera. “Until the next time, and remember to stay safe, bye!”

With this, we both lift our hands, and wave energetically at the camera, we turn of the camera, and our version of this tag was completed. 

It was a wrap!.

[bobbystompy]

My Top 88 Songs Of 2020

Previously: 2019, 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015, 2014, 2013, 2012, 2011

Though we couldn’t get as trim as last year’s 75, still very happy to keep this under 100 for the second year in a row. This was a very difficult year in many ways, but music helped make it more bearable.

As always, criteria and info:

This is a list of what I personally like, not ones I’m saying are the “best” from the year; more subjective than objective

No artist is featured more than once

If it comes down to choosing between two songs, I try to give more weight to a single or featured track

Each song on the list is linked in the title if you wanna check them out for yourself; there is also a Spotify playlist at the bottom that includes the majority of the songs

Usually a pump up video goes here, but 2020 had a different energy, so Michael, take us in.

88) Katy Perry - “Smile”

Even Katy Perry’s good songs are a swirling spiral of maxed out auto-tune. This one is just fine. It’s... fine.

87) All Time Low - “Trouble Is...”

Is All Time Low the Katy Perry of pop punk?

86) Tee Grizzley f/ Payroll Giovanni - “Payroll”

I have never heard of Payroll Giovanni, but I have two questions:

1) Is this his song, and he got Tee to jump on it?

2) Or, did Tee write a song called “Payroll” and think to himself “You know who would be great on this? Payroll Giovanni!”

Favorite stretch:

Listen, we is not the same, you say "door", I say "dough" You say "floor", I say "flow", you say "for sure", I say "fa'sho"

85) Lady Gaga & Ariana Grande - “Rain On Me”

Coming out in 2020 probably hurt this song, because I have no, like, out of the house memories with it. You can only have so much fun with Big Singers Singing over a pulsing beat when it’s coming from the phone in your kitchen as you’re indifferently scrambling eggs.

84) Benjamin Gibbard - “Life In Quarantine”

Now this is a song you can do nothing to; almost feels like it’s reluctant to even exist. It got released in March of 2020, so the outro (“No one is going anywhere soon”) served as a too sad reminder/mantra for what the year was about to be. Second shout out to Gibbard for the many YouTube sets he put together during the early stages of the pandemic (when so many of his peers were trying to figure out the next move).

83) Cardi B f/ Megan Thee Stallion - “WAP”

This felt less like a song and more of a “whoa, did you see the music video?!” and/or a means to relitigate the eternal question “What is the sexual line in music?” And while it was fun to watch people freak the fuck out... the quality itself really needed to be better.

(Note: YouTube video is the edited chorus; explicit version here)

82) McKayla Maroney - “Wake Up Call”

Former Olympic gymnast McKayla Maroney -- of medals and memes fame -- dips her toe into the music waters. It’s inside-the-box modern pop music. One thing that’s hard to escape: it doesn’t really sound like her.

81) Chelsea Cutler - “Sad Tonight”

He vocals really remind me of Alessia Cara.

80) blink-182 - “Quarantine”

Blink doing a Bad Religion impression. Docked a few points for the very weak chorus lyrics (“Quarantine, fuck this disease”). That said, as serious as the song comes off, there are some clever punchlines to be found.

79) Dave Hause & Brian Fallon - “Long Ride Home”

This is kind of a nothing song, but it’s easy listening. Also, if your guitar leads can’t clear the “Could Bobby have written or performed this?” bar, then said leads are probably pretty weak.

78) Travis Scott & Kid Cudi - “THE SCOTTS”

Two artists who pair so well together, it’s hard to tell who exudes more influence on the track (eh, that’s not true, it’s Travis Scott, but Kid Cudi is more of a roommate than guest). They want you to be high by the time the instrumental outro hits.

77) The Strokes - “Bad Decisions”

The beginning sound feels somewhat evolved, but by the time Julian Casablancas croons “Making bad decisions”, the song feels like it could be on their debut album “Is This It?”. And it goes in and out like that from there.

76) Thundercat - “Dragonball Durag”

Thundercat is one of those artists I wish I liked more, but when the occasional track does hit, it’s a momentary glimpse into what real fans seem to always see.

75) TI f/ Lil Baby - “Pardon”

Standard fare. Lil Baby’s cameo is very meh.

74) Porches - “Do U Wanna”

For a song that repeatedly asks “Do you want to dance?”, it sure makes you feel like you’re moving in slow motion.

73) NOFX - “Thatcher Fucked The Kids” 

On the best-named album of the year (“West Coast vs. Wessex”), Frank Turner and NOFX cover each other’s material. To start us off, the legends take a song from 12 years ago about British politics from 40 years ago and, well, very easily apply it to right god damn now in America.

72) The Bombpops - “Dearly Departed”

Ahh, my year’s first cancelled concert. The listed names in V1 always make me want to skip this song -- but patience, grasshopper. Chorus is aight.

71) Ratboys - “Alien With A Sleep Mask On”

This band name will never match what the music sounds like.

70) Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever - “She’s There”

The vocals in this song channel, like, four completely different singers for me, ranging from Bob Dylan to Cloud Nothings.

69) NOBRO - “Don’t Die”

An anthemic chorus meant to be belted in a room with sweaty strangers.

68) Oliver Tree f/ blink-182 - “Let Me Down”

The original solo version of this song is 1:52, and though the blink cameo pushes it over the dreaded two minute mark, it adds enough diversity to justify the choice (keep an eye out for the quick Green Day lyrical nod in the back half).

67) AJJ - “Normalization Blues”

This dropped in January, and if you thought the year was bad then. Punk News:

I'll admit I do want the album to age badly because I really don't want to have to listen to it years later and still say this is the world we're living in.

Said album being titled “Good Luck Everybody” is straight cryptic.

66) Selena Gomez - “Rare”

Very chill for big pop; triplet rhythm singing in the chorus gets me erry time.

65) Kid Cudi & Eminem - “The Adventures Of Moon Man & Slim Shady”

Cudi’s second split collab yields bigger results than his Travis Scott joint (admittedly with a worse beat here). It rarely ever hurts to let Eminem do the heavy lifting.

64) Alkaline Trio - “Smokestack”

A little cheerier than the average Alk3 song, but Dan Andriano seems like he’s been in a great place for a long time now; confident and in control. For me, the whole song builds up to the “You changed my life” chorus.

63) Frank Turner - “Scavenger Type”

Here, Frank takes on the acoustic closer to NOFX’s legendary 1994 album “Punk In Drublic”. Though the energy boost is most noticeable, my favorite part is how you can hear how much Turner loves this song as his melody bursts on the verses.

62) Mike Posner - “Alone In A Mansion”

Mike Posner, an artist I have a very soft spot for, released a storytelling concept album in 2020. From the intro track:

This album was written, recorded, and produced over a period of two weeks in Detroit, Michigan in my parents' basement. It's meant to be listened to all the way through. At least on the first listen. And it's about 36 minutes long. If you can't devote 36 minutes of undivided attention to this album, I again politely ask that you turn it off and return at a later time. I love you and I thank you for taking the time to listen in the first place. Also, it's important to note that the characters and the stories in this album are completely fictional. In addition, anyone struggling with a mental illness - depression, schizophrenia - should not listen to this album. Turn it off.

So those are the stakes. Pulling this song -- the record’s closer -- feels unfair void of context, but them’s the breaks.

61) Nada Surf - “Just Wait”

Heavy hitting chorus without having to be heavy; this could really work in a movie.

60) Matt Pond PA - “Wild Heart”

This having only 805 views on YouTube is criminal.

59) Liquid Death - “Unnecessary And Unimpressive”

Liquid Death -- in this iteration -- is a punk rock supergroup with members of Rise Against, Anti-Flag, The Lawrence Arms, and The Bombpops. If that didn’t interest you enough, all lyrics in the project (which, I believe, is for charity) come from hateful comments or negative reviews. Of the four artists involved, this sounds most like a Bombpops song, with Jen on lead vocals as others chime in.

58) PUP - “Rot”

Off my silver medalist for album name of the year (“This Place Sucks Ass”), PUP doesn’t do anything new here, but it was relieving to see them still going in 2020 when so many others got roadblocked, both physically and creatively.

57) Paul Harrold and the Nuclear Bandits - “Massanutten”

This reminds me of local Chicago artist Al Scorch. So much earnestness in the vocals, but a little more prairie for Harrold compared to speakeasy for Scorch. This would be a good road trip song. And I’m not talking about singalong... more for the stretch where you want to sit in silence and look out at the sun-kissed land blazing by. The song’s greatest victory is getting me to like something that cracks 6:00.

Note to future me: Massanutten is in Virginia (saved you a Google).

56) Kesha f/ Sturgill Simpson, Brian Wilson & Wrabel - “Resentment”

Kesha has been vulnerable in the past but never this stripped down sonically; the chorus would feel right at home on a country radio station. Love a good bridge, too.

55) Megan Thee Stallion f/ Beyoncé - “Savage (Remix)”

An up-and-comer pairing with a legend rarely lets down when both sides are this locked in. Bey wins. Fav line: “If you don't jump to put jeans on, baby, you don't feel my pain”.

She matches flows with Megan but also brings melody. Her blessing takes this song from pretty damn good to undeniably great.

That beat, too.

54) Red City Radio - “Baby Of The Year”

If all you want to do right now is grab a drink in a bar, here is a video built to troll.

(Also: a Liquid Death cameo?!)

53) Nathaniel Rateliff - “And It’s Still Alright”

The last time Mr. Rateliff had our attention, he just wanted a drink. That hit had a chorus with the very-sad-when-removed-from-the-song “If I can't get clean, I'm gonna drink my life away” lyric. Well, our man got sober since. And when the party is over, the introspection comes.

52) Direct Hit! - “HAVE YOU SEEN IT?”

Listening to slowed down Direct Hit! is like watching Usain Bolt lightly jog. It kinda makes sense because the core action is there, but it also feels sort of incorrect.

51) Hayley Williams - “Dead Horse”

Solo Hayley songs have this feel like they could do anything at any time... but then don’t. This one does the same until a very fun chorus breaks it up.

50) Kid Cudi f/ Phoebe Bridgers - “Lovin’ Me”

Probably the most improbable collab on this list (if 2020 hadn’t repeatedly taught us to not be surprised by anything).

49) The Homeless Gospel Choir - “Don’t Compare”

Listening to The Homeless Gospel Choir is kind of like getting a dedicated pep talk from a good friend... while fire rains down from the sky.

48) Carly Rae Jepsen - “Let’s Sort The Whole Thing Out”

Queen vocals with one prince of a tempo; this chorus is Sour Patch Kids riding Twix logs down a soda pop waterfall -- and it’s a b-side.

47) Green Day - “Meet Me On The Roof”

I like this song because it reminds me of summer and because it doesn’t really sound like Green Day (but still totally does).

46) Broadway Calls - “Meet Me On The Moon”

Promise -- swear -- I was gonna compare this Broadway Calls song to Green Day before realizing they both had titles about meeting in an escalated location. That said, I did put them next together on purpose to more coherently make this point.

45) David Rokos - “Building Bridges”

My buddy Dave wrote this song, and I think I’ve asked him three times what “burning sugar” meant (he says it’s a reference to absinthe). This song will make you want to travel to enjoy not only the places but the people around you.

44) Charli XCX - “claws”

Charli XCX keeps it futuristic in a video that could be described as sexy, cheesy, goofy, and playful-yet-serious.

43) Brian Fallon - “Lonely For You Only”

This is too easy and should not work (and maybe doesn’t). But that chorus... that circular phrasing... it still takes me all the way out. But I’m the same cat who proposed while a Gaslight Anthem cover was playing.

42) Waxahatchee - “Fire”

This song could be in a different language and hit just as hard.

41) Harry Styles - “Adore You”

Purifying pop.

40) Local H - “Hold That Thought”

Hardest rock song thus far. Local H was one of the first artists to play “live” once the lockdown hit (on a simultaneous YouTube/Facebook stream), and watching them attack music in their Chicago practice bunker felt a little bit like taking in the end of the world. New songs, old songs, covers -- it didn’t matter; their cool, unmatched apathy fits a pandemic or peacetime.

Ironically, was able to see them live in 2020, as they played a socially distanced, outdoor drive up concert in a minor league baseball parking lot. It wasn’t the same, but it was still something.

39) Crazy & The Brains - “I Don’t Deliver Pizza Anymore”

This song is just cool*. The verses feel tense and crucial, it starts to unspool in the pre-chorus, and the chorus itself feels like a light comedown more than anything else.

(* -  though the lyric video is docked some points for spelling y’all as “ya’ll”)

38) Drake f/ Fivio Foreign & Sosa Geek - “Demons”

Menacing Drizzy can be very fun from time to time. Also more than happy to keep “Toosie Slide” very far away from this list.

37) Hey Dad!!! - “Life’s Alright”

Small band, big song; though summer feels light-years away.

36) insignificant other - “i’m so glad i feel this way about you”

This song lands a big haymaker in the first few seconds, so it was probably a good call to pull back some for the chorus and, eventually, outro.

35) BTS - “Dynamite”

Heard they made the lyrics bad on purpose for their English hit, which makes sense, because they’re bad. That said, if you listen knowing they’re supposed to be bad, it kinda makes them... good? Listen, 771 million views would have me singing nursery rhymes in Pig Latin.

34) DaBaby f/ RODDY RICCH - “ROCKSTAR”

Someone said this could be the song of the summer, but, because there wasn’t really a summer, I feel like I only heard it once all year. Also, are we really pretending Post Malone* didn’t just do a “like a rockstar” song three years ago?

(* - and N.E.R.D. before that and Cypress Hill before that... though N.E.R.D. only waiting a year after Cypress, so maybe DaBaby actually was patient)

33) The Front Bottoms - “the hard way”

Don’t take it easy on the animal / I am the animal

Not quite sure what this line means, but I fixate on the phrasing every single time. This song sounds resigned in a very self-aware way.

32) The 1975 - “If You’re Too Shy (Let Me Know)”

For a band called The 1975, they sure sound like they’re on their ‘80s shit here. Also, a real thing that happened:

Me: Is he coercing her to get naked?! I thought this band was woke.

/scans lyrics

/notices “She said” before the “Maybe I would like you better if you took off your clothes” line

Me: Ahh.

Sax solo, take us out.

31) Charly Bliss & PUP - “It’s Christmas And I Fucking Miss You”

A song that is already a forever staple on all my future Xmas playlists.

30) 2 Chainz f/ Ty Dolla $ign & Lil Duval - “Can’t Go For That”

Shorty said she love me / I said “I love me back”

This is a real genre blur; rap at its core, but also soulful, funky, and very danceable. Damn creative.

29) Billie Eilish - “Therefore I Am”

Billie's 2020 gave a few singles -- but no new album -- and a body shaming scandal where the backlash to the backlash probably caused more headlines than the tweet that started it all. Still, she stays on cruise control above the clouds; can all eyes be on you if they can’t even make you out?

Video for this is fun, too. Not sure if her running amok in an empty mall is more of a COVID necessity or commentary on the dying retail industry. As always with her, fill in your own blanks for now.

28) Future f/ Drake - “Life Is Good”

This was my most listened to rap song in the first half of the year, and bumping again now, almost forgot how good it is. Drake just chasing one-liner Instagram captions in the first half:

- “Haven’t done my taxes, I’m too turnt up”

- “N****s caught me slipping once, OK, so what?”

- “B****, this is fame not clout, I don’t even know what that’s about”

And, of course, “Workin’ on the weekend like usual”. The man could make anything glamorous. Let’s hit that H&R Block, bro!

Future’s back half is a totally different song and feels mostly like noise, but the vibe is cool, so I don’t even totally mean that in a bad way. You can even make out a “Got Promethazine in my blood and Percocet” lyric to mark your Future bingo card and immediately move on.

27) I’m Glad It’s You - “The Silver Cord”

This song feels like cold air blowing on the back of your neck.

(Sidebar: thought this band was called The Silver Cord until literally right now)

26) The Spill Canvas - “Mercy”

A dreamy, distorted, at-home version of whatever you remember The Spill Canvas sounding like. This song is confessional and at peace, with the Grade A self-loathing we’ve come to love from this band.

25) 100 gecs f/ Charli XCX, Rico Nasty & Kero Kero Bonito - “ringtone (remix)”

100 gecs first hit my radar with the explosively obnoxious “money machine”, but that’s a 2019er, so this remix to “ringtone” will have to do. It’s catchy like a younger sibling persistently singing a song you’re sick of hearing*.

(* - /only child trying to work in sibling analogies)

24) iann dior f/ Machine Gun Kelly & Travis Barker - “Sick And Tired”

Iann Dior -- ...yeah -- channels Juice WRLD on the hook, and MGK/Travis Barker buoy a track that, honestly, doesn’t really even need the help.

23) Nick Lutsko - “Unleash Your Spirit”

Lutsko hit my radar on Twitter with some legendary political anthems (word to the RNC and Dan Bongino + his Dashboard Trump parody). “Unleash Your Spirit” is the song I most fear hearing (or even thinking of) within a few minutes of going to bed. Not because it’s Halloween theme is scary -- because it’s that god damn catchy. It permeates your brain. True story: a week ago, I woke up in the middle of the night with “Bobbing for apples with the boys” so ingrained in my head, it felt like someone was standing there yelling it through a megaphone.

22) Dogleg - “Kawasaki Backflip”

Bad 2020 robbed many concerts from us, and not getting to see this band live might take the cake. I end the year liking them but could have been *all in* with the right performance and the right venue. Also, Song Title of the Year until further notice.

21) Eminem f/ Juice WRLD - “Godzilla”

Eminem has all of the words and all of the lyrical dexterity, but sometimes it feels like there isn’t anything to ground him. Enter: one of the best beats he’s ever spit on and a Juice WRLD hook to give it pop angle. But let’s not put Slim in the corner -- when he starts accelerating at the end, it’s is a true “holy fuck” moment. It sounds faster than if you actually fast forwarded.

The video ends with a touching audio message from Juice WRLD.

20) Soccer Mommy - “circle the drain”

This song is so gloriously ‘90s; it leans in and does not care.

19) Sam Russo - “Always Lost”

The first time I met you, we were on the last bus You passed me a bottle, and I knew you were one of us

Took 25 words to hook me; I was txting friends before the first chorus even hit.

18) Sincere Engineer - “Trust Me”

Deanna Belos pushes her vocals in this one. I asked about the performance, and she said it was one of the first ones they recorded in the studio, but when they were done and listening back to everything, she re-did this track because her throat was much more used to what the song required.

“That’s why it sounds like I’m on roids lol,” she added.

17) Jay Electronica f/ JAY-Z - “Flux Capacitor”

Jay Electronica signed to Roc Nation in November of 2010. At of the start of 2020, he had still -- STILL HOW FUCKING STILL -- not released a debut album. When he announced it was finally dropping in February, it was met with skeptic eyes. He’d “announced” before. Shit, he’d even posted track lists of albums that never saw the light of day. He was a tease’s tease. It ended up getting a release date of March 12. As the pandemic got really bad in the March 11 zone, he finally had an actual reason to delay the proceedings (the plan: a studio live stream listening party*).

But no -- this is Jay Electronica. Why wouldn’t he drop as the world was ending? The same reason why his costar wouldn’t not have a watch like a Saudi prince. It had to end for it to happen. I wish I saved the memes, because they were fantastic. All I have is my own Twitter memory to prove it happened:

I love this song entirely: the “get the gat” hook (soooo New Orleans), Hov calling out the NFL/acquaintances clout chasing his potential death/rapping forever bars, Jay Elect’s ham-fisted and awkward ass Farrakhan line. Everything is exactly where it should be.

Final verdict on the full album: I don’t know, a B or B+? It had a lot more Jay-Z than expected (wooo), but -- and I rarely say this -- it could have actually been longer.

16) New Found Glory - “Greatest Of All Time”

NFG with a song referencing the Jordan-Rodman-Pippen Bulls only a few months before “The Last Dance” aired. Dare we call it marketing genius? The punk beat does not care; the punk beat is too busy taking souls.

15) Dave Hause f/ Amythyst Kiah & Kam Franklin - “Your Ghost”

“I can’t breathe”

On the heels of the George Floyd/BLM protests came Dave Hause’s somber attempt to capture the moment, desperation, and hurt. On a podcast, he said he was aware he might not ever lead the movement but still wanted to contribute something in an effort to use his platform as a white artist to change someone, anyone’s mind going forward.

14) Taylor Swift - “this me trying”

The chorus makes me feel like the crowd is parting like the Red Sea on a high school -- shit, no, middle school -- dance floor; smoke machine and all. Your crush is waiting for you on the other side. What are you going to say?

13) Phoebe Bridgers - “Kyoto”

Phoebe is one of the best lyricists out because of her specificity, but even though this song is about her dad, you can really fit it to your own narrative.

12) The Lawrence Arms - “Last, Last Words”

The Lawrence Arms wrote their new record (which singer Chris McCaughan described as “this end of the world outpost”) prior to the pandemic, but once you start to process album themes -- and research its namesake -- you do wonder. All of this, combined with some “Catcher In The Rye” references, and we’ve got ourselves a winning formula.

Dressed to kill for oblivion 

11) New Lenox - “Fairytale Of Gary, Indiana”

Your boy plays drums and is on the cover art for this one. Dave Rokos wrote the tune, which references The Pogues’ “Fairytale of New York”. Good news: no slurs in the Gary version. We’ll have you in and out in 90 seconds. Also: say hello to the recording debut of Alisa Caruso (some backup vox at the end). 

10) Beach Slang - “Tommy In The 80s”

My most played song of 2020, but it really was more of a byproduct of how early in the year the album dropped. I’m still such a sucker for it, though. Other than forced nostalgia, not totally sure what the track is about. Did learn Beach Slang recruited former Replacements bassist Tommy Stinson to play on their LP, which was named -- /deepest of breaths -- “The Deadbeat Bang of Heartbreak City” (so maybe it has something to do with that).

9) Juice WRLD f/ Mashmello - “Come & Go”

The :55 mark. Wait until the :55 mark. When the guitar kicks in and tempo doubles, we have a real “oh, shit!” moment. I knew who Juice was when he passed but only “Liquid Dreams”. His 2020 album (“Legends Never Die”) showed us of what could have been; 55 minutes, loaded with cameos and creativity and experimentation. This song had me in its gravitational pull immediately. By the end of the year, they were using it on sports broadcasts, and it felt like a ubiquitous part of the culture.

One of my favorite days of 2020 was visiting the Juice mural in Chicago with my wife. We went impulsively during the day after someone posted a picture on Twitter.

I snapped one of my own and posted to IG with the Signals Midwest lyric “There is such quiet grace in private moments in public spaces”. The band responded with “RIP JUICE”; the perfect online exchange.

Shortly after, I was out with a different group of friends, and we went back at night. This time, it was protected by a fence you had to squeeze past. When we got through, there were kids in there smoking, taking pictures, just hanging out; empty liquor bottles lined the bottom of the mural. Even though it didn’t take all that long to make it there, it still felt like a journey and total ‘movie moment in real life’; a complete rarity in a year like 2020.

8) Mac Miller - “Good News”

Maybe I’ll lay down for a little...

Sadly continuing the theme of artists gone too soon, we have this reflective Mac Miller single, which feels more like self-eulogy than traditional rap. You feel it the entire time. The song crests with “There’s a whole lot more for me waitin’ on the other side”, and it conveys a readiness for whatever happens next.

7) The Dirty Nil - “Done With Drugs”

I don’t pray to Jesus or even own a suit

We lost the creators of our last two songs to substances, and, if we are to take this song at face value, The Dirty Nil don’t want to go down the same path. Drying out never sounded so cool and defiant... until the IKEA suggestion.

6) The Weeknd - “Blinding Lights”

Uptempo Abel is undefeated. My favorite pop song of 2020 has you feeling like you’re speeding through the empty streets of nighttime Las Vegas in a stolen car; indifferent to your environment, only tuned in to your personal desire.

And, on the lamer side of the spectrum, it spawned a catchy TikTok dance.

5) Spanish Love Songs - “Self-Destruction (As A Sensible Career Choice)”

It won’t be this bleak forever... yeah, right.

SLS has always been over-the-top with their lyrics spotlighting the hopelessness of the human condition -- so it was the *perfect* combo to being locked inside with nothing looking to forward to. Bonus: fun cake video.

Though the song’s core is uncut despair, a random moment I remember from 2020 was my wife telling me “I can hear you smiling as you’re singing” from another room as I belted the despondent chorus.

4) Worst Party Ever - “False Teeth”

This song sounds like The Front Bottoms; insecure yet so full.

3) Run The Jewels - “the ground below”

There were a lot of songs *about* 2020, but I’m not sure any artist soundtracked what being alive now is like more than RTJ. My favorite rap song and rap record of 2020.

Fav Killer Mike line: “Not a holy man, but I'm moral in my perversiveness / So I support the sex workers unionizing their services”

Fav El-P line: “I'll slap a dying child he don't pronounce my name correct”

2) The Menzingers - “America Pt. 2″

The Menzingers unexpectedly released an acoustic, re-done version of 2019′s “America (You’re Freaking Me Out)” single. It dropped on my birthday -- June 5th, 2020 -- as the rage in this country boiled over and protesters took to the streets. Though some of the lyrics remained the same, the new ones were changed with true purpose:

Well George Floyd was murdered by a cop The whole world saw the video and watched Now justice is long overdue Grab your pitchforks, we’re heading to Pennsylvania Avenue

I had nothing left when the first pre-chorus hit: “I hope the Devil and Donald and Mitch McConnell rot in hell for all tomorrows”. Tattoo this on my fucking soul.

All funds from the song were donated to Community Bail Funds (via Act Blue) & Campaign Zero. I purchased the track before hearing a note.

1) Machine Gun Kelly - “My Bloody Valentine”

Going into the year, I couldn’t tell you the difference between Machine Gun Kelly and Mac Miller -- now they’re both fixtures in this Top 10. All I really knew about MGK involved tattoos and a rap battle lost to Eminem (not that anyone ever beats Eminem).

In 2020, he took a punk/emo turn, with the services of GOAT drummer Travis Barker and new squeeze Megan Fox at his side. This song’s lyrics could potentially be cheesy but aren’t -- they all land. From the simulation going bad to not wanting “fake love” to all the damn second guessing and the earnestness that just won’t let you off the mat.

Every piece to the puzzle adds something: the messy hair, the Ken doll build, the forced iconic pink guitar that now feels actually iconic. It was almost like no one had any fun this year so he could have all of it on our behalf. There’s a half second shot of him sticking his tongue our during the pre-chorus, a joy 99.99% of us never got to feel.

The album itself was just as fantastic*; a 2000′s pop punk throwback with a Halsey duet, horrible skits (hi, Pete Davidson FaceTime), OpIvy lyrical nod (complete with a royalty check), a warp speed punk track that doesn’t even crack the minute mark, your token 6/8 ballad, acoustic closer (about his daughter), and some experimentation that leaves the new genre but still stays nearby; shades of Lil Peep, if he had Blink-182 as his backing band. Speaking of, please do not miss Travis’ fill at the 2:30 mark.

(* - named “Tickets To My Downfall”... woof)

MGK could get cancelled tomorrow, but we’ll always have this year in a bottle. The acoustic version of the song (sung in a lower resister), the 10 minute making of video (that I watched, uh, twice)... shit, he even turned it into a medley at the start of 2021.

It might be cliche to say “stay winning”, but when someone stacks this many W’s with no end in sight, what the fuck else do you call it? Real love.

* * *

Thank you so much for reading. Here is the Spotify playlist (includes 87 of the 88 songs).

[gayenerd]

This is a 2017 interview done by a fan for the fansite, Green Day Authority. It’s super disjointed and fan interviews never ask tough questions, but eh. 

Recently, we asked Green Day's management if it would be possible to get an exclusive interview for GDA, our first ever. After some coordination, it was agreed that I could interview them in Omaha (a show I had already planned to attend). I found out on Wednesday afternoon that I would be interviewing them on Saturday, but fortunately, I had already been preparing a list of questions in case it worked out. Before I go any further, I'll tell you that I had a LOT more questions on my list than there was time for. So, if you're wondering why I didn't ask something in particular, it's probably because we ran out of time. That is the only thing I would change about my whole experience if I had the opportunity. The arrangement was that one of the tour managers would meet me at the back entrance of the arena before sound check. After going through two layers of security, that's exactly what happened. I was the only non-crew person in sound check (!) and it simply felt surreal to be in that position. I enjoyed it greatly but was, of course, also thinking about how the upcoming interview would go. I wanted to represent GDA and the fan community in a way that would not leave a bad impression while also getting some good discussion from the guys. After sound check, I was walked back to a room with a couch and a few chairs. I was able to get comfortable and had some help to set up my recording equipment — thanks again to Lauren Banjo and Daniel, my son, for helping me get exactly the right device for recording the interview. In just a few minutes, in walked Billie, Mike and Tre. I have to say that, in all the times I've seen them, they have never looked better. They seemed relaxed, happy, and bursting with good health. They all sat down, and we got started. Aside from running out of time (though, to be honest, it would have taken hours to work through all my questions), I'm reasonably pleased with the way it all turned out. The guys were so incredibly nice and seemed to be totally engaged in the moment we were all sharing together. They really thought about their answers and seemed to enjoy the discussion. Here's the first installment of the interview — we talked about music, touring, and special shows. I did you all a favor and removed a lot of my rambling when I was asking the questions. Enjoy! "J'net: Guys, you work so hard, and we see how hard you work. During shows, you give so much of your emotion, yourselves, and your life energy to what you do. What keeps you going and keeps you so passionate about what you're doing? Mike: You said it, 'passion.' We only know how to do this one way — give 100%. It's just driven into us, I guess. Tre: It's the way we're wired. Mike: The music moves us the same way with the energy from the crowd. Billie: I agree. We love what we do. I think there've even been times when I thought, 'Maybe I'll take it easy tonight,' and then as soon as you hit the stage, it's just 'All systems go!' It's just a natural response for me. Really no other way to explain it. Mike: I always think, 'I don't know if I'll always be able to give what 100% is today, but I'll always give 100% of what I have to offer.' I don't think these engines know how to run any differently. J'net: Well, it's awesome. Your fans appreciate it so much. I wish you guys could just sometimes sit out in line, y'know? We get in line as early as we can and we compare notes ... "Well, we're driving from Kansas City as soon as the show's over..." Mike: You guys should film some of that. We never get to see it, it's cool! Film some of that interaction and maybe post some of that stuff too, it's rad! Billie & Tre: Yeah! J'net: [thinks to self: challenge accepted!] I'd be glad to do that, yeah. I mean, everybody would, even the people who know how to do that [technical stuff] … like Billie, he's pretty good with all the Facebook Lives and Instagram. Billie: Yeah, I'm getting pretty awesome — Billie Joe Zuckerberg! J'net: Right … 'Now where's the off button?...' Billie: Thank God for two young sons, man! They can tell you everything. Mike: I have to call my wife [laughs]. My wife's still young, she knows how to do that shit! J'net: Music is an emotional experience, and some of your songs are so emotional. Do you ever feel overcome by the emotion when you're performing, or are you somehow in performance mode so you can rise above it? Billie: I definitely go there. Like that line 'I'm like a son that was raised without a father,' — that's a button-pusher for me. Also with Forever Now, and also lately with playing '21 Guns' acoustic … when I get emotional is when I hear people singing along — when I hear voices that loud. I think with Green Day, we create an atmosphere that's as close to a European crowd that you can get — with people singing along, almost like a soccer anthem. And I love seeing people who are normally self-conscious when they lose it. I try to push people to just lose it when they come to our shows. Some nights, people are so pent up with energy, they don't even know that they have inside them. And I try to get people to dance like no one's watching and sing like no one's listening — just go for it! J'net: Do you have favorite show moments that you like to think back on? Billie: Smashing my guitar against the Subaru just the other night was pretty fun. [laughs] That's a first. I've never done that before. Mike: There are favorite moments of each show. We go backstage after the show, and we talk about all the rad things that happened. Billie: There's so many different things that we see going on in the crowd. There was a guy that was like an ex-hippie that was in the house the other night, I think in Portland. He was in the back, and I could see him just dancing and singing all night long. He was probably about the same age as my brother — about 65, and it was fun to just watch him. That's the kind of stuff I like to remember. " Watch for the next installment of the interview! We’ll also be sharing more of the audio from our favorite moments.

The second part of our interview focuses on the band's latest movie project, 'Turn It Around: The Story of East Bay Punk.' They helped produce it with filmmaker and longtime friend, Corbett Redford. The day after the Omaha show, my son Daniel and I started the drive back home to Tulsa, but stopped in Kansas City to see the movie. We went to a great independent theater there, Screenland at Tapcade, and when it was time for the movie to start, we settled ourselves in for a fascinating evening. There's so much to absorb in this movie, but it's compelling all the way through. There is a great deal of history that is lovingly captured and discussed. We feel we need to see it again and again, so It's good to know that a deal is in the works to distribute for home viewing, and that, according to Corbett Redford, "the DVD, Blu-Ray is being worked on, designed, mastered and readied for manufacturing." So many people were interviewed for this movie that I couldn't possibly list them all. The interviews were often just as interesting, funny, or emotional as the vintage footage of events from the beginnings of East Bay punk. It was a touching movie with many emotional moments (at least for us). Two or three of the people who were interviewed in the movie came close to tears as they were talking about the past and their connection to the famed 924 Gilman Street. For Green Day fans, as well as fans of many of the other bands involved in those early days of East Bay punk, there is rare and wonderful vintage footage that really gives a feel for what those early days were like. The writing by Corbett Redford and Anthony Marchitiello is exceptionally fine — it tells a story that could have been overwhelmingly complex in an articulate, accessible, and moving way. The narration by Iggy Pop, the animations (credited to Tim Armstrong, J. Bonner, and Alex Koll), the cinematography and photographic direction by Greg Schneider, and the hand lettering (credited to Aaron Cometbus) are simply delightful and absolutely enrich the content of the movie. I loved the way some of the newer interview footage had a "distressed" look to be more compatible with the footage it was matched with in the film. As Corbett said when I mentioned this to him, "The distressed VHS happened as our crew filmed EVERY interview with an old VHS camera! So that wasn't an effect, it was real! We decided as a crew that VHS and black and white Xerox were going to be our two main go-to 'themes' - so Greg went and bought a VHS camera, and voila!" There were obviously a lot of eyes on this film making sure that every little detail was as perfect as could be. There's no question in my mind that it was made with hearts full of love. Here's part two of our interview: "J'net: 'Turn it Around' is getting such incredible response from most reviewers and many in the punk community. Do you feel more acceptance coming from the community than you may have felt previously? Is there a partial 'return from 86'? Mike: The spirit of the movie is that it was made by the people in the community, and if you took Green Day out of it, it's still an unbelievable documentary. We basically stepped aside and let the movie get made the way it should be made. We realized that should be the anchor — the beginning, that's the beginning. [We wanted] for people to understand the different ingredients it took to make where we are and … to make the beginning… Billie: For us, when I was talking to Corbett, it was — 'Let's do a documentary that could inspire the next generation to create their own scene and not just talk about how you had to be there.' Because almost every scene documentary I've ever seen has a 'glory days' thing about it, where, with this one, you see the people like Michelle Gonzalez, who's a teacher and an author, and Miranda July, who’s a filmmaker and artist, and there are people who are activists, still playing music and active in the community. We approached it like, 'Let's not turn this into a piss and vinegar fest.' Billie: And if it wasn't for Tim Yohannon, even though we had big differences in the past, we wouldn't have had a place to play because he, with other people, created and made Gilman Street happen - and that I'm super grateful for. So if there's a story that you watch out for, it's what Tim Yohannon has done for the bay area scene and globally also. J'net: And Corbett did a great job realizing the vision of the movie. Mike: Corbett kind of did the impossible. You talk about a bunch of people in the scene — you know everybody's in that scene because we're all latchkey kids and come from some fucked up background, right? So then you have to get all the bands to agree to put their music on it this many years later. We had no doubt that he's an incredibly intelligent person and an artful person, but he fuckin' did it. Tre: He's always been super resourceful, and it's kind of like now he's all grown up. Mike: All we had to do was talk him off the ledge a couple times. I mean, we'd go in his office, and it looked like 'A Beautiful Mind.' There's writing everywhere and he's like (Mike demonstrates hyperventilating). It started off he didn't have a beard, and then he turned into Father Time. J'net: Did the fact that he's so well-respected in the community and such a genuine person help him to get buy-in from the people who participated? Mike: And the other people he recruited, like Kamala Parks and Anthony (Marchitiello) and Eggplant and Tim Armstrong, are highly respected and helping to make this thing. And it's like, 'Wait a minute, this isn't like a Warner Brothers movie. This is people who were actually in the scene making it.' And when they would vouch for him, it became even more helpful." We're pretty sure we spotted a cameo of Mr. Redford himself, but I won't put a spoiler here by hinting where to watch for him! For the same reason, I'm not going to tell you details of my favorite parts of the movie. When the opportunity arises, you should pick out your own favorites, and next time we're sitting in line for a Green Day show, we can compare notes. Bottom line, whether you watch the movie because you're interested in the captivating history of East Bay punk or because you want to see how Green Day got their start or both, you aren't likely to be disappointed. The movie is great entertainment but also left me inspired to be the best I can be at whatever I choose to do. The passion that went into the scene way back then, and into the making of the movie itself, left its mark on me. I hope you'll find that it leaves you feeling the same way.

In part two, we talked to the band about the early days at Gilman Street and the new movie, 'Turn it Around: The Story of East Bay Punk.' "J’net: From there, Green Day has come so far. What were you dreaming about back then, have you achieved it, and do you have any dreams you haven’t realized yet — things you still want to do? Tre: Pizza! J’net: Really? You haven’t had pizza yet? [Everyone laughs — these guys are SO polite!] Mike: Back then it was like, 'Can we get a show? Can we get into Gilman?' That’s a goal. It’s always like a series of goals – like 'Let’s get a tour.' 'Oh my gosh, what would it be like to play that one club there?' Maybe it’s a different town — or Europe! 'Let’s go to Europe and tour Europe!' There’s always another thing to be done. We just like to keep it exciting. Even live — even live, if we feel it's not exciting and not eventful or we're just going through the motions, we'll do something to change that because we like to stay in the moment, too. Life should be exciting. J’net: [to Tre] When you gave the drumsticks to that little kid last night (in Kansas City) … Mike: I did that. But Tre does every night anyway. One of us will always do it." Backstory: In Kansas City, there was a little girl on her dad’s shoulders throughout much of the show, although security tried multiple times to get him to put her down. At one point, Mike’s bass tech came into the security pit and leaned through to hand her a set of drumsticks. "Mike: She was hitting right on the beat with them on her dad’s shoulders! A lot of people know this, but every night Tre hides a pair of drumsticks under a seat. J’net: Do you always know if somebody finds them? Tre: Well, I put a hashtag on them and sometimes they'll go and put a picture with #TreCoolsHiddenSticks if they found them. J'net: I would just want to know — if no one posted, did they get found? I would have to go back and see if they're still there. [laughs] Tre: Somebody will find them. I'll tape them under the seats. Mike: Eventually. Someone will find them — like at an Usher show. [laughs] J'net: Or a hockey game. [Laughter] J’net: I got to go to the Hall of Fame Induction and the House of Blues show. What a show! I was beating up on the people next to me, because every time something else exciting happened I was [grabbing people and shaking them], "Oh my God! Oh my God!" That was incredible. I want to ask how that felt, but I’m sure you all thought it felt incredible. But could you ever have dreamed that you would be there? And what gave you the idea to come out as Sweet Children, and have Tim [Armstrong of Rancid] come out and sing with y’all and … to celebrate it in that way? Billie: I think it was all about 'bringing it all back home,' to quote Bob Dylan. It was like, 'Let’s make this as fun as possible.' Just have a great time and do everything you can … there’s so much tension with a lot of bands that have gone in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame that you literally can’t get them to be on the same stage at the same time. And someone will stay home. And for us, it was the opposite of that. I’d rather seize the moment to remember how we got there. You start off when you’re a kid in a band, and it’s the most exciting thing in the world. And it’s so important to inspire people to understand that it IS the most exciting thing in the world. J’net: Do y’all listen to any kind of music that you think would surprise people to know that you liked it? Mike: All kinds of music. I just like good songs. I don’t care if it’s country — or the other night Tre went out to a jazz club, and then Jason and I went out to the same jazz club after they’d left — the same jazz club, and we didn’t even know they went. And we saw an unbelievable band there in Kansas City. Tre: I like German AND Italian opera. J’net: Do you really? Seriously? Tre: [Laughs] J’net: Oh ... but THAT would have surprised people. Tre: No … just the German. [laughs] J’net: Well, I’m the Italian fan, myself. Tre: It’s all Greek to me! Greek music. Billie: I’m kind of an audiophile. I like to go deep with finding obscure power-pop bands... Tre: Billie makes the best playlists. And he’s the best DJ. Billie: I just read this book called Never a Dull Moment ['Never a Dull Moment: 1971 The Year That Rock Exploded,' by David Hepworth] and it’s all about the music that happened in 1971, so I put together a playlist of all [that music]. I like getting into to doing my own … which is funny, because everybody's doing playlists and putting them on Spotify and stuff like that, and I do playlists and share them with my friends. Mike: She's got to hook you up with about a million more friends to share it with. [Laughter] Mike: Yeah, when we hit the playlist side of things, he’s ready. Billie: Yeah, and it’s all kinds of different stuff, whether it's like Joni Mitchell and Linda Ronstadt, to like ... Foghat and T-Rex. It’s fun to listen to. Especially back then, there was a certain amount of — people were uninhibited. If you listen to Marvin Gaye singing 'What’s Going On?,' there’s nothing self-conscious about songs like that and what was going on back then. I think nowadays, music is so much more visual or something. Some of the stuff from the past is just inspiring. J’net: And you have lots of influences, I can hear them in your music. There are little bits that sound like country and little bits that sound like different genres. Did you get that from your family, or was it all around you, or what? Billie: Well, it was all around me with my family — and I think when I was a kid I just always wanted to be the one to listen to something different. So, when kids were listening to Kool and the Gang’s 'Celebration,' I was listening to AC/DC and Van Halen, or trying to be the first in my high school to discover punk rock, and alternative stuff, too. Nobody in Rodeo had a clue who the Replacements and Hüsker Dü was. I was like the only punk kid in my high school. And John Swett [High School] was ... 400 people, 350 at the most. Mike: Is that what it was? I thought it was a little more than that. That’s still a lot of people, though, when you think about it. Billie: Yeah, there's 80 people in that graduating class. Mike: And then there was this one kid in that high school [who was punk]. Billie: And half of them actually graduated. [Laughs]"

This is the fourth and final installment of our interview with Green Day. In part three, we talked to the band about their past goals, and the musical roots of each of the guys. I have also included some things that were not part of the interview itself, or our recording. At the beginning of the transcription below, I knew our time was running out — and during the recording, we were packing up. I was throwing on my “Still Breathing” shirt, as I call it, for my photo with the band. But I just kept talking and asking questions the whole time to make the most of every second. "J’net: So, I have one more quick question, and this is just my own personal thing that I’ve always wondered — when Mike sang the second half of 'American Eulogy,' did you [Billie] write it with that in mind, did it just happen, I mean … was it something personal to Mike, because the way [Mike] sang it and kind of spit those lyrics out, it sounds like it’s very … something [deciding to stop rambling on with this never ending question and let someone answer] … Billie: I mean, I just wrote it and asked him if he wanted to sing it. [laughs] Mike: I think you need to sing to what the lyrics are calling for. I tend to sing ... like a little girl sometimes. [laughs] J’net: Not in THAT song. Mike: Yeah, but I was conscious that, 'This song isn't for singing like a little girl.' Or if it is, it's a little girl with attitude. Billie: If you think about 'Outsider' by the Ramones, and how DeeDee sang the bridge to it, it just kind of makes more sense. It just kind of comes from the band. And what else? 'I Was There' – Mike sang the bridge on that. J'net: Yeah. Well, you [Mike] sing that 'American Eulogy' like it was written just for you. Just made me wonder … Mike: [Hamming it up] Why, thank you! A friend of mine wrote that just for me! … 'Hey Billie, I got an idea! We can go ahead and take five.' J'net: So, I'm getting a sense that it's time for you [Tre] to have your pizza that you've never had before. Any last things you guys want to say to the readers of Green Day Authority? Mike: Just that we appreciate them and that they should be good to each other and look out for one another online and offline. But, we appreciate the hell out of them, cause that's our community. They're fuckin' rad. We'll see [them] on tour. Billie: I think for me as a musician, it's always important to be a fan first. Because I'm obviously a big fan of the people I like to listen to and stuff like that. So with that said, [we're] like-minded and kindred-spirits. Tre: In the words of the wild stallions, 'Be excellent to each other!'" Thus ended the interview proper, though there was more conversation, as I asked the guys to take a quick photo with me (the first time I've ever asked for a photo with any of them ... the wait was so worth it given how the photo turned out). Then, touring sound engineer and photographer Chris Dugan reminded me that I had a t-shirt to show the band. It was from Jack Yates, Omaha-based editor extraordinaire for GDA, who has been taking all my scribblings and making them look beautiful on the site. His vintage shirt was from Green Day's first tour — the band had screen printed it by hand back in the day. He thought they might like to see it, and maybe even sign it for him (which they graciously did). Tre sarcastically joked that it was really only six months old. Mike laughed, and said he still has the original screen print stencil for that shirt. While the guys were signing Jack's shirt, I was throwing on my "Still Breathing" shirt, which you can see in the photo. The guys loved, it which prompted me to tell them that it's from the Woody Guthrie Museum in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where I'm from. Mike excitedly told me that his wife's family and Billie's whole family were also from Oklahoma. This prompted Billie to tell a story, which really delighted me. The backstory is that he began to tell this tale at the Tulsa Green Day show back in March, but didn't make it all the way to the brilliant ending. We'd talked about this during the car trip there, and Billie just spontaneously answered our question! "Billie: Yeah, my mom's from Sperry, Oklahoma. Oh, we went — this is a funny story. When we were there, I was trying to find where my mom's house was — it was like, I think, about 15 minutes outside of Tulsa. And we went into a high school, and all the people would talk about was like native burial grounds and stuff like that. So we're just looking for this one in particular. So we went into Sperry High School and talked to the administrators, and I come out and all of a sudden it was like, it clicked [snaps fingers], they were like, 'Oh my God, he's here!' and they run out and one goes, 'You're either … Bruno Mars … or the guy in Green Day!' [Laughter] Billie: 'Bruno! Bruno! Bruno Joe!' Tre: [Laughs] 'Bruno Joe.' Billie: And then they sent me all these hats, because they're the Pirates, so I got all these cool pirate hats." Now, as they were still signing Jack's shirt, and I was still "primping" for my first ever Green Day photo, we had this hilarious conversation: "J'net: Do y'all know about all the mis-heard lyrics in your songs? Billie: Mis-heard? Mike: Misinterpreted, you mean? J'net: No, like people hear them and they think you're saying something else! Tre: Oh, that's funny! J'net: Like, 'Gotta know the enemy … raw ham.' Billie: Raw ham? [Hilarity ensues] Tre: Raw ham. J'net: And, 'Somebody take my pants, I think they're falling off … into a state of regression.' Mike: [Singing] 'Somebody take my pants, I think they're falling off, into a state of regression.' [Laughing] Billie: That's amazing. That's a good one. J'net: And then, my son one day and said to me he hears, [singing ... YES, I sang in front of Green Day!] 'Dump truck! Color me stupid!' Billie: Oh, dump truck! [laughs] J'net: British people hear, 'I wore cologne, I wore cologne' [in 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams']. Billie: Oh, wow … J'net: And in 'Welcome to Paradise' — 'Pay attention to the cracked streets and the broken gnomes.' Tre: Scary. Scary. [Laughs] Billie: Nice. I've heard that one before. I think I've seen a meme. J'net: I just wondered if … because when a new song comes out, before the lyrics are published, we're all trying to figure out, "What are they saying? What are they saying?" Billie: Next time we're just going to write them out different. They'll be like just totally different lyrics. Tre: We'll do fucked up lyrics! J'net: Oh yeah, right. That would be great. Tre: We'll get like six-year-olds to say what they think the lyrics are, and then we'll have that be the lyrics. J'net: That would be great! Or me, because my hearing is shot from so many Green Day shows!" This was where our recording ended. At some point during the discussion that continued un-recorded, I told the guys that this (the Omaha show) might be my last show for a while. I said, "A dear friend of mine has a ticket for me to the Rose Bowl show, but I don't know if I'll be able to afford to get there, so this could be it for a while." After that, we prepared to take the photo, which Chris Dugan (the band's sound guy and photographer) kindly offered to take for us — so it wasn't a selfie, after all! Mike suggested that I sit in the chair, and they'd all stand around me. Of course, I can't even express how sweet this was. Then, because I'd been talking to superfan Fran Green in line that day, I said, "Do you know that girl Fran with long brown hair who's always right in the corner of the barricade?" (I motioned with my hands to show where Fran usually stands). And here's how I remember that conversation going: "Billie: Oh, I know her, she's great! She always wants to get up and sing or something, but I really like her energy right there in the corner. Mike: Which one is she? Billie: She has a lip piercing. Mike: Oh yeah! [smiling] J'net: Well, today is her 50th show! Billie: Her 50th really? J'net: Yes, and she's travelling from the 1st through the 27th and not staying in any hotels — just sleeping on the street or in the car. Billie and Mike: WOW. Tre: Sounds like somebody needs a shower!" Finally, my time with Green Day was coming to an end. I thanked them all, and they walked out. Then, as I was about to leave the room, Tre came back with his wife Sara and introduced me to her. She is just as gorgeous and sweet as her online personality seems. We chatted for a few minutes. I told her we love her because of how happy she makes 'this guy' — I point at Tre. To say both their faces were beaming would be a terrible understatement. Just looking at how happy they are together made my heart melt. As they were leaving, Tre stuck his head back in the room and said, "See you at the Rose Bowl." So now, I guess I'll have to find a way to make it to the Rose Bowl. Hope to see you all there! After all this, I was walked out on to the arena floor and asked to choose my spot. I was just dumfounded with the entire barrier to choose from … don't we all wish that could somehow happen at every show?!?! Later, after everyone came in, I couldn't see Fran in her usual spot, and I was just so disappointed, because I thought … knowing the band, they would probably do something special for her if she'd been there. Well, Billie managed to find her on the catwalk, wished her happy 50th and then started singing "Happy Birthday" to her! Hahaha! Tre also gave her an autographed drum head the next night in St. Louis, and I see that she got on stage before her tour was over. The guys are just the sweetest and love their fans so much!

[artificialqueens]

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 37 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters or to read on AO3, click here! XOXO!

Chapter Summary: Courtney and Adore begin repairing their friendship, slowly but surely.

Chapter 37: I Have Confidence

“Bonnie!” Courtney flung herself into Bonnie’s arms, causing the older woman to laugh and put down the tongs, stepping away from the grill.

“Hiya darlin’, how are you?”

“I’m good now.” Courtney’s voice was soft, muffled in her hair.

“Dory told me you were coming, so I threw on a couple of veggie burgers.” Bonnie gestured to the grill.

“Aww, thank you!”

“Do you still eat cheese, or have you gone all the way to the dark side?” Bonnie held up a package of jack cheese, which she was about to put on the burgers.

“Cheese is fine,” Courtney laughed. “Although you know I’m really here for your macaroni salad.”

“Hey, Court? You wanna stop hanging on my poor mother and help me set the table?” Adore called from the other side of the patio, arms full.

“Coming!” Courtney pressed one last kiss to Bonnie’s cheek before skipping over to happily fold napkins, just as Angie came outside with a couple of serving bowls.

As she laid out the silverware, Courtney looked up at Adore, setting the condiments at one end of the table. She snatched a piece of red pepper from the veggie tray and grinned, thrilled to be here with her best friend and surrogate family on this beautiful, breezy Spring evening.

Adore smiled back, the light in her hazel eyes making Courtney’s heart nearly burst with happiness.

“Who wants toasted buns?” Bonnie called.

“I do!” Courtney exclaimed, eyes glittering with amusement at the joke she knew by now was coming.

“Well then, come sit on the grill…”

Adore and Angie both groaned, but Courtney laughed uproariously as if it was the first time she’d ever heard Bonnie’s lame joke.

“Why are you encouraging her?” Adore asked, slinging an arm around Courtney’s shoulders and guiding her towards the house to get the rest of the food.

“She’s cute. I missed her-” Courtney stopped suddenly, not wanting to kill the jovial mood, but Adore nodded.

“She missed you too,” Adore said, tossing Courtney another smile before she entered the house.

Courtney took a deep breath, grateful and happy, and then followed her inside.

-

Trinity adjusted her pillow behind her back, accidentally jostling the porch swing and Willam on the other side.

Willam had joined Trinity at her Granny's for the weekend. He never missed an opportunity to get some homemade cornbread, mac and cheese, and Granny Bonet’s Famous Peach Cobbler.

Plus Granny Bonet was sweet as pie, soft-spoken with a roaring laugh. She always seemed genuine when asking Willam what he has been up to since they last had seen each other, never making him feel any different than her own grandkids.

"Shit, Trin! Don't make me drop the weed." Willam snapped, adjusting the book on his legs.

"Sorry, sorry. This thing was stabbing me in the back," she said, finally getting the pillow in place and turning to get comfortable.

"Eh, Fuck it!" Willam shrugged, taking the half-open joint to his mouth and wrapping it closed. "If I can roll up while Violet is driving, I can fucking roll anywhere. That bitch drives like she’s playing Mario Cart."

Trinity burst into laughter, nodding her head in agreement unable to vocalize.

"I don't understand how the hell she even got her license," Willam snorted, spurred on by Trinity’s giggles.  

"It's really not that bad," Trinity said, finally trying to defend their friend.

Willam gave an incredulous look over the flame he quickly ran over the joint.

"It's more so when she's impatient," Trinity clarified.

"Oh." Willam rolled his eyes before actually lighting and taking a quick intake. “So, all the time.”

"She's gotten better recently. I think Pearl's been helping her or something," Trinity shrugged, grabbing the joint.

"Wait, what? Pearl doesn't even have a car. That's not right." Willam sat up, staring seriously at Trinity.

Trinity held his gaze, intrigued by the wheels turning in his head. What could he be thinking?

"They're having sex!" Willam finally exclaimed triumphantly.

"What? No!" Trinity’s brow furrowed.

Willam shook his head and continued, "Actually, it's pretty obvious. And right under our noses. Violet’s one sneaky bitch."

"No, no, no, no, no," Trinity coughed, deep and loud.

"Yes!"

"Do you really think Violet is over Fame though?" Trinity asked, intentionally rocking the swing as Willam took another hit.

"Well, yeah. Or...maybe. Probably. At least, she should be."

"No." Trinity shook her head adamantly. “She’s definitely not.”

"Okay, Trin. If Pearl and Violet haven't hooked up already; they will. I bet you that."

"Bet what? Because I don't even know if Pearl is really Violet's type," Trinity hesitated.

"How so?"

"Like compatibility...in bed and stuff like that. You know Violet is forward and aggressive and Pearl seems sort of nonchalant but in the ‘you can't tell me what to do’ kind of way. Violet has to be the boss, and Pearl doesn’t seem like she’d let her. Incompatible." Trinity shrugged, snatching the joint from her cousin’s hand. “Don’t forget to share, dick.”

"Hold up! And how would you know what either of them is like in bed? You’ve given this a lot of thought, cuz." Willam looked genuinely shocked and confused.

“It’s just a guess,” Trinity said, rolling her eyes. She put the joining to her lips, inhaling deeply, even as her cheeks darkened in embarrassment. “I mean, you know, it’s not like I obsess over it or anything...shut up.”

“Omigod, Trin, are you gonna start lezzing out with those whores?”

Trinity started coughing and laughing, shaking her head.

“Never say never,” she wheezed, laughing even harder at the scandalized look on his face.

-

“What’s so funny?” Roy asked, tapping on Courtney’s thigh. She was sitting next to him in the booth at Denny’s, giggling to herself over something on her phone for about the 20th time since they’d sat down. They were with April and Bob, getting a late snack after the movies, and her mind was clearly elsewhere.  

“Oh, um...sorry. Adore just sent me this-” Courtney gave a sheepish smile. “You know what, it’s not important.” She closed her phone and stuffed it into her jacket pocket.

“Well, thanks for finally joining us,” Roy said. He was going for lighthearted, but it came out a bit cross and scolding.

“Sorry, daddy,” Courtney teased, causing April to burst out laughing and Roy to make an even grumpier face. She stole a French fry off his plate, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

“I think she needs a spanking,” Bob said, and Courtney turned to stick her tongue out at him.

“You need a spanking,” she informed Bob.

“Hell yeah I do.” He cast a sly look over at April. “You wanna spank me?”

“Not especially,” April said, feigning boredom as she sipped her strawberry milkshake.

“What about you, Court?” Bob wiggled his eyebrows. “Want to teach me how to behave?”

“You’re sick,” Courtney said.

“Come on, someone must want to punish me,” Bob whined, and then yelled, “Ow!” as Roy kicked him hard under the table.

“You’re welcome,” Roy said. “Now eat your chicken fingers.”

Courtney laughed, then felt her phone buzz in her pocket, fingers itching to open it and see what Adore might have sent. She reached inside; even just touching it made her feel better. When Roy got into a heated debate with Bob over whether the Jackass crew was in fact funny, she quickly flipped it open and checked.

ADORE: LOL but can you blame me?

COURTNEY: Of course not. You’re only human.

Courtney finished sending the text, quickly putting her phone back, when she looked up and saw April gazing knowingly at her. She shrugged guiltily, pulling her root beer float over and taking a sip.

-

Once Courtney and Adore made up, play practice became about ten times as fun. They didn’t have any scenes together, so whenever one of them was on stage, the other would be cheering them on silently from the wings.

Courtney was especially supportive once the performances began—not once leaving during Adore’s big solo, ready to leap out and fight anyone who would dare upset her this year. Fortunately, the protestors stayed home. Apparently, as Mrs. Maguire thought, just the words ‘Sound of Music’ were enough to appease them. They didn’t bother watching to see the genderqueer lead, lesbian nuns, drag queen baroness or gay messenger boy mincing about.

Closing night was a bit bittersweet for Roy—after all, he’d had a starring role in every show his entire 4 years there. College would be different, and he knew that this part of his life was now officially over. Courtney hugged him tight, and Adore teasingly told him that it was okay if he wanted to cry.

“Fuck off,” he said, burying his face into Courtney’s hair.

“What, I’m serious! We’re all very impressed at this display of emotion,” Adore said.

“Yeah, it really shows how secure you are in your masculinity,” Courtney added with a wink.

“Ugh! You’re both assholes!” Roy said before he stomped off stage.

“Hmm. I guess he’s not that secure,” Adore commented, and she and Courtney both began to giggle again.  

-

As May bled into June, days getting longer and warmer, Adore began to feel antsy for summer to begin. One Saturday, she invited Courtney for an old-fashioned sleepover in the tree house, just like the good old days, and Courtney enthusiastically agreed. It was their first one in almost a year, and both girls were excited to reconnect, but maybe a bit nervous. There was still so much that they’d never said to each other. Still so much that they didn’t know how to put into words.

Adore climbed up the ladder with pizza and drinks, just as Courtney finished laying out the sleeping bags.

“Pizza delivery!”

“Ooh, yay!” Courtney exclaimed. “And um...I stole this from the liquor cabinet. Hopefully Adam won’t miss it.”

She produced a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniels, which impressed Adore, and made her send a grateful little prayer to Karen’s latest boyfriend.

“Thanks, Adam!”

Feeling like she could use a little something to help her relax, Courtney took a big swig from the bottle.

“Ugh, this is disgusting!” Courtney winced at the bitter taste, giggling.

“There's Coke too,” Adore said, and off Courtney's horrified expression, clarified, “Coca-cola, you dumbass. You can use it as a chaser.” She gestured to the white bag on top of the pizza box.

“Oh. Right.” Courtney flashed an apologetic grin and pulled a bottle of Coke from the bag, taking a sip.

Adore shook her head, chuckling, taking the bottle from her.

“Here…” She poured some of the soda out the window, then carefully replaced it with Jack, taking a sip to make sure the ratio was right before adding a little more alcohol. “Perfect.”

“Ugh, Adore!” Courtney opened the pizza box, groaning. “There’s pepperoni all over it!”

“Oh shit.”

“Gross…”

“Sorry!” Adore said, explaining, “I haven’t been hanging out with a lot of vegetarians lately, I forgot. Here, I’ll eat the pepperoni off for you.”

“Then there will still be pepperoni juice,” Courtney whined.

“You’re such a pain in the ass. Pepperoni is barely an animal. I don’t even know what animal it is!”

“Yeah. Don’t you think that’s a problem?” She pushed the pizza aside and dug into the bag of cheesy bread instead.

“Well. Sorry,” Adore said again, and Courtney leaned back, giving her a smile before taking another swig of Jack and Coke.

“It’s cool, I can eat this.”

-

“So…” Adore traced the edge of the sleeping bag with her finger, by now a bit sleepy and rocking a healthy buzz, finding herself realizing again just how much she’d missed her best friend. She felt bad, wished she could take back all the months of silence. But instead, she settled for trying her best to find out how her life was going these days. “...How are things with Roy?”

“Good. Great, actually,” Courtney sighed. “He’s the best.”

“He really loves you a lot,” Adore said, the memory of their argument a few weeks back still fresh in her mind. How Roy was the one who, in spite of everything, got her to make up with Courtney—and all because he wanted his girlfriend to be happy. It was disgustingly sweet, actually.

“Yeah. It’s gonna be so weird when he’s gone next year…” Courtney said.

“Oh, right. Shit. How’re you gonna survive?” They’d been joined at the hip for so long now that Adore couldn’t imagine what school—or life—would be like for Courtney without him.

“I’ll manage,” Courtney said, rolling over onto her side. “Anyway, he’s going to UCLA, so he’s only gonna be a few hours away. I’ll probably still see him all the time.”

“That’s cool.” Adore took another sip of their makeshift cocktail, swallowing down her residual bitterness about Roy and Courtney’s perfect teen romance along with the whiskey.  

“What about you. Any...special girls I should know about?” Courtney asked carefully. She took the bottle from Adore’s hands.

“Special girls? Okay mom.”

“Shut up, you know what I mean! Anyone who-”

“Nah.” Adore shook her head slowly.

“Do you and Violet still ever-”

“No,” Adore said, not even letting her get out the question. “We both realized that it was super toxic, and we’re much better off as friends. And this time, it feels like it’s stuck.”

“And Pearl?”

“Pearl?” Adore furrowed her brow, shaking her head. She and Pearl were still in that weird place where things were almost flirty but not. And she was still the only one who knew the whole truth about what happened with Courtney. It was too hard to explain, so instead she just said, “No. Although she has been really great this year. You know...with everything.”

Courtney took another sip, nearly polishing off the bottle, and Adore crawled over to make a new one.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.” Adore once again poured the Coke out the window—this time maybe a bit more, and then replaced the contents with Jack.  

It was a few moments before Courtney spoke again. She appeared to be collecting her thoughts.

“How did you know that you were gay? Or...when…did you start thinking about it?”

Adore turned around, head tilted.

“Where’d this come from?”

“I’m just curious. You never really talked to me about it.” Courtney held a pillow in her arms, hair falling across her eyes.

Adore considered what to say, how honest to actually be in this moment, deciding that a few lies of omission were probably the best idea for everyone.

“I guess I always sort felt a little...different. And then when Violet started tutoring me, she kind of guessed? And she made me feel like...I don’t know. It was normal. Or at least, okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” Courtney assured her, then asked, “So...was she the first girl you ever...had feelings for?”

Adore’s tongue felt thick in her mouth. She didn’t want to lie, not tonight when they were supposed to be bonding. But on the other hand, they’d only recently found their way back to each other, and what if she destroyed their delicate new reality? She didn’t think she could bear another fight, another period of loneliness like she’d had this year.

“Um...I guess I had little crushes before, but nothing that ever...went anywhere,” Adore finally said. Which was true.

“Oh yeah? Like who?” It was a fair question. A casual question. Her best friend showing interest in the inner workings of her heart.

“Uh…” Adore racked her brain for an answer that would satisfy her. “Remember that counselor we had at drama camp? Asia?”

Courtney did remember—she was a pretty Black girl with a dazzling smile, funny and lively but always sure to keep them in line.

“Oh yeah. She was cute,” Courtney nodded approvingly.

“And of course, um...Shakira.”

“Of course.” Courtney giggled, then bit her lip. “Anyone else?”

“Oh! Remember that girl who worked at Video Village? With the pink hair and all the piercings?” Adore grinned slyly, starting to have fun with this walk down memory lane.

“Her?!” This one, Courtney didn’t seem to appreciate, but Adore just shrugged.  

“Yeah! She was hot.”

Courtney took another thoughtful sip from the bottle before asking, “Have you ever liked a boy?”

“I used to try to make myself like boys,” Adore said. “Or, imagine that I did. But it was always just some dumb pop star or something. Like...remember Ashley Parker Angel?”

“No. Who?!” Courtney looked utterly confused, brow furrowed.

“The blond from O-Town.”

“O-Town!” Courtney giggled gleefully, a hiccup escaping her as she passed the bottle back to Adore. “Omigod. You had their picture on your binder and no one could figure out why.”

“Yeah, I know. Their music was terrible,” Adore admitted.

“They made music?”

Adore laughed, shaking her head.  

“And god, even my fake crushes were dudes with girl names…”

This made Courtney giggle some more, holding her pillow tighter. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment.

“What about you?” Adore asked.

Courtney’s eyes popped back open.

“What about me?”

“You ever like a girl?” Adore teased, poking her in the ribs. Fully expecting her to squeal in disgust, or burst out laughing.

But instead, Courtney looked back at her and said, “Besides you?”

Adore stared back at her for a long, heated moment. A million thoughts swirled in her head, but none so strong as the realization that Courtney was just fucking around, making her pay for her teasing. Adore started to laugh, shaking her head.

“Good one, bitch.”

Overcome with an impulse she couldn’t ignore, Courtney leaned forward and pressed her lips to Adore’s. And for a moment, it was perfect—Adore’s soft lips against hers, breath sweet and smoky from the drinks. And then Courtney felt a hand on her shoulder, shoving her backward.

Courtney clapped a hand over her mouth. What was wrong with her? This was exactly how she’d fucked things up last time. Her cheeks blazed red.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I know,” Adore said hoarsely.

Courtney’s eyes filled with tears, terrified that this time, she’d fucked up for good.

“Are you mad?” she whispered.

“No.” Adore shook her head, giving a wry smile and reaching forward to pry the bottle from her fingers. “But you’ve probably had enough of this.”

Courtney let out a relieved chuckle, tension leaving her body as she laid back down against the bean bag chair. Things were okay; they were still friends and everything was back to normal. Or at least, as normal as possible.

“Dory?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you snuggle with me?” she asked, voice soft and tentative.

Adore turned to her friend, giving a gentle nod, saying “Of course,” before curling up beside her.

For a second, as she breathed in, Adore realized that Courtney must have switched shampoos. The scent of her hair was different, and the unfamiliarity of it gave Adore a strange pang of sadness.

But then, as they settled in some more, Adore realized that lingering beneath the surface was something she knew very well, something innately her that would never go away, no matter what perfumes she might use. And that, the sameness, was enough to make her smile to herself, arms wrapping tightly around Courtney as she pulled her in close.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Be Quiet For Me {One-Shot}***

Chris Evans x Reader

Words: 3.3K

Warning: Smut. NSFW. Cursing.

Summary: You’re in the mood for some fun. Chris has to work; he tells you to give him a few hours. You are impatient and decide to have your fun anyway.

Note: Song listened to, that you might want to listen to when indicated is; Madness By: Ruelle. I also apologize for any spacing issues.

**Slightly Edited/Proofread**

***Interactive***

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤️❤️❤

~~~~~~~~~~~

MSG: I miss you.😞

Sitting in your office, twirling in your chair you looked at your phone and waited for him to respond. You watched the sway of the beautiful weeping willow tree that was right outside your window. You’d chosen this room for your office because of that tree. Every time the wind blew you the hanging branches of the tree swayed and reminded you of a slow dance. You imaged classical music playing, and that made it even better. You didn’t have to imagine classical music because it was playing in your office as it usually was. The mellow sounds helped you work and kept your stress levels down.

 MSG Chris: How? I’m less than fifty feet away.

You smirked. He was right. Right now, he was across the house in his office—working.

MSG: I know, but you’re so far. Come here.🙁🙁

You added a few sad faces to emphasis how much you really missed him. Almost a minute passed before his response came in.

MSG Chris: I can’t right now, sweetheart. I’m still in the middle of this deal.

You pouted and sent him the crying emoji.

MSG: 😭 You’ve been doing that for hours. Take a break. Please. I can make it worth your while.😈😈😈

Before sending it, you added three devil face emojis. You knew the devil face emoji would get your point across. Another minute passed without a response. You were getting annoyed. You hated when it took longer than a few seconds. When his message came in all he sent was the smirking face emoji. Sitting up, you crinkled your brow, wondering what the hell that meant. Another few seconds passed then another message.

MSG Chris: I have no doubt you can make it worth my while, but whenever you make it worth my while, I end up losing four hours at least. I need to finish this first. Give me a few hours. I’ll come find you. Promise.🤞🏼

It was not the response you wanted. He’d been busy the last week or two on this same deal. He was in town, but his days were filled with meetings, and when he was home, he was still in those meetings, and always on the phone. You knew this deal meant a lot to him; it would mean incredible things for his newly established production company. After ending his stint as Captain America and taking some time off he realized he loved acting, but he also loved behind the scenes work.

He’d always wanted to do something in production but always put off having a company because he felt he had no businesses doing that. Thanks to your pushing, he finally decided to do it, and the buzz was incredible. Turns out while many people were lining up to work with him as a costar, just as many were lining up to work with him as a producer and director. You were proud, prouder than any wife could be. You also knew this was your fault.

MSG: You’re neglecting your wife.

Two full minutes passed with no response, and it made you antsy. You stood from your chair and paced your office while scanning your email and checking updates to your own company. Maybe you should focus on work like him instead of trying to get into his pants. Every time you checked your texts for a response you may have missed, you got annoyed to see there was no. He’d left you on read. When you checked it didn’t even say he’d read it. You were left on received. You didn’t know which made you more annoyed. You tossed your phone to your desk and groaned. That was when your defiant, bratty side took over.

“If Goliath can’t come to the mountain, the mountain has to go to Goliath.”

 Prancing out your office and down the hall toward your husband’s office, the smile on your face spoke volumes. You were about to put a major dent in his work schedule, and you gave zero fucks. When you rounded the corner you saw his office door open, but he was not behind his desk. After scanning the room and coming up empty-handed, you walked out and began searching for your elusive husband.

 He wasn’t in your bedroom, or the kitchen, or the dining room. After almost ten minutes of searching, you were ready to give up, but then you spotted him in the media room. The closer you got, the more you could hear him talking to himself as he scrolled through his tablet. You leaned on the jamb and watched him. You loved looking over him from the back. His shoulders were broad, which contrasted with his taut waist and tight ass. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, and your hands itched to touch. The navy blue pants he wore really fit him well and showed just what an amazing ass he had. He turned and gave you the view of the front. His white button-down was rolled up at the sleeves to his forearms and unbuttoned a few buttons, which gave you a nice glimpse of his tattoos. He was the perfect mix of country club heir, and down to earth hunk.

 “Eh-em!”

 Chris’s head snapped up. His eyebrows were knitted together as if he were thinking deeply about something and his jaw was clenched. Once he saw you his features softened.

 “Hey, baby.” Two words, that was all it took to make you melt. You hated it. Shaking off the effect of his words you hardened your expression.

 “Don’t baby me. I sent you a message over fifteen minutes ago, Evans,” you sternly chastised. Chris dug into his pocket and lifted his phone.

 “Oops, I’m sorry honey, I didn’t see it.”

 You crossed your arms and scowled. He smiled softly.

 “Neglecting? That’s a bit much, don’t you think?

 “Christopher Evans, it has been a week since you’ve given me the time of day,” you protested.

 “A week? Babe, we had dinner last night right here, just the two of us. You had my full attention.”

 “Okay, but after dinner, you were back in your stupid office. I went to bed—alone, alone.”

 Once he got your meaning, he smirked and walked to the sectional and sat. “Oh you mean that kind of attention.”

 “We said we’d never go longer than three days max. It has been seven.”

 “You’re keeping track.” The narrowing of your eyes wiped his stupid grin off his face. He sighed and placed the tablet to the side.

 “Come here, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes and looked to the side while staying put. This would not be easy.

 “Come on, kitten, come to daddy.” Reluctantly your smile emerged, and you walked to him. Once before him, he pulled you onto his lap, which allowed him to wrap his arms around your waist.

 “I know it’s been pretty hectic the last few weeks. I know I’ve been busy. I’m sorry if you feel I’ve been neglecting you. It’s not my intention. Forgive me.”

 His blue eyes hypnotized you and pulled you in. Then when he added the puppy dog pout you couldn’t stay mad.

 “Fine.”

 His lips met yours for a chaste kiss then turned soft and sensual in a matter of seconds. Heat spread through you, and just like that, you wanted him right here and right now. Chris must have tasted the need in your kiss because his hand dropped to your backside before he squeezed. You moaned on him and dug your fingers into his hair not caring if you messed up his perfectly coiffed locks.

 Chris broke the kiss and dipped his lips to your neck, where he teased your skin and fanned the flames making them blaze even hotter. You could feel his arousal twitching against your thigh, and you made your move. Slinking down between his legs you quickly undid his belt and pants. He lifted slightly, allowing you to pull them down to settle at his ankles. You saw his manhood straining against the soft fabric of his underwear, and you wasted no time hooking your finger in the waistband and pulling them down to join his pants.

 His length bobbed before you. You couldn’t believe it had been a week since you’d been this close to it. Just before you could bring your lips to his member his phone rang. You groaned and gave him the evil eye daring him to look at or even touch his phone. Chris gave you an apologetic look, and you could tell he was tempted to answer. He also knew you were probably very close to losing your shit. After the third ring the pressure was too much for him.

 “I’m sorry, baby, give me two minutes.” Quickly he grabbed the phone and answered it to your disdain. You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly and dropped your head to his thigh trying to remain calm. You were so close to just taking what you wanted.

 As he spoke, he grabbed the tablet beside him, and you knew this would not be a two-minute conversation. At that moment you decided fuck it. You stood before him, but he didn’t look at you, his face was buried in that damn tablet. You began untying the knot at the front of your wrap dress then opened it and allowed it to fall to the floor. Chris’ words stumbled then stalled as he stared at the pool of bright pink material at your feet. Slowly his eyes traveled up your body. They stopped at your white lacy panties then again at your matching bra. When his eyes met yours he sighed. While the clench in his jaw said “stop and behave,” the fire in his eyes said “please keep going.”

 When spoke again, it took great effort to look away from you and back to his tablet. You looked to his lap and saw he was still hard. He must have liked what he saw. You smirked and walked to the sound system and took up one of the Bluetooth headphones and messed around with the music device on the wall, and found a song you loved. You began swaying to the spellbinding beat which made it impossible to not wind your hips to. You turned back to him but didn’t look at him. Instead, you slid your hands up the sides of your thighs to your hips over your stomach and across your breasts. Once there you softly cupped them. It was then you looked at him. You had his full attention and had his jaw clenched even tighter.

 Fighting the smile that wanted freedom, you began to fully enjoy the music. It didn’t take long for you to get lost in it, and it also didn’t take long for Chris to have difficulty with remaining focused on his conversation and whatever he was looking at on his tablet. His eyes kept drifting back to you when he’d looked down. It was amusing. You turned your back to him and bent down to touch your toes. That made him gawk at your ass. When you peered at him through your open legs you winked, and you saw his length jerk. You stood and approached him standing between his legs and slithered your body like a snake in perfect Shakira belly dance form. His eyes were glued to your hips as you did it. When you saw his teeth sink into his bottom lip you knew you had him. Still he fought it though.

 You turned your back to him and began winding your waist again, but you slowly dipped down to sit on his length. A strained groan escaped him then his hand was at your hips to give you a terse squeeze. You knew it was a warning. You didn’t care. You rotated your hips on his lap to the rhythm of the music. You bent forward and held onto your ankles and stood then dropped back to his lap and repeated the action a few times. Each time his hand squeezed the flesh where your pelvis and thigh met. You felt so much power knowing he was at your mercy. It was addictive, and you decided to forge ahead.

 Turning to him again, you dropped to your knees before him and dipped down enough so his dick was right before you where your nose was. For him you knew the view would be torture because all he could see were your eyes. Again, Chris nudged his hips up sending his sack to tap on your chin. His skin was scorching. You tipped your tongue out and teased the skin at the base of his dick where his balls began. Not a sound passed his lips, but the fire in his eyes intensified. You traveled your tongue up his length to his tip and swirled it around before you sucked his head into your mouth while keeping perfect eye contact. His mouth was in an “o” but still he was silent. Slowly you inched your mouth lower sheathing him inside the warm, wet tunnel of your mouth before you squeezed him in the tight passage of your throat. It was then Chris growled.

 “No, I’m sorry, got a little prick. Continue, please.”

 You wanted to laugh; it definitely wasn’t a little prick. Chris cupped your jaw, forcing you to stop momentarily. He shook his head, but you took his hand from your jaw and put it back onto his tablet to join the other and continued. Deciding not to take it slow, you began bobbing up and down on his need  --every time you brought him further into your mouth ensuring to keep your throat tight. As you did he lurched up, sending his hardness deeper and his nostrils flaring.

 Before long, you’d found a stimulating pace that worked well with the beat in the headphones, and you’d lost yourself. You loved giving him head, he was always so responsive, and you loved the feel and taste of him. You picked up the pace when the crescendo of the song picked up and saw the tight clench of his fist beside him. You hadn’t even realized he was only holding the tablet with one lose hand. He wasn’t even looking at it. You had his undivided attention. It was time to assert dominance. You slinked him into your throat and kept him there as you tightened it around him. Chris began to shake, and you knew he was dangerously close. You didn’t want a mouthful of him though; you wanted to feel him fill you up.

 Standing, you swayed again to the song and slowly spun around to grind your hips as you slowly lowered onto his lap. You didn’t take him in; you rotated on his lap giving him a short lapdance. Chris’ hand was at your back slowly trailing along your spine. You then felt him push your forward. You dropped your head between your legs and stood. His soft hands caressed your backside. You knew you were soaking wet, and you couldn’t wait another minute. You pulled your underwear to the side and lowered yourself onto him while looking back at him. His mouth dropped open as a pained expression took over. The lower you slide, the more his eyebrows knitted together. Once you’d taken all of him he dropped his head back to look into the ceiling. You ground on him, giving him a full three-sixty feel of your walls—walls he stretched like no other.

 You tried to keep your moans inside as you began bouncing on him. You were close, that was how on edge you’d been this last week. By the way Chris was pulsating inside you; you knew he was close too. You leaned back onto his chest and dropped your head back over his shoulder and moved your body in a frenzied wave. You saw the bright rainbow of your release just ahead, and you began the chase. You felt Chris’ hand splay across your abdomen and then slip between your legs. His fingers expertly played with your clit sending you closer and closer to the rainbow. He must have known it; his hand clasped over your mouth then he stood holding you around the waist as well and shoved you onto the sectional. You hugged the back of the seat when you felt him slam into you with the strength of a mack truck. His hand across your mouth stifled the sound that slipped out. You felt his hot breath at your ear before you heard his low, predatorial like whisper.

 “Not one sound, kitten.”

 He didn’t give you time to adjust at all; he slammed into you, again and again, each thrust rougher and deeper than the last. His grip tightened around your hips, and your eyes saw his phone beside you on the couch, it was on speaker. Thanks to the music in your ears you didn’t hear the other party. Chris changed his pace and depth every so often to keep your body on high alert, and it made you want more and more. He knew it. Then he delivered the pounding you’d been craving for the entire week. His deepness was overwhelming, and you desperately wanted to scream his name, so you buried your mouth into the cushion and bit down on it. Chris grabbed your hair and pulled it then ground his hips into you. He’d lost his control. When you felt him jackhammer into you with deep stroke after deep stroke you knew he was chasing the same rainbow.

 After one, two, three strokes, he administered a final knock you out for the count snap of his hips, and your damn broke. You could feel Chris shaking behind you as he emptied stream after stream of his hot come deep inside you. He bent over your back and rested his forehead on you as he tried to catch his breath. Chris placed soft kisses across your skin, leading to your neck before he kissed your ear. Then he pulled from your body and dropped back onto the couch. You could barely move; you felt amazing. When you looked at him he was staring at you with a look that said he wasn’t done with you. You peeled off the headphones just in time to hear the other party on the phone.

 “Are you there, Chris? Did we lose you?”

 “Not at all, I’m right here. Everything you guys are discussing sounds good.”

 You could hear several other voices, and it dawned on you then he was in a group conference. Slowly you stood from the couch and looked over him. The sight of his still hard dick made you want him again. It jerked, and you knew he knew what you wanted. He dropped his head back onto the couch as he continued to speak. You languidly walked through your home in your bra and panties making your way to your office. Once inside you dropped into your swivel chair and smiled enjoying the pleasant hum in your body that no one else but your husband could give you.

 Your phone chimed, and you took it up from the desk.

 MSG: One hour, make sure you are on the bed just as you are now with your legs spread. I haven’t nearly had my fill.

 You smiled wider because you hadn’t either. A week was a long time to make up for.

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[missmalice202]

Designing Your Melody: Chapter 04 - Chocolate

Chapter 01 - Chapter 03

“All right, mate?” Luka looks up from his guitar and sees Jagged Stone, rock star extraordinaire, poking his head into the recording studio. “Something’s got your sound all mixed up. So tell me,” he cajoles as he strides into the room, brimming with confidence and larger than life, “what’s got your knickers in a twist, eh?”

Luka stills his fingers and gives his attention the other man now sitting on a stool in front of him. He could literally feel Jagged staring at him, a look of unabashed anticipation on his face. Running his fingers through his teal tipped black hair, he closed his eyes and sighed.

He’d tried not dwell on how utterly frustrated he was. It’s been almost a week since his fateful encounter with his new inspiration, but he’s no closer to finding her. All he has is the mysterious melody playing on an infinite loop in his head and the scrap of paper that he now carries with him everywhere he goes, tucked securely in his jacket pocket. He isn’t sure where to even begin to start looking for the girl. After some serious thought, he contemplated asking Juleka if she would know how to track down a certain fashion designer because if the drawing he had in his possession was any indication, she was obviously very skilled and therefore had to be well known in the fashion industry.

But unfortunately for the guitarist, by the time he had worked up the courage to ask his sister to do some investigating on his behalf, she had been booked for a photoshoot overseas and had left the country. Sometimes he just had the worst luck. Plus, between doing deliveries in the morning and getting some studio time with Jagged to prepare for his next album, he honestly really didn’t have the time to be hunting down a single girl out of the two million residents of Paris. The odds were not in his favor.

In the end, he had resigned himself to the fact that he’d have to wait until Juleka came back and then ask her for help. Until then, the only thing he could do was tweak her melody and keep her design safe. He’s sure their paths will cross again. They had to.

“Nothing has my ‘knickers in a twist’ as you so delicately put it. I’ve just got some stuff on my mind, is all.” His fingers pluck at the strings of his guitar restlessly, the notes contradicting him wordlessly.

“Sorry to tell ya this, bloke, but that guitar of yours is callin’ you a liar. Level with me, man, anything I can do to help a rockin’ musician like yourself out, just let me know. We’ve gotta get that sound of yours back in harmony.”

“Yeah,” Luka responded listlessly, “I know, Jagged. Thanks.”

Luckily, they were interrupted by a knock on the window separating the recording studio from the control booth, signaling that the producer was ready for them to begin their session. The last think Luka wanted was to be interrogated by the flamboyant rocker, regardless of how well meaning he was.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

After their recording session was over, Luka decided to grab something to eat before heading back home to log in and get some grinding done in-game. However, he seemed to have acquired an extremely obnoxious and over-eager shadow.

“I’m telling ya, mate, that’s some of the best playing I’ve heard since I worked with your mum. You could become a superstar if you set your mind to it.” Being ambitious and hungry for attention, someone like Jagged Stone just couldn’t understand that there were some people who preferred to linger in the shadows.

“I’m happy just playing my music, to be honest. I don’t have any grand ambitions of stardom.” A small smile graced Luka’s lips. “I don’t want a record label to try to dictate what I play or how I sound. I don’t mind playing your music because it speaks to my soul, but I want my freedom when it comes to my own music”

Jagged threw his head back and laughed, holding his stomach in mirth. “I feel ya, mate. There’s times I wanna kick some of these record labels prats out on their arses. They have no respect for the artistic process. I can’t just snap my fingers and deliver a chart- topping song. It takes talent and dedication and, most importantly, they gotta feel it in their soul!

“Oh! That reminds me! Penny!” he called over his shoulder at his ever present and long suffering personal assistant, “I want you to send some chocolates or flowers or whatever it is that girls these days like to Marinette. That girl is fabulous and dedicated to her craft and I want her to know how much I appreciate her help.” She nodded, tucking a stray piece of her sleek burgundy hair behind her ear and took out her tablet, tapping a reminder in her notes.

That caught Luka’s undivided attention. The Jagged Stone he knew wasn’t the kind of guy who just gave other people presents. If anything, he expected other people to do things for him, without a seconds hesitation or complaint. For him to go out of his – or rather, his assistant’s – way to offer a gesture of appreciation was, quite frankly, unheard of!

“Who’s this Marinette girl?” he asks. “What did she do for you that was so important that you’d want to send her a gift?”

Jagged reeled back in shock. “Oh, what hasn’t she done for me? Whenever everything goes pear shaped and I’m in a pinch, I know I can count on her to help me out. I mean, one time she made the wicked rock n roll shades for me. Another time, she basically saved my career when she redid my album cover after the bloke who did the first design wouldn’t accept any of my input and came up with this absolutely bonkers cover art. And now this time, she’s really saving my skin. I had to ask a massive favor of her and in such a short amount of time too.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I just want her to know that I appreciate her style and all that fabulous girl does to help me when I’m in a bind.”

Honestly, Luka was a bit surprised. Jagged usually wasn’t one to sing another’s praises, so this “Marinette” girl must really be something special.

Luka looked at his phone to check the time. “Well, Jagged, I’ve got to run. I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”

“Cheers, mate. I’ll catch you next time.” Jagged saluted the younger guitarist. “Do what you need to in order to fix your sound. It’s doesn’t sound right when it’s all jumbled up like that.”

Luka waved goodbye and left the record label, heading home to his boat.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

When got back to home, the quiet slapping of waves against the hull of the boat was the only sound he heard as he strode across the deck, taking a moment to appreciate the beautiful sunset reflecting over the Seine. It was kind of lonely being the only one on board. He couldn’t wait until his sister got back in a few days. Until then, he’d just have to fill the silence in other ways. Shaking his head at his own melancholy, he ducked into the cabin and made his way to his bunk.

Deciding that he needed to find his center again after such a chaotic week, he toed off his sneakers, settled onto his bunk, crossed his legs and gently rested his wrists on his knees to meditate. Maybe that was why he had been so off lately; he just needed to clear his mind and get rid of the negative energies swirling inside his mind. Taking a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and relaxed into his meditation.

Thirty minutes later, he opened his eyes feeling refreshed and less off balance.

Glancing at his phone again, he figured he had time to get some gaming in before heading to bed. With any luck, Ladybug would be online too. He liked playing with the rest of his clanmates, don’t get him wrong, but Ladybug was just such a badass. Her skill was unparalleled and when they were in the midst of an intense battle, she took command of the situation and always led their team to victory. She fought with grace and made everything she did look effortless. If he were honest with himself, he just enjoyed being in her company. She had such a sweet voice that even when she was barking out orders on the battlefield, she still sounded as clear as a bell.

After logging on, he was pleasantly surprised to discover that luck, for once, was on his side: she was online. That was a relief, especially considering she’d been MIA all week due to being busing working on whatever project she had going. Deep down, he was a little jealous that “real life” was dragging her away from the UMS4, and therefore away from him. But he did have to admit that it was a bit hypocritical of him to be jealous of her being busy when he was bordering on obsession with finding someone who, if he didn’t currently have her design tucked into the pocket of his jacket, he would have thought that the whole encounter had been an extremely vivid figment of his overactive imagination.

Walking up to her avatar, his own waved in greeting. “Hey, Ladybug. Just you and I tonight, huh?”

Her avatar waved in response. “Hi, Viperion. Looks like it. Want to do some grinding and work on equipment upgrades since we don’t have enough people on our team right now to do any major missions?”

He smiled and his avatar gave a thumbs up gesture. “Sounds good. Let’s go”

As they traversed through their online world, she struck up conversation to fill the silence. “So what have you been up to this week? Anything fun and exciting?”

He chuckled softly. “Not exactly. Just working and practicing. How about you? How’s your project coming along?”

Her groan echoed in his ears, making him laugh under his breath. “Oh god, I’ve been working non stop since I last played with you. Five days, working ‘round the clock without even leaving my house. I’m pretty sure my parents were about to send a search party up to my room to check and see if I was still breathing,” she laughed.

“Oh? You still live with your parents?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “We have a very good relationship, so it works out well for us. I help them out with their shop from time to time when I have time and they give me food.”

Luka laughed, shaking his head. Sometimes she really was too cute. “That’s nice. I live with my mom and sister, but they’re out of the country right now, so it’s just me. I never thought I’d think this, but with them gone, it’s too quiet here and the music in my head is a bit overwhelming in the silence.”

There was a brief pause before she responded, “the music in your head?” He could hear the confusion in her voice.

“Yeah, I’ve had this song stuck in my head for almost a week now and I can’t get it out of my head until I find what I’m looking for.”

“Uhh- Okaay, I’m not sure what you mean, but I wish you the best of luck finding what you’re looking for.” He heard her yawn audibly through his headphones. “And on that note, I’ve got to go. I have to get up early to help my parents with their shop since I have some time before the next phase of my project.”

A little disappointed that he wouldn’t get to spend more time with Ladybug, but he understood that she had prior commitments. “All right. Will you be on tomorrow at all? I had fun just messing around with you tonight.”

“I should be able to get on for a few hours tomorrow night. I had fun too,” she admitted. “Well, goodnight, Viperion.”

Smiling softly, he replied, “Sweet dreams, Ladybug.” And logged off himself.

-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-xXx-

Turning her console off, Marinette plugged her controller into the charge cable and turned off her desk light. Stretching her arms over her head as she walked over to the ladder leading to the loft where her bed was located, she giggled as when she realized that she had learned more about Viperion in that one conversation than she had in the months she had been playing with him since he’d joined “Miraculous Kwami”. She enjoyed playing with him. He was just so calm and collected, completely relaxed even in the most stressful situations. There were many occasions where his level head had really helped keep her calm enough to figure out how to defeat an especially tricky boss. Plus, it didn’t hurt in the slightest that his voice was really hot. Idly, while she changed into her pajamas, she wondered if his face matched his voice.

Shaking her head, she thrust that thought right out of her mind. Online was online and reality was reality. It wouldn’t do to confuse the two. For all she knew, he was a 45 year old bald man with a pot belly and a handlebar moustache. Shuddering at the thought, she shook her head again and made the decision to just leave things as they were. There are just some things that are better of not knowing.

Chapter 05

*Not going to lie, I had a lot of fun writing Jagged Stone. I also tried to stuff in as much British slang as I possibly could while still having it sound relatively natural.

Oh, and if you want to understand a little bit what Luka’s music sounds like when he’s confused and stressed out, this is what I listened to when I wrote the first scene of this chapter.

Until next time Lovelies XOXO*

[badsext]

For Asgard! : Klaus x Valkyrie

⚠️: Smut

Klaus is rifling through some antiques in Reginald’s study when he comes upon a strange object, a golden geometric sculpture with interlocking shapes like pieces of a puzzle. Klaus immediately thinks of pawning it for cash, but then he hears something. At first he thinks he’s imagining it, but the object is humming. He picks it up and attempts to rearrange the pieces, but it won’t budge.

“Where’s the goddamn off button?,” he mumbles to himself. He struggles with it a bit more before giving up and throwing it against the wall. It comes to rest on the floor and produces a clicking sound before going silent. Assuming he must have broken it, he stoops to pick it up. Then a bright beam of refracted light comes streaming out of a small hole in the top. The light is so intense it makes him shut his eyes tight.

When Klaus opens his eyes the study is gone and he is standing on an open road by the sea. A pickup truck swerves to avoid him. It’s not unlike the time a mysterious stolen suitcase transported Klaus into the Vietnam war. Fortunately, this time his destination is a peaceful fishing port. The sign reads ‘New Asgard’ and in the distance he spies a pub. “Eh, what the fuck,” he says to himself. Klaus lights a cigarette, shoves the puzzle device into his pocket, and marches into town.

The bar is full of fishermen, drinking and chatting amongst themselves. No one even blinks at Klaus as he saunters up to the bar. He orders whisky then rotates himself 360 degrees on the barstool to take in his new surroundings.

He observes the woman resting on her elbows at the other end of the bar looks like she could kick his ass, which was exactly Klaus’ type when it comes to women. And she is gorgeous. Her thick utilitarian clothing and dour expression can’t hide it.

“The sea was plentiful today, your majesty.” A robust bearded man hails her as he collects his drinks from the bar.

“Aye, Harek. I’ll drink to that!,” the woman smiles and lifts her beer stein, then goes back to her beverage. Klaus leans in, his mind full of questions.

“Excuse me, barkeep? Where am I?”

“New Asgard.”

“Well, yes, that was on the sign, but…What year is it? What is today’s date.”

“Are you alright, my friend?”

“Just tell me.” Klaus insists.

“Tuesday, May 10th, 2023…and it’s just about noon.”

“Oh, boy,” Klaus’ eyes grow bigger as he fishes around in his coat pocket for payment.

“I’ve got this one, Bjorn. Put it on my tab.” It is the beautiful woman from the end of the bar. She looks Klaus over, commenting with a soft, ambiguous grunt.

“Many thanks for the drink, your majesty.” Klaus opens his coat like a dress and curtsies.

Valkyrie stifles a chuckle. “You can skip the formalities. That’s just Harek, he’s stuck in the old traditions. I am Brunhilde, last Valkyrie of Asgard, and king of New Asgard, but you can call me Val. What’s your name, stranger?”

“I am Klaus, 4th son of Hargreeves and irresistible bad boy at your service.” He winks. “If I may, why is the monarch of a small country drinking in a pub at noon on a Tuesday?”

“No, you may not,” she snorts. “But today is your lucky day because I’m bored and this ale makes me chatty.” Klaus moves to the empty stool next to hers and rests his chin in his hand, ready for Val to spill the tea. “I was part of a squadron of fighters, the Valkyrie, defenders of Asgard, but I am the last. My sisters in arms were slaughtered in battle including the one I loved. Her voice trails off for a moment as she stares off into the distance. “Then Asgard was destroyed.”

“Moon exploded by a telekinetic?” Klaus offers a guess.

Val furrows her brow at him. “Fire giant. The people of this town are the survivors of genocide and I am their leader. THAT is why I drink. What’s your story, Klaus?”

“I grew up in a family with superpowers and I’ve got the worst one. I communicate with the dead, and yes, that’s just as much fun as it sounds! I was kidnapped by assassins and tortured, escaped back in time to the Vietnam war where I fell in love with a soldier who died in my arms. Then my siblings and I tried to stop the apocalypse and failed. We’ve traveled back in time…let me see…six times now? We always manage to fuck it up. That’s why I drink.”

Valkyrie tips back the last of her ale and slams the empty stein on the bar, then holds up two fingers. “Shots for me and this miserable bastard!” The shots arrive and Valkyrie clinks her glass with Klaus.’

“Have I started to grow on you?,” he asks, making the shot disappear down his throat.

“The jury’s still out,” she replies, following suit.

Klaus stands up and walks over to the juke box. “Hey, you got a quarter?”

Valkyrie tosses him the coin. He snatches it out of the air with precision that surprises them both. He makes a selection, then comes shimmying back to the opening chords of ‘Immigrant Song.’ Valkyrie smiles. “You’re kidding me, right?”

Klaus shakes his head “iiieeeaaaaahhhh!,” he sings along, pleading with her to join him on the dance floor. She obliges, reluctantly at first, moving to the music, enchanted by Klaus’ goofy charm. The song fades. Something slower begins to play. Valkyrie captures Klaus by the collar and pulls him in close. Her rich brown eyes search his green ones.

“I’d like to take you home and….,"she reaches down and wraps her hand firmly around the bulge in his pants. He shudders in anticipation. Valkyrie tosses some money on the bar and heads for the door, pulling Klaus behind her.

“Don’t wait up,” he announces to no one in particular.

Valkyrie takes Klaus back to her modest cottage not far from the rocky shore. They stand at the foot of her bed. She removes her vest, then starts working on his belt.

“Your majest- um, Val?…I love the fisherman gear: puffy vest, rubber boots, cable knit sweater…it’s hot, but I was wondering if you had anything tighter…perhaps made of leather?” He bites his finger, anxiously awaiting her response.

Valkyrie narrows her eyes at him. “Alright, pretty boy, but be careful what you wish for.” She disappears into the closet and emerges wearing her armor. Klaus’ jaw drops.

“Does this excite you?” She rips open his shirt to feel his heart.

His breath catches in his throat. “Y-you didn’t mention it had a cape!”

Val kisses his neck and whispers sensuously in his ear, “I also have a pegasus.”

“Oh dear god.” His eyes fall shut and his head rolls back.

“Enough talk.” She rips off the rest of his clothes. “Down on the bed.”

Klaus lays down facing her. He watches her lustful eyes roving his body’s topography, but then her expression snaps back to one of severity. “Roll over,” she says. His face lights up. He rolls onto his stomach with his face in the pillow. Val slaps his tight little ass. “Mmm…,” Klaus relishes the sting. Val soothes his sensitive pink cheek with a caress. Klaus lifts his pelvis up to make room for his stiffened cock.

Val reaches under the bed for one of her toys. This one has Klaus’ name on it. She turns it on. Klaus immediately recognizes that sound. He perks up and practically wiggles with excitement. She glides the toy over his ass. His skin has goosebumps. She pauses to put a bit of lube on the tip then she uses it to stimulate his tight little hole. “Oh!,” he shudders at the sensation. “Are you ready for me, pretty boy?”

“Yes.” He is breathless. The waiting is so hard. She slowly inserts the toy. Klaus whimpers and groans until she is fully inside him. She increases the vibration. “Ah,”. Klaus pushes back against her hand. She pulls him by the hair so she can see his face while she fucks him. His face is twisted in pleasure and pain, only seconds from release. She turns off the toy, takes it out. “Don’t you come until I tell you to.” She scolds. “Only good boys get to come.”

“Oh, I promise to be a good boy. I do.”

She pulls off her armor and lies back with her head resting high on a stack of pillows. “Shut up and satisfy me with that pretty mouth.”

“It would be my pleasure, your majesty…For Asgard!.” He dives between her legs to devour her. His tongue glides over her clit, back and forth. His lips wrap around her most sensitive flesh to suckle her throbbing bundle of nerves. He sinks two fingers inside her. She moans, grabbing the back of his head. He takes the encouragement and focuses his movements. She comes in spectacular fashion, crying out and squeezing his head between her muscular thighs. He rises with traces of her essence on his chin. “Was I a good boy?”

“A very good boy.” She flips him over on his back and takes his cock in her hand. She pumps it a few times until it is fully erect. Her other hand slides over his smooth chest up to his neck. She looks into his eyes to gage his reaction. He whimpers and bites his lip, his sparkling green eyes pleading. Her fingers wrap tighter around his throat, squeezing with light pressure. Then she straddles him, sliding her slick pussy over the tip of his cock. He groans and bucks his pelvis. “Not yet, pretty boy. It’s sweeter if you suffer.”

She kisses him, drawing his bottom lip into her mouth and biting it gently. Then she rakes her teeth over his nipple. First one and then the other.

Klaus’ eyes roll back in his head. “Fuck,” he rasps.

Her hand grips tighter around his throat and the other rests against his chest as she lowers herself onto his cock. She bucks forward, slowly at first then picks up speed, her little tits bouncing as she rides. Klaus is in ecstasy, looking up at her in awe. Her brown skin glistens with the sweat of her labor. She leans into her climax, moaning and spasming with her eyes shut tight. When she regains control, she can see that Klaus is about to come, so she climbs off and grabs his wet cock. “Now, pretty boy. I want to watch you come.” She pumps him until he gushes over her hand and makes a mess of himself.

Her whole demeanor changes. She kisses him tenderly then runs off to the bathroom, returning with a warm damp hand towel and a dry one. He smiles up at her, cleaning himself off. She smiles back. “Looks like we manage rather well together, don’t we?”

“You are a goddess.”

Valkyrie laughs.

“What? What did I say?”

“Do remember us when you go back, will you?” She sits next to him nuzzling his ear.

“That’s the thing. I don’t know how to get back. In fact, I’m not a hundred percent sure how I got here.”

“You had the power all along. Just click your heels together three times. Haha! 'There’s no place like home.’”

“How can you be so cavalier? I might be stuck here!”

“Klaus, don’t be ridiculous!” She gets up, reaches into his coat, and tosses him the puzzle device.

“You’re going to have to show me how this thing works.”

“Might want to put your clothes on first.”

Master list

@elliethesuperfruitlover @miraclesoflove @bitch4bagels @bi-satanist @punknatch @ringpopdust @valkyries-for-valhalla @dandycandy75 @vinawyatt

[thisyearingaming]

1997 - This Year in Gaming

Muggins here was born in ‘97, and can’t really remember much of it, natch. But there were some good things released this year - I’ve played every one of these, and have missed so many more.

Diablo - Windows, January 3rd

We start with dungeon-crawl-em-up and well-loved out of season April Fool’s Joke, Diablo. I’ll be totally honest - I don’t like Diablo that much. It’s absolutely fine, I just can’t get into it. The writing, setting and characters are all very good especially since this year only marks the beginning of games being seen as a bit more adult and intelligent. Check out this gameplay from Hour of Oblivion on YouTube, and marvel at the faux-Scottish accent on Griswold the blacksmith.

Mario Kart 64 - Nintendo 64, February 10th

Compared to its more recent versions, Mario Kart 64 is a veritable bloody relic of the past - solid controls and a quirky style mean it’s still a crowd pleaser to this day, but you’d be hard pressed to find anyone right now that would die on the hill of it being their favourite single-player racing experience. It’s also got some of the deepest, impenetrable lore in any medium known to the human race - why exactly is Marty the Thwomp locked up here?

Blast Corps - Nintendo 64, February 28th

February’s position as most boring month of the year is shaken up a bit by having a uniquely designed Rare game slammed into its 28-day long face. Blast Corps is the puzzle-action game where you take control of several vehicles to destroy homes and buildings in order to prevent a nuclear warhead exploding in the coolest incarnation of Cold War politicking ever seen in a video game. Calling Blast Corps a “hidden gem” these days is like calling Celeste a hidden gem - it impresses nobody and makes you look like a dick. 

Turok: Dinosaur Hunter - Nintendo 64, March 4th 

The N64 was home to a surprisingly large number of above-average shooters despite its muddy graphics and small cartridge space - Turok is one of these, a great FPS game where you shoot the SHIT out of dinosaurs. Brett Atwood of Billboard said it was like Doom and Tomb Raider mixed - Doom Raider, if you will. I say it isn’t - there’s no demons, and there’s no polygonal breasts to poke dinosaurs’ eyes out with! 

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night - Sony PlayStation, March 20th

What is a retrospective? A miserable little pile of opinions. I’ve only recently played through SotN for the very first time on a TOTALLY LEGITIMATE copy with a CRT filter. Bloody good (geddit?) game, that takes the repetition of its predecessors, improves on it in basically every conceivable way, and combines it with special effects and graphics that even 23 years later had me going “ooh, that looks quite good!” Symphony’s music and audio design are wonderfully paired with a deeply enjoyable experience that’ll have you saying “mm, maybe just one more room?”

Tekken 3 - Sony PlayStation, March 20th

Also releasing from the Land of the Rising Sun that day was Tekken 3, which many believe is still one of the best fighters ever made. Tekken 3′s combat is so fast and responsive that it’s better than some games made today. T3 is also the best and easiest way to knock seven shades of absolute shite out of your friends without risking a massive head injury or a trip to the headmaster’s office... where you could also challenge him, but only if he plays as my favourite Not-Guile-or-Ken character in gaming, Paul. 

Sonic Jam - Sega Saturn, June 20th

The moment Sega realised that re-packaging old Mega Drive games would net them serious cash - although unlike later collections, this is a strictly Sonic affair, and has a neat little 3D world to run around in as a sort of hub world. Sonic X-Treme proved that Sonic Team would have to work hard at getting the fastest thing alive into 3D space properly: Jam is the sort of test ground for it too. It features some genuinely good emulation work for 1997, although it’s basically the gaming equivalent of going round to your grandparents at Christmas only for them to give you the exact same gifts you got in 1991, 1992 and 1994 but wrapped in a bow to make you think it’s different. What are you lookin’ at, you little blue devil?

Star Fox 64 - Nintendo 64, June 30th

So there’s this German company, right, called StarVox. Nintendo look at Europe and say “shit, we don’t want another lawsuit... after all, we’ve done three this year!”. So they give us in the PAL region the exciting title of Lylat Wars which as far as I know means absolutely fucking nothing in the context of the game. They’re still called Star Fox in-game too so what was the point? Anyway, fun 3D shooter with graphics that’ll make you do a barrel roll off the sofa and onto the power button to make the brown and green blurs a little easier on the eyes. Hello 2007, I’ve come back to make old references with you!

Carmageddon - Windows, July 30th

The game so scary it was BANNED in the UK! More like the game so fucking shit it was banned. Carmageddon is so deeply boring to play on PC that I can only imagine that Stainless Games made it tasteless by 90s standards simply to ramp up demand - much like another game we’ll be covering soon. 

Herc’s Adventures - Sony PlayStation, July 31st

“And they said Kratos was the best hero? Shish... they got it wrong, sister! Hercules is clearly better... he even has a coconut weapon.” A surprisingly fun overhead action game that most people only know for... well, I’ll just embed it.

Mega Man X4 - Sony Playstation, August 1st

A few years ago I tried playing every Mega Man game there is - I gave up at X3 because I was getting bored. Even still, Mega Man bores me - but at least the level design is good. Stay away from the Windows port. Pictured: me in the background yawning.

GoldenEye 007 - Nintendo 64, August 25th 

The name’s Intro. Overused intro which I also managed to fuck up twice through the deeply editable medium of text. GoldenEye is like the Seinfeld of console shooters - playing it nowadays you’re unlikely to be amazed but holy shit there’s some absolute greatness in this game. Every sound and every piece of music in GoldenEye is permanently seared into my brain - sometimes I’ll just hear Facility or Frigate in my head alongside the door opening sound and the gentle PEW of the PP7. I mean come on, fucking listen to this and tell me Grant Kirkhope isn’t cool as all hell.

LEGO Island - Windows, September 26th

The first open world experience I ever had was LEGO Island. It’s still quite good today, utterly deranged animation from the likes of the Infomaniac and Brickster - a cautionary tale for children that giving pizza to high-profile criminals is disastrous for the human LEGO race. 

Fallout - Windows, October 10th

War never changes, but franchises do. Fallout’s legendary status in the industry is exemplified in how different it feels. Yes, we had the game Wasteland nine years prior, but until September 97 there was nothing quite like Fallout. From the chilling introduction sequence showing the ruins of the United States to the tragic ending, Fallout is an exercise in pure human misery with the brightest spots of hope it can possibly muster thrown in for good measure. What begins as a tedious isometric point-and-click RPG ends as a minigun-wielding power fantasy, before your entire worth is stripped from you at the finish line. You have 500 days to find a water chip before it’s too late, but you’re constantly being fought by terrifying Super Mutants, irradiated animals, and the biggest monster of all - humanity. See what I did there? If anything, humanity in Fallout’s setting would be the greatest unifying force possible against the horror of the outside world. But how is it? It’s dull, it’s sluggish, and it’s really hard to get into even if you’re already a fan - but push through that and it’s worthwhile to see exactly how far the series got before Todd Howard said “eh fuck it” and had the whole thing dipped into an FEV vat.

Grand Theft Auto - Sony PlayStation, October 21st

To put it simply, the first in the GTA series is now nothing but a novelty. It has an irritating camera, wonky controls, poor graphics and deeply repetitive gameplay. But thank fuck it exists, because without it the Rockstar story may have been very different indeed. It’s quintessential cops and robbers gameplay, spanning across Liberty City, Vice City and San Andreas in one game, but with maps so far removed from their modern incarnations they may as well be named “Not New York, Possibly Bristol and Orange Town”. People really fucking hated Hare Krishnas in the 20th Century, didn’t they?

Crash Bandicoot 2: Cortex Strikes Back - Sony PlayStation, October 31

A hard one to talk about, honestly - it’s more Crash and better than the first one. It looks great, and Crash controls so well compared to his first outing. It’ll also keep you playing for 100%, fiendishly addictive and unashamedly difficult. Had a weird cover that moved with your head. 

PaRappa the Rapper - Sony PlayStation, November 17th

Type type type the words into the box! (Type, type, type - uh oh - the box?)

PaRappa is a gorgeously stylised rhythm game about rapping to steal the heart of the girl of your dreams - which involves learning karate, getting your driver’s license, selling bottle caps and frogs, making a cake, desperately trying not to shit yourself, and finally performing live on stage. Every one of its segments is so well-produced that they’d genuinely sell like ghost cookies in this era of shite rap. Notable for producing the greatest Jay-Z backing track ever made.

Sonic R - Sega Saturn, November 18th

Sonic R is absolutely FINE with vibrant textures, interesting levels, neat gimmicks and decent controls. But I’m gonna talk about its fucking AWESOME soundtrack by Richard Jacques and T.J. Davis, an eclectic mix of Europop and New Jack Swing - even thinking about it is bringing tears of absolute joy to my eyes hearing Super Sonic Racing in my head. You’ve got the main theme, Living in the City, Can You Feel the Sunshine, Back in Time, Diamond in the Sky, Work It Out and Number One - all of these are absolute club bangers and genuinely wouldn’t be out of place in a 90s disco. 

Tomb Raider II - Sony PlayStation, November 18th

Lara Croft returns to single-handedly endanger every species on Earth. TR2 is really good, the exploration and puzzle-solving aspects of the first game expanded upon here and the gunplay remaining just as punchy. Lara’s got a fully-functioning ponytail which absolutely boggles the fucking mind - a lot of work went into Lara’s hair for the 2013 reboot, so I can’t imagine the amount of man hours it took to get fluid(ish, come on, it’s the PS1 we’re talking about) hair movements in 1997. 

And really, that’s all I played from 1997. I’ve left out big hitters like Quake II, Gran Turismo and Diddy Kong Racing, but I simply haven’t formed an opinion on them yet. Maybe in a future post. 

Thanks for reading.

[imbellarosa]

1989 things that keep me up at night

Or, that one Taylor Swift album that I ADORE while it confuses the fuck out of me. I’m doing the thing that I listen to the album as I write this, because I have so much to say and want to get it all right. This isn’t a cold read, I’ve heard it before, and I love it, but I did want to do a deeper analysis. If you want to read the last one that I did, it’s here. It’s about an accidental love song and it was tons of fun to do. The rest of this analysis is under the cut, because it might be the longest one yet. I’m a big fan of hers. 

As always, I’m going to go back to posting more political content in the morning, but I am very happy that all four officers in the murder of George Floyd have been charged with murder, and that Derek Chauvin in particular is being charged with second degree murder. If you’re looking for next steps: consider participating in activism on Breonna Taylor’s birthday (June 5th) or donating to Tony McDade’s memorial fund. 

So, on to the album! There are a few stand out songs, for me, in the album, including “I Wish You Would”, “Clean”, “This Love”, “Out of the Woods”, and “You Are In Love”. I don’t know if any of these were singles - the album is older at this point and I could go check but, eh. I don’t really think it matters anymore? I think if I stretch my memory to 2014, it was “Bad Blood”, “Blank Space”, “Style”, “Out of the Woods”, and “Shake it Off” that were singles. I don’t know if there were more, but I do remember those. Something that I find interesting is that the only crossover between the singles (that I remember) and my favorites is “Out of the Woods”, but that’s a phenomenal song. 

I think the first question I have to address is why this album confuses me. And the more I think of it, the more I realize that this album more sounds like two albums, telling two stories. The first story is that of a whirlwind romance in the public eye, filled with late night hook ups, seeing other people (publicly), and a superficial connection that will invariably go down in flames. This story features dramatic fall outs with contemporary artists, wild parties, and whispering voices. The second story is about a harder love, and a deeper one: it’s a story of fighting and fixing things, and letting go and coming together. It’s sweet, and beautiful, and tragic, and worth it. And these stories are fundamentally incompatible, at first glance. Your relationship is not simultaneously ephemeral and ethereal, and if you think it is, it’s time to reevaluate how honest you are being with yourself and what you want in your partner. (Spoiler alert: the song “Style” isn’t it. And neither is “Wildest Dreams”. No offense to either song or the people they were written about.)

The more I thought about it, the more this bugged me - until I dug deeper into her discography, and I noticed something interesting: Taylor Swift is a storyteller. She primarily tells her own stories, especially in Lover and Reputation, but that wasn’t always the case: “Mary’s Song” is sung in first person, and is about her neighbors’ love story. “Starlight” was written about someone in the Kennedy family's relationship with her husband Bobby (Bobby’s name is in the song). It is also sung in first person. “Ronan” is a song she wrote for charity, about a little boy who lost his battle to cancer, from the perspective of his mother. I always cry when I hear it, but it is, also, written in first person. I think those are enough for now, but I definitely can keep going.

Anyways, my point is this - I realized very quickly there were two ways I could read the album. The first is completely autobiographically: she is publicly one person and privately another. Her public persona is (at the time of 1989′s release) someone who parties, dates many people on and off, and fights with artists loudly. The private story she is offering is of someone who is deeply in love with one person, who wants to be successful, who wants to be themselves and safe with themselves and their partner, and is afraid of showing this side of themselves to the industry and the world. “Out of the Woods” highlights that anxiety well, as does “I Know Places”, and so does the line “you two are in a snow globe spinning round and round” (in “You Are In Love”), but that’s because I always imagine a snow globe like a sort of transparent show that is being obscured by the flurries, you know? Like everyone is watching, but if you move, the truth gets harder to see. 

The second way to read this - and I think the way I’m leaning - is that these are two different stories. The first one is still about that media image, and she’s playing off of her media image - one that has been proven to be demonstrably false at this point, and that she has admitted was almost forced on her at a really young age (and we’re gonna have a whole ass conversation about how the media treats children one of these days, you just watch). And the second story is still a love story: it’s just not hers. To me, this makes the most sense because of her switch between first and second person pronouns in these softer, gentler songs, as she gently steps in and out of the role of narrator. The other thing is that I don’t know a whole lot of her dating history? I never really cared. But I don’t remember her being in a really serious long term relationship at this point. I remember a lot of stories of short relationships with famous people, but nothing concrete or long lasting, in the way the song “I Wish You Would” or “This Love” or “You’re In Love” suggests. 

This perspective is fortified by “I Know Places”, in which she is literally talking about a secret relationship. She’s describing something that is hiding in plain sight, but can’t be honest, because “something happens when everybody finds out/ love’s a fragile little flame/it can burn out...”. So they (the people involved) go hide in these secret places (look, let’s be real. every celebrity has a secret place). What I think is interesting is that this isn’t the first time in the album that she talks about sneaking around and hiding. The first time this comes up is in “Style”, where she mentions that the dude comes searching for her with “no headlights”. She is clearly referencing herself in that song, as she describes her “red lips” and her “good girl thing/in a tight little skirt”. But the context is super different. She describes “Style” as a song that calls out trends - how people never get tired of listening about this kind of relationship. It’s always in style, so to speak. When she talks about “I Know Places”, she says its “about...everybody’s like trying to get in to it and ruin a love or whatever and it’s like...whatever. You know....” and then she goes on to keep talking about what she wants it to sound like. I got this from her voice memo in the preliminary conversation with her producer. 

She also describes I know places as “dark”, and she wanted that to carry over into the bridge, and it definitely does. However, I can definitively tell you that this story (and relationship) is different than the one in “Style”, because of the end. By the end of the song, she says: “They take their shots, but we're bulletproof (I know places)/And you know for me, it's always you (I know places)/In the dead of night, your eyes so green (I know places)/And I know for you, it's always me (I know places)”.  (Look I usually remove the hyperlinks for the lyrics but I really need y’all to click that because it freaked me out when I saw it. Very uncomfy). In Style, her bridge says “Take me home”, or some variation of that, and she doesn’t have an outro for the song, she repeats her chorus again, which reads: “Oh, you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye/And I got that red lip classic thing that you like/And when we go crashing down (And when we go)/We come back every time/'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style”. So rather than being something private, this is something that everyone will be talking about for a while. 

SIDE NOTE: If you like “Style”, I think you’d really like the song “Sun Queen” by Gerry Cinnamon . It’s also about the expectation of the industry and how the art affects the artist. The difference in this song is that the relationship is the real part of his life, and his art is what he feels is fake. 

ANYWAYS. I think she did a really clever thing by playing on her image. She kind of “became” the person they wanted her to be, while making it very clear that there was something else she wanted: the kind of love - the kind of life - she’s singing about. My favorite song on the album is “I Wish You Would”, which is about “remembering what we’re fighting for” in a relationship, and it’s also a song which she mentions is written about “two people”, and not herself (voice memo, delux album). I think that’s probably true. I think it is probably the case that she was not in the middle of a Great Love Story at this point in her life, and so she was borrowing material. The same thing happens in “You are in Love” - there, she can’t be any clearer - that it’s about someone that is not her. (It’s actually about her co-producer and writer Jack Antonoff’s relationship. Btw, he is a brilliant lyricist in his own right and his music is *chef’s kiss*).

The song that I think happens to be the crossover song between the real story and the carefully presented narrative is “Out Of The Woods”. She’s said that this song was about a relationship she had where the primary feeling was anxiety, and it makes sense (at least with the lyrics)! But at the end of the song, the relationship is stronger than ever: “...I walked out, I said, ‘I’m setting you free’/ But the monsters turned out to be just trees/ And when the sun came up/ You were looking at me”. And then she repeats her chorus again, where she seems to be relieved to finally be “out of the woods”. 

So here’s where I get stuck: I stand by my theory that her gentle love songs on this album aren’t about her own romances. But I don’t think she’s lying. I think this song is about something that was anxiety inducing to her. However, I don’t think that this means that she is the narrator of the song. And I know that the question then is: what is her role in the situation? I don’t know. A close friendship with someone who’s going through it, maybe? That can be really rough, and I know that I’ve gotten sucked into people’s drama. But I think that it’s someone else’s perspective, especially because this fits into the “hard, worth fighting for, intense and long term” category, rather than something like “Blank Space”, in which she literally does not know who she is talking about ( “I’ve got a blank space/ And I’ll write your name”). 

And there is SO MUCH MORE I can say, but that was really my main point: I think she’s telling two different stories, and that it creates an environment that you don’t really know what’s going on or where to turn to understand the story. I listened to the full album a bunch of times before I came up with this read of it. Do I know who the other people I think she’s talking about are? Nope. And I don’t super think it matters. The songs and words are hers, and they’re gorgeous. Do I know what people think this album is about? Yup. Does it change my read of it? Not at all. I think my analysis stands, even - and especially - in context. 

So I still love this album. And I’m beyond thrilled that she has the kind of love she’s always been singing about. And I really hope that the other people she was hanging out with/dating/writing about are all doing amazing as well, particularly the human(s) in “I Know Places” and “I Wish You Would”.  I hope that they are still fighting for each other, and that they still feel like it’s “Always You” (/Always me but that sounds more narcissistic haha). If they are different relationships (like, if rather than her just focusing on one couple, she’s talking about many), I hope that they are all happy, successful, and in love. I hope that they don’t hang out in “Wonderland” anymore (although I think that song’s about a fake relationship, I’m just saying). I hope that they have long nights with fairy lights and soft songs. I hope she does, too. 

[eternaleve]

I’ve spent the course of COVID lockdown cycling through hyperfixations while also trying to engage in some much needed therapy (lolsob), and I’ve been essentially encouraging myself to try and do more things I can enjoy without feeling shame. Anyway, that’s a short way of saying I decided to blog about all the music videos of Depeche Mode for reasons of science.

The science is that my basic premise is that most of the videos are pretty bad in ways that I find to be pretty strange. Full disclosure is that I spent my teen years being a huge Cure fan and there’s an overlap there? Of songs with very niche high-concept ideas that don’t necessarily map onto a model of popular music but found mainstream success in the rise of new wave music in the wake of the collapse of first wave punk and amplified by the creation of music videos and music video TV. And I owned all the Cure music videos and played them on my iPod Nano because I was a very strange child. But to get back to my central thesis, many of The Cure’s videos are very stylised and fun and memorable in ways that are good. And yet, despite existing in the same sphere and having an overlap of fans, the music videos for Depeche Mode mostly stay bad until the end of the eighties, a fact I will prove by watching them all.

Can you tell that I am bored because i have lost my job and my mental health is making me fixate on strange shit currently because that is absolutely the case right now

Speak & Spell

Dreaming of Me (Feb 1981)

The single art is really lovely - the red/yellow contrast is very striking against the white, and I really love the design. Hey remember when people used to go out and buy singles and you would appreciate them and the work that went into them? I don’t think I’ve bought a physical single since I was about sixteen. I used to buy them from the Woolworths music department because it was cheap and all my friends worked there, so they had a pretty lenient attitude about what exactly constituted paying for things. Woolworths policy of only hiring teenagers is probably what destroyed their business.

Anyway, Dreaming of Me did not chart super well, getting to number 57 and having no official music video - or actually getting onto the album. It wasn’t included on Speak & Spell in the UK until the 2006 re-release. So, there was no music video for me to look at…

Apart from this video I found from local TV in 1981 to promote the song. It’s a maybe-music video. Because music videos had only been around for about six years and MTV didn’t exist until later in the same year, my guess is that Mute Records were pretty cautious about putting money into a medium that might cost more than they would get in publicity. That’s only a guess. I don’t have a crystal ball for forty years ago. 

Anyway, here are some children recording music.

If i was 19 and someone offered me a recording contract I would have taken it without thinking (like i took on all those student loans without thinking through any consequences wompwomp) but now I am nearly thirty I watch this and think, ‘These children shouldn’t be outside unaccompanied’. The passage of time has made a fool of me.

They go bowling and play Space Invaders which, hey, still sounds like a great night out to me, but I’m guessing that because this is very clearly aimed at teenagers the TV producers didn’t want to encourage teen drinking by showing them performing a gig at a club night.

I call it high fashion. The all-grey really sells it.

This reminds me so much of a advice column in teen magazines - when they’d have problems set out in a little faux-comic strip of still photos? ‘My best friend stole and read my diary’ ‘My crush found out about how I feel and now he’s going out with my best friend’, that sort of thing. That is also a classic carpet pattern. I think my grandma’s living room had that carpet. 

The video is very naive! It’s the sort of thing we would all see now on Youtube from bands just starting out and it is wild to me that this went out on TV. It’s very un-glossy and normal, the stuff that bands put out on YouTube now because of DIYness.

New Life (June 1981)

This is also a really great piece of single art. It’s very bold and striking - it would definitely be the standout record in a sea of other 7’’ released the same week. It also doesn’t particularly match the tone of the single but eh, it looks pretty cool. New Life did much better than Dreaming of Me and got up to number 11 in the UK singles chart. Still no official music video, but the charting meant that the band got onto Top of The Pops! ToTP was cancelled when I was a wee baby teen, because the BBC decided to stop caring about yoof viewership and promoting music was circling the drain everywhere as streaming hit, but it was the place to promote music so was definitely a sign that You Had Made It.

So, last video was silly and made by children, but now they’re wearing see-through mesh shirts, leather trousers, and leather hats with a design that I am a little bit dubious about. I grew up on the oi/punk scene and let me tell you about how many first wave punks wear iconography of bad regimes for faux edginess reasons because I met a LOT of them in my time.

Oh boy do i have thoughts about that hat. It also looks like a Leather Daddy hat which, well, let’s leave that thought to one side. Most ToTP performances were lipsynced. Playing things live would sound weird in the studio, be picked up strangely by the audio equipment and the cameras, so 99% of performances were mimed to the single. Now, some acts would deliberately play up to the pretence and refuse to act like they were doing anything that corresponded to the song - The Jam, The Communards, and The Cure are literally the first examples that come to mind who would just… not do anything close to pretending it was real. 

This is not that. It is very earnest and awkward and serious, which sort of makes it very sweet.

Just Can’t Get Enough (September 1981)

Right, that is shibari, isn’t it? I’m not blind, am I? It’s a very striking image that 99.9% of people would not recognise other than being a striking black and white image. 

I don’t think I can overstate how… innocent, in a way, this point of time was? As in the general level of knowledge about non-conventional stuff in the wider public at large. As in my mother, an almost teen at this point, saw George Michael walking with his boyfriend in central London and had no idea he was gay until he came out. It’s actually the widest cultural gulf I can think of between her teen years and my teen years because I was very aware of queer people from a young age.

Anyway, moving on, I feel like it bears repeating that this song fucking slaps. It’s the last single to be written by Vince Clarke and the last single until 2006 to be written by someone other than Martin Gore. This is one of those songs that just works on every level. Can you imagine coming up with this for the first album of your band? That blows my mind. It’s so overpoweringly good that it was probably for the best that it was saved for last - coming out the gate with a guaranteed fucking banger was been the nail in the coffin for a lot of other eighties synth/electronica bands. They scored a huge hit and then nothing after that managed to be as good or meet the hype. Depeche Mode had built up a far bit of radio play and interest before dropping this which turned out to be very good in the long run!

This got to number 8 on the UK charts and the first to get a music video! It is the only one with Vince Clarke. Full disclosure in that I had this song on my iPod through downloading the video to my computer (that’s how we got songs without using stuff that would give us viruses because i got a ton using bearshare for rare cure demos) and I remember watching the video, all of sixteen years old, and thinking, ‘Man, all these people look so grown up, compared to me, I can’t wait to be an adult!’.

Twelve years have changed my view, somewhat.

Look at this little baby man. Were you in one of my A Level classes - as in, ones that I have taught, not ones that I have been in.

Vince Clarke, however, has had a significant glow up in the six months and now looks like he is the bouncer in a leather bar. This is the One Adult in the room.

Ahh, I see it’s Open Mic Night at the local leather bar. You know what I was saying about how teens in the eighties tended to be significantly more naive about what we might call certain signifiers? Because what this outfit says to me, a queer woman in 2020, is susbstanitally different than to my mum and her friends watching this when it first came out. She would read this as ‘This is totally rebellious and cool!’ while I go ‘Someone just joined the university kink club and spent all their bursary’.

I don’t remember the member of Blazin’ Squad that wore a slave harness. (Now, there’s a reference that shows my age. A Blazin’ Squad reference in the year of Our Lord 2020. Hoooo boy.)

I read somewhere (that I can’t find now because, of course I can’t) that these are the band’s girlfriends and I always remembered that because it made me think, lol, same. One of my closest friends is the Head of London, so she’s in every band in London and if she’s not in yours yet give her time, and my partner was in a locally successful metal/hardcore band for about a decade and being connected with any sort of band means you will be helping out hugely behind the scene constantly. I have held lights, moved speakers, picked up instruments, been in music videos, and have bought tearaway trousers and glowsticks for gigs. You get called in to help all the time which is a lot of fun, so that fact always just stuck with me. It also makes sense financially because then you don’t have to hire any professional backing dancers, you can rely on people who will happily do it for free (while looking pretty rad while doing it!).

Anyway, the band look like those generic raiders that you run into when randomly walking across the map in a Fallout game.

I love awkward choreography in music videos. It feeds me.

Filming a night out provides A) Great footage and B) Can be done for limited overheads, leaving more money to be put into promotion. 

I always like seeing this sort of footage in music videos. I tend to see a lot of it, given the DIY punk scene, and it always charms me. I am easy to please. And all those women have the most amazing eye makeup that makes me super jealous because it all looks so good.

That hat is on point. This looks like a still image for some sort of cyberpunk big band style swing revival that, sadly, lives only in my dreams.

It took me so goddamn long to screenshot this shot probably because i was also blasting dream nails whoops

Anyway those are my reactions to Speak & Spell’s one solitary music video with some other things thrown in and this took me way too long. I make myself laugh though, that’s the main thing. I will do A Broken Frame… at some point. I think I have a bunch of vinyl for A Broken Frame? My mum actually bought all the singles for that album and I stole most of her collection years ago. I will have to search and see what I can find.

[itsclydebitches]

Car - Even after 6,000 years they still need a bit of a nudge. Maybe the Bentley can help with that.

***

Everything went to shit the morning Crowley parked the Bentley across from the shop, music blaring so loud that it shook the panes of every window a block down and drew him a record number of dirty looks. Crowley grinned at all the little humans, enjoying the feeling of hot metal against his arm and the vibrating base. When Aziraphale stuck his head out the door with a comically offended expression, well. Crowley most certainly enjoyed that too.

“Hello, Aziraphale!” he called. His voice had to rise past the capabilities of normal vocal cords to be heard.

“Turn that down!”

“Sorry?”

“Turn it down, Crowley!” Azirphale’s arms did a funny kind of pressing motion.

“Yeah, no, really didn’t catch that. You’ll have to speak a bit louder!”

Which resulted in Aziraphale puttering across the street to join him because the day his angel raised his voice above a gentlemanly reprimand was the day the world ended.

And as they now both knew, that was permanently on hold.

“Enough,” he growled, reaching across the steering wheel to press uselessly at all the knobs. Crowley shut the music off himself with a secretive snap. “Are you trying to deafen every one of my neighbors? Or summon the cops? Really, Crowley, the last thing we need is them poking about when I still have texts whose placement here I can’t exactly explain in writing. Do you want to tell them why there is a Georgian Bible without a paper trail?”

Crowley just grinned and set himself to the task of enjoying this interaction. It was all a little goldmine: Aziraphale’s arm pressed against his chest in an effort to reach the controls. How his hair lifted slightly at the tips because he tended to unfurl his wings when annoyed and even across dimensions those could produce a breeze. The way he still, after centuries, had no real idea how the police force worked. Yes, Zira. They’re going to respond to a noise complaint and then segue into breaking down your door, terrorizing a pouty bookshop owner purely for the fun of it.

...actually, that sounded like a lot of coppers Crowley knew. Maybe Aziraphale understood more than he gave him credit for.

“Sorry, angel. Just got real into that song.” Crowley wouldn’t have been able to name the song if his immortal life depended on it. He’d just let the Bentley pick whatever on the way here. “Up for a spot of lunch?”

It was their routine. A planned interaction that Crowley knew by heart and was thus safe to indulge in. He’d show up ‘unexpectedly’ outside the shop. Do something to invoke Aziraphale’s ire. He’d then spend a few moments memorizing his reactions like after 6,000 years there was anything left to learn (there was). Then Aziraphale would make his token protests, cave, and off they’d go. In the face of change—of the biblical sort. Of the “We’re on our own side now” sort—Crowley sometimes felt like routine was the only thing holding him together.

So something cracked when Aziraphale ignored his question entirely.

“Zira?” Crowley leaned out the window to get a better look. Aziraphale was now circling the car with a staggeringly guilty expression, hands twisting at the lowest button of his vest. Crowley was a second away from tumbling out and finding whatever had put that look on his angel’s face when he began to speak.

Not to Crowley though.

“I am so very sorry, my dear,” he said, seeming to address the Bentley’s hood. “I was quite cruel to you the other day, wasn’t I? Hardly sparing you a glance when you went up in flames like that. Yelling at Crowley to hurry things along. Oh... it must have hurt. Did it hurt? I’d imagine so. But please know that wasn’t at all an accurate representation of my feelings for you. Those were some rather extreme circumstances and I fear I was a bit out of my depth at the time. You see, I was forced to possess a woman by the name of Madam Tracy—a rather harrowing experience, all things considered—and there was an angry man pointing a gun at us, and the world was just about to end, you see, though I suppose you probably already knew that part—”

Crowley stared. Aziraphale was apologizing to his car.

Aziraphale. Was apologizing. To his car.

By the time he was done (finishing with a kiss to the front left light) Crowley had slithered down into his seat and was desperately trying to remember how to function.

“Crowley?”

“Hngg.”

“Whatever are you doing?”

“Suffering.”

“Suf—? Really. You show up here doing damage to all our eardrums and have the nerve to talk about suffering? Are you taking me to lunch or not?”

He’s perfect, Crowley thought, fumbling with his keys. He’s perfect and he just gave my car a more passionate love confession than I could ever hope to get.

If the Bentley seemed to have more of a purr to its engine that day Crowley chalked it up to his damaged hearing.

***

Scratch that, everything went to shit the day his Bentley realized they’d escaped the end of the world.

“It’s not alive,” a child had once told him, staring as Crowley yelled at the car for daring to stall on him. That was in the early days of their relationship. Winter of 1926, before they’d crossed many thousands of miles together, outrun other demons, discovered a shared love of music, had that wonderful romp across the Thames. Walking on water? Please. Try driving on it. Watch and weep, Jesus Christ.

That was far in the future though. Crowley had grown soft in his old age—really—and 1920s him wasn’t quite as forgiving. He’d figured a good reprimand was better than just magic-ing the problem away. This new Bentley needed to learn who was boss.

And here was this kid saying the stupidest things.

Crowley had looked her over. Wealthy little thing if that coat and frock was any indication. She’d been sucking a lolly and watching him like she’d ditched her shopping-obsessed mother and now had nothing better to do. Which was probably exactly what had occurred.

“How old are you?” he’d asked.

“Twelve.”

“Twelve years old and you’re saying nonsense like that?”

She’d gone so far as to stamp her foot, cheeks bulging from candy and indignation. “It’s not nonsense!”

So Crowley made a faulty approach—damn ice patches—and knelt down in front of her. He pointed upwards at a chaffinch. “That bird alive?”

“Well of course,” she’d said.

“Don’t ‘of course’ me, I’m about to blow your mind. Is the tree it’s in alive?”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, right, both agreeing on that. Okay, how ‘bout the sun shining through its branches?”

For the first time the girl had hesitated. Crowley jumped on it.

“Ah ha!” he crowed. “Bit tricker, eh? Lots of science folks out there who might try to make that case. Is a river alive? Maybe not, but if it is does that make the rain alive too? All the pretty things it freezes into?” Crowley scooped up a handful of snow, dumping it over the girl’s head. She had jumped and squeaked but didn’t run. “Life’s a messy thing, kid. All those blurry lines for metal and heat and water and light. So if I take those blurry things and change them up until they’re a car—” he waved both arms at the Bentley. “Don’t you think the car’s a bit of a blurry thing too?”

The girl had bit into her lip. It was red with cold and nibbled raw. “...Maybe.”

Crowley nodded. “Last question: am I a man or a snake?”

“A man!”

“And that’s why you don’t go telling strangers their cars aren’t alive.” Crowley stood. He made a sound like a buzzer in the back of his throat. “Wrong answer, kid. But you’re asking questions so I guess you’re not all bad.” He’d miracled up another lolly and shooed her off. “Go find your mum.”

Crowley never had the slightest doubt that his Bentley was alive. Maybe it appreciated that certainty because their relationship got a whole lot better after that. Ninety-three years and no more stalling.

Today, in 2019, Crowley wished dearly that the Bentley was just a hunk of metal.

“Surely this is bebop,” Aziraphale said. Crowley resisted the urge to lay his head on the steering wheel and just give up completely.

Actually, who was he to deny himself anything?

“Please watch the road!”

“You watch the road,” Crowley mocked, swatting Aziraphale’s hand away as he attempted to gain control. During it all Diana Ross crooned from the speakers.

Two hearts, Two hearts that beat as one Our lives have just begun...

He didn’t own any Diana Ross. He hadn’t turned on the radio. The song was just there as soon as they’d started off and Crowley was this close to selling the Bentley for scrap metal.

Because it had been doing this for days now. Anything Crowley wanted to listen to while out and about on his own? Sure. That was just fine. When Aziraphale decided to join them?

Cheesy love songs galore. Crowley’s hands tightened until his knuckles went white. He hoped the Bentley could feel it.

“Angel, do you have any concept of what bebop actually is?”

“Well...” Aziraphale faltered. “I know all the young kids are into it and this woman’s voice is quite risqué.”

“Literally none of that is right. Not a lick of sense. It’s 2019 how do you even function?”

The music increased in volume.

'Cause no one can deny This love I have inside And I'll give it all to you My love, my love, my love My endless love

“I’m setting you on fire again,” Crowley growled and pretended like he couldn’t hear Aziraphale humming along as the song repeated.

***

The next day Crowley opened the Bentley to find a bedazzled BEBOP charm hanging from his rearview mirror. The tacky monstrosity caught all the light as it slowly, spitefully rotated.

With a yell he chucked it into oncoming traffic. It was back again by lunch.

Aziraphale loved it.

(So fine, yeah, he guessed it could stay.)

***

After that more changes started to appear. Things that Crowley had never even thought about, let alone purposefully brought into existence. His Bentley suddenly had a cupholder for Aziraphale’s mugs of tea. There was extra space in the back for transporting books. One minor, throwaway comment about the sun being too bright and suddenly there were tinted windows, for heaven’s sake.

Crowley understood that his Bentley was alive, but it wasn’t supposed to have agency. Theoretically none of this stuff was bad, but who the fuck did the Bentley think it was, coming up with it all first?

By the time Aziraphale was commenting on how soft the seats were Crowley had had enough. He drove the blessed machine out to Tadfield with the express purpose of accosting an eleven-year-old.

“Did you give my car free will?!”

Adam was, objectively, the child most used to dealing with weird shit in his life. (Outmatched only (perhaps) by a young man named Warlock who’d had the dubious honor of growing up with a literal angel and demon over his shoulder. Both of whom were fools.) After coming into unfathomable power, nearly bringing about the end of the world, watching your not-Dad rise from the Earth in a fiery display, and then re-writing said world back to its basics, having a scrawny man yelling about free will while you were trying to eat ice cream didn’t even make the list of Top Ten Things I’m Dealing With Right Now.

So Adam dug more forcefully into his soft-serve. “Hey, Crowley.”

“Yeah. Hey. Nice day I guess.” It had occurred to Crowley right after he’d nearly hit the low wall of the Madisons’ garden and started shrieking at a group of children that this display would, perhaps, not be well received by the locals. And who wanted to deal with locals? So he reigned it in a bit and tried for a cheery wave at Mrs. Madison.

She scowled like a pissed-off peacock.

“Aren’t you going to say hello to us too?” Pepper demanded. She sat on the grass between Adam and Brian, the three of them trading ice creams every few moments. Adam now had the popsicle while Pepper had the soft serve and Crowley was decidedly not imagining him and a certain angel doing the same.

Wensleydale was off collecting ants to do Things with later.

Crowley sighed. “Hey, Piper.”

“Pepper.”

“What was your name again? No wait, never-mind, really don’t care. You. Antichrist—”

“Adam.”

“Adam. Did you mess with my car or not?”

Adam took the cup of cookie dough from Brain and exchanged a Look. The sort of Look that only children could pull off after numerous adventures together, filled with an hour’s worth of conversation boiled down to just a few ticks and movements of the mouth. He then exchanged the same with Pepper. Wensleydale was still too far off to hear the conversation, but he looked back as if hearing an unvoiced call, giving Adam a thumbs up. Throughout it all Crowley stood with hands halfway mashed into his pockets, shifting weight from foot to foot. He could feel Mrs. Madison boring into his back.

The moment was a short one, but what passed within it was given a great deal of consideration and weight. See, the Them hadn’t the slightest clue what Crowley was on about and Crowley, it seemed, was working under a number of assumptions that led to him not explaining himself one bit. Cars? Free will? Adam’s eyes strayed to the Bentley and while he could admit that it was a very nice looking car—if old—that was really all he had to say about the thing. He hadn’t exactly composed an itemized list of everything he’d wanted during the confrontation at the airbase. The only thing he’d been able to articulate within his mind was a Dad, Daddy, my Daddy in a voice that had sounded far younger than he actually was. Everything else had just been a ripple coming off of that. Now Adam experienced the same feeling as when Mr. Fell had called him up to thank him for the new books and Adam had responded with a “Wut?”

What the Them did know was that this was all very important to Crowley. Adam’s potential involvement got him riled.

So Adam gave the only logical answer he could in that moment.

“Yes,” he said.

The result was, to use a phrase, bloody spectacular.

Adam got back his original soft-serve. Pepper had the cookie dough. Brian the strawberry pop. They ate contentedly as Crowley went on a surprisingly creative rant about how kids could not and should not and in the future would not be messing with his car. Off to the side Wensleydale pulled out his phone to record the display, taking time to zoom in on Mrs. Madison’s expression.

Adam was still pretty out of his depth, but after a detailed account of all the Bentley’s new behaviors he felt a niggling suspicion and was compelled to say, “Kinda sounds like it’s trying to tell you something. Maybe you should listen?”

Crowley turned the same shade as his hair and Wensleydale, cackling, started uploading to Youtube.

***

“Dear, Adam tells me there’s a record of you on one of these social media sites. Would you perhaps show me how to—”

“Don’t click that!”

***

One week later the Bentley stalled.

Crowley stared in shock as it inched a couple feet, a couple more, and then stopped completely, out in the middle of goddamn nowhere. Well, not really. After hearing a highly edited version of Crowley’s visit to Adam, Aziraphale had insisted on a proper get-together the weekend following. Now here they were, partway between rural visit and urban home. There’d been food and drinks and piling far too many people into Anathema’s little cottage, all the things that might have interested a demon if Crowely had been able to focus on anything other than the smell of Aziraphale’s skin.

Another new cologne.

“Ah, Crowley...?” He spoke now, light and hesitant. “Did you mean to stop here?”

‘Here’ was a deserted stretch at 9:13pm, the stars their only light for miles. 

“No.”

“Can you—?”

“No.”

Crowley knew it with a certainty that set his teeth on edge. He couldn’t just miracle them going again. The Bentley wouldn’t allow it. Maybe it really was the influence of a kid capable of warping reality in ways no angel or demon ever could. Maybe it was just the result of decades spent in the presence of occult and celestial entities, soaking up a bit of power then and there until it had something worthwhile. (And if that was the case Crowley was terrified to think about what Zira’s bookshop might be turning into.) All he knew for sure was that his Bentley was different now.

Acting like a goddamn, meddlesome brat.

Aziraphale had shifted this way in his seat, that way, perhaps finally acknowledging to himself that he knew nothing about cars and therefore could do very little to help. Crowley heard a few more noises on his left and then, “The doors are locked.”

Of course they were.

“Angel—”

“Dear—”

Something about Aziraphale’s tone made Crowley pause. Swallow down the rising excuse and finally look at him.

It was quite the sight. Aziraphale’s cheeks were pink from Anathema’s wine and one of his curls was plastered to his forehead, a victim of the heat. Through the window Crowley could see the play of shadows along the fields, the stars he’d help hang, the moon nearly full. All of it paled in comparison to Aziraphale’s eyes though. Crowley figured 6,000 years, an unknowable amount of time before that... he’d still never seen anything like them. Most days he chalked it up to Aziraphale being all angel-y. On rare occasions he acknowledged that none of the other wank-wings’ eyes looked like that.

Love had a tendency to color the things it touched.

“Are you perhaps trying to tell me something?” Aziraphale whispered, a soft smile playing at his lips. It drew Crowley’s gaze.

He swallowed. “Not me.”

“No?”

“Uh-uh. It’s the Bentley’s doing...”

“Ah, I see. Well, we wouldn’t want to disappoint your precious Bentley now would we?”

Aziraphale moved first. Six goddamn millennia and now he crossed the divide, pushing himself into the driver’s seat and half into Crowley’s lap. His hands made a beeline for his hair and cheek—one thumb tracing up towards the tattoo—and Aziraphale only paused for one more moment, six millennia plus one, his expression one of absolute rapture. Then he sighed and closed the gap.

Their first kiss tasted like something ineffable.

The Bentley began slowly making its way back towards London, leaving its occupants free to continue what they’d finally begun.

“I think,” Aziraphale laughed, pulling back as the scenery flashed by. “That this is the perfect speed for us.”

[bpro-cardstories]

Ryuji Korekuni SSR

2019 ー Childhood [Childhood]

“Fufu, Ryuji-kun, your eyes are sparkling. This time, it is for the sake of the children and the project but… I hope it becomes a meaningful job for Ryuji-kun who had a short childhood.”

『 Event: The Wizarding Academy (02nd - 09th October 2019) 』

Part 1

KitaKore and MooNs have a joined charity project together. 

Tsubasa: ‘Everyone, thank you for coming. Since everyone is here I will move on to the main subject.’

Tsubasa: ‘This time several publishers come together for a sponsorship. Daikoku Production has also joined the charity project『 Love for Children 』. Therefore, I thought that KitaKore and MooNs surely would like to participate as well.’

Hikaru: ‘Ooh~! Charity sounds good!! Hm, children you say… Is it a fund-raising for children?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That’s right. You will join the event as ambassadors… I’m thinking about doing marketing at the venue or online, and handle the charity’s goods’ design too.’ 

Hikaru: ‘The goods’ design, huh.’ 

Tatsu: ‘Is it alright if we are in charge? Because …’

He then looks at their leader which fairly surprises the latter. Kazu is not known for having an artistic side... Mika tries to somehow save Kazu’s honor. 

Kazu: ‘Eh? Why are you looking at me, Tatsuhiro?’  

Mika: ‘It’s because leader’s artistic level is too high! We are afraid that we can’t keep up with your skill.’ 

Tatsu: ‘Y-Yeah. That’s true.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, it will be okay. It seems that for the final adjustment a professional designer will lend us his hand.’ 

Ryuji: ‘That’s a relief. So… Tsubasa talking about this, does it mean that things revolving around the event is of Gandara’s responsibility?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That’s right. However, in this situation there are teams that are familiar with this work, so as usual I will be able to support everyone.’

Tomo: ‘That’s a big help. As always, thank you, Tsubasa.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘No, I should be the one, thank you very much! However, there is something I need to tell you first.’

Tsubasa: ‘The truth is I wanted you to choose your role freely. Though, for the advertising or schedule’s reasons there is something that was assigned beforehand, that is said they wish to deal with.’

Ryuji: ‘Fuun. Well, you can’t help it, right? The adults’ reasons can’t be ignored.’

Hikaru: ‘True, you don’t need to worry, Tsubasa-chan ~ ♪ And, and? What’s our part!?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘E-Ehm… MooNs is asked to design goods such as T-shirts or sticker towels.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Oh, that sounds like fun! How about drawing a huge smiley moon symbol in the middle of a shirt?’ 

Tatsu: ‘What’s that. Listen first.’ 

Kazu: ‘A smiling moon, huh? For example, like this…’ 

Hikaru: ‘Eh? A-Ah! That’s close!! Like that!? Perhaps!’ 

Ignoring MooNs’ attempts to not hurt Kazu’s feelings, Ryuji wants to know what KitaKore is in charge of. 

Ryuji: ‘… So, what’s our part, Tsubasa?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Kitakado-san will produce a compilation CD that collects music according to the project’s image. Ryuji-kun is asked to create a picture book for children.’ 

Tomo: ‘It looks like the creative direction varies depending on the group. It seems difficult but worth doing. Right, Ryuji?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yeah… That’s right.’ 

Momo: ‘If Korekuni says so, it looks like to become a success.’

Tomo: ‘Because Ryuji has an excellent sense of colour, the picture book surely will be fun to look at.’  

Ryuji: ‘... I wonder. It seems so.’ 

(Ryuji-kun acts evasive somehow… Is there something worrying him?) __________

(Later when Tsubasa brought Ryuji home.) 

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun, for today too, good work.’

Ryuji: ‘Thanks. You will send the check of today’s shooting, right?’ Tsubasa: ‘Yes, I think, I can send it to you next week.’ 

Ryuji: ‘I see. Ok then, see you tomorrow.’ 

When he is about to go, Ryuji is stopped by Tsubasa who didn’t forget the incident earlier. 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah…’ 

Ryuji: ‘... What is it, Tsubasa?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, no… Uhm, I think if possible I can bring you what looks like useful reference material for the charity’s picture book but do you have an image in mind?’   

Ryuji: ‘Image… Image, huh.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘A colour or a theme, anything is fine.’ 

Ryuji: ‘....’ 

Tsubasa: ‘.... Ryuji-kun, could it be that you are not good with picture books?’ 

Her suggestion catches him off-guard. 

Ryuji: ‘Eh?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Because you were looking visibly depressed during the meeting.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Oh-- …. No, that’s not really the case. Truth is, I have a feeling that I won’t be able to do it the way other people do in creating interesting things. I barely read picture books until now.’

Tsubasa: ‘That’s… Even as a child?’

Ryuji: ‘Yeah. There was a picture book my mother read to me repeatedly but I hardly remember anything else. When I was able to read letters, as a child actor I was holding a script in my hand … I watched more movies than read books, I guess.’

Ryuji: ‘That’s why, I don’t know what picture book makes children happy… There’s not really a focus. For the time being, I think I’ll do a lot of research but it may be quite difficult--’

Part 2

Hikaru: ‘I made it! A huge sand castle ~!’ 

Boy: ‘Woaah-!’ 

Tomo: ‘The meal was really delicious, thank you.’ 

Girl: ‘You are welcome -! 

(Fufu. The children and everyone seem to have fun playing. We came to the kindergarten as part of the project, but it seems like it is also a break for them.) 

Boy: ‘Hey, hey, let’s play shadow-catching?’ 

Girl: ‘Hide-and-seek!’

Ryuji: ‘Eh? Wait, let’s play in turn--’ 

Boy: ‘I said shadow-catching!’ 

Girl: ‘No, hide-and-seek!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Would you listen to me. If each of you is only talking about your own favorite play…’

Girl: ‘Hide-and-seek! Hide-and-seek, hide-and-seek!!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Wait…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Look, you two, they seem to be playing game of tag over there.’ 

Boy: ‘Really!? Yay--’ 

Girl: ‘Ah, wait! I’ll go too!’

Ryuji: ‘Geez… What was that quarrel even about?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu. Children are difficult. Or should I say, their reasons can’t be comprehended...’ 

Ryuji: ‘It seems so. Since I don’t play with small children I honestly don’t know why I should. Haa… I thought I could find the focus of the picture book here but it’s not going too well.’

Tsubasa: ‘Please don’t mind too much, ok? Let’s think about it carefully and without rushing.’ 

Ryuji: ‘But, you can’t say that, am I wrong? After all, we have a deadline…’ 

Ryuji: ‘... Oh?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Eh… What happened?’ 

Ryuji: ‘No, I was wondering if that child over there is fine. It looks to be alone in the corner… Is it playing with building blocks, or rather arranging them in a line…? What should we do.’

Tsubasa: ‘Shall we try to approach the child?’

Ryuji: ‘Yeah…’ __________

Ryuji: ‘Hi, what are you doing there?’

Boy: ‘.... Airplane.’

Ryuji: ‘Eh?’

Boy: ‘The airplane. It will transform into a robot. This is the princess’ pirate.’ 

Ryuji: ‘What’s with the princess and the pirate…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘You think of the building blocks as the airplane or robot.’ 

Ryuji: ‘What about the colourful blocks that are stacked up here?’ 

Boy: ‘Jewels. The pirate is hiding the treasure.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘What a story you have there…!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Fufu, and grand.’

Ryuji: ‘... It’s nostalgic somehow. I used to play like this as well.’

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun as well?’ 

Ryuji: ‘When I was a child actor, the waiting time during the drama shooting was long and boring. At that time, I was playing imagining various things alone. Like, if the candy in the dressing room was a magic candy…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, how cute. What power does the candy have?’ 

Ryuji: ‘I imagined all the places I want to go to. No matter how far, you can go to that place instantly. Though when it melts, you return to reality.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Somehow… It’s similar to The Little Match Girl?’

Tsubasa: ‘A magic candy that makes it possible to go anywhere. Ryuji-kun, doesn’t it sound like a theme for the picture book?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Eh?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I was really excited when I listened to the story just now. As one would expect, it would be lonesome if the story unfolds like the one of The Little Match Girl…’

Ryuji: ‘So… if it’s possible to make the end a Happy Ending, will it also fit into the picture book’s story? If the colourful candies are scattered all over the book, it probably will make the children happy.’

Tsubasa: ‘I think, that is a really good idea!’ 

Ryuji: ‘... Yep, it’s not bad. For now, let’s think about the outline.’ 

Both, especially Ryuji, are pleased to have finally found a theme for the picture book. Next is the realization of the idea.

Part 3

Ryuji: ‘--Tsubasa, do you have a moment? I brought the picture book’s illustrations.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, how fast! Please let me take a look.’ 

Ryuji: ‘It’s more like a rough draft…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Waah, how beautiful! As expected of Ryuji-kun. This colour scheme… It is already perfectly charming. What kind of story is it?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Ehm… It’s a tale that begins when the protagonist obtained a big jar with multicolored candies in a candy shop. Those candies had a mysterious power, and the moment he put one in his mouth, he leapt to an unknown place. At first he was surprised but he quickly realized the candies’ magic and started to travel.’ 

Ryuji: ‘To a tropical island, an amusement park, the universe… Because of the time he was able to go to places he wanted, he became lost in it. Keeping it a secret from his parents, he enjoyed his exciting trips. He sometimes fights with pirates and saves the caught dragons.’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, it is big adventure.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yeah. However… One day he suddenly sensed a feeling of loneliness. Because he is always alone, no matter where he goes, what he does, there is no companion to share his memories with. If only his parents or friends were there it would be a lot more fun…’

Ryuji: ‘Thereupon, he thought about a strategy. What about melting all the remaining candies into one big candy? What if everyone tastes it, wouldn’t he be able to travel together with everyone? Then immediately, he took out the biggest pot at home and rushed to the biggest restaurant in the street. There, he borrowed their stove and melted the leftover candies together… A big big candy of various colours came out.’

Ryuji: ‘He quickly called everyone and have them taste the big candy. And that’s the story of how everyone is able to travel together.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, a Happy Ending! Such a lovely and fun story…! It was not only exciting but also wonderful how the growth of the protagonist was depicted, I think. Rather than enjoying fun things alone, you want to share them with someone. Isn’t this perfect as well for this charity’s intent?’ 

Ryuji: ‘I agree. It’s because I listened to Tsubasa’s talk, thank you.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘You don’t have to…! I’m looking forward to the form of the current story.’

Ryuji: ‘Yeah. But, there is one thing I’m worried about… The image I have in mind for the big candy at the end are Choppa Charos, though isn’t it problem? I’m going to draw it as an ordinary candy on a stick but I think, the shape will be similar after all.’

Tsubasa: ‘Then I will confirm once. Because if you get in trouble later, a wonderful story will be spoiled.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Thanks.’

Part 4

Tsubasa came to KTKR’s apartment to tell Ryuji some good news. He didn’t expect the positive outcome of the talk.

Tsubasa: ‘Ryuji-kun, the manufacturer sent a reply. It seems that the Choppa Charos itself can be included in the picture book!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Eh… really?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes! It looks like they liked the book’s contents.’

Ryuji: ‘Heh, I’m happy… A magic Choppa Charos, huh. So something like a candy that turns things into reality exists. It’s really like a dream.’ 

Tomo: ‘Yeah, I can feel the story coming closer. How nice, right, Ryuji.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘And…’ 

Ryuji: ‘Eh? There is more?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes. To be honest, this talk was a start, that manufacturer decided to be a sponsor for the charity project as well.’

Tomo: ‘Hee… As expected, it’s amazing, Ryuji’s impact.’ 

Ryuji: ‘My impact, I don’t know what that means… It’s something good, right?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Of course!! According to the manufacturer, it seems that they are thinking about producing a limited flavour and want to donate the earnings to the charity project. For the event, it is planned to hand it out to the children for free.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘This is what I would like to discuss… Ryuji-kun, would you like to try producing that limited Choppa Charos flavour?’

Ryuji: ‘Eh… Production?’

Tsubasa: ‘That’s right. All together, they want to produce an exciting flavor like the candy that appears in this picture book. And wanted to have Ryuji-kun sounded out on this request.’

Ryuji: ‘No way. Me, producing Choppa Charos…’ 

Tomo: ‘Fufu, but it’s without a doubt reality. And… you surely already decided, right?’

Ryuji: ‘Of course! I can’t possibly miss the chance to be involved in making my favourite candy.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Then I will send them your reply.’ 

Tomo: ‘It seems like Ryuji’s love finally got through. Even during the Bambi period, he always carried it with him.’ 

Ryuji: ‘When I said that, I was a child actor. Because it was my imaginary friend…!’ 

(Fufu, Ryuji-kun, your eyes are sparkling. This time, it is for the sake of the children and the project but… I hope it becomes a meaningful job for Ryuji-kun who had a short childhood.) 

Part 5

Tsubasa: ‘--The new flavour is finally completed.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Yep, finally. Because it was decided that the concept was the candy the young boy made at the end of the picture book, I thought it would proceed more smoothly…’ 

Tsubasa: ‘There were all kinds of obstacles when it came to the production of  the goods, after all. You cannot simply mix all flavours.’ 

Ryuji: ‘But, wasn’t it thanks to the manufacturer’s patience with the prototype that, as the name suggests, the candy has a dreamy taste.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘When you put it in your mouth, the flavour changes,『 Magical Dream Flavour』! Fufu, what an exciting name.’

Ryuji: ‘Not only children, adults too can enjoy it. I aimed for a taste that makes you want to share it with someone. I hope everyone can agree with it. For this sake, I have to give my best during the shooting of the poster.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘You are right. This set as well seems to be designed to fit the candy’s image.’ 

Her comment makes him realize how much detail was put into this project.

Ryuji: ‘True. It’s really elaborated.’

Ryuji: ‘But, what is this cloth in the middle….?’

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu, please take a look.’ 

Ryuji: ‘? Then…’ 

Ryuji: ‘This… A huge objet d’art* of a Choppa Charos!?’

Tsubasa: ‘It seems to be a special order.’

Ryuji: ‘Must be, it’s a first for me seeing something like that! It’s very cute. It really has Magical Dream Flavour written on…!’ 

Ryuji: ‘Say Tsubasa, doesn’t it look edible? If we taste it together, we could go everywhere.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufu.’ 

Her chuckle makes him blush, that was too embarrassing just now. 

Ryuji: ‘Eh? ...! Wait, that was too much. I looked like a kid, right.’

Tsubasa: ‘No, I feel the same too. Because it was always my dream to have a big candy or a pool with orange juice!’

Ryuji: ‘.... A pool with orange juice, what’s that?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ehm, did you not long for it? A juice that never diminishes, no matter how much you drink…?’ 

Ryuji: ‘Hee? Tsubasa also has a child-like side.’

Tsubasa: ‘I-I think, everyone has this aspect to them…! Because adults used to be children as well.’ 

Ryuji: ‘Fufu, yeah. That might be true. It’s good to frolic like this once in a while, regardless of your age. Similar to being excited, happy, relaxed, a feeling of happiness….’

Ryuji: ‘If I can make a person feel this much with my picture book and candy, I’m happy.’          

END ________________ *Objet d’art: “literally means ‘art object’ (or work of art) in French, but in practice, the term has long been reserved in English to describe works of art that are not paintings, large or medium-sized sculptures, prints, or drawings. It therefore covers a wide range of works, usually small and three-dimensional, of high quality and finish in areas of the decorative arts [...]” (Source: Wikipedia)

[concreation]

Hold up, Milk-Drinker

Intro

"Hold up, milk drinker," the guard laughed.  "What's your business with all this… merchandise?"

M'Sava pulled up the corners of his mouth, an affect he had been told by a caravaneer would soothe men-folk.  Speaking past his teeth, "M'Sava… eh… This one… eh… this one has heard tell of the Man-Mane's Potluck, of the dances and the swords and the sweet smells of…" M'Sava trailed off, a new expression upon the guard's face, one which M'Sava had not encountered yet from a man.  It seemed to accentuate the hard features of his mouth, to make him even less like the Ohmes from his homeland.

Finally the guard spoke, motioning to the closed city gates behind him.  "Well, cat, as you can see, it is night, and the festival begins during the day, so you'll have to wait outside.  Preferably where I won't see you or have to smell you."  The guard hissed, the sound invading M'Sava's ears.

M'Sava took a step backward, trying to process this strange behaviour.  Men seemed so quick, yet so hard, like cones falling from jungle trees.  He closed his eyes, going through his lessons, back to Khaanin'fa's teaching, 'a hard deal is like a soft deal, just curdled.'  At the time, this of course had made no sense, and M'Sava still wondered if it had even made sense to her.  But wisdom could be pulled out of anything, and he figured now was as good a time as any.

"M'Sava's friend!  Let this one uncurdle you with the gift of the moons!" M'Sava went to his camel, J'Mashe'ra, pulling a small bowl from its pack.

"Oh no no cat, we'll not have any of that in here, begone!"  The guard brandished his sword, he hissed again, and shooed M'Sava away.

Confused, M'Sava turned back down the road.  To the south, the sandy desert across the bay reminded him of home, and he led his camel slowly around the bay, searching the sands for a good spot to set up his tent.  He turned several times next to a tall palm, before settling into a small dune, laying out his carpet and raising his tent.  During his strange journey, this process had soothed him, reminding him of home.  Pulling a slip of paper from his camel's pack, he took it within his tent to study quietly.  Every night he pulled another slip of paper from the pack, so regularly that J'Mashe'ra seemed to anticipate it once the tent was up.  Tonight's paper read simply, "Don't eat too much darling", in his mother's austere handwriting.  M'Sava smiled at this, having scarcely had anything to eat since leaving home.  The men and mer who had been willing to have conversations with him were more interested in trade, or skooma, than in enjoying a meal together.  He looked to the moons and wondered if his mother saw the same moons.  Of course not, he thought, but maybe him seeing them would be enough for her.  She wouldn't have let that guard treat him like that, but then, he had headed for the Potluck on his own partly to learn to be independent from the memory of her.  He snuggled into the dune, content that he was making some progress.  He thought ahead to the next day, and what fun he would have at the Potluck.  Sleep took him quickly, as it always had.

"Ahem, Khajiit!  Awaken please, I aim to do business!"  An angular face poked past the entry flap of M'Sava's tent, golden eyes peering into the darkness.

M'Sava awoke with a start, letting out a soft hiss before climbing to his feet, again aware of where he was.  Light poured in above the stranger's head, and M'Sava began to realize that he had overslept.  "No no, this one is no caravaner, this one must go to the city!"

"Ah, a shame, I was hoping for a little moon sugar for some experiments, I know you Khajiit always have some, isn't that so?"

M'Sava frowned, finally looking the intrusive Altmer in the eye.  He was young, at least for a mer, and seemed out of place, for his head looked to have been bared to the sun for too long, leaving an orange sunburn.  "This one really must be going, the Potluck may already have begun!"

Now the Altmer frowned, pulling his head out of the tent, and called from outside, "I am patient Khajiit, but I must have some moon sugar!"

M'Sava frowned.  Men and mer alike considered him barbaric, but their tastes were truly barbaric.  It was as though they could not see the subtleties of moon sugar, the holiness of it.  It was all corrupted to them.  He thought of another piece of wisdom from Khaanin'fa's teaching, "To lick the self completely clean is to have a clean outside and a dirty inside.  This is why one should lick themself half clean, to achieve balance."  Why did he think of these things?

Finally, M'Sava had rolled up his carpet and taken down most of his tent from within.  He went to his camel, but stopped when he noticed that same Altmer, standing over a body a little way up the road.  The body was hooded, but M'Sava could see that same golden skin poke through the robes.  Fear gripped him, for he had heard tales of powerful Altmer wizards, wizards who might not take kindly to being told no.  This scene also stood between him and the Potluck.  He pulled the bowl from his camel's pack again, and slowly moved toward the young Altmer.  "Say… M'Sava could part with some sugar… This one offers it freely!"

The Altmer turned, a glow fading from his eyes.  "Oh lovely!  And for free?  You Khajiit are inscrutable!"  M'Sava handed off the bowl, and the Altmer put it in a pouch hidden within his robe.  It seemed he had many pouches hidden away, and his movement caused much clinking and bubbling.  "Now Khajiit, you say your name is Emshava?  A pleasure to make your acquaintance!  I am Loviril.  Many pardons about our pursuer here, he did not appreciate my being so candid about my search for your sugar.  You say you're headed to the Potluck?  For I am as well!  Shall we travel together?  Your pack beast appears thirsty!  Shall I provide?"

The barrage of questions took M'Sava aback, so much so that he did not try to correct the poor pronunciation of his name.  "Ehhh… Why not?"

Loviril went to J'Mashe'ra, and, producing a small vial from his robe, fed the camel a few drops.  He giggled excitedly at the soft lips on his hand, and pulled another small vial from his robes, smearing it full of spittle.  He turned to M'Sava, and smiled, full and bright.  "Well, off we are then?"

Curious, M’Sava went to his camel, who seemed lively and cheerful, or at least more cheerful than it had been other mornings.  He pulled the reins, and the camel went along much easier than it had before.  M’Sava was curiously grateful, but he still gave the dead body a wide berth, especially after noticing the green tinge working its way through her veins.  Loviril spoke loudly, "Ah, apologies for that little incident, can't have anyone taking my business the wrong way, can we?"

M'Sava gulped, careful to avoid looking at Loviril too much.  His father had been like this, with questions he didn't know the answer to.  They made the rest of the way to the city uneventfully, though as the sounds of music and market bustle billowed over the walls, he began to be more excited about the Potluck instead.

The same guard that had driven him away the night before was just exchanging keys with the new shift, and grinned mischievously as M'Sava and Loviril passed.  "Don't bring in anything you shouldn't Khajiit!"  The other guards looked curious, but the first guard laughed again, leaving them to wonder.

1

As they made their way through the gates and into the first hold of the city, Loviril took his leave.  "If I see you again, N'shaza, may it be in happy times!"

M'Shava shook his head ruefully, his tail twitching at again being called the wrong name.  He led his camel through the market, his nose overwhelmed at the smells of many foods, spices, and the sweaty men and mer who dominated the market.  The smell of sweat was terrible to M'Sava, it was like these people pissed when it was hot.

"Oy, cat!" called a nearby fish merchant, "how about some dried fish eh?  Or maybe, fresh?  That sounds good doesn't it?  Here kitty!"  The merchant laughed, her belly shaking, the greenish stains on her shirt heaving.  Her fish was decidedly not fresh, a fact clear from the fact that in the packed market, her stall had plenty of space.

M'Sava avoided her gaze as he passed her stall, and she called out in a lower voice, "do not think you can avoid what is to come Khajiit, the past repeats itself."

M'Sava furrowed his brows, pressing on without looking behind.  She continued her mongering, but soon he could no longer hear her, just the sounds of the Potluck market.  He would stop every once in a while to sample something, and give something feom his pack.  The spices and food he had brought with him were of great interest to those he passed, as they were usually expensive in High Rock.  M'Sava relished this, as the strangers he had met on the road did not seem nearly as happy to see a Khajiit.  And to trade rather than pay, with no bartering or finagling, was like being at home with his clan.  His mother had told him, "M'Sava, this one will do anything for you, but don't forget to do everything for this one!"  He laughed softly to himself, remembering that he hadn't known at the time whether or not she had meant it.

2

He had worked his way up through the first keep and was passing into the second when a burst of darkness caught his eye, a Suthay like him on a nearby rooftop with most of his face concealed by a dark mask, but for his mouth, which held a rotten fish.  He stopped, but the other Khajiit was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

Shuddering with shame, M'Sava heard the sounds of swords, and came back into himself.  He saw the radiant glow of the singing before he saw the actual performers, but when he got closer and could see the dance, he fell back, afraid.  The sound cut the air, his ears confused.  The song seemed not to come from the swords, but from within his own head, to leap and parry and break, then reform, just as the sword-dancers did.  The crowd around him seemed just as enthralled, swaying as one to the bizarre rhythm of the swords.

And suddenly M'Sava felt a small, cool bottle pressed into his hand, and felt a rush of air as another dancer, no Redguard, but a Dagi-raht, danced through the crowd, gifting small bottles of what M'Sava knew from old experiences was skooma.  She was one second here, then another second there, her dark clothing glinting with purples and golds, vicious laughter clashing with the sound of the swords.  She landed blithely between the dancers, stark against the reds and browns of the dancers' garb, and threw a handful of soul gems into the air.  The gems were caught up in the waves of tonal magic in the air, and they began to dance to the rhythm of the swords, trails of soul magic following and tangling together.

The dagi-raht disappeared again, and the soul magic began to extend out through the sword dance into the crowd, compelling them to drink their bottles.  As the wave of magic pushed through M'Sava's chest, he lifted the bottle to his mouth, something he had not done in years, but as he did he saw that same suthay from earlier, rotten fish hanging from his mouth and perched atop a nearby rooftop.  He cleared his thoughts with a shake, and stowed the small bottle in a pouch.

The dancers had halted their performance, and abruptly the soul gems rained down on the crowd.  A child began to cry and calls for guards rang out.  M'Sava tried to hurry away, not wanting to be associated with the strange khajiit who had disrupted the dance, but Loviril stood behind him, empty bottle of skooma in hand.

"Fascinating!  Simply fascinating!"  Loviril smiled widely at M'Sava, his pupils wide and glistening.  "How did you manage to resist the urge Maba?  What magic have you got hidden away my friend?"

M'Sava tried to push past him, growling, "this one is M'Sava, and nothing else, elf!  Allow this one through!"

Loviril maintained his smile, but his eyes grew darker.  "The skooma has not taken hold of me yet, Khajiit, and I must know your secrets.  Reveal them to me and I shall depart from you with dignity."

M'Sava hissed lightly, and pressed his palm to Loviril's chest.  "Move."

Loviril sighed, "very well khajiit, but I warn you that our next meeting will be much less cordial.  A good day to you, and may greater knowledge find its way to you."  He turned, chugged another potion from within his robe, and set off for the third keep.

M'Sava scowled, as he was also planning to head there.  He lingered, but ducked into an alley at the sight of guards approaching.  They seemed more interested in the now rowdy crowd than anything else, though he was beginning to learn that men and mer could change in an instant.  These people who were so enthralled with the sword dance not a minute ago had been corrupted much more than any Khajiit beggar under Sheggorath.  Truly he did not understand how they could allow themselves to fall victim to another’s whims so easily.

An Alfiq refined in the same purples and golds as the Dagi-raht dancer pranced across the alley further in.  M’Sava hesitated, then followed, his curiosity overtaking his excitement for the Potluck.  His grandmother had told him, “ Little Sava, do not trust the alfiq, they are tricksters, and rely on the good nature of others to cast their evil magics!  Now, be a good kitten and bring this one her sugar!”  His grandmother had been an Alfiq herself, but he had not met many others, though he did not doubt her words as he could apply them squarely to her as well.  This Alfiq seemed to jump and twist erratically, little pockets of magic holding it aloft, then pushing it hard into the dirt of the alley, though it did not cry out in pain.  If it knew that it was being followed, it did not give any indication of such.  M’Sava slowed his pace as he passed a pile of food scraps from a tavern, containing the rotted out shell of a dreugh.  Flies had found it first, and had laid enormous eggs, some of which had burst, leaving rapidly drying sticky white residue all over the dirt of the alley.  The smell of rotting fish returned to M’Sava’s nostrils, and he breathed deeply.  His stomach growled, and he realized how long it had been since he had eaten.

“Hey now!” called the Alfiq ahead of him, now facing him, though relaxing on a resplendent pillow, which had not been there before.  “You’ve got to focus!  Get your mind back to where it should be… On me!”

M’Sava was startled, as he had not expected the alfiq’s voice to be quite so gravelled, yet so… songlike.  “What do you mean, alfiq?  Is this some sort of spell?  Begone if you plan to cast magics on this one!”

“Ha!  Haha!  Hahahaha!  Foolish mortal!   Silly mortal!  It would be no fun, no fun at all to place a charm on you.  Though a hex… nay, maybe later.  Ooh, or maybe a melon spell!  No no, focus Sheg!”  The alfiq shook its head, and appeared to refocus its gaze on M’Sava.  “This is my Potluck, and you have brought something in which I did not plan for!  You, a khajiit, who refuses to drink freely given skooma!  Unbridled chaos, wanton destruction of minds and souls, an overabundance of cheese, aye!  Yes!  More!  But it’s almost like you’re competing with me, seeing who can show the more madness!  It’s unacceptable!  Or is it too acceptable?  Who’s to say?  I am!”

M’Sava took a step back, the smell of the rotten dreugh calling him and the alfiq confusing him.  “No!” cried the alfiq.  “You are too small, too mortal to be the cause of your own madness.  You will resist, and become the more mad, so that your cause will show itself to me.  And if no cause is shown, I will destroy you.  It is not time for Jyggy.  Or I’ll turn you into a footstool!”  An alfiq-shaped portal then opened in the side of the alley, and the alfiq was gone in a flash.

3

M’Sava turned heel and ran back to the square where the sword-dance had been, and turned again toward the third keep of the city, a guard ordering him to halt.  The guard gave chase, but M’Sava was too fast for him, and managed to lose him in the milling crowd just inside the third keep.  He breathed a sigh of relief, but it caught in his throat as he saw that same suthay staring down at him from one of the now much more ornate houses.  A small chunk of rotten fish fell from his mouth, flopping onto the cobbled stone below him, but no one in the crowd seemed to notice, enthralled as they were with the riches of the city being disposed of.  Nobles were tossing drakes down into the crowd, some with great force, some from chamber pots, with some in neat packages.  There was a mad scramble to pick up as much coin as possible, with dresses held high being used as improvised scoops, and old wheelbarrows piled with gold.  The nobles above laughed, and their bards played what were probably glorious hymns from high windows, though with so many different songs and the frenzied clinking of coin, the scene seemed far from sacred.  M’Sava looked up, finding his stalker again had vanished.

The clattering of sounds and the smell of so many sweating peasants rushed into M’Sava, knocking him off balance for a moment, his tail reacting faster than his mind.  Growing anxious, he began to bound on all fours like a senche.  The bursting energy of the Potluck was starting to grow in him now.  He had not seen his camel since the entrance to the second keep, and now that he was in the third keep, he had also forgotten that he had planned to gift the man-mane with his grandmother’s moon sugar.  He bounded over the backs of the crowd, unintentionally tearing their clothing and flesh, though he did not notice the blood and viscera on his claws.  He rushed on until the crowd was gone, and the city seemed to calm around him.  His anxiety left him, but he felt something wet in his mouth.  Worried that he was drooling, he swallowed, but whatever was in his mouth resisted, moving the opposite direction of his swallowing.  He stood up again, and gingerly pulled an enormous slug out of his mouth.  It raised its front at him, its eye stalks moving independently to take him in.  

“Hello little one,” he cooed.  “What were you doing in there?  Waiting to warn this one that he should or should not drink the skooma, eh?  This one knows you Sheggorath, and this one will not obey!”  M’Sava had grown tired of this madness, and had decided to confront it head-on.  He felt a clarity that he had not felt since arriving.  This thing, this aspect of his madness could not be real, and neither could the suthay on the rooftops.  He had simply overreacted, because he had been too excited.  It had happened before, but he had grown so much, even since yesterday, and he would not allow it to continue.

The slug oozed out of his grasp, a small puddle plopping onto the cobblestone below.  M’Sava laughed.  He had defeated his madness!  Free at last!

But now, a sound both soft and heavy, gentle but harsh, as a gargantuan arachne emerged over the roofs of the mansions around M’Sava.  The torso of Namiira hung limply before him, obscuring his view of the road before him.  Pus dripping from her head, her spider body crouched above so that she could rest her head on the cool cobblestones.  She croaked, bubbles forming in her throat, “my champion.  How quickly you forget your place.  It has not even been an age.  And yet you come here.  To the abode of an enemy.  You do not follow your baseness.  My gift to you is squandered.  Why do you hunger?  Where is my ring?”

M’Sava crumpled to the ground.  He had forgotten.  He was older than he remembered.  It felt as though a different M’Sava had received his ring, a different M’Sava had worn and used it, and a different M’Sava had forgotten it.  But there it was, on his finger.  And oh, he was so hungry.  It had been months since he had eaten.

“There you are my champion.  Now.  Eat.”  Namiira pulled up from the road, and light and colour returned to the world.

M’Sava rushed through the empty streets, higher and higher, his ears popping every so often and his chest heaving.  The architecture around him grew more and more fantastical, the magic of the bretons and the Direnni history made manifest.  He ignored all this, these empty mansions, for riches would not sate his hunger.  He had to reach the king.  He had to complete the Potluck.

The lone guard at the gate frowned at the cat rushing toward her.  The Potluck did not go this high up, why would it come up here?  Unless… was this cat some sort of assassin?  It certainly wasn’t approaching with any degree of stealth.  She lowered her spear and ordered the cat to stop.

M’Sava could see the guard and her little spear, but he did not fear her.  He rushed headlong into her spear, and he heard her cry out as the spear appeared not through his back, but back out through his belly, near where it had entered, and poked up into her head.  He fell over from the pain, though he was in better shape than the guard at least, who lay quite dead before him.  It had been quite some time since he had killed, and the hunger poured into his mind, and out his mouth came more slugs and spiders.  They roped their way to her open head, and pulled him downward, until his jaws were around her, and he fed.

4

His energy returned, and his wound healed, M’Sava continued into the castle.  The courtyard was empty of life, as were the halls, though books and scrolls covered every available surface, and magically, some otherwise unavailable surfaces.  The stairs had once been wide, but were now narrowed with books.  M’Sava, his hunger unfulfilled by the guard, continued up and through the narrow passages between stacks of books.  The man-mane would be the solution to his hunger.  M’Sava understood now.  How could he have been so blind!  The Potluck, the whole city!  It was like a miniature plane of the Shimmering Isles!  Of course Sheggorath ran this place.  A Potluck?  What could be more mad?  And these piles of books?  Madness!  M’Sava finally felt right here, he had resolved his madness!  He would find the man-mane, and the source of the Potluck, and restore it all to The Void!

But the castle seemed much larger from the inside.  He started to wonder if he was lost, though he had not stopped climbing stairs since he entered, so how could he be?  He paused a moment to look behind him, and there was the alfiq.  He languished lazily, as though M’Sava had not just been on that step.  “Greetings khajiit!  It’s me again, old Sheggorath!  Or should I say not young Sheggorath, compared to your eminence!  Hehe!”

M’Sava sat, resting his back against an unsteady pile of texts, apparently organized by variety of skin cover.  “What is it Adversary?  Do you come to taunt, to gloat against this poor khajiit?”  He reached his hand out to Sheggorath, scratching behind his ears.

“Don’t think I don’t know how absolutely degrading a real alfiq would find this behaviour, Champion of Namiira!  Though I do prefer it to our previous conversation, so don’t stop or you’ll be a sweet-roll in no time, being fought over by children at a birthday party!”

M’Sava continued stroking the alfiq’s neck.  “Er… Right.  This one has figured out your game Sheggorath, and M’Sava will have no part in it.  This one wanted you to know this after he met with your man-mane, your champion, but you’ll know it now.”  He prepared to extend his claws, to tear out the alfiq’s throat, but Sheggorath looked confused.

“Me champion?  Me man-mane?  Nay, this man, this place, they do not belong to me.  I prefer to do the fishy-stick below, with the common rabble.  And they prefer me!  It’s a path of least resistance, if you will, or even if you won’t!  Hahaha!

“Now, go on, don’t let me stop you!  See to this king, and give him Sheggorath’s regards!”  And Sheggorath was gone.

M’Sava was unsure for what felt like the hundredth time today, though this uncertainty seemed much more deadly than any before.  If the man-mane was not a servant of Sheggorath, why would he allow his town to be taken up in this way every year?  Why fill his castle with so many books if he were not totally mad?  Why have his castle be so damned confusing?

Determined, M’Sava continued upward, travelling for an hour, then another, then another.  Bells below rang out, but they seemed quieter every hour, so M’Sava took this as a sign of progress.  The dusty tomes also did not seem to grow any more or less dusty, but he kept noticing new and intriguing works on topics for which he had neither the context nor the capacity to understand.  Only his hunger drove him ever upward, or he would have stopped to sample the literature, to delve into its secrets.

Finally, after several hours of climbing, he reached a platform with no books, papers, or scrolls of any kind.  And here sat Loviril, hovering naked above the platform, Daedric runes carved into the floor, walls, his body covered in them.  Even the air around him had been carved into, runes floating and congealing neatly before the elf.  His back was turned to M’Sava, but he called out to him just the same.  “Hello, Champion of Namiira, please do not make too much noise in my library, I am learning.”

A chill ran up M’Sava’s spine.  This was not what he had expected.  This was a mer corrupted.  This creature was dark, but not evil.  Loviril was cold, but piercing.  M’Sava stood still for what he thought was eternity.  He wondered if Loviril had forgotten he was there.

“No, M’Sava, I have not forgotten you.  You have done this to yourself.  Your dream has lasted for longer than its dreamer.  You have not left this world, this Mundus, as you should have.  And I have watched you enter this city, as I have watched all things in this city.  And I have learned.  But you have not learned anything.  You have regressed.  You have rotted away.  Your knowledge has festered.  There is a wound on you, but rather than allow it to scab over, you have picked and picked, you are your obsession, nothing more.”

Suddenly Loviril was upon M’Sava, a potion being poured into his agape mouth before he could react.  The bottle was a deep jade, and the potion burned, grey vapour filling the air around him.  He could not move.

Loviril’s voice changed, dropping several registers, the timbre becoming older and lilting.  “I would understand you, Champion of Namiira.  She cannot bring you here and expect to defeat me.  But I can give you an understanding of yourself that she never could, infant.  We will exchange in this way, for I am the master of knowledge, and your master is a master of fading away.”

Loviril sprinkled M’Sava’s grandmother’s bowl of moon sugar across M’Sava’s face, and began to eat.