#YEAH BECAUSE IT'S THE CRACK IN THE MIRROR AND SOLO IS A MIRROR SO OBVIOUSLY IT WOULD BE THE CRACK IN HIS MASK

[too-young-to-fall-in-love]

#YES YES YESSSSS ONE OF MY FAVORITES YET#ALL THE MIRROR SYMBOLISM GOES BRRRRR#fate laying in your hands AS THE DISC AND SOLO THROWING THE WATCH AHHHHHHHH#“tell me what you see” WITH SOLOS LITTLE KNOWING EYEBROW RAISE AAAHAGSJAJDHSKLS#the absolute DEVESTATION on Solos face over the “tell me is is true” line SOBBING#also i fucking ADORE the way you cut between the cafe scene and different events in the film that in INGENIUS#LOOKIN SO SLY YOURE DAMN RIGHT HE IS MR SUAVE SUNGLASSES SLOWMO WALK#THE CRACK IN YOUR EYE BEING THE CRACK IN SOLOS MASK HELP I AM UNWELL#ILLYA GETTING THROWN DOWN THE MOUNTAIN FOR YOU MAKE ME STUMBLE AKSHAKKSHSKLA#TIME AFTER TIME LIKE A WATCH KEEPS TIME AND HE THROWS THE WATCH AHHHHHHHHHHH#LOVE LOVE LOOOVVVEEEEE THIS ONE (via @justabigoldnerd)

Mirror Mirror (Look Into My Eyes)

not affiliated with the fanfic of the same name lol

[watchmegetobsessed]

Floating Through Space - Harry Styles

a/n: im literally bursting from excitement over this, i’ve been working on this fic for so long and im pretty satisfied with how it turned out so i hope you’ll like it too! pleas please PLEASE don’t let this flop bc it means a lot to me 🥺 the song featured in the fic is obviously an existing one, i linked it into the right place so you can listen to it and get the vibe of it, that song is what inspired the whole story so i recommend giving it a listen! leave your thoughts and reactions, i can’t wait to read what you thought about the fic!!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

warning: drug use, smut and everything thats wrong with patriarchy lmao

word count: 25.7k

masterlist

This dressing room is no different than the other one thousand you’ve been to. The plaster on the wall is all cracked up, the red bricks peeking from under it in the corner, the dusty couch looks like it’s been through hell and just sitting on it would probably give you STDs. The mirror on the wall is cracked, the few water bottles you’ve gotten are not even cooled, they’re a warm room temperature. The glorious life of a musician, right?

Moments like this you question why you didn’t just choose to be the obedient daughter and became a surgeon like your parents always wanted you to be. You’d have a steady future and a nice income, a decent career instead of having to perform at a different bar every other night for nicks and pennies that barely cover your rent at the end of the month. But that wouldn’t be you. Wearing scrubs, smiling at patients, throwing out your dignity along with your dreams, you wouldn’t have been true to yourself if you chose that life. Besides, you’d still be in school, barely nearing the halfpoint of your education if you decided to go along with your parents’ plan and it’s clearer than daylight that the school system is just not for you. It would be pure torture if you had to sit in classes for a decade just to work a job you never even wanted.

Looking around the small dressing room you cast your eyes over your band that consists of three people. It’s a temporary set up from three guys you met along your way, all of the struggling musicians as you and you saw the as opportunities. Places would rather have a band play with several men in it than just put one single woman on stage and pray for the best. It’s the sexist part of the industry not enough people talk about. You can’t even count how many pitying stares you’ve gotten through the years when you stated that you want to make a career as a solo female singer.

“Honey, you ain’t making it without at least one man behind you,” is what they’ve always told you. So you’ve gotten yourself three until you could stand on your own two feet without a male backup. You’re using them just as much as they are using you. They were already a band when you joined them, the lead singer just disappeared to thin air with her boyfriend and left them incomplete, so you joined forces to navigate your way together in the depth of the music industry, looking for that big jump everyone is dreaming about.

Standing in front of the cracked mirror you fix your eyeliner, checking yourself once again. Your thrifted checkered suit looks radiant on you especially with the neon green see-through top underneath, showing off a black bralette. It’s a male suit, hanging a little baggy on you at places, but you still feel like you’re pulling off the look. Your thick eyeliner makes your eyes appear even bigger than they already are and your hair is in an unruly mop of curls, making your appearance complete.

You’ve received tons of critiques over your outfits, but they are the only thing you are not changing on yourself.

“Don’t wear men’s pants.”

“You’d look better in a dress.”

“Why do you look like a guy?”

“What a shame to hide such a gorgeous body in clothes that weren’t meant for girls.”

Each and every comment is burned into your mind forever and you’ll never stop fighting against the judgment women has to face for not being the conventional beauty all females are expected to be.

There’s a knock on the door and the person behind it barges in without waiting for an answer. The tall, bald guy rushes in, looking a little stressed, but that’s kind of the normal for the owner.

“I’m not sure how to say it, but… you are not performing tonight,” he simply states and your anger sets in faster than ever. You’ve had gigs get cancelled, but not minutes before going on stage. However, he is still not done with his little informative speech. “And your instruments need to be used by another band tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Trey, the drummer jumps to his feet. “No way I’m letting someone else play my drum set!”

“You’ll get half the money if you let it happen,” the owner answers.

“Wait, what band did you find minutes before start?” you ask in complete shock.

“There’s this group celebrating a birthday in the VIP section and some boy band is apparently with them. Birthday girl requested to have the stage for them.”

“And you’re just cancelling on us that easily?” you snap.

“Not that I have a choice. If I don’t do it they are leaving and I’m losing a big amount from the night. Sorry guys, but this is strictly business.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” you laugh bitterly, staring up at the ceiling. This would have been a great chance for all of you, you’ve been trying to get a gig here for months, knowing that a lot of people from the industry fancies it, you might have caught someone’s eyes, but it’s definitely not happening now.

“Are you letting them use your stuff or not?” he urges, hands on his hips as he looks at the four of you impatiently.

“But what about our gig? We’ve been on the waiting list for months, when can we actually perform?”

“Uh, I don’t know. We’re pretty booked, maybe sometime in the summer?”

“Summer?” you gasp in disbelief. “It’s fucking February!”

“Are you lending them your stuff or not? I don’t have the time for your little tantrum!”

“Yeah, if we get the money they can use it,” Connor, the bass guitarist answers before you explode right then and there. The owner walks out with that, leaving the four of you behind, forgotten and humiliated.

“I can’t fucking believe it,” Trey groans, plopping down on the couch, covering his eyes with his tattooed arm.

“This is fucking bullshit,” you scoff under your breath, reaching for your bag to grab your pack of cigarettes you keep in it especially for cases like this, whenever you are about to go around and punch every living thing in the face in your reach.

Kicking the backdoor open you lean against the cold brick wall as you light the cigarette and start puffing vigorously, trying to get as much nicotine into your system as possible. You notice a group of guys standing near you in the alleyway, laughing on something, having a great time, oblivious to how hurt and angry you are feeling just a few feet away. You hear frictions of their conversation and it’s clear they are British judging from the accents that are hitting your ears. You finish your cigarette pretty fast and immediately reach for another one even though you know you shouldn’t have even smoked that first one, but you just can’t help it. It’s either the smoking or you’re going after the owner and kick him in the balls for being a bitch.

“Oi, can I ask for one?”

Glancing to the side you see that one of the guys has approached you, smiling at you warmly he nods towards the pack in your hands. Nodding you hold it out for him and he takes one. Before he could even ask for the lighter, you throw it at him and he catches it easily.

“Thanks,” he nods, holding the cigarette between his lips before lighting it and passing the lighter back to you.

“Lou, you really shouldn’t smoke,” you hear one of the others speak up as the rest of the group slowly joins you and the one you just helped out.

“S’fine, don’t act like me motha’,” he shrugs, taking a drag from the cigarette.

“At least not before we go on stage,” the blonde one shakes his head at his friend and your eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, so you’re the band that’s gonna play?” you ask with a forced smile, already feeling your blood boiling. Who the fuck they are and why do they deserve to steal your gig?!

“We’re just playing a couple of songs,” another speaks up shrugging his shoulders. “No big deal.”

“Glad it’s no big deal to you, because it would have been to the band that was robbed from tonight because of you,” you spat at them, clearly surprising them with your harsh reply.

“I assume you are part of that band, right?” the on with the curly hair speaks up, his green eyes burning down at you.

“Nice job, Sherlock,” you groan, taking another drag from your cigarette.

“You could play with us,” he offers, the others nodding in agreement.

“I don’t need your pity,” you scowl at them. “Bringing me on stage to try to make yourselves look like the good guys is not necessary. I’m just fed up with people like you.” The truth is coming out of you easier than ever. All the years on injustice is seemingly erupting from you, pouring down on these five.

“People like us?” the dark haired one asks with a confused look.

“Yeah,” you nod with a bitter chuckle. “Five conventionally hot guys grouped together for a band, making every girl between the age of ten and thirty scream just by a wink. I don’t know where you came from, but I’m betting my head that you’ve had it easier than others.”

“It’s not nice to assume things when you don’t know anything about us,” Curly speaks up, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, I’ve seen enough not to care about what’s nice and what’s not,” you chuckle shaking your head as you take another long puff from your cigarette and throw the butt to the ground, stepping on it. “Who are you even? Some Back Street Boys 2.0?” you ask, folding your arms on your chest, earning a heartfelt laugh from the blondie.

“I kinda like her,” he smirks around his friends. “We’re called One Direction, you haven’t heard of us?”

“Not even once,” you shake your head.

“That’s kinda humbling,” the one with the cigarette smiles. “We’re from the UK. I’m Louis, that’s Liam, Niall, Zayn and Harry.”

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but it would be nicer if you guys didn’t just take my gig and lessen me with half my paycheck,” you smile at them sweetly before rolling your eyes.

“Wait, what? They’re not paying you because of us?” Liam asks.

“We only get half the money for lending you our instruments.”

“Let us pay the other half then,” Harry offers right away, but you just laugh at him.

“It’s not about the money, Prince Harry,” you smirk at him, tilting your head to the side. “It’s about justice. How is that air that you just waltz in here and take our time and chance? What if there’s a producer out there who would have liked our music and offered a record deal? What if someone would have taken a video of us performing, put it up to YouTube and it would have gone viral? I assume you never had to go through this phase where you have to beg for every minute on stage so you can at least earn enough money to pay rent. You don’t seem like the type of band who had to perform in smelly bars four times a week for a ridiculous amount of money.”

They stay silent and you know you were right.

“I’m not saying you had it easy, but I’m sure you have no idea what it could have been. And I’m fed up with men walking over others just to have what they want.”

“Look, it wasn’t our intention to ruin your gig. Have your set with your band and then we’ll play a few songs too after that,” Liam offers, but you shake your head.

“No, we weren’t supposed to be just your opening act and it’ll turn into that. So have a nice evening, enjoy your showtime, I’m out.”

Pushing yourself away from the wall you walk back into the building and grabbing your stuff from the dressing room you move out to the bar area, desperately needing a drink.

Sitting on the last stool at the bar you ask for straight tequila and two vodka shots knowing it’ll do the job for the evening and pulling your phone out of your bag, you open up Google. Searching the name One Direction you’re met with quite a few hits and you start scrolling through them, reading about the five boys you just had an encounter with. Just as you thought, they didn’t start off as a traditional band, having put together at a talent show just three years ago, getting such a major push so early in their career, they have no idea how struggling it is to make it in the industry. They surely had their fair share of ups and downs, but they will never know what it’s like to sweat blood and tears for your dream when everyone just wants to drag you down and tell you you’ll never make it.

The shots and half of the tequila is gone, your band joined you to at least get wasted as you watch the technicians set the stage for a band that’s not you, but gonna play with your stuff. Sitting on the stool you’re having a fairly good time thanks to the alcohol when you spot Harry making his way towards you in the crowd.

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready backstage?” you ask with an eyeroll as he joins your little circle, the guys eyeing him curiously. Ignoring your comment he pulls out a piece of paper handing it to you. As you unfold it you almost want to throw it back at him.

“This is to make up for what you lost tonight,” he says nodding down at the check in your hands.

“I told you I don’t need your money,” you firmly answer, but Trey grabs the check from your hands.

“But I do!” he snorts. He is such a pig.

“Let us do at least this one thing for you. We really do feel bad for taking your time and the offer to come on stage with us still stands.”

“No thank you,” you shoot him a fake smile before downing the rest of your tequila, the drink burning down your throat. Looking back at Harry you keep your eye locked on him as he watches you intently. He is a good-looking guy, you have to give that to him, but the circumstances you’ve met under just made it impossible for you not to hate him for the privileges he is being handed every day while you fight your way through life.

Harry sighs in defeat nodding as he licks his lips. For a split second, guilt takes over you for the way you’ve been acting towards him and the other boys, but then you remember that you don’t even know him. For all you know, he can be a royal asshole with the face of an angel. You can’t let guilt chew you and spit you out, you have to keep your guards up.

“Alright. We really are sorry. I’ll… see you around,” he nods before turning around to walk away.

You watch them perform their biggest hits, the whole place going crazy over the impromptu One Direction concert they just got for basically free. The VIP area is going crazy over the boys and with each sang song, you feel yourself getting more and more hopeless about your future as a musician. Here you are on a Saturday night, robbed from a job you’ve worked hard for, watching five British boys take your place on the stage that’s supposed to be yours tonight. You catch Harry’s eyes quite often while he is on stage, he keeps glancing in your way, a hint of guilt glistening in his green irises as he sings their songs with perfect vocals. You can tell he feels bad for the situation and you didn’t make it any easier on him or any of the boys, but you’re not really one to beat around the bush. They deserved to know what others in the industry below them have to deal with every day. It’s not always as glamorous as people might think and you’re the living example of that.

You don’t stick around for long after the boys are done on stage, you help your bandmates pack their stuff and head home before Harry or any other members of One Direction can find you.

Walking past the news stand that’s on the corner of your street, you stop upon seeing your own face smiling back at you from the cover of People Magazine, the title catching your attention.

“Grammy nominee Y/N Y/L/N shares her secret to her one of a kind fashion style.”

Grabbing the magazine off the stand you pay for it and continue your way home, holding the copy to your chest with a warm feeling in your heart.

It’s been only a week since the nominations have come out, but it still feels like a dream. You didn’t just get nominated in the category of Best New Artist, but your album Hands of Power got nominated as Best Album and your biggest hit of last year, Sleepless is running for the title of Best song. Three nominations the first time earning a spot on the list. Not bad.

Just as you walk into your place, your phone buzzes, the ever so smiling face of your manager staring back at you from the screen.

“Hey!” you sing into the phone, holding it to your ear with your shoulder, taking off your boots as you walk further down the hallway.

“Are you home already?”

“Yes, just arrived.”

“Great, I’ll be there in ten,” she announces and ends the call. Chuckling you just shake your head, dropping the phone to the coffee table before you move to the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. The flared jeans looked fire on you today, but you rather wear something looser when you’re at home.

You barely have the time to start the water for a tea when Taylor storms through your door using her keys you’ve given her some time ago. She is wearing all white that looks fantastic with her almond skin tone, a knitted sweater tucked into a maxi skirt, paired with strappy heels, she is always so elegant and perfectly dressed for whatever occasion.

“I have knee-shaking news, girl!” she announces as she throws her purse to the couch before joining you in the kitchen.

“I’m going to be the next Bond girl?” you joke smiling to yourself as you get two mugs from the cupboard.

“Better than that!” she cheers. “You are going to perform at the Grammy’s, baby!” she screams throwing her hands into the air as your jaw drops to the floor.

“You’re not just kidding with me, right?!”

“I would never play such a dirty joke with you. It’s one hundred percent true, I had an hour long phone call with some bloke today and they want you.”

“Yes!” you scream in excitement, jumping up and down like a child that just got a pack of candy. “I’ll make the Grammy’s my bitch!” you cheer, making Taylor laugh.

“Alright, Miss Dominatrix. We still have a lot of things to discuss and there’s one more thing about the performance.”

“Oh God, is this the part where you say something that ruins it completely?” you sigh in defeat as you take the kettle and pour the water into the mugs, dropping a filter into each.

“I don’t think it ruins it,” she shakes her head, but you have a feeling you won’t like what she has to say. “They want it to be like a… joined performance. You’d start off with Sleepless, then it would kind of mesh into your partner’s song and they would end it with one of their own songs.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound bad,” you nod.

“See?” she smiles warmly.

“Do we know who I’m going to perform with?”

“Harry Styles.”

You almost drop both mugs the moment the name is mentioned, but you manage to get them to the kitchen island and slip them to the counter, Taylor giving you a questioning look at your wide-eyed expression.

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s… gonna work,” you clear your throat.

“You’re not sure your duet with the biggest male artist can work? Why is that?”

Licking your lips you try to find the right words to say it, but you’re not even sure why you got so shocked over it. Probably because the last time you saw him, you were still nobody, playing gigs at no name bars and he took your spot on the stage with One Direction. It’s weird, but since you’ve finally made it in the industry, you haven’t crossed paths with him and this would be the first time you meet after seven years.

“I’m not sure if he remembers it, but we’ve met before.”

“You and Harry?”

“Yes. I was playing with The Gambits years ago, it was before I started putting out covers on my own. We were supposed to play at this bar but they cancelled on us, because One Direction was there that night and someone wanted them to play instead of us, so we lost the gig. I had a pretty… harsh conversation with him and the band, basically telling them that their pretty man privilege is what ruins the careers of talented women.” “Oh Jesus, Y/N. Why haven’t I heard of this before?” Taylor sighs leaning on her elbows on the countertop.

“Not that it’s something that would just come up in a conversation,” you shrug. “And as I said, he might not even remember it. It was a long time ago.”

“I know you are all about your rebellious past, good for you, but sometimes you’re making my job really fucking hard,” she sighs, grabbing her phone, already typing a message to God knows who. “Starting beef with Harry Styles before you even made a name for yourself? Who does that?”

“It’s not beef!” you protest. “I just gave them my piece of mind.”

“We’ll see what he thinks about it. I have to make a few calls,” she announces before walking out, already on the phone with someone.

Sitting on a stool, staring into your mug you think back at the time you met him. It feels like a lifetime ago when you were fighting to stay afloat, trying to make through the days, barely hanging on a thread. You didn’t know that five years later you’d sign your first record deal as a solo artist and seven years from that night, you’d be a Grammy nominee. It was a long and challenging time for sure with way more downs than ups until you finally got on track and you’ll never forget where you came from. Not when even as an acknowledged artist, you still face judgment and hatred no matter what you do. Being a solo female singer sometimes feels like harder than being president of the country and there are just so many things that need to change in the world of music, you will never stop fighting for girls that are in the same shoe you once were.

Through the years you’ve followed the career of the boys, especially Harry’s. You read about Zayn’s parting, their so-called hiatus and how they all went solo soon after. Genre-wise Harry’s work is what stands the closest to you, and you’ve witnessed all the backlash he has faced during his time in the spotlight. The shaming for whatever women he chose to date, his choice to get into acting and the way he has been dressing. People just don’t seem to understand they can’t have control over any of these and they’ve tried to bring him down one too many times, but he has been thriving lately, anyone can see that.

Your mug empties out by the time Taylor returns, taking her previous stop at the kitchen island.

“Alright, I set up a meeting with Harry and his manager for tomorrow. They still haven’t decided on the performance and apparently, Harry would like to meet you before giving his answer.”

“Oh God, he remembers me,” you growl under your breath.

“Or maybe he doesn’t and just wants to meet the person he is supposed to perform with. We can never know. We’re meeting them at his manager’s office at eleven tomorrow.”

One night is enough to make you go crazy over such a small thing as meeting someone. It’s not like you are nervous to see him because of who he is, it’s more about knowing what he thinks about you after all these years, in case he remembers you. He saw you as a struggling artist at rock bottom and though your encounter didn’t last long and he didn’t know you on a deeper, personal level, you still fear that he remembers and thinks that you’ve lost yourself over the years.

Authenticity has been a huge issue in your life. Early in your career, everyone wanted to change you. The way you dress, your hair, the style of music you write, nothing was good enough as it was, they wanted you to become someone else, someone who was not you. You fought all attempts until the right person came through and accepted you as yourself, but a tiny voice in the back of your mind kept telling you that they succeeded, that somewhere along the fight you did lose yourself and became what you always feared to be.

Meeting Harry is like meeting a piece of your past and having to face what you’ve become. It’s going to be like a mirror right in front of you and what you’ll see might not be what you expect.

Wearing your bright red dungaree with an oversized vintage shirt and a pair of white sneakers, you definitely don’t look like you’re dressed for a business meeting, but when did you ever? Pushing your hair back with a pair of cat eye shades, you leave a little earlier, knowing well traffic is horrible in these hours. You arrive to the office building just minutes before eleven, Taylor has already texted that she has arrived and which office you should come to. When you finally find the door you’ve been looking for, you take a moment to yourself before knocking.

“Come in!” a male voice calls out and you walk in. Taylor is sitting on the sofa that’s pushed against the wall on the left, a man is sitting behind the enormous desk and then there is Harry, standing by the window, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black slacks, and old Rolling Stones t-shirt hanging loosely on his frame as his eyes meet yours upon your arrival.

“Hey, I would say I’m sorry for being late, but I’m actually exactly on time,” you smirk, closing the door behind you. The man stands from the desk and walking around he meets at the front, holding a hand out for you.

“Perfectly on time,” he smiles warmly. “I’m Jeffrey Azoff, nice to meet you.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too.”

“And this here is Harry,” he motions towards the man who has stepped closer and as you look back at him, you’re met with a blank expression for a moment so you can’t figure out if he remembers you or not. But then, a tiny smile tugs on his lips as he holds his hand out for you.

“We’ve met before, right?” he simply questions, and your eyes flicker over to Taylor in a kind of “See? I told you!” manner before you look back at Harry and shake his hand.

“Yeah, we have,” you nod. “A long time ago.”

“Congrats for your nominations,” he smirks, his hand letting go of yours and your let out a soft chuckle.

“Well, thank you. Back at you.”

“Alright, why don’t we start this discussion? We have a lot to go over,” Jeff suggests and you sit beside Taylor while Harry stays near the window, as if he is trying to soak up the sunshine coming through it that’s painting his skin a golden shade.

The concept is simple. The performance would be a mashup from Sleepless and Harry’s song Golden with an exciting and fresh way of mixing the two songs together in the middle, making your song flow into his in a smooth and effortless way. The songs sound compatible and you already have an idea how to mash them together for the transition, but you can’t help but feel doubts over the performance.

“What are your concerns exactly?” Jeff questions.

“Not to come off too harsh, but why is my song the first one?” you ask, earning a few puzzled looks. “If Harry finishes it off, he is going to be the one people will remember more and he’ll get the applause as well. The riffs in the songs allow them to be switched, how come it’s not me who comes second?”

You can see the shock on Jeffrey’s face at how straight-forward you were about your concern and that you even dared to speak up about the issue. He clearly hasn’t had to face anything similar before and when he glances at Harry you follow his gaze as well, but instead of shock, what you see on his face is amusement. He is smirking, tapping his fingers against his chin as he stares back at you.

“She has a point,” he nods and you take a deep breath. For a moment, you really thought this is going to be the part where you are thrown off and Harry makes the performance only his.

“I, uhh—this is what’s been requested,” Jeff answers and you tilt your head.

“Okay, can we make a request to change it?” you simply ask, eyeing Taylor next to you who is typing on her iPad vigorously, taking notes of everything that’s said. She is already used to what you’re like, she is not even surprised you came up with the prompt to change.

“Hold on, so just because you want to be second, you get to be?” Harry questions, but he doesn’t come off as harsh, it seems like he is entertained by the conversation. “Does this mean I don’t deserve to be the second one?”

“That’s-That’s not what I meant,” you answer, taken aback from his accusation and you hate to admit, but he is right. You addressed the issue, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the spot either.

“Alright, so then we need to seek a solution that benefits the both of us,” he offers, walking closer from the sunlight and you follow his every movement.

“We could do some kind of medley? Do an ultimate mashup from more songs and have more smaller parts split between us, finishing it together,” you suggest and he nods.

“That could work, but I have something else on my mind.”

“And what would that be?” Jeff asks, a little lost about the situation as he watches the two of you exchange ideas.

“We could write a song together, a duet, and perform that instead of our solo stuff.”

“What?” you snap right away. “You want to write a whole new song just for the Grammy’s?”

“Why not?” he smiles carefreely. “We have almost two entire months to do it, albums have been written in shorter periods, I’m sure we can handle just one song. And I think a collaboration would be a hit for the both of us now.”

You look at Taylor who just stares back at you, ignoring the panic in your eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” she tells you. “I can see the collaboration working, it could be a huge hit.”

“And what, we’re gonna release it as a single after the show? Whose song is it going to be? I don’t have an album coming up until next year, do you get to have it on your third one then?”

“We can put it out as just a single. No one has to have it on any albums,” Harry replies. “If we released it after the show, it would be just the right timing. Neither of us had any new songs out in a while.” Clenching your jaw you’re trying to find a way out of this collaboration, though you’re not even sure yourself why. Taylor sees right through you, knowing well you’re planning your escape, but she has other plans apparently.

“Y/N, let’s have a few words outside,” she pushes herself up and pulls you with her. Once the door is shut behind the two of you she starts right away. “What the fuck is your problem? The song is a huge thing, it would be an instant hit with him on it!”

“Why do I need a song with him to stay relevant?” you question, folding your arms on your chest.

“No one said it’s about that. But we both know it would be a great push to your name that Jordan has stomped over not so long ago, calling you a Feminist Nazi.”

“Don’t even fucking mention him!” you whisper yell, refusing to even think about that trashbag of a man that ruined your life with his fake accusations.

“Look, I know what you are thinking, that you’ll be seen as just an object next to him, a pair of boobs and nice legs, but that’s not his brand. He doesn’t need you to be sexy next to him, he is known for his honest and real works that go farther than just twerking and being a hoe. We both know he produces meaningful music, so why are you so against it?”

“I just… I-I’m scared to work with him,” you finally admit and it’s the first thing today that surprises Taylor.

“Scared? Thought you’re not scared of anything,” she huffs.

“I never said that,” you give her a look. “Harry met me when I was nobody, it was just me and my big mouth, trying to find my breakout. What if we start working together and he sees that I completely lost that version of myself? I would feel like a liar, an impostor.”

“You are overreacting,” Taylor sighs. “You’ve changed on your way here, but I doubt you are that far from the girl he met before. I know we didn’t meet just a few years after, but I can assure you, you’re still that big-mouthed pain in the ass who fights every norm in the industry like no one else.”

You know she is right, she is always right. Taylor knows you too well, that’s why you love working with her, but sometimes, her honesty throws you way off, especially when she is stating the truth.

The two of you rejoin the two men in the office and they both look at you with anticipation as you fold your arms on your chest and move your gaze over to Harry.

“I would… love to work on a song with you.”

When you agreed to work with Harry you didn’t think you’d find yourself heading over to his house a few days later to have a writing session, but he offered right away that day in the office and Taylor accepted it before you could protest. You’ve had a day filled with meetings and fittings and now you’re rolling up his driveway after punching the security code in that he shared with you over text.

You’ve exchanged numbers on the spot and just like that, you’ve become one of the few people on this world that could contact Harry Styles anytime they want to.

You chose to be casual for the occasion, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a white hoodie, you like to be comfortable whenever you’re working on new music and Harry’s presence won’t change your ways about that. You’re not sure what to expect, if you’re being honest you’re still afraid of being alone with Harry and do such an emotional thing together as writing a song.

The front door opens just as you get out of your car, grabbing your bag from the passenger seat. Harry walks out wearing a pair of shorts and a green hoodie, looking like he hasn’t left the house all day.

“Hey, you found the address easily?” he asks smiling as you walk up to him.

“Yeah, everything went fine.”

“Do you want something to drink or eat maybe?” he offers as the two of you walk inside. If you’re being honest, you’re starving, the last time you had anything to eat was between two meetings around ten, but nothing since then, just a granola bar. But you’re a first time guest, you can’t just eat up his fridge, like you’re old pals, right?

However, Harry can see right through you.

“You haven’t had anything in a long time, right?” he softly asks and you purse your lips, feeling awkward already and you haven’t been here for more than two minutes. “I can make you a sandwich, if you’d like.” “Harry, no need, I—“ “No need, but I want to. Come on,” he nods at you, making you follow him into the kitchen. “So, who would have thought we would be here now, huh?” he smirks at you as he gathers the ingredients and starts working on your food while you sit on one of the stools at his kitchen island.

“Not me,” you admit chuckling. “I kind of didn’t think I would see you again, I mean, personally. I was seeing you a lot on TV after that.”

“Now might be a good time to confess that, that night wasn’t the last time I saw you.”

“What?”

“I went to one of your gigs a few weeks later. Stayed at the back, I just really wanted to see you play.”

“And what did you think?” you ask tilting your head to the side. Harry smirks, his eyes meeting yours before they return to the food under his hands.

“You absolutely smashed it. And I felt even worse for taking your time away that night. The people were robbed from a mind-blowing performance and had to see five annoying guys clown on the stage,” he laughs making you chuckle too. “I wasn’t surprised when your name surfaced a few years later. Knew you’d make it at one point.” He joins you at the island and slides the plate in front of you with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” you mumble smiling shyly before you start eating and only after the first bite you feel just how hungry you’ve been. “Now that we are at it, I want to apologize for the way I talked to you guys back then. I feel like I was a bigger asshole than I should have been and the whole situation wasn’t entirely your fault.”

“No need to apologize,” he shakes his head. “You were absolutely right. We had no business being on stage that night and what you said actually made us think about where we came from and appreciate our career more. You were right about having it easy at the beginning. We never had the phase where we had to push our way to the top like other artists, our first days were broadcasted on TV, giving us the biggest push ever.”

It’s good to hear he is not holding grudges against you for whatever went down in the past. You eat in silence while Harry types a response to a message on his phone before turning it with the screen down to pay his full attention to you.

“I actually just messaged Niall that we are working together and he is losing his shit over it,” he chuckles softly.

“You guys still talk?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Not all of us thought,” he adds, pressing his lips together.

“You miss being with the band?”

“It’s… good to rely on someone in certain situations. As a solo artist, you only have yourself and that’s about it. But I think you already know that.”

“I never really liked being in a band,” you admit.

“How come? I think you fit in well with The Gambits.”

You shrug, chewing on your bite slowly. It’s probably not the best time to admit that you prefer working on your own, when you’re about to get into a duet with him.

“I uhh… I always imagined myself being a solo artist and I just couldn’t stay with the guys too long, especially when I got my record deal.”

“Why?” Letting out a long breath you lick your lips looking at him.

“I would have never made it in a band with three guys. It would have always been about which one I’m sleeping with, who am I having an affair with or if I’m lesbian because I’m not hooking up with any of them. This is just how it goes for women.”

Harry stays quiet, taking your words in as you finish the sandwich that was literally lifesaving. You wash the plate even when he tells you to just leave it in the sink, and once that’s done, the two of you move over to his little home studio in the basement of his house.

“So, where do we start?” you ask, making yourself comfortable in one of the armchairs while he grabs an acoustic guitar and sits on the one next to you.

“How do you usually start writing?” he asks scratching his chin before he rests his hands on the body of the guitar.

“Well, most of the times I write when I’m pissed about something,” you huff and Harry smirks at you.

“Nothing pissed you off lately?”

“Not enough to make me write a song,” you point out. “See, this is one of the reasons why I was hesitant to write a song with you. It doesn’t come that easily for me.”

“And what were the other reasons?” You shut your mouth at his question, you weren’t expecting him to pick it up, but apparently, he listens more than you thought.

“It’s… a long story.”

“And we have all the time,” he smiles slyly. “But of course, don’t feel pressured to share. I just thought it would be nice to get to know each other more so we can work together easier.”

Harry starts strumming his guitar gently, playing random riffs as you watch him, chewing on your bottom lip. Taylor asked you to try and be more open than you usually are and though part of you wants to keep the wall high between you and him, something is telling you to try and reach out to him.

“I didn’t want to do it, because I didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face next to you. In duets between a man and a woman, females are often seen as just an object, a sight for the eyes but not as serious artists. I worked hard to be taken seriously and I was hesitant about collaborating with you even though your music is not necessarily what I should fear.”

Harry looks back at you with an unreadable expression and you feel like he is judging you for standing up for yourself. Your fight for yourself is often mistaken as “being a bitch” or “being too sensitive” and the amount of times you’ve been told to just chill is upsetting.

“Well, good thing then that I won’t write music about twerking,” he then finally speaks up, a smile breaking his blank expression.

“But you do write a lot about sex,” you point out with a smirk.

“That I do, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be sexist at the same time.”

“You’re right,” you nod smiling.

 The writing process turns out to be harder than you thought. You’re not specifically inspired and Harry is the person to just throw things around until he finds something he likes. The two of you put together is kind of chaotic as you try to come up with something useful.

Two hours later you have a raw version of a melody that could serve as a chorus, but nothing else, no full melody, no lyrics. And if you’re being honest, you don’t like that chorus that much either.

“It’ll be fun to just stand on stage for three minutes and do absolutely nothing, because we couldn’t write anything,” you groan, sliding lower in your seat, rubbing your face with your hands.

“It’s literally our first session and we have plenty of time, Y/N. Don’t stress about it.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You don’t know how not to stress?”

“I literally haven’t had a stressfree day since about 2007, so no, I don’t know.”

“You can’t chill even when you smoke?” he asks and you give him a puzzled look. “What, you smoke, don’t you?”

“Cigarettes? I put it down in 2015.”

“No, I’m not talking about cigarettes,” Harry chuckles softly. “You don’t smoke weed?” You shyly shake your head. “Really? I would have sworn you’re the type to relax with a good joint. Want to try it?”

“What? Now?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Why not?” he shrugs and walks over to the little side table in the corner of the room and reaching into it he simply pulls a little plastic bag out with three joints in them.

“Are you just casually keeping joints around your house?”

“I don’t really smoke them, they make me feel sleepy. But some of my friends like it so I keep a few around,” he explains as he takes one out and puts the rest back. “You want to try?”

“I-I’m not sure… I have to drive back home.”

“You can stay for the night, I have three guest bedrooms,” he shrugs before his eyes meet yours. “Again, not trying to pressure you, I’m just offering.”

“Are you gonna smoke?”

“We can share one if you want. I would recommend smoking one by yourself for the first time.”

“Okay,” you nod shortly as you watch him tip-tap the joint a little, rolling it between his fingers before he takes it between his lips and reaches for a lighter. “Wait, shouldn’t we do it somewhere outside? The smoke is gonna get stuck in here.”

Harry stops, thinking about what you said and he nods. Grabbing the guitar he asks you to follow him and the two of you move up and out to the terrace, sinking into his lounge chairs. You bring your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you watch Harry light the joint and take the first few puffs. As he exhales the smoke he holds the joint out for you and you take it, hesitantly putting it between your lips as you inhale for the first time. You can’t help but scowl at the taste, the whole act of smoking feeling strange after years of smoking your last cigarette. You keep it down a little before puffing the smoke out and passing the joint back to Harry.

You keep switching until you make it past half of it and you finally start to feel the effect of it. You feel light, like you’re floating in the pool that’s in front of you, you can almost feel the water touching your skin yet you’re still dry.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, blinking at you with hooded eyes.

“I’m feeling… fine,” you chuckle softly as you take the joint from him and drag from it again. “Do you do other drugs?”

“I’ve done shrooms a few times, not often though. I’m not trying to pick up an addiction,” he smiles softly, running a hand through his hair. “Have you done anything?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Didn’t have the money for it before and then didn’t have time later. But I never really felt the need either.”

“And you said you put down the cigarette as well?”

“Yeah. I knew I had to do that sooner or later, it was starting to change my voice and I couldn’t have that.”

“That’s what we always told Louis, that his voice will turn to shit if he keeps smoking,” Harry chuckles softly, dragging from the joint before he passes it over to you, not much left of it.

“Did he ever stop?”

“I think he put it down when his son was born, but I don’t know if he started again.”

You give the joint back for him to finish it and you watch him put it out in the ashtray before he sinks down in the lounge chair, closing his eye for a bit, breathing steadily. You find it amusing how you can still see the guy that handed you a check years ago at that bar, trying to make things right, but he also looks like a completely different person at the same time. He is more mature and open in his mindset and just the way he approaches things in general. The Harry you met seven years ago was still searching his way, but the version lying next to you now is a lot more confident in who he really is.

“Want to take a picture?” he hums keeping his eyes closed.

“What?”

His eyes peel open and turn to face you, a smug smirk on his lips.

“You’ve been staring at me. Take a picture, it lasts longer.”

“You are way too full of yourself,” you scoff and pushing yourself up from the lounge chair you walk over to the edge of the pool, mesmerized by the way the light is dancing on the surface.

You never really thought about what weed would feel like in your system, but it feels oddly tranquil and relaxing. In a way your body feels a little strange, like it’s not even yours, but you also sense everything very… loudly.

“You alright?” you hear Harry’s voice coming from behind, the tapping on his feet signaling that he is walking closer to you.

“Yeah,” you nod without taking your eyes off of the water.

“Do you want to go for a swim?”

“What?” you breathe out turning to face him.

“Do you want to go in?” he rephrases his question with a small smile.

“I don’t… have a bathing suit,” you answer and the moment the words leave your mouth they feel so ridiculous even when you were just stating the truth.

“Okay, but you are wearing underwear, aren’t you?” he smirks. “Or I’m completely fine if you want to go in naked,” he adds smugly.

“Shut up,” you chuckle. “Can you… maybe give me a pair of shorts? I’m fine without a bra when I come out but I would rather have my underwear on dry.”

“Sure,” he hums and turning around he jogs back into the house while you stay right there, staring at the water again.

With each passing moment you get calmer, the outside world and everything in life that’s not happening right in this moment eases into nothingness, your mind numbs in the best way possible.

When Harry returns he is wearing a pair of yellow swimming shorts, two towels are thrown over his shoulders and he has a pair of white shorts in his hands.

“This is the smallest thing I have, I think it’ll be fine,” he comments handing you the shorts.

“Thanks,” you nod before he shows you the way to the closest bathroom where you change out of your clothes leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the counter, you put on the shorts that are a little big on you, but once you’ve tied the strings it seems to be staying up steadily. Your simple black bra is not showing more than what a bikini top would, so you feel fine walking out in your attire.

Harry is sitting at the edge of the pool, his legs moving around in the water. His head lifts hearing your steps and he smiles at you, standing up when you arrive.

“Fits fine,” he nods, taking a look at the shorts.

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

Walking over to the steps you dip your feet in first, testing the temperature before you start going in further, Harry following you right behind. Just as you expected, the water feels smooth against your skin, warmly caressing and swallowing your body as you get in, the surface reaching your chest. You let your arms move around, feel how the water runs through your fingers, it’s amusing and you enjoy it probably more than you should. It’s just water, but right now it feels like a pile of clouds.

“I know I suggested to smoke and then swim, but please don’t drown into my pool, I won’t be able to talk myself out of that,” he chuckles, easing him into the water until it reaches his neck.

“My life is in your hands, Harry,” you smirk at him before you follow him and let the water swallow your whole body up to your neck.  “This feels so nice.”

“Yeah? You like it?” he smirks.

“Mm, like I’m… floating through space.”

“In a sense, you are floating in the water,” he chuckles. “You don’t feel sick, right?”

“No, I’m fine,” you smile at him shortly.

You move over to the edge of the pool, laying your arms to the side, holding yourself up so your legs could float in the water. You watch Harry dive under and swim across the pool, reaching the far end before he pushes himself over to you.

“When I went to see you perform there was a song I really liked, but I never found it anywhere later.”

“Which one?”

“The chorus went like… Crashing and crumbling, I’m fighting for my breath, Today won’t be the day I’m meeting death…”

You suck on your breath, surprised how well he remembered the lines even after so many years. He recalled them perfectly, even singing the melody a little with them.

“I never recorded it in studio,” you admit quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because it felt too emotional and I didn’t want it to be just out there.”

“What was the name of the song?”

“It’s called Till I Die. I wrote it when…” You take a deep breath, feeling heavy just by talking about it, but something is urging you to share it with him. “I left from home right after I graduated high school, broke contact with my parents completely and I had a few very rough years, trying to just… keep myself alive, I guess.”

“Can I ask why you left your parents?”

“We had very different visions of what I should become. And I didn’t intend to live the life they imagined for me. My parents are very… traditional, my career in their eyes is just some kind of circus when I’m the clown on the stage. They don’t take any of it seriously and they made it very clear at the beginning that they don’t want me to become a musician. I was supposed to become a surgeon, my dad is one and my mom is in criminal law, they both worked very hard to get to where they are, but they don’t think that’s exactly what I’m doing as well.”

The last person you shared it with was Taylor and though it feels odd to open up about these old wounds again, but having Harry as the one listening to you just feels right.

“You haven’t talked to them since you left?”

“No,” you shake your head.

“And they didn’t even try to contact you?”

“Well, I made sure they couldn't. Changed my number first thing I set my feet outside the house and I never left them any of my addresses. I know it sounds cruel, but I didn’t want to do anything with them after the shaming they put me through when I told them I don’t want to become their perfect little daughter. They told me that I could consider myself disowned from the family if I dare to even write a song.”

“Woah, that sounds really tough.”

“It was,” you nod. “I wasn’t asking them to support me in any other way apart from just being there for me. It’s not like I wanted to spend the money the put aside for my tuition to buy guitars and tour the country, I just wanted them to… accept who I am, but apparently, I asked for too much.”

You feel tears forming in your eyes, but you wipe them quickly. It’s been long since the last time you let the thought of your parents, you’ve been good at keeping these feelings bottled up and in the deepest end of your mind. It’s not like you’re going around and just share your trauma with anyone you meet, but it felt comfortable to share it with Harry.

“I’m sorry about that. Everyone should have a support, especially in our job.”

“I had… myself,” you chuckle bitterly. “Became pretty good at relying only on myself.”

“I’m guessing it’s another reason why you prefer working alone, right?” he smiles at you softly.

“You could say that,” you nod into the water.

“I know it’ll sound cheesy, but… if you ever want to talk, I’m here,” he offers.

“Oh, are we becoming friends?” you ask chuckling.

“We’ve known each other for long enough to be friends, am I right?” he smirks, splashing some water in your way.

“We met a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we know each other. Everything I know about you is from articles and gossip sites and I think you can only say the same thing,” you point out.

“Okay, then let’s get to know each other.”

“What, do you want to play 21 questions now or something?” you huff.

“Damn right,” he smirks.

And that’s exactly what you do. Swimming around in the pool you ask each other questions, some are funny, some are more serious and you slowly start to get to know each other, seven years after meeting for the first time, but in a way it feels like it’s been just last week when you were talking in the alleyway.

The weed soon dies down in your system, leaving you incredibly tired and it’s only then you realize it’s already past one am. Pulling out of the pool, you both grab a towel drying yourselves up before making your way back into the house.

“The guest bedroom next to mine has a bathroom so I think that’s the best one. I can give you something to sleep in if you’d like,” Harry offers as you follow him down the hallway.

“I think I’m fine in my sweats, but thank you.” He shows you the room, tells you how to change the AC if you feel too cold or hot and then bidding goodbye he is about to go to his own room when you stop him.

“Thank you for… today. I know we didn’t get far with the song, but… I liked hanging out with you,” you admit with a shy smile, leaning against the doorframe.

“Don’t worry about the song, it’ll be fine. And I liked it too. We can make it a regular thing, if you want. You can come over, we’d chill and try to cook up something for the song.”

“I, uhh… Yeah, that sounds good,” you nod, he shoots you a smile before turning around and disappearing in his room.

The morning doesn’t turn out at all any awkward, especially because you don’t get to stay around too long. You have a meeting at eleven so you have to leave in time to go home and get changed before that. Harry makes you coffee, which is lifesaving, the two of you sit at the terrace as you drink it and you arrange to meet in two days to try and have another, hopefully more successful session for the song.

You genuinely enjoyed your time with Harry and to think that you didn’t only smoked weed for the first time with him, but also opened up about your parents, you feel a kind of connection forming and you can only hope you’re not gonna regret it later.

You move on with work after leaving from Harry’s that morning, you have some fittings for upcoming photoshoots and an interview scheduled, so there’s not much time for you to sit around. Tonight you’re supposed to meet Harry again at his place for another session and you feel buzzed about it. You meet Taylor for lunch, sitting on the terrace of your usual place she is talking you through everything that’s coming up the next week, just like you always do so then you can put work aside and have a real chat.

“So how did the writing session go?” she asks, digging into her salad that she always asks with extra chicken.

“The writing? Not so well. But we had a good time,” you truthfully admit.

“Good, good! You’re finally making friends!” Taylor grins, satisfied with the news. You just roll your eyes at her, turning back to your food right when you notice that your phone has been blowing up with notifications.

Huffing you grab it from the table with the pure intention of muting it down completely, but then you see that several people have texted you the same link and it bugs your curiosity so you open one of the messages and tap on the link.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan, feeling your rage already pushing up your spine, clouding your vision in red.

“What?” Taylor snaps, reaching for her phone out of reflex.

“That fucking asshole dragged my name again!”

“Who? Jordan? That fucker never learns?” Taylor hisses, her thumbs vigorously typing on the screen immediately.

“Someone asked him about me on Twitter and he dared to call me a lying bitch! I can’t fucking believe this man!”

You and Jordan worked together on a project a while ago. You were supposed to write lyrics to a song he was composing and it was meant for an upcoming popular Netflix show, so the anticipation around the song was huge, especially when word got out that Ariana Grande might end up singing it. During your time working together he very blatantly tried to hit on you, which you politely shut down, because one, you didn’t intend to date someone you were working so close with and two, you just simply weren’t into him. However, he couldn’t take rejection the way a mature, almost thirty years old man should. It started off very subtly, but once you’ve had a chat with him to stop posting obnoxious and suggesting things about you on his social media, because it’s making it hard for you to be taken seriously as an artist and that people will just see you as another celeb which you don’t want to be, he just completely lost his shit. He called you different names on Twitter a few times, the worst were Feminist Nazi and a cock teasing slut, and he just somehow never fails to mention that you lied about your intentions with him, when you were clearer than daylight that you didn’t want a thing from him other than work.

When you realized he isn’t going to be stopping anytime soon, you took him to court, dragged his ass in front of the judge and won the case, which ended with him having to pay you thirty thousand dollars and he was ordered to clear all his platforms from your name for good. You really thought that taught him a lesson, especially because against your will, the case got some publicity and he ended up making headlines about the fault accusations he made about you, but it seems like he didn’t have enough.

You wouldn’t worry that much about his new tweet, knowing that he is the one lying, but the trials took a toll on you. It was at the beginning of the time when you were making yourself a name and even though you won, his accusations stung for some people and some even thought him to be the victim. You fell out of two brand deals and an important interview in the upcoming months which was a major setback and all for what? Because a man couldn’t accept rejection? The sad part is that if it would have happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have had to suffer any effect of it, people don’t tend to question a man’s words when he is showing this charming and nice persona to the public. If you accused him the same way you would have been dragged and titled as a sour crybaby and Jordan’s life would have carried on the same way.

The peaceful lunch soon falls through as Taylor turns on her beast mode to at least get the tweet down as soon as possible, already contacting the legal team you worked with before. It has to be against what you agreed on at the end of the trials, he can’t just go around and drag you again without any consequences.

In just about twenty minutes, the tweets disappear from Jordan’s feed, but you know it was already late the moment he posted it. If something gets out on the internet it never goes away, there are probably hundreds if not thousands of screenshots floating around that will preserve his words forever.

You part ways Taylor as he heads to an immediate meeting with the lawyers you worked together previously, she tells you to try not to worry about it, but you can’t just turn it off in you, that’s not how it works.

Making your way home you keep riling yourself up about it, thinking about what it’s gonna cause you this time, what opportunity is going to be taken because a man has called you a lying bitch, even after winning the previous trial against him that proves how big of an asshole he really is.

Changing into a casual attire you head to Harry’s place a little earlier, hoping it’s not a problem you get there an hour before you were supposed to. Arriving you’re a little taken aback seeing that there is another car parking on the driveway that’s not his and you immediately regret coming here, but before you could leave, the front door opens and Harry walks out. You couldn’t have left without noticing, the security system must have signaled your arrival when you punched the opening code in.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks instead of questioning your early arrival.

“I uhh—I’m sorry for being early, I could go—“

“Don’t be silly, come on in!” he waves at you and you walk up the stairs. “Two friends are here but they were just about to leave soon,” he explains as you walk in.

“Sorry for crashing the party,” you let out a soft chuckle.

“The more the merrier,” he smiles. “You seem a little stressed, everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just… It’s nothing,” you shake your head.

“Oh my God, is that who I think it is?” you hear a woman’s voice from behind and turning around you see a smiley brunette walking towards you, a shy looking guy following behind her.

“Sarah, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sarah, my drummer, and that wanker over there is Mitch, my guitarist.”

“Nice to meet you.” Shaking hands with both of them you realize they look familiar from pictures you’ve seen from Harry’s tour.

“I saw that ugly tweet today, that guy needs to be kicked in the balls,” Sarah sighs with a sympathetic smile, Harry’s ears perking up.

“What tweet?” he asks, eyes switching between you and Sarah.

“Oh, just… Jordan Wells thinks it’s fine to drag people with absolutely no truth behind his words,” you answer with a tight-lipped smile.

“Jordan Wells? The name rings a bell,” Harry hums.

“He is a music producer,” Mitch chimes in.

“I think he was supposed to write for 1D one time, but the deal fell through. Guess we didn’t miss out on anything,” he jokes and it brings a genuine smile to your face.

“You surely didn’t,” you comment under your breath.

You chat with Sarah and Mitch for a bit before they decide to head out, but Sarah asks you to come around sometime they are hanging out and you gladly say yes, wanting to know her and Mitch better, they seem like great company and even greater musicians, it’s always good to meet people who are like you.

As Harry walks his friends out you make yourself comfortable on the couch, reading Taylor’s texts about the update on the recent actions, she has gotten in contact with Jordan’s team and legal steps will be taken if Jordan doesn’t show any sign of improvement in the very near future.

“Hey, want something to drink? Wine or beer maybe?” Harry walks in as you look up from your phone.

“Wine sounds fucking fantastic,” you breathe out earning a soft chuckle from him. You follow him into the kitchen and watch him get a bottle of white wine with two glasses. “I hope Sarah and Mitch didn’t leave early because of me.”

“Oh, not at all. They knew you’d be coming over and would have left around this time, so don’t worry about it.”

He joins you at the kitchen island with the two glasses handing you one and you take a sip from it with a satisfied hum.

“So, want to talk about this Jordan ordeal?”

“There’s not much to talk, really,” you shrug. “He is a jerk and I just can’t seem to get rid of him and I didn’t even date the guy…”

“What did he do this time?”

“Oh, he just casually called me a lying bitch on Twitter, so that’s fun,” you let out a fake laugh, raising your glass before taking a big swig from it.

“Not that creative, if you’re asking me,” he jokes making you laugh. “It’s a very plain choice of words.”

“Yeah, not as good as his best which was calling me a feminist nazi.”

Harry almost chokes on his wine as you say the words, coughing a little while you watch him with an entertained smirk.

“That’s… an interesting way to express his opinion about you,” he answers diplomatically.

“Right? I was thinking about getting a sign of it, like a Live, Love, Laugh one, in the middle of my living room.”

“Would be a wonderful touch of décor,” he smirks. “Alright, I have a proposal for today’s session.”

“Shoot it.”

“You seemed to enjoy your weed experience the last time, I thought we could give it a try again, but we would try to write this time as well.”

“You want to write while smoking?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him.

“Only if you want to. I just thought it would relax you a bit, might even come up with some interesting ideas for the song.”

“Are you trying to turn me into an addict?” you narrow your eyes at him and he just holds his hands up innocently.

“Told you, no pressure,” he smirks angelically.

“I feel like I’m not even coming here to work but to meet with my new dealer,” you chuckle making him laugh. “Okay, we can… give it a try.”

 An hour and one joint per person later the two of you are lounging in his living room, he is sprawled out on the loveseat with a guitar on his arms while you are curled upon the sectional, fumbling with the strings of your hoodie.

“We should just… fucking steal a song,” you snort, finding your comment hilarious.

“Which one were you thinking about?” Harry smirks your way, his fingers gently strumming some random melody on the instrument.

“I really want to have a Madonna song to be mine,” you sigh dreamily.

“You’re a fan?”

“Oh, I grew up on her. I have an elaborate choreography for Hung Up,” you snort.

“You need to perform it for me.”

“No fucking way,” you laugh shaking your head. “Not even weed can make me dance for you.”

“Come on, I need to see that choreography, you can’t just hint it and then never show it to me!”

“Nah, not happening,” you laugh, sliding lower down in your seat, your head resting against the armrest of the couch.

You listen to him play the same melody over and over again with your eyes closed and though you really like what you are hearing, no words are forming in your mind that could serve as lyrics. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you and grabbing it you see a text from Taylor.

Taylor: Lawyers are on the case, we’ll have more tomorrow, don’t stress about it too much. Night! Xx

Sighing you drop the device back next to you, covering your eyes with your arms.

“You alright?” Harry softly asks.

“Nah, I just want to… disappear,” you sigh, tired of this fight you’ve been fighting for way too long.

“Is this about Jordan? He is a fucking ass, most people know it.”

“But not everyone!” you snap throwing your hands up. “And that fraction that still believes that he is saying the truth is enough to ruin my life. I’m fucking fed up with the injustice women have to face because of the patriarchy we are forced to live in!” Pushing yourself up you run a hand through your hair, hugging your knees to your chest. “It’s so fucking upsetting, like everything I do goes straight down the drain because of one little thing and I’m stuck with trying to rebuild my whole future plan.”

From a sudden urge, you move down to the floor, lying down on the fluffy rug that runs under the couches and the glass coffee table. It feels nice, kind of grounding to lie flat on the floor, especially because your senses are all messed up again because of the weed, but in a good kind of way.

“You worry way too much on longterm things. Try to stay in the moment a little more,” Harry tells you, putting the guitar to the side so he can move his feet to the floor, leaning onto his knees. “You can’t control this much what happens in the future, you should only care about today. And today, you’ve done good, you made it through another day, you did what you had to do and that’s it. Stressing about tomorrow or the next week or next year is just way too much to deal with all the time, twenty-four-seven, three-six-five, that’s just no way to live.”

Lying on the floor you stare up at the ceiling seemingly blankly, but your mind starts to swirl over what he just told you. The worlds are running around, mixing and mingling until something starts to form, making you gasp.

“Grab the guitar,” you tell him, sitting up abruptly. He pulls his eyebrows together, but does as you told him to, holding the instrument on his lap as he waits for you to instruct him more. “Play that… that melody you’ve been playing, but a little faster.”

He turns his attention at the guitar, trying the strings out a few times, feeling the melody under his fingers before he starts playing it just how you asked as you slowly start to sing the lines you have just thought about.

“You made it through… another day, you made it through another day… You did it, let’s celebrate…”

The lines fit perfectly with the melody he has come up with and the more you sing, the wider his smile grows as you move along in the forming song.

“Some days you feel you’ll break, but you made it through another day, yeah, you did it, let’s celebrate…”

“Don’t fucking stop!” he chimes in, never stopping the riffs, trying out new things as you go, slowly perfecting it together with the lyrics.

“Twenty-four-seven and three-six-five, you made another day, you made it alive! Made another day made it alive!” You sing loud and clear, completely lost in the melody Harry is playing, the lines just flowing out of you, like a dam has been taken down and now everything washes over you at once.

When the chorus is about to come up however you run out of ideas, your eyes meet Harry’s and he sees that you’re stuck. His eyebrows knit together, tongue runs along his lips before he starts playing the melody of the chorus and takes over the singing as well.

“So today, baby, remember it’s okay! We’re all floating through space, today, baby, remember you’re okay! We’re all floating through space…”

He plays a little with the lines, repeats them, tries a few times before he stops singing, you are now standing up, watching him end the melody, neither of you saying a word as he room grows silent. A sudden urge drives you to go closer and you sit back down to the floor in front of him, your eyes casting over the now silent instrument on his lap. Looking up your eyes meet his and you feel like the air is kicked out of your lungs.

You’ve heard so much about moments when you feel yourself pulling towards someone, when it’s like a magnetic field but you never actually experienced it until now. Staring back at Harry you feel that pull everyone has talked about and you finally understand what they were trying to say. It’s like there’s a string coming from your chest that’s connected to him and he is tugging it without even doing anything.

Reaching forward he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers dancing down the side of your face as you catch his eyes wander down to your lips. Sucking on your breath you feel the moment, you know what he is thinking about because you think about the exact same thing. Kissing him. You are desperate to find out what his lips feel against yours, what he tastes like, what it’s like to have him so close to you.

“You want to kiss me,” you whisper and it’s not a question, more like an observation.

“I do,” he admits with a soft smile, but doesn’t move closer. “Can I?”

“I don’t think it’s an appropriate thing to do in our situation,” you breathe out, though you don’t agree with the statement fully.

“You think too much,” he chuckles softly, leaning closer just a tad bit, but there are still a few inches between the two of you. “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes,” you admit.

“Then we should just do what we want to,” he suggests with a small smirk and he looks ridiculously handsome with his dimples and shining green eyes that are glued to you.

“And then what? We’ll just go on like it never happened or there’s going to be more happening? How are we supposed to—“

You don’t get to finish, because Harry closes the distance between you and him and presses his lips against yours, swallowing the rest of your stammering speech. Whatever doubts and hesitation you felt just a moment ago, it all vanishes into nothing as you melt into his kiss, his lips caressing yours gently, softly capturing them, savoring and tasting you with caution, giving you the chance to pull back anytime, but nothing in your body can make you stop kissing him in this moment.

His palms cup your jaw as you push yourself up, slowly making your way to straddle his lap after he has blindly put the guitar to the side, hands coming to rest on his shoulder for leverage. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you close until your chest is pressed up against his, lips never disconnecting in the kiss.

Kissing him feels like second nature, like it’s not even the first but the hundredth time, but on the other hand, every touch and tiny sparkle is so new and unusual, you’ve never felt like this before.

Harry slowly pulls back, pecking your lips a few more times before he stops, nuzzling his nose against you in an adorable and innocent way that brings a smile to your lips.

“Doesn’t it feel good to just do whatever you feel like doing?” he asks with a soft smile, making you laugh.

“Kind of.”

“Nothing has to change. Or something can, it’s up to you.”

“You are so upsettingly cool and respectful,” you blurt out chuckling and it makes him laugh, his head falling back against the back of the couch.

“I’m sorry, I guess?” he smirks with a shrug.

“See? Respectful!” you grin, your hands moving up to cup his face. The pad of your thumbs gently tap against his dimples that are showing thanks to the wide smile on his lips right now. You can’t stop yourself from leaning down and kissing him again, even though your rational side is trying to make you stop. You just can’t, his lips are screaming to be kissed and who are you to deny that?

You’ve been running errands all day. Following an early meeting you ran to your favorite vintage store to get another armchair for your living room. Then you went grocery shopping because your fridge has been ridiculously empty the past two days and later you had a quick fitting for a few outfits you are supposed to wear in the near future. You’ve ran into a few fans too, having small chit-chats with them, taking photos, so it’s been a busy day.

It’s been a week since you and Harry have kissed and despite your fears, it hasn’t been awkward at all. He didn’t bring it up, but you don’t feel like he is pretending it never happened, which is kind of a great balance. He is giving you just enough time and space to figure out what it really meant to you, because quite frankly, you have no idea.

Obviously, you find him attractive. You’d have to be completely blind to say that he is not handsome and just simply good to look at. You’re attracted to him and not just to his looks, but to his whole persona.

It’s just you’re not sure it’s a smart idea to start anything with the man you’re working with and though you know Harry is nothing like Jordan, part of you is still scared the whole thing will happen all over again if you get involved with another man from the industry.

Workwise, everything is going well. You’ve successfully finished the song you started that ominous evening and have started recording it in Harry’s home studio, working some more on the melody, bringing a lot more into it than just a single guitar. What more, you’ve been coming up with new ideas for other songs, lyrics popping up in either your or Harry’s head and you just keep sharing them with each other, saving them for later once the song for the Grammy’s is done.

Heading back to your place you get a call from Harry, his smiley face appearing on the screen of your face as you accept the call and his accent fills the car through the speakers that are connected to your phone through Bluetooth.

“Hey, hope I’m not calling in the middle of a meeting,” he greets you and you can tell he is smiling.

“No, I’m just on my way home. What’s up?”

“I’m meeting with Sarah and Mitch for dinner tonight, thought you’d like to join us.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time with your friends, I feel like you’ve been spending all your time with me.”

“But I like spending time with you,” he chuckles softly, a blush making its way to your cheeks at his words.

“Are you sure you want me there? What about Sarah and Mitch? I crashed your last meeting with them as well.”

“You didn’t crash anything, Y/N. And I’m positive I want you there, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t. And just so you know, Sarah asked if you’d be joining us, so I assume they wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Oh, well, okay then. Send me the time and place.”

“Wonderful!” he beams, his enthusiasm making your chest warm.

By the time you arrive home he has already texted you the details and you have just one hour to spare before you have to head out. You opt for a quick shower and an outfit change, switching up your ripped mom jeans and simple t-shirt to one of your favorite jumpsuits. It’s a little baggy, but the waist is cinched in with an inbuilt corset, giving the whole fit a very interesting twist.

Arriving at the restaurant Harry has texted you the address of, the waiter escorts you to the terrace at the back that’s a lot more secluded and you feel yourself relaxing that you probably won’t get photographed. Harry is the only one who is already at the table, sitting with his eyes fixed on his phone, but he immediately puts it aside when he sees you approaching, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Hey! You look amazing!” he greets you pulling you into a quick hug.

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. He is wearing a pair of brown slacks, a simple white shirt tucked into it, a knitted cardigan thrown on, a typical Harry outfit. “And thanks for the invite,” you add as you take the seat next to him, assuming Sarah and Mitch would like to sit next to each other.

“Don’t even mention it. We’re friends, it’s really nothing. I’m glad you could make it.”

The way he called you friends is giving you mixed feelings. Part of you is happily jumping up and down at the fact that he considers you as a friend, given how you don’t have many of those. It’s been hard opening up to anyone since you’ve made a name for yourself, you’ve ran into occasions a lot when people wanted more than just your friendship from you and it made you rather closed off when it comes to making friends.

On the other hand, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Is that all you are? Just friends? More importantly, is that all you want to be, or more?

Sarah and Mitch arrive soon after, joining you at the table and the waiter takes the orders before leaving the four of you alone. It seems like they genuinely like it that you’ve joined, so you can enjoy the evening a little more relieved.

Sipping on some amazing wine, you eat and talk and you feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. You especially like Sarah, she is so open-minded and funny and you think they make a great couple with Mitch who is obviously more closed off, but it’s obvious how much he worships his girlfriend.

Sometime in the evening, when you’ve already had two glasses of Chardonnay and you’re feeling a lot more relaxed and comfortable, you move closer to Harry without even noticing, leaning against him gently and his hand rests on your knee, giving it a soft squeeze under the table, making you want to move even closer to him to feel more of his touch, to get more of him.

Neither Sarah, nor Mitch questions the two of you being a little cozier and you’re thankful for the safe and stressfree environment they are providing, not making you overthink what you do, just letting you enjoy the moment.

At the end of the evening, you can’t shake the thought that you don’t want to say goodbye to Harry just yet. He pays for everyone’s dinner, leaving a generous tip for the waiter and you stay back at the table while Sarah runs out to the restroom and Mitch takes a quick call from his father, leaving you alone with Harry. His hand is still resting on your leg, a little farther up, but still in a very safe zone in the middle of your thigh.

Turning to face him your eyes meet his, his green irises glistening in the soft lighting and he looks so beautiful, you just want to kiss him again.

“Do you have plans after this?” you find yourself asking.

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

“That sounds like a nice plan,” he smiles at you warmly and you just know that if you weren’t out in the public, he would have leant in for a kiss and you wouldn’t have stopped him.

When Sarah and Mitch return all four of you head out and they don’t question when you follow Harry to his car. They say goodbye and Sarah makes you promise to join them some other time too and you happily say yes to the invitation.

Not much is being said on the way back to your place, he plays some music quietly as you navigate him through the streets.  

“Welcome to mi casa,” you smile as you key the two of you into your apartment you’ve been living in for the past few years.

It’s nothing luxurious, just a tad bit bigger than what one person would need as a home. You would have been fine living in your previous home you lived in before you’ve gained fame, but you needed a much bigger closet so you were forced to move. It’s a two bedroom apartment with one big bathroom, an open concept kitchen and a spacious living room. And of course, a closet as big as your bedroom. It’s the perfect size and you haven’t even thought about buying a bigger place just because you can, it would be a waste of money and space. The interior is very much vintage with all your mismatched furniture and colorful walls, but you think it’s quite cozy and just the ideal space for you.

“Would you like something to drink?” you ask, walking into the kitchen to get yourself some water.

“Some water would be great, thank you.”

Filling up two glasses you hand him one as you lean against the counter, silently eyeing each other. It should be clear to him that you had intentions with asking him to come over, especially after being your cozy with each other during dinner, but you’re a little lost in what you should or even want to do. You just know you want him close.

He drinks up his water, his eyes meeting your gaze as a small smirk tugs on his cherry lips.

“You want to kiss me,” he states, using the exact same words you used the night when you kissed for the first time.

“I do,” you nod, feeling a little breathless.

“Then do it,” he simply answers, making you smile.

“Cool and respectful, as always,” you grin at him as he moves closer, stopping just a few inches away from you, your feet almost touching. Reaching up his fingers gently caress the side of your face and you feel yourself already melting under his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a shiver running down your spine at his words. You close your eyes for a moment, giving yourself the chance to pull out of it, but you realize you don’t want that, not even the tiniest bit. Opening your eyes they meet with his gaze before you move closer, closing the distance between you and him, lips meeting in a warm and chaste kiss.

Though it grows a little hungrier, you can tell he is still holding back a little, giving you the chance to stop whenever you want to, but you don’t intend to. Pushing yourself closer to him, your arms curl around his neck as his hands grip your waist, your tongue meeting his as you deepen the kiss and melt into his embrace.

Pulling back you grab his hand and head to the bedroom, going back to kissing him the moment you reach it. You easily slide his cardigan off his broad shoulders, pulling his t-shirt out of his pants before taking it completely off, throwing it somewhere to the side. You smirk against his lips, hands wandering down his naked chest and you can’t push down a moan as you feel the warmth of his chest muscles under your touch.

When you feel him try to blindly figure out how to get you out of your jumpsuit with not much luck and this clears your head for a moment to realize what is about to happen. Pulling back your gaze meets his and he stares back at you with caution, ready to stop whenever you tell him to, but that’s not what made you pull back.

“Harry, I…” “We don’t have to do anything,” he softly tells you, his fingers dancing down the side of your face until they reach your chin and he pulls you in for a delicate and slow kiss.

“I want to,” you whisper. “It’s just that… I want you to know that I’ve never… I’ve never been with a man before.”

Searching in his eyes you look for any sign of what’s going on in his head wishing you could just simply read his thoughts.

“You’ve never been with a man?” he asks, seemingly not as surprised as you expected him to be. You nod, licking your lips, waiting for any kind of reaction, a part of you expecting to be upset, though you know he has no right to be mad at you for any of it. “Do you want me to be the first man?” he then asks, with a loving and warm smile as his hand on your hip pulls you against him playfully.

“Yes.”

“Then help me get you out of this jumpsuit, because I can’t figure it out for my life,” he chuckles making you laugh too.

You show him where the corset opens and then get you out of it with joined forces, finally leaving you standing in just your underwear. Harry’s gaze runs down your body, a look of hunger and passion shining through his green irises as he pulls you close again, kissing you with a lot more vigor this time.

Soon enough, his slacks slip to the floor and you climb to your bed, Harry following closely, climbing on top of you before rejoining your lips. Your knees open up wide for him, allowing him to sink his hips between your thighs, his crotch meeting your heated center, a moan slipping out your lips when you feel his erection rubbing against you through the material of your underwear. He kisses his way down your jawline and neck, gently sucking on the soft skin, peppering kisses along your collarbones before he reaches your chest. He easily unclasps your bra and slips the straps down your arms before getting rid of the barrier that’s been keeping him away from your naked chest.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so damn beautiful,” he breathes out shakily, before his lips wrap around your right nipple, his hand cupping your other breast. You keep whining and whimpering as you feel his tongue swirl around your nipple before his mouth moves over to the other breast, giving it just the same amount of attention.

He kisses down your stomach, glancing up at you as he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties silently asking for your permission to go further, still so respectfully looking out for you. As an answer, you lift your hips up so he can easily slide the material down your legs and throw it to the side.

“Oh fuck!” you moan when his tongue and lips press against your bud, playing with it oh so perfectly, making you shudder. If you didn’t think Harry was perfect, his tongue work is now surely making a statement on that.

With every lick, kiss and suck he pushes you closer to your release that’s nearing in a fast pace like never before. Reaching down you lace your fingers through his chocolate curls, tugging on the lightly, making him moan against your core. You’re not sure how long you’ll last, but you want to cum with him inside you, so you pull him up, lips meeting again as you still taste your own juice on him. It’s heavenly.

Without breaking the kiss you reach down and into his underwear, palming his fully hard cock, earning a satisfied growl when you wrap your hand around him. The feeling is quite unknown, you’ve only once had to face a penis before, it happened back in high school when you were still figuring out what sexuality meant to you. Gave a wobbly and quite short handjob to a guy from the grade above you, never even talked to him again. The experience left a major effect on you, never even got close to being intimate with a man, but being with Harry now is putting everything into a whole new light.

“Do you have a condom?” he mumbles against your lips, clearly just as excited to carry on as you are.

“Yeah,” you nod and let go of him, rolling to the edge of the bed so you can dig into the drawer of your nightstand, successfully finding the little silver packet. Tearing it open you hand it over to Harry and get back to your previous position as you watch him kneeling up, rolling the condom on carefully. Your lips part when your eyes fall on his cock, seeing now how big he really is. Harry catches your eyes and leaning down he kisses you softly.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop, okay?” he kindly tells you, but you smile at him coyly.

“You might be the first man I’m with, but your dick won’t be the first thing to be inside me,” you answer with a smug smirk and it brings an amused look to his face.

“You are so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss as he settles himself back between your legs.

Though you really tried to sound confident the other moment, you still feel a little nervous about it and Harry senses it right away. Holding himself up on one arm he cups your face in his other, kissing you slowly, taking his time with his lips, as if he is trying to make you forget about everything else but his lips.

“Are you still sure about this?” he softly asks, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes, but there’s none.

“Yeah, I want this. I want you,” you nod and reaching down between your bodies, you take him in your hands again, positioning him to your center.

Harry captures your lips in another passionate kiss as he pushes into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a little tight around him, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“You alright?” he asks once he is almost fully in.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you breathe out with a small nod. He pecks your lips and slowly pushes all the way in before he starts to move out and then slide in again, picking up a not too fast but still firm pace with his movements.

You gradually get used to the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, it’s surely a whole different experience than using a dildo or any kind of toy you are used to. The thought that it belongs to him is bringing you a sense of intimacy you haven’t felt in a long time.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you dig your fingers into his hot skin that’s coated with a thin layer of sweat as he keeps moving, slowly picking up his pace as you both get closer to the endgame.

“Harry, faster, please!” you plead, legs coming to wrap around his waist so he can thrust in deeper, making you go completely nuts from the way your orgasm is already forming in the pit of your tummy.

He obeys without a second thought, slamming into you faster and harder, making you continuously moan his name, the room is filled with moans and panting, the slapping noise of his hips meeting yours.

Harry buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin, definitely leaving a mark, but you couldn’t care less. You just grab a handful of his hair, shutting your eyes closed as you feel yourself nearing the end.

“Harry, I’m gonna cum,” you pant, barely hanging on.

Instead of stretching it out and trying to play with you, Harry clearly wants you to combust. Reaching down between your bodies his index and middle fingers find your clit and he starts circling on it, adding that little extra you needed to fall over the edge.

Moaning and whimpering under his massive body, your orgasm washes over you in waves, bringing you such an intense satisfaction you’ve never felt before. He keeps up his thrusting and just a few moments later his movements fall out of his rhythm and mumbling your name over and over again, he gasps as he rides his high while you’re still trying to catch your breath following your own.

With a heaving chest Harry rolls off of you, gets rid of the condom and throws it to the small bin you keep next to your night stand and then lies flat beside you as you both just silently stare up at the ceiling, very much in the best kind of after sex haze.

“How are you feeling?” he then asks, rolling to his side, his hand coming to rest on your bare stomach. Turning your head to the side you crack a smile at him.

“I feel like I’ve just been properly fucked,” you bluntly answer, making him laugh wholeheartedly. Rolling to your side his arm falls to your waist as you scoot closer, your face only a few inches from his. He is so pretty up close, his features never fail to amuse you, hard to believe he is a real human, lying right next to you.

He closes his eyes a little, letting his head sink into the pillow as his fingers delicately dance up and down your side and back. You feel like you owe him to say something, dropping a major detail about yourself in a heated moment.

“I had two girlfriends,” you speak up, his eyes fluttering open to your words. “The first one was when I was eighteen, we dated for almost a year, then I briefly dated a guy, but it was barely just a month. And I had my second girlfriend when I was twenty. We were together for two years.”

“Are you still friends with them?”

“I still talk to the second one. Her name is Mila. We broke up because she moved to Spain for a job for a year and we didn’t want to do long-distance. Then we just… grew apart, but we still talk sometimes. She lives in Atlanta now, she has a girlfriend and she told me that she is planning to propose soon.”

A soft smile tugs on your lips as you talk about her. She was an important person in your life in a time that was truly challenging. Mila supported your dreams, she went to a lot of your concerts and she was the first one you called when you got your record deal even though you weren’t together anymore. She has seen you go from performing in dodgy bars to rocking the stage of arenas.

“Congrats to her,” Harry smiles through tired eyes. Reaching up he tucks your hair behind your ear before leaning closer he envelopes your lips in a soft kiss.

“We really shouldn’t have done this,” you hum, though you can’t wipe the satisfied smile off your lips.

“Why not?”

“Because we work together.”

“So what? We aren’t allowed to like each other?” he smirks cockily.

“You like me?”

“Thought I made that pretty clear,” he chuckles rubbing his eyes. “But yeah, I do like you, Y/N. A lot.”

“I… like you too,” you admit shyly. Leaning in he kisses you again before pulling you to his chest as he lies on his back.

“Can I stay the night or you want to throw me out?” he hums closing his eyes. Chuckling your snuggle to him, making yourself comfortable, enjoying the warmth of his body after so spending so many nights alone in this bed.

“You can stay, but you have to behave.”

“Oh I will behave my best, don’t worry.” A chuckle rumbles through his chest as you both fall silent and soon enough, drift off to sleep.

You wake up tangled in the sheets, but no one else is lying in bed with you. Blinking the sleep out of your eyes you look around and though there’s no sign of Harry in the room you spot his clothes on the floor. That’s when you hear the pots and pans clinking somewhere outside and you smile to yourself. You pull a t-shirt on with a pair of clean panties before heading out, finding Harry in your kitchen, wearing your pink fluffy robe and nothing else as he is making what seems to be pancakes.

“I don’t remember hiring a chef,” you joke walking closer, sliding a hand down his back as you lean against the counter next to the stove.

“Good morning,” he smiles. “I really wanted for you to wake up but I was afraid my growling stomach might wake you up,” he chuckles as he flips the pancakes in the pan with the spatula.

“Found everything you needed?” you ask, walking over the fridge to grab the orange juice.

“Yeah, you have a neatly organized kitchen,” he hums. “Sorry for snooping around though.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pouring the juice to two glasses you hand one to him which he thanks softly before placing the golden pancakes to the plate on the counter and pours another bunch into the pan.

Sipping on your juice you watch him move around, making breakfast in your robe and you can’t help but smile at the sight of this fine man in your kitchen. Harry catches you eyeing him and he cocks an eyebrow at you.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks, his voice still a little groggy and husky.

“I just… really want to kiss you,” you shrug placing the glass to the counter.

“I think we are over this whole asking for permission thing,” he smirks, stepping closer he leans down and kisses you gently, tasting like orange juice and something sweet, he has probably ate one of the pancakes. His hand that’s not holding the spatula finds your waist, the t-shirt bunches up on your side as he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss before you hear sizzling coming from the stove.

“Whoops, not trying to burn the place down,” he chuckles as he turns to the pan and flips the pancakes. You wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his jawline before stepping away from him to set the table for breakfast.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” he asks over breakfast.

“I have a meeting with my label on Saturday, but nothing else.”

“I’m having a few friends over Saturday evening, kind of a late Grammy nomination celebration. Want to come over?”

“Yeah, that… sounds good,” you nod smiling.

“I was thinking that maybe you could spend the night and then we can finish recording on Sunday.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

Harry takes a quick shower after breakfast before heading out, promising to call you later and though it still feels a little odd that he says goodbye with a kiss, you very much like this new setup between the two of you.

Friday evening Taylor is over at your place, she loves helping you sort out promo stuff you get sent all the time, especially because you let her take whatever you don’t want, half her closet was meant to be worn by you.

Sitting on the floor with boxes surrounding the both of you, you’re digging through them with a bottle of wine, some 90’s music playing in the background, it’s a nice and relaxing evening.

Your phone lights up with a text on the coffee table and you already know it’s from Harry. You haven’t stopped texting since he left from your place just a few days ago.

Harry: Do you think it’s a look for the Grammy’s?

He attached a photo of himself in all denim, looking very much like 2001 Justin Timberlake at the AMA.

Y/N: Should I match and pull a Britney?

Harry: Is that even a question?!

“Okay, who’s the girl?” Taylor asks, making you tear your eyes away from the phone’s screen.

“Huh?”

“Last time I saw you smiling like this at your phone you were talking to that girl you met at that award show. So who is it this time?”

“It’s… not a girl,” you admit, placing your phone back to the coffee table.

“Oh, did a guy finally manage to sweep you off your feet?” Taylor gives you an amused look, genuinely surprised to hear that this time it’s a guy that has you wrapped around his finger. “What is his name?”

“Harry,” you shortly answer and see her eyes widen.

“Wait, is it… Harry as in Harry Styles?”

“Yeah,” you admit with a soft chuckle.

“Oh my God, I knew I could feel some sexual tension between you two at Jeff’s office!”

“There wasn’t any, what are you talking about?”

“You didn’t see it because you were too busy trying to blow off the duet, but it was radiating from him.” She gives you a look, putting the sweater she’s been examining to the side. “So, how are things? Are you guys an item, or…?”

“We didn’t label anything, he just said he likes me and I like him too. And he… spent the night the other day.”

“Wait, what? Spent the night as in—“

“Yes, we had sex,” you confirm blushing.

“That’s like huge! The first man you’ve been with!”

“I know,” you chuckle.

“How was it?”

“Fucking amazing,” you truthfully admit with a sigh. “I didn’t think it could be this good with a guy. Maybe it’s just because it was with him.”

“He surely looks like a guy that takes good care of his girl. So what’s gonna happen? Are you guys together?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem to care about names and labels, he just likes to do whatever he wants and if I’m being honest it’s kind of refreshing. We are just… enjoying whatever we have.”

“That sounds very liberal,” Taylor chuckles. “But I’m happy for you. You’ve been alone for way too long, I think he might do good to you.”

“I really hope,” you nod with a sigh.

“How is the song writing going?”

“We’re finishing up recording on Sunday. I’ll send it to you when it’s done and we can start all the paperwork and everything.”

“Amazing, you are doing great, Y/N, I’m proud of you,” she smiles and climbing over she wraps you in a tight hug.

“Thanks, Tay,” you smile at her. “Alright, now do you want these lace socks or should I burn them?” you ask holding up a whole pack of them, making her laugh.

Harry said it’s just a chill get together, nothing fancy so you decide to wear a khaki maxi skirt with a shirt tucked into it that was a gift from a fan, your first album’s name embroidered to the front. It’s one of your favorite pieces and you like wearing things your fans make you, gives the whole fit a plus.

Arriving to Harry’s place you spot that there are a few cars already parking on the driveway. You leave your overnight bag in the trunk, grab the bottle of wine you’ve brought and head inside. Unlike every time you’ve been here, the silence is now switched up with soft music and chatters, quite a few people lingering around the house already.

Just as you walk farther inside, Harry appears on the stairs and his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Hey! Did you just arrive?” He jogs down the rest of the stairs and walking up to you he pulls you close for a quick kiss without hesitation.

“Yeah. I know you said not to bring anything, but I hate coming to parties empty handed,” you chuckle softly, holding the wine bottle up.

“Thanks. Have you eaten? Jeff is grilling outside, but help yourself with anything.”

“I’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Sarah and Mitch are already here, but come on, let me introduce you to a few people.”

Harry takes your hand, lacing your fingers together with his. He drops the wine off in the kitchen before joining all the other guests. It’s really not that many people, just about thirty of his close circle. Musicians, people he has worked with and stayed close with, people he has known for long. Everyone seems welcoming and open, many already know who you are and it’s always a good conversation start, so there are not many awkward silences, especially because Harry is always near you, making sure you feel comfortable around his friends and it means a lot to you.

“Hey, everything alright?” Harry asks, when he finds you in the kitchen, refilling your glass. He walks up to you, placing a hand to your waist as he kisses into your hair.

“Yeah, your friends are nice,” you smile at him.

“I know, that’s why they are my friends,” he smirks, so full of himself. “Want to hear something interesting?”

“Always.”

“I was talking to Adam and our song came up and then out of nowhere I referred to you as my girlfriend.”

Seemingly he is testing the waters, trying to see how you react to the title, even a little afraid of what you might say, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Yeah? That’s interesting indeed.”

“Are you okay with it? I wasn’t really thinking about it, just slipped out.”

“It’s fine,” you smile at him softly.

“You don’t have to call me your boyfriend, call me whatever you want. It’s just a habit of mine, I guess,” he explains, popping some nuts into his mouth from the little jar on the counter.

“Alright,” you nod. Harry stares back at you for a moment before a smile stretches across his face and leaning down he kisses you shortly before taking your hand and walking back to the living room with you.

The last guests leave around midnight. After bringing your bag up to his bedroom you start cleaning up while Harry walks out the last couple leaving. You start loading the washer and put away things you’ve cleaned before.

“Oh, thank you for cleaning, but you don’t have to. I can take care of it later.”

“It’s nothing, I want to make myself useful,” you chuckle softly as you start the washer. Harry comes up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses into your neck.

“I have other ideas for that,” he murmurs, his nose nudging the side of your face.

“Yeah? What kind of ideas?” you teasingly ask, closing your eyes when you feel his hand slide under the waist of your skirt, moving down your abdomen until it reaches your core.

“Fun kinds,” he chuckles lowly. His other hand turns your head so his lips could meet yours, you’re still pressed up against him, melting against his chest with your back just right, like you’re two puzzle pieces.

“Fuck,” you breathe out when his fingers wander into your underwear and they start doing their magic. “Harry!” you whine, reacting intensely to his actions.

“I fucking love hearing my name from your pretty mouth,” he growls, kissing you hard before his lips part from yours and he starts bunching up your skirt.

You don’t protest, in fact, you lean forward, grabbing onto the edge of the counter as he pulls down your panties and you hear the zipper of his pants. Glancing over your shoulders you see him pull out a condom from his pocket and you can’t push down a laughter.

“Did you keep that in your pocket all evening?”

“Wanted to be ready when I finally got you all for myself,” he smirks, pulling his cock out of his boxer briefs, rolling on the condom.

His hands come in contact with your hips and ass cheeks, giving them a light squeeze before you feel him lining himself up with you. His palm slides up your back as he pushes into you, both of you moaning at the fulfilling sensation.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good,” he breathes out as he pushes all the way inside before starting to pull out.

“Go hard, Harry. Please!” you whimper as he starts thrusting into you. Harry lets out a growl and slams into you, making you gasp at the harshness of the movement, but that’s exactly what you wanted.

The kitchen is filled with the noises coming from the washer next to you and the slapping noise of Harry’s hips meeting your ass with every forceful thrust he makes. His ring clad fingers dig into your hips, probably already making them red, but you couldn’t care less. You hold onto the edge of the counter, but then you move one hand to cover his on you, needing to touch him in some kind of way.

Leaning forward Harry kisses your back between your shoulder blades through the thin material of your shirt and you moan his name when he hits the perfect spot inside you.

“Shit, Harry! I’m g-gonna cum!” you gasp, perking your ass up more so he can go as deep as possible.

“Let go for me, baby. Come on!”

“I want to cum with you.”

“Yeah? Then hold on for a little longer, I’m almost there.”

You try your best to keep everything inside you under control, your orgasm is really on the edge and you can only hope he is nearing his end too.

“Harry! Please!”

“Fuck, okay, okay, cum for me! Let me feel you!” he moans and his words bring you the release.

You clench around him, moaning and whimpering and it finally pushes you into his bliss too. His thrusts slow down but they are hard and go deep, helping you ride the last bits of your high.

He pulls out and gets rid of the condom before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up from your position so he can kiss your lips.

“How about we take a shower while the washer finishes?” he suggests, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Mm, good idea.”

Once the song is fully finished you submit it to your label after an agreement that it should come out through yours, but it wouldn’t be tied to your or Harry’s upcoming album. Everyone seems to love it, Taylor is over the moon when you show her the final version and Jeff is just as happy about it. Having only three more weeks left until the Grammy’s, you send them your request to perform the duet instead of the medley they asked. Their answer comes the next day and they are more than happy to have you premiere your new duet at the show. Everything seems to be on track.

Following a rehearsal for the Grammy performance, you’re staying over at Harry’s, just eating takeout and having a lazy evening after a whole day of working. You’ve put on a new Netflix movie, but every time you look at Harry you feel like his mind is somewhere far away.

“Want to share what’s on your mind?” you ask softly, not wanting to be pushy, you’re just trying to be there for him.

“I’ve just been thinking.”

“About what?” He looks up at you, clearly hesitant whether he should share it with you or not.

“About what you said about your parents.”

“Oh,” is all you can say. Pausing the movie you turn all your attention to him. “What about it?”

“I was just talking to my mom the other day, she is coming here for the Grammy’s and I thought about how you… won’t have your parents there with you.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Yeah, but then I thought about how you said you haven’t even let them contact you since then and that maybe they’ve changed their mind about the whole situation. You’ve clearly proved them wrong with building yourself a career, maybe they can now see that what they did was wrong.”

You remain silent, chewing on his words. You’ve been great at not thinking about your parents these past years, it feels weird to have a conversation about them out of nowhere. Harry takes your silence as a warning sign, though that’s not the case.

“You know what? I’m sorry for bringing it up. It’s not really my business, I shouldn’t have brought it up, sorry,” he shakes his head.

“What… would you do if you were in my place?”

Harry looks at you, surprised you are willing to continue the conversation. His hand finds your thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it might worth a shot to just… contact them. See if they want to maybe get in touch again.”

“And what if they don’t?”

“Then… you know you made the right decision leaving. I know it’s scary, but I think you should take a chance.”

“I’ll… think about it,” you nod shortly.

“Take your time, do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you get comfortable in his embrace before starting the movie again.

Two weeks before the show you are headed to a fitting with Harry, your matching sets are nearly done, but they needed you to try them on and make sure they fit just perfectly. True to your and Harry’s extravagant fashion, this performance won’t lack any over the top fits either. It was clear from the beginning that you would be matching, but you made it clear that you want to bring it to the level where you’d be wearing the exact same outfit, so now there are two sets of suits in the making, the pattern of the whole two piece is recalling a kind of space vibe, blues, purples and black meeting in the colors with hundreds of embroidered stars and planets littering the fabric with additional crystal stars to make it even more extra. It’s truly one of a kind, especially paired with the sheer, tulle shirt you both will be wearing underneath.

“We look fucking great, babe,” Harry smirks as the two of you stand next to each other, examining yourself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the small podium.

“We really do,” you smirk, satisfied with how the performance is coming together. It’s gonna be the perfect way to celebrate both your first Grammy nominations, a huge milestone in your and Harry’s career as well.

Grabbing his phone he quickly takes a picture in the mirror of the two of you, pulling you to his side as you smile into the camera through the mirror. Then you leave him alone on the podium as they are pinning his pants to make it the perfect size. Stepping to your bag you fish your phone out and reading just the first few words of Taylor’s last message she sent about ten minutes ago, you feel all blood rushing out of your face. Tapping on the notification you start reading.

Taylor: Please don’t lose your head, but we are dealing with this.

She attached several articles and you start digging through them.

“Is Harry Styles dating his new duet partner?”

“Harry Styles cozied up with Y/N Y/L/N at dinner with friends.”

“Can we expect some hot make out sessions at the Grammy’s from Harry and his new beau?”

And then there’s the absolute worst.

“Is Y/N Y/L/N going to take Harry Styles to court too?”

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble under your breath, vigorously typing back to Taylor to take them down. Two pictures have been leaked from the time you had dinner with Sarah and Mitch, it’s so odd because it’s been weeks since then, where were these pictures all along? Not that it matters, all you want is for them to be gone.

Against your better judgment, you go online and check your social media even though you know you shouldn’t snoop around now that it’s out there. No surprise, you and Harry are trending, but the reactions are very much mixed.

The impact of your case with Jordan is still major. It doesn’t matter that you won, people are still questioning whether he said the truth or not and now they are afraid you might drag Harry down just like you did with Jordan. That you are just trying to use his fame to get more attention and then ruin his career, making a victim out of yourself again, because apparently that’s what you’ve been doing.

You’re not only being dragged, but all of a sudden, nothing is about the music and the art you are making, people just want to know if you’re fucking Harry Styles or not. A lot of the times you’re not even named, only referred to Harry’s new lover or what’s worse, his hookup. You’ve lost all the credit you worked so hard for and for what? Because you dared to have dinner with a man?

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Harry asks walking up to you. Your eyes snap up at him and he immediately sees the shock and anger in them, setting panic in him as well. “What is it?”

“The fucking… pictures,” you hiss handing him your phone so he can see the articles for himself. He scrolls through them with furrowed eyebrows, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip before handing the phone back once he has gotten to the end of it.

“Let’s finish this up and head home, okay? We’ll figure it all out.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you nod, trying your best to keep your anger at bay while the designers finish up on the outfits.

An hour later you walk into your place, talking on the phone with Taylor, discussing the situation though there’s not much you can do at this point. It’s all out, the pictures can’t be taken down. She suggests to just keep quiet for now, she’ll call Jeff to see what could be done as damage control.

Throwing your phone to the bed you feel your whole body shaking from the anger, it’s agonizing to know there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. We’ll figure it out,” Harry speaks up, trying his best to calm you down, but it’s not really working this time.

“Stop saying it, you don’t know that for sure. I can’t believe this bullshit is happening all over again,” you breathe out shaking your head.

“Again?”

“Yes! I’m being fucking dragged for something I shouldn’t be.”

“People will always have controversial opinion on everything, you can’t get them all to like you.”

“It’s not about liking, Harry!” you snap. “I couldn’t give a damn about people liking me, but they discredit my work. Have you read those articles? I’m seen with a man and suddenly, I’m not even seen as an artist anymore. I’m not even my own person in some of them, just a girl who is linked to you. How is that fair?” “It’s not, but stressing yourself about it until you’re sick is not gonna help anything,” he retorts in a firm voice.

“So I should just sit around and so nothing while watching all my work go to shit?”

“Nothing is going to shit! This is how it goes, there’s always something people talk about but they will forget about it in a week. That doesn’t take anything away from what you’ve proved through your career.”

“Now that’s a lie. Because if they did forget about things in a week, they wouldn’t be bringing up the whole Jordan thing now. I dared to stand up for myself against a man and look where it took me to! I’m the drama queen, the lying bitch who likes to ruin men for apparently no reason and they see me as a threat when it comes to you too. People are talking about how I’ll take you to court as well, they think I’m just using you even though they know nothing about me! And the worst part is that it wouldn’t be like this if I weren’t a woman. Whatever happens, however we react to the situation, it will never have the same effect on your career than it will have on mine.”

“So what, you’ll just live your life without ever doing anything that’s gonna upset people? There will always be someone who’ll judge whatever you do, you can’t do anything about that and if you let them get to you now, they’ll know they can mess with you easily.”

“So I’m just supposed to ignore everything? And not do a single thing about it? It’s easy for you, you’ll walk away from this without a scratch on your name, because you are a white man who can do no wrong in the eyes of the world.”

“Okay, now you are being mean for no reason.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you retort. “And you know what else is part of the truth? That I’m not even having it the worse. There are women who are even more targeted because of their religion, their skin color, their nationality or sexuality and people don’t even realize how hard it is for any of us. I’m sick of the injustice we have to live with just because of our gender!”

“I do acknowledge the problem on hand, I’m aware of it and I’m all for doing against it, but we are not gonna solve it instantly, it’s a long process. Sometimes we just have to pull back a little, be smart about things.”

“They will never stop about this,” you shake your head, stubbornly clinging onto your opinion. “I won’t be seen as a serious artist anymore, just some girl who was linked to you. It’s fucking done, over.”

“Y/N, what are you trying to say?” Harry asks with caution.

“Exactly what you are thinking about,” you reply with a bitter laugh. “I can’t be a respected artist if I’m with you.”

“That’s not true. It will die down, they will see that you are more than just who you’re dating and everything will be fine.”

“What’s not fair is that I have to work for it to be fine while you are still the same artist you were before it all blew up. Don’t you think it’s unfair?” you call him out and part of you knows you’re being mean and unnecessarily rude to him, but you just can’t control it any longer. You need to let it out and unfortunately, he is the one who is here to take the blame.

“It is, but what are you expecting me to do about it? Release a statement asking people to only talk about my dating life to make it equal? What can be done is that we try to fight this together, show them that you’re more than just a woman who is linked to a man in any kind of way.”

“Yeah, like realization is just gonna hit them,” you snap. “I’m at a turning point in my career, Harry. Whether I win a Grammy or not, this time is going to have an impact on my future. If I’m seen as just a girl linked to you, I’ll never make it. I’ll be forgotten and dragged again and I can kiss my career goodbye.”

You know you were way too harsh, but it’s what you think to be the truth. You didn’t fight your way to this point in life just to be seen as a man’s girlfriend rather than the artist you truly are. And right now, you can’t see yourself get out of this situation without letting go of Harry.

“Y/N, please don’t let this ruin what we have. We can get through this, you can’t let them control your life this much. Who are they to tell you what to do? That’s not the Y/N I know, come on!”

He tries to step closer, reaching out for you, but you take a step back, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you.

“I would prefer to be alone now,” you sternly say, folding your arms on your chest, closing yourself off from him as you don’t even look at him, because if you did, you know you would break.

“Y/N, please don’t do this, we—“

“Alone!” you snap, cutting him off.

He stares at you, hoping you might change your mind, but you’re quite set on this. He knows you well enough to know you won’t budge anytime soon. He lets out a shaky breath and slowly turning around, he heads towards the door as you’re already fighting your tears back. He stops right before he is about to walk out.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he quietly says before walking out, the door shutting closed behind him.

The sobs start immediately and you fall to the ground, tears soaking your cheeks, already missing him more than anything in your life. You really thought it would be different this time, that things might get better, but you were naïve.

The next two days go by in a blur. The whole fucking internet is filled with those damn pictures of you and Harry, nothing has been about any of your Grammy nominations or even about your music, you’ve officially became the woman Harry Styles is dating.

Harry was titled as a Grammy nominee in every goddamn writing that surfaced, he was completely credited for his work while you could be happy if your name was written correctly. With every new article, your faith in having the career you worked so hard for lessened until you felt hopeless. You’ve officially became a dumb celebrity, just a woman who was known to be dating a man in the industry.

On the evening of the second day you have enough. You just read yet another degrading piece of you that was clearly written by a man, they once again talked about your case with Jordan, joking about history repeating itself and you swear you could scream and throw a tantrum like a baby at how useless and helpless you feel.

You put your laptop to the side and reach for your phone, dialing Taylor’s number.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she asks right away, knowing well how hard these past days have been. She came over the evening you sent Harry away and tried to comfort you, but nothing could help you that night.

“Hey, I want to ask you to do something and not try to talk me out of it.”

“Oh God…” she sighs, already knowing you’re about to do something stupid according to her.

“I don’t want to perform at the Grammy’s.”

“What? With all due respect, are you fucking stupid?”

“I’m not stupid. But I don’t want to do it.”

“Well, this has got to be the most ridiculous move you’ve ever tried to pull. Why do you want to throw such a huge thing away?”

“I can’t… sing that song with Harry. If I stand on the stage and sing with him… I just can’t do it, Tay.”

“Of course you can! Suck it up! I know you miss him and it fucking sucks what’s happening, but you have to do it!” she tries to convince you, but you’ve already made your mind up.

“No. I’m not doing it. Please let them know that it’s going to be just Harry performing.”

And with that, you end the call.

Taylor knows better than to try to fight you, she doesn’t call back though you know she wants to murder you right now probably, but she’ll come around, she always does. You make yourself a tea hoping to relax your nerves with it though you know nothing can help you now. You wish you had someone to rely on, someone you could talk to right now, but usually Taylor is that person to you and lately Harry has been your support, but you can’t call either of them. The rest of the people you consider friends… they are just not that close to you. You’re left alone, again.

As your gaze wanders over to your phone, a thought pops up in your mind that makes your hands sweat. You think back to the conversation you had with Harry about your parents and you can’t shake the urge off to finally make that call.

“Fuck it,” you breathe out and grab the device, opening up the contacts until you find what you’ve been looking for. Your thumb hovers above the call button for a while before you finally tap on it and start the call. It rings four times before a voice speaks up on the other end.

“Halo?”

“Hi mom,” you reply and hear a gasp from her at your voice.

There’s less than a week left until the Grammy’s. For your own sake, you haven’t been online outside of answering work emails, you just can’t deal with the shit show your life has become on the internet.

You haven’t left your home unless you really needed to go somewhere, did most of your meetings over the phone or videochat and postponed a fitting as well. You’ve officially caved yourself up in your apartment and you are not planning on leaving anytime soon.

Taylor keys herself in, she hasn’t even mentioned that she might drop by, but you’re not surprised. She is probably here to try to bring you out of this pity party you’ve been holding for days. When she sees you lying on the couch in sweats and messy, unwashed hair, she sighs, shaking her head.

“You really need to pull your shit together, Y/N.”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

“No, you’re not. This is not the bad bitch I know.”

“Bad bitches have bad days too.”

“This is not a bad day, you look like a fucking zombie. This is not what a Grammy nominee should look like days before the big show.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m performing or anything,” you shrug, but the look in Taylor’s eyes make yours go wide. “Taylor, I’m not performing, you informed them about it, right?”

“This is why I’m here,” she sighs walking closer, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I never cancelled on your performance.”

“I told you I’m not doing it!” “I know, but I was hoping you might come around. But you seem to be still acting like a stupid bitch, so that didn’t happen. However, I’ve gotten an interesting email today.”

She pulls out her phone and opens the email before handing it over to you. Shooting her an unhappy look you start reading.

-

Hi Taylor!

I got your email address from Jeff, wanted to write to you myself. I’ve officially pulled out of the Grammy performance so it’s going to be only Y/N in it. We are also working on a statement to release over the whole ordeal and my lawyers have been after the bigger gossip sites to get the articles down. I want Y/N to have the Grammy experience she deserves and I know it can’t happen with me in the performance. Tell her that I’m sorry for ruining it for her, she deserves so much more. I’m sorry she was brought into this.

I hope to see you soon, take care!

Harry

-

With parted lips, you look up at Taylor who is smiling softly at you.

“He… pulled out for me.”

“He did. Talked to Jeff on the phone, they have already let them know Harry wouldn’t be performing, they will make it official tomorrow.”

“But he deserves this just as much as I do. He is a nominee too.”

“Well, seems like he values you more than his own success.” Taylor lets out a long sigh and scooting closer she places a hand to your knee. “Look, I know you’re upset about how the media treats you just because you were seen out with Harry, and I know that you’re afraid of getting labeled as just the girl he dates and not get taken seriously as an artist, but you can’t let them stop you from living your life how you want to. There will always be judgment, there will always be men who are worse than trash and want to bring you down, but you are stronger than that. Pushing Harry away and being alone for the rest of your life is not a solution. What you can do to put them to their place is give them a big fuck you, date the hottest man in the industry and continue being the bad bitch that you are, fighting against the way you are being treated. Speak up, show them who they are dealing with, share your truth, like you always do! But you can do all of this with Harry by your side. You deserve to be happy and he makes you happy, don’t make yourself miserable because we live in a world where men are still placed above women. Fight for the change but don’t forget to think about yourself as well in the process.”

You feel the tears sting in your eyes. The weight of this past week is just way too heavy to carry, but Taylor is right and you are realizing that you’ve made it harder for yourself. The sobs come before you could stop yourself and Taylor pulls you into a hug.

“I know, I know. It fucking sucks, but you can’t let them win,” she soothes, running her hands up and down your back. “Show them how big of a bad bitch you are and get the man too.”

“You think Harry still wants to be with me?”

“I think that man would be on his knees for you in a heartbeat if you asked,” she chuckles pulling back. “Statement about the performance will be released tomorrow. That’s how long you have to figure it out,” she tells you with a knowing look before leaving you alone with your thoughts, however you don’t have to think long what you have to do.

You have not been the only one these past days took a toll on. The fight the two of you had left Harry completely drained, angry and helpless. He hated that he was the reason you weren’t credited as the talented artist that you are and he couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make it better. That’s when he came up with the idea of pulling out of the performance.

Now he is ready to spend the remaining days until the award show hidden from the world, not even leaving the house. Everyone close to him knows he is better not to be disturbed now, so he is quite surprised when the security system lets him know that someone has arrived.

As you drive up to his house you spot him immediately, stepping out the front door with a shocked look on his face, probably expecting you to be the last person to be there at the moment. You wipe your sweaty palms against your thighs as you walk up to him, feeling anxious to see him and talk to him, especially after the last conversation you had.

“Hey, I’m sorry for coming here without calling or anything…” you shyly start, stopping in front of you.

“Don’t be silly. Come… Come on in,” he clears his throat inviting you inside.

You’ve walked through this front door so many times in the past almost two months, but this is the first time you feel so odd, standing out, like you have no place in here and it’s all thanks to yourself.

“Do you want something to drink? Are you hungry?” Harry walks past you but then turns to face you, talking to you with such warmth and kindness, even after how you acted, putting blame on him for something he has no control over. It completely breaks you and can’t stop your eyes from watering as you look at him. You really hoped you’ve run out of tears in the past days, but it seems like that’s not the case at all.

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” you breathe out shakily and you step closer to each other at the same time, he envelopes you in his strong arms and you fist his shirt at his chest. “I know it was none of your fault, I just got so desperate and afraid that it might ruin what I worked so hard for.”

“I know. And you were right about everything. Everything you said was true and I’m sorry you have to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t right to be mad at you just because you have different privileges, it’s not like you can change who you are. So I’m really sorry about that, and also for pushing you away when you were just trying to be there for me. I was so stupid,” you breathe out, wiping the tears sliding your cheeks down away.

“You just panicked, it’s okay. Don’t apologize for wanting to protect yourself.”

Resting your forehead against his shoulder you wait for your sobs to die down before you look back up at him. Reaching up he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, smiling down at you warmly and that smile alone ensures you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, with the right person.

“Taylor showed me the email you sent her,” you bring it up, clearing your throat.

“You deserve it all to yourself so people can see how amazing of an artist you are.”

“I’m not doing it without you,” you shake your head stubbornly. “We wrote the song together and we’re gonna perform it together or else I’m not doing it either.”

“Y/N, you know if we step on that stage together they are gonna twist the whole thing and make it about something else. I want you to have this opportunity for your career without me ruining it with just my presence.”

“Fuck them, if they take it as something it’s not. They are not gonna take the chance away from us to perform our song. If they are such fucking dumbasses that they make it all about what’s between us, that’s their own personal problem. If I need to, I’ll go on a Twitter rant and tell them this myself. I want you on stage with me or else I’m not doing it either.”

Harry breathes out through his nose, pressing his lips together as he stares back at you, probably realizing you are dead serious about pulling out of the performance and he is right. He doesn’t even know you were the first one to cancel on it, you’d do it again without hesitation.

“I guess we are performing then,” he cracks a small smile and throwing your arms around his neck you pull him down, lips smashing against his, the kiss mingling with giggles and smiles.

Harry wraps his arms tight around your waist, pulling you up from the ground as he spins you around, making you squeal as you hold onto him.

“I have to call Jeff to call the Grammy’s not to post the statement,” he hums against your lips and he pecks them a few more times before letting go of you to quickly make a call to his manager.

You move over to the couch in his living room as he talks to Jeff, who is luckily very understanding about the sudden change. Hugging your knees to your chest you watch him pace the floor, exchanging a few more words with the man on the phone before ending the call, his gaze dropping to you again. Sitting beside you, he kisses your temple, dropping an arm around your shoulders as you lean against him, head resting on his chest.

“I called my mom,” you drop the bomb suddenly and you can feel him tense up for a moment, probably shocked by your words.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Lifting your head your gaze meets his as you carry on. “She was… very shocked to hear my voice.”

“I bet,” he hums. “What did you talk about?”

“I just… asked how they are doing and told her that I’ve been thinking a lot about them. She sounded genuinely touched by it and said I’m always welcomed for dinner or lunch if I’d like to see them.”

“That’s amazing! See, I told you they would love to hear from you!”

“Yeah,” you smile at him softly. “I think I want to go over sometime after the Grammy’s.”

“I’m sure it’s going to go well.”

“Would you please come with me?”

Your question catches him off-guard he seems surprised that you would want him there, but then his expression softens as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“I would love to, if you want me there.”

“I do,” you nod.

“Then it’s settled,” he smiles warmly as you lay your head back to his chest, his fingers gently dancing up and down your arm and for once in your life you finally feel settled, like everything is going to be fine.

Highlights of the 63rd Annual Grammy Awards: Y/N Y/L/N blows up stage with new hit duet

The killer duo surprised us all with a brand new duet titled Floating Through Space, performed it together on their big night. Wearing matching galaxy themed suits, Y/L/N and Styles have closed off the evening with probably the most success, the latter winning two out of his three nominations, receiving the award for Best Music Video and Best Pop Vocal Album with his latest album, Fine Line, while Y/L/N was titled best new artist, becoming a Grammy winner early in her career.

Tabloids blew up earlier this month when the two singers were photographed cozied up at dinner with friends, speculations started about their possible romance, but Y/L/N has made a clear statement on the question with her red carpet appearance before the award show. Wearing a head to toe black Gucci gown paired with a dramatic cape, the message “I’M AN ARTIST, ASK ME ABOUT MY ART” painted onto it in red, making a bold statement about her opinion on the way the media has been treating the star.

Both singers remained silent on their alleged romance, but proved to be the best of their time with their joined performance with their new emotional duet. Following the song’s debut on stage it was released to the public as a single right away, taking over all charts with its overwhelming success.

Listen to Floating Through Space now on Spotify and Apple Music!

Your knuckles are turning white from the tight grip on the steering wheel as you stare up at the home you grew up in. It looks almost the same, sometime through the years you haven’t been around your parents have painted it a light blue color from the paste yellow, but it’s still… the same.

“Hey.”

Turning to your right you look at Harry who is smiling at you warmly as his hand reaches over and squeezes your knee gently.

“It’s going to be fine. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you, you’re still their daughter.”

“That’s not what they told me the last time I was here,” you whisper, feeling your throat closing up.

“We all say things in the heat of the moment. Seeing how happy they were about this lunch proves that they regret what happened.”

Nodding you take a deep breath to get ready for whatever is going to happen. Leaning over the console you pull Harry in for a kiss and it calms your nerves a little. Getting out of the car he takes your hand and squeezes it to let you know he’ll be right by your side all along. As you walk up to the front porch a sense of strong nostalgia washes over you.

You didn’t have a bad childhood, your parents provided you so much growing up, it’s sad to think what it has become. In a way you feel more anxious than walking the red carpet a week ago for the Grammys even though you’re just meeting your parents, but this is a turning point in your life that needed to come sooner or later.

“I’m right here, baby. It’s going to be fine,” Harry murmurs, kissing your forehead before you ring the doorbell, feeling weird that you come here as a guest, not as someone who belongs here.

You hear footsteps approaching on the other side, two frames appear through the clouded glass of the front door and then it flies open, pushing all air out of your lungs, clinging tightly onto Harry’s hand. There’s a moment of silence and just staring at each other before the tiniest smile tugs on your lips.

“Hi mom, hi dad.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[baka-writings]

𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

Warnings: A tiny (Subin) bit of nsfw

YAY MY 1ST VICTON REQUEST

Also I went kinda overboard with Hanse, cuz I'm a biased bitch 😅

𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐨

the sweetest bf ever, no kidding

honestly he'd do anything for you, anytime

like you wanna go on a date at midnight? you got it

he'd take care of you

lowkey forcing you eat your meals

and of course checking out if you eat your meals properly

he'd be the gentleman he is almost always whether he's tired or not

very affectionate

pda in front of other members? oh yEs

gives you random kisses 24/7

he'd be really quick to notice if there's something bothering you

he'd ask you about it and try his best to solve your problem

would listen to everything you're saying, nodding here and there

he's very serious when needed so if you were telling him something really serious/bad he'd be in the top 3 of the most understanding members in Victon

but he'd be also annoying like

challenging you in everything

he'd let you win tho, ngl

unless it was in bed😌

he's a strong man and fairly tall so no escaping

but even then he'd be such a gentleman

at first

later he wouldn't be that gentleman sorry not sorry

(later in the relationship/when you already did the deed etc)

he's a dom obviously

and very vocal if you ask me

i feel like he'd lOve to use his tongue anYwhere on you

would be rough most of the time but at the same time be careful not to hurt you

he'd love to pull your hair

and you better pull his too

also kinda kinky imo

he can go from 0 to 100 real quick, in bed as well

so you better watch out 😌

𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐤

the sweetest bf ever no 2

he'd sing for you anytime you wanted

he'd be so happy if you compliment his singing

cooks for you

wouldn't let you cook so you'd have to plead him

he'd like nicknames you'd give him unless they are dumb 😂

my personal favorite for him is angel, cuz he sings like one and looks like one

he'd same as Seungwoo take care of you

like a true mom

eye smiles 24/7

unlike Seungwoo, he wouldn't show that much pda in front of the members cuz they'd tease him for that too

but would always stay close to you whenever you all hangout

he'd sing you before sleep and would get flustered if you actually didn't fall asleep and only listened to his singing

he'd like to have you close to him

especially when you sleep

WHICH REMINDS ME

😈

he's not as kinky as Seungwoo

but i think his biggest turn on would be your face while he's slamming himself inside of you

i can also lowkey see him liking to be slightly choked, but not too much

which reminds me

switch

i don't see him that vocal honestly

but would like you being vocal

yes he likes to keep you close during these times too sO he'd probably go too deep just to be close don't @ me

when you are done i see him switching to his momma self again and clean ya'll up

unless you want another round 😌

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧

aka my side hoe

clown 1/3

he'd talk the shit outta you

annoying

but cute

too much pda in front of others

unless someone teases him about it

then he'd add even more

pda with some inappropriate touches, always a yes for him

he wouldn't even try to hide it tbh

pls touch his dimples

he'd crack jokes whenever you're sad, mad, stressed etc

so honestly there would be NO time for such negative emotions ✨

but he'd also tease you sometimes so you better prepare some comebacks

when you two are already dating he might get a bit possessive i feel like

but not the jealous possessive

more like he'd be lowkey worried you'd leave him or something

mention his brother and he'll gladly introduce you, but would be protective af

talking about his bro, if you want to tease him or want him to make love to you, just say his bro was your bias in madtown and he'll show you why he should be the only one you look at ;)

but he wouldn't really show it unless needed

great kisser

like have you seen those lips?

delicious

cuddles every day, anytime and anywhere

he looks cute and innocent, but we know he ain't

call him byunchan (pervert + Chan in korean)

we all know what I'm talking about 😉

you should probably watch what you're saying cuz he will make double meanings and pervert things from anything

unless you want that

in that case get ready for some fun

kinda kinky tbh

a switch

those hips 🥵

he'd be slightly on the rougher side tbh

if his hips do the same thing as when he's dancing then well rip you

bitting kink

would maybe like to choke you while he overstimulates you 💀

𝐒𝐞𝐣𝐮𝐧

clown 2/3

another annoying one

would talk the shit out of you as well

every date is eating somewhere

him eating your food

eating competitions between you two

PDA!! Like he'd even show you off

compliments won't work on him cuz he knows he's all that

you'd like to scare him sometimes even with the help of his members

he'd cry

he'd let you borrow his hoodies

"it looks better on me tho"

he'd be happy if you jammed to his songs and sang his parts

wouldn't let you touch his dimples or kiss them for fREE

which means he has to have something in it to let you touch 'em

probably a kiss or something

such a tease

and a brat

he's a switch, nothing else

praising kink (recieving)

he'd be very confident in himself during these times too

would like his hair to be pulled

i can also see him liking mirror sex??

i mean seeing him fucking you from behind in the mirror sounds kinda hot if you ask me 🥵

also he is kinky too, but keeps his kinks a bit lowkey.. at first

would high-key love being tamed like a brat he is

oh and also i see him being vOcal, same like Seungwoo

not that rough, but deep thrusts making you lose it pretty soon ;) aka ego boost

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐞

my main hOe

clown 3/3

loud af

pda in front of members

always

but for him I feel like it'd also be some kind of flirting and inappropriate touches so someone, probably Sejun would "get a room" y'all

tattoos, pls touch them

or lick them-

honestly, biased or not he'd be one of the best bfs from this group

he seems like he could kill a bitch, but we know he's a soft boy

sometimes

he'd be all giggly around you during your 1st days/weeks of dating

but then..ooof

a real clownery tbh

he'd like to be taken care of, like cooking for him, checking up on him and so on

that would make him so so so happy and happy Hanse is what we want

always.

he'd love you two have matching accessories like earrings or chokers! (so he could choke you later)

everytime he smiles, you smile and then he smiles when you smile and-

okay but then he'd also be a pervert and sometimes you'd have to go 'eH?' when he talks shit to check if you heard correctly or not

you'll always hear correctly

ya'll would paint each other's nails

everytime he makes a new song, he'd ask you what do you think because your opinion is important to him

he'd be a lil happy puppy when you compliment his songs (either solos or group songs since he co-writes the lyrics)

I'd like to think he wouldn't wake you up anNoYinGly as he did to Seungsik, but- uhh he would

you might challenge him in freestyle, he'd let you win and compliment your skills even If you were nOt as good as him (i mean is that possible?)

but also would be highkey shook If you did very good, he'd even forget his lyrics so you'd win

then he'd whine

anyway...a switch (dom lean)

his usual flirty line or when he's in the mood would be "mind tasting my piercing?"

and If you're in the mood just say "Sure If I can Do you as well"

honestly use the "Do Hanse" joke anytime and he's yours, truly..

i feel like he'd say something like "I'll Do you now" while he enters you and fucks you senseless (like he will dO you while hAnse is in you-)

vocal in bed, but mostly like high grunts

chOking both recieving and giving as well as bitting and all of these kinks

also..his tongue..with a rap like that I can't imagine how good he'd be eating you out ;)

rough thrusts all the way

keeps going when he hears your moans

𝐁𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧

big baby

back hugs or any kind of hugs

lowkey a brat too tbh

dimples show off™

he'd be actually vEry happy if you touched his dimples lmao

that would make him kInda cocky

would sing for you randomly and also teach you some dances

he'd actually enjoy dancing and/or singing together

a great cuddle buddy tbh

he'd be very clingy

to impress you he'd act manly and just hOt (see gif)

but would sometimes fail, because you'd start laughing 💀

borrowing his hoodies and shirts

but never giving them back-

if you're a lot shorter than him, he'd for example help you reach high places

if you're not that short well

he'd put things even higher so you'd ask for his help

kinda petty imo

anYway not really kinky, but on the more vocal side in bed

don't @ me but a sub

i think his most visible kink would be you doming him 💀 honestly

also some dirty talk (recieving) while you bounce on him

i can also see him mAybe being into some ice play tbh

just think about it😈

he's not rough, not vanilla either...perfect middle path

𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐧

a baby™

cuddles! always, whether you like it or not

i think he'd be teased by his hyungs

and told to use a protection

he'd just nervously laugh like ugH yeah sure

he'd be jelly if his pets greeted you before him or payed more attention to you

he'd pout

he can be very shy sometimes, so it'd take him ages to ask you out

he'd probably be accompanied by Seungwoo if you guys met 💀

if you by any chance go drinking, you should probably stop him tbh

he'd also pout if you called him cute

"I'm not cute *pout*"

which is cute

he maybe wouldn't necessarily sing for you as he'd be shy and not very confident

but would LOVE if you sang for him, it would make him fall in love with you more... especially if it was either his song or a song he loves

he'd never interrupt you, just listen to your voice

he'd love if he brought food to him when he practices (other members would be jelly and steal his food so you better bring them too then)

sometimes he'd tell you some weird/dirty jokes without thinking about them first

his excuse would be "Hanse said-"

now all jokes aside, he is a babie but when you two are alone he'd have those dirty times

however he'd be shy to ask for what he wants, like he'd never or rarely ask for it

but you'd see it on him anyway

like he'd be unfocused and talk less

a sub(in)

you could have so much fun with him honestly 😈

tsundere (Seungwoo said it, not me🤷🏻‍♀️)

his hidden kinky

would love bitting, both recieving and giving

for some reason i also see him liking having a collar with a chain so you can pull him whenever and wherever you like?😌

he would be vanilla of course but not that rough either, however his secret dream is to go rough tbh

also he is young so he might want to try many kinks as long as both of you want that

[forasecondtherewedwon]

The Stripping Point

Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: E (explicit sexual content) Word count: 6387

Happy Birthday, @spiderman-homecomeme​!

Summary: Peter's ready to turn his new hobby into a profitable sideline. Unfortunately, he writes down his very first client's address incorrectly and shows up at the wrong house.

MJ opens the door to find some guy dressed as Spider-Man and decides the best way to mess with him is to let him stay. Almost immediately, she loses the upper hand.

Quarantine puts people out of work. A lotta people at first, then less, but never Peter. He keeps shooting for the Bugle, lugging his camera all over the city (instead of squeezing onto buses and subway cars that never really get that much less crowded) while he breathes heavily through his mask. He only takes pictures at outdoor spaces to try to avoid both crowds and loners who hassle him for taking preventative measures during the pandemic. They’re stressed, he gets that, but Peter doesn’t wanna be anywhere near conflict. Spider-Man, on the other hand… Well, when he puts on that mask, it’s pretty much business as usual. He appreciates his face covering more than ever and, hey, it’s cool to do a job with social distancing built in.

His gratitude for the web-slinging side-gig only increases as the weeks of pandemic life stretch into months and Jameson starts ordering him back into situations that are just plain stupid from a health perspective. Never mind that he got kinda accidentally stabbed the other week. It’s a totally different set of dangers. Peter resists the new assignments and because Jameson’ll be in deep shit if his number one Spider-Man photographer makes a fuss about working conditions (and because people are getting so desperate for employment that he can pay a new hire even less than Peter’s paltry freelancing rate), the Bugle shells out for another photographer to cover the work Peter won’t do. Good for Peter’s health, bad for Peter’s bank account―which is already whimpering with hunger pangs from sitting near-empty after paying rent. This gets him thinking. It might be time to turn his early-quarantine hobby into his mid-to-late-quarantine money-maker.

Yeah, pandemic hobbies! By April, it seemed to him like everybody was picking something up. Bread-making, yoga, sewing masks for healthcare workers left criminally under-equipped. The hobby Peter picked up, well… it’s a little different. He began practicing it indoors (obviously), by himself, and with skills gained from reading and watching material on the internet. In those ways, it’s a lot like other people’s hobbies. In some other ways, it’s very, very different. Like, instead of putting on specialized clothing like an apron or yoga pants, Peter’s hobby requires taking clothes off. It’s stripping. Peter’s hobby is stripping.

A few things led to him picking that over sourdough or Sun Salutations. Peter loves not only old movies but also old music. Old movies with iconic dance scenes? That’s, like, the perfect combo. He spends a lot of his downtime playing music in his apartment and, when he’s not wiped or injured, dancing along. He figures it’s good for his mood as well as his fitness. Seriously, he can only do so many chin-ups on the metal bar braced in his bathroom doorframe (which is starting to crack). Patrick Swayze’s solo routine from the end of Dirty Dancing is way more fun, even if Peter did tear the knees on a couple pairs of sweatpants because of it. The more music he listened to, the more he started freestyling his own moves in between those of leading men. It was that―trying to create something good of his own―that helped him understand the routines he watched. He figured out the balance between precision and sex appeal and somewhere in there, he realized he was performing for an audience in his head. And what this imaginary audience wanted wasn’t always the goofiness of acting out Risky Business and sliding across the short strip of bare floor between his kitchen and living room in socks, underwear, and a white shirt. Sometimes, the audience wanted him to lose the shirt.

At that point, Peter was once again wandering out of what he knew. He was comfortable with movie dances, had a little of his own repertoire, but he lacked this extra element of storytelling; it was the one that took him from fully dressed down to boxers and socks without tripping and struggling and falling into his meager possessions. That was when he turned to the internet and confronted the fact that he wanted to learn how to strip. If he happened to stumble into related tutorials on how to give a lap dance, who would know? Who was there to judge Peter as he performed for an empty kitchen chair, dragging his hand along the back and body-rolling to buck his hips towards where someone’s face would be? Yeah, it was kinda embarrassing while he was learning, but he had the endurance to try a move over and over until he nailed it, the strength to draw out isolated movements like twitching his hips to keep his butt drawing circles on the lap of his invisible patron, and the overall coordination of, well, Spider-Man. Which ends up being the most important piece of all because, when Peter decides to take his show on the road (or at least out of his tiny apartment), his ‘stage�� name requires about a second of thought. Spider-Man. He’ll go by Spider-Man. He laughs his ass off when he thinks of it. It’s fucking genius! Spider-Man stripping as himself is the last thing anyone would ever suspect!

Naturally, Peter can’t use any of his actual Spidey suits. Those would probably give him away. Also, he’d feel weird about having Karen’s voice in his ear while he flexed his abs next to somebody’s head. Fortunately, after a little digging―which turns into a lot of digging and leaves his room a mess of comingled clean and dirty clothes―he finds his original suit. The zip-up hoodie plus sweatpants one. Yeah, its technological capabilities are basically zero, it’s a little grimy, and too tight, but he doesn’t need it to do anything besides come off. The wear-and-tear will lend genuine-fake authenticity to his character and the snugness around his more developed muscles (it’s been a decade since he wore it last) will make it… sexier? He guesses? The most important thing is the mask, which is the only part of his costume he won’t strip off. Apart from his underwear, obviously. He’s not that wild.

He gets to work cutting a vertical line up each leg of his sweatpants, then sews in snaps. Boom, tearaways. They look kinda shitty, but if he’s any good at all, whoever he dances for shouldn’t be staring at loose threads.

So Peter has his moves, his costume, a few songs in mind, and no engagements. Oh, he thinks he can figure out how to get jobs, it’s just that he somehow keeps coming home, sitting down to compose his ad, and then doing something completely different instead. He’s truly scared witless. Nobody’ll see your face, he chants in his mind to psych himself up every time he’s heading home to his apartment. Still, he freezes at his laptop. There’s nothing about his body that he’s ashamed of―he uses it every single day to help people as Spider-Man. Maybe it’s that, this time, he’d be using it to help himself. Is he a monster for making a buck off his superhero persona? Peter holds onto that question for about a week until the date to pay rent is approaching and his bank account shudders in horror. Ok, money’s tight and he hasn’t been hit by a car lately, so he won’t freak anybody out with road rash or bruising or more of his hand-sewing to close gashes. With a little self-pedicure here and hair-removal there, Peter looks at himself in his bathroom mirror and decides this is as good a time as any.

He advertises online and his hands are still trembling when he gets a call from an unfamiliar number ten minutes after his ad goes live. The ringing phone actually makes him jump. It’s probably a telemarketer, or a wrong number. Nobody would call him with a job this fast. He was counting on having at least a day to sit with the choice he made. Peter fumbles for the phone and answers. For the next minute and a half, he struggles to hear the woman’s voice over the blood rushing in his ears. She thinks he’s the Spider-Man Stripper. He is the Spider-Man Stripper. This is hilarious and terrifying and oddly similar to the brief moment of freefall between slinging one web and the next as he darts around Midtown. Her friend’s birthday party, she tells him, two days from now. Something else she planned (Peter’s adjusting his sweaty, slipping grip on his phone and misses the details) fell through and if he can be the entertainment for a half-hour or so it would save both the party and her friendship. Not to add extra pressure, she jokes, laughing. The sound Peter makes is a weak echo. So can he be there? Is there space in his schedule? He pretends to check that ‘schedule’ so she doesn’t think he’s a total amateur. Yep, yep, he has an opening for her. She has an opening for him, she flirts back, making his eyes go wide as he clutches the phone. God, why couldn’t his first gig have been for some 22-year-old’s bachelorette instead of this middle-aged-sounding woman who possibly wants to eat him alive? By the time she’s telling him her address, Peter’s hands are shaking worse than ever, he can’t immediately find a pen, and she reels it off to him way too quickly. He’s scrawling the address on his arm and right as he opens his mouth to ask her to repeat it, she hangs up. He peers at his arm doubtfully. Should he call her back for confirmation? No, he doesn’t have the guts. Anyway, he can figure this out. The street name was Woodman, right? Or was it Woodlawn? And the number was 712. Or 271. There was definitely a 7 in there somewhere. And his client’s name was… Lisa? Lana. Maybe Linda?

Peter cradles his face in his hands and groans. When his phone starts ringing again―different number―he frantically declines the call, then deletes his ad. One job at a time. Even that, he now thinks, seems ambitious.

―

MJ’s glad she’s not the one throwing this party together. As Liz’s best friend, it’s Betty who took the reins, organizing and then scrapping everything more than once as New York moved from phase to phase during this pandemic. The end result is still less than what MJ knows Betty wants; ideally, there would be more than a handful of guests and things like shiny helium balloons and fancy desserts would be hand-delivered to Liz’s front door on the day of the party. Instead, MJ sits on the arm of Liz’s couch as she inflates yet another latex balloon the good old-fashioned way: blowing it up by mouth until she’s dizzy.

Cindy stomps over and plops down next to her, snatching a balloon from the party pack of 50 (and Betty insists they need them all). She’s been banished from cupcake decorating. MJ would offer a word or two of sympathy, but balloon duty has the prior claim on how she spends her breaths. All she can do is toss Cindy a plastic tiara (Betty bought one―just one!―reading ‘Mom-to-Be’ for Liz, but the online shop screwed up her order and sent two dozen ‘Birthday Girl’ tiaras in its place) after tying off her finished balloon. MJ’s already wearing one. Meanwhile, the tiara-less Mom-to-Be is being driven around the block a million times by her cousin because they’re having the party at Liz’s place and Betty wants the decorations to be a surprise. Liz’s husband, more simply, was banished for the entire day. MJ originally thought they could’ve put him to work, since it’s pretty hectic, but she’s too oxygen-deprived to worry anymore.

Finally, Betty declares from the kitchen that she’s frosted her final cupcake. MJ begs for a reprieve from balloon-inflating and Betty, feeling accomplished and generous, agrees they probably have enough balloons now. Cindy casts her half-inflated one away in disgust before going to help Betty clean up baking ingredients and do dishes. MJ does her best to shoo the balloons to one side of the living room, then carries spare chairs in because their couch won’t fit everyone. Fortunately, they’ve all been recently tested for illness and been vigilant hand-washers and mask-wearers since then, so at least she doesn’t have to find a way to keep every seat six feet apart. She’s just positioning a final chair, still a little out of breath from the balloons, when the doorbell rings. In the kitchen, Betty screams.

“IT’S STILL A MESS IN HERE! STALL HER!”

“’K!” MJ agrees.

She kicks a couple stray balloons out of her path and goes to get the door. They weren’t supposed to come back to the house until Betty texted, but maybe they got tired of driving around, or Liz started feeling carsick. MJ knows she’s been pretty delicate her entire pregnancy with twins floating around in her uterus like a pair of nausea-inducing astronauts.

As she opens the door wide, she sucks in a deep breath to call out a sarcastic ‘Surprise!’ But it’s not Liz and her cousin. It’s… a guy? In a red and blue costume. She thinks it’s a guy. She can’t even see the person’s face, but when MJ reaches up to self-consciously adjust her ‘Birthday Girl’ tiara, they tilt their head and seem to follow her movement.

“Oh! I’m here for you! You’re… not what I was expecting.” It’s a masculine laugh. Young. Nervous.

She crosses her arms suspiciously.

“You’re not what I was expecting either,” she accuses.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “I guess it was supposed to be a surprise.”

What? Betty might have planned a few surprises for today, but MJ does not recall a dude in a mismatched sweatsuit being one of them.

“Guess so,” she says slowly.

“Sorry, I’m, uh, Spider-Man.” He gestures to the costume. Well, she can kinda see the very distant resemblance to what the real Spider-Man wears; there is a crudely-drawn spider on the chest.

“Uh huh.”

MJ’s suspicion is shifting into amusement―this guy really seems to think he has an invitation―when Cindy comes up behind her. MJ darts a look at her friend and is glad Cindy’s no longer sporting her own tiara. No need to confuse this poor… Spider-Man impersonator.

“What’s up?” Cindy asks, poking her chin over MJ’s shoulder, happier now that she’s fled the tasks Betty continually assigns.

“Hey,” says ‘Spider-Man’. “I, uh, I was hired to, uh, dance for the, um…” He gestures at MJ’s tiara. “…birthday girl.”

At ‘dance,’ MJ’s eyebrows shoot up. She looks quickly at Cindy and realizes she’s going to say something. Cindy will handle this how she handles any inconvenience or anomaly: with forthrightness and concision. She’ll have this faux-venger hitting the road before MJ can blink. With a short, friendly laugh towards Spider-Man, MJ angles herself to block Cindy from view and locks eyes with her friend. Cindy’s face says, What are you doing? We don’t know this guy. MJ’s counters with, Let’s see how this plays out. Cindy rolls her eyes, but nods, so MJ steps away from her again.

“As long as you haven’t traveled outside the country in the last fourteen days or experienced symptoms of fever, etcetera etcetera, come on in,” Cindy invites, gesturing Spider-Man through the doorway. “I’m so sorry, but we were running a little behind with the food, so I have to disappear back to the kitchen. But why don’t you get started for her?”

“Cindy,” MJ hisses as she closes the door. “You have to stay.”

“I believe the man said he was here for the birthday girl.”

Cindy smirks and they both glance over to see that Spider-Man has found the speaker and connected his phone. Something catches MJ’s eye and her gaze skims down his leg. What’s up with the side of his pants?

“I’m not the birthday girl,” she reminds Cindy in a panicked whisper. “There is no birthday girl.”

“Well, in her absence, it looks like you’re the one getting her presents. Careful with that one.”

“Because it seems fragile?”

“Because I feel like it’s the kind that comes with a big package.”

Cindy pokes MJ hard in the side and flees when she squirms away. MJ glares after her. Yes, she’s curious about what the hell this impersonator’s doing here in that crappy costume, but it’s so much easier to be curious when she can observe something unfolding without actively having to participate. What she was thinking was that he’d come in and the three of them―Betty, Cindy, and herself―would see how far this went before something either gave them away as not being the people who ‘hired’ him (so he claims), or the guy crumbled under the quavering weight of his own anxiety. Nothing about his look or his manner announces experience. Now, MJ’s on her own as she takes a seat in one of the chairs she brought in. She crosses her legs, bobs her foot, and hopes to hell that Spider-Man’s a breakdancer.

“Listen…” she begins to say, leaning forward to address him, but as she speaks, he turns up the volume and her uncertain voice is drowned out by chimes tinkling above throbbing bass. Oh no.

It’s the tempo that scares MJ. She thinks she could deal with a rabbiting drum intro or the bright squeal of quick fingers on an electric guitar. This song is tauntingly slow and it’s obvious, by how Spider-Man turns in her direction and walks to her with measured steps, that what she’s about to experience will look nothing like handstands or the worm, nothing youthfully, recklessly acrobatic. It’s also clear that she’s in this alone now because the guy putting his back to her and swirling his hips with agonizing slowness as the gravelly vocals come in is in some kind of zone she can’t follow him into.

When I look in your eyes… the song goes. …I can feel the fire.

Nope, MJ’s outside of this, in the real world, where she hears him lower the zipper on his sweatshirt. When he rotates to face her, taking his time, she finds her hands are gripping the seat on either side of her thighs.

A see-through disguise can’t conceal desire.

Spider-Man’s disguise is hardly see-through―seriously, he must’ve been sweltering in those sweats on his way here―but it’s open now, from his clavicle down to where the band of his pants grips his taut abdomen. He probably can’t hear the groan that pushes out of her mouth when she’s just trying to exhale. God, please let the music cover it, MJ thinks. His hood’s still up as he steps even closer to her chair, subtly twitching his hips in her direction, and the ends of his sweatshirt dangle, flashing glimpses of more chest, more abs. MJ swallows and reminds herself that this is all kind of a joke. That she’s the one indulging him and they’ll laugh when this is over. She’ll apologize for the mix-up and he’ll shrug it off as he accepts monetary compensation for his time.

I’ve been readin’ your lips… the singer announces in a louder growl. Spider-Man abruptly strips the blue sleeves from his costume, leaving his torso bare beneath what’s now just a hooded red vest. He’s a fake superhero, but those arms are the real deal. Wow. …they don’t need no translation.

He widens his stance, drawing her eye down to his solid-looking thigh, then slides his hand across her shoulder to grip the back of her chair. His hips roll forward and she instinctively uncrosses her legs. With the extra room, Spider-Man briefly presses his thigh to hers. It scrunches the hem of her dress up before dragging it back down as he retreats. It’s reasonably innocent, likely not even intentional, but heat flares up MJ’s face like one of the candles she might blow out if this were actually her birthday. Honestly, she keeps forgetting it’s not.

They want more than a kiss, I come to make my donation.

Ok, she feels more than just thigh when he glides higher on her lap. MJ automatically flicks her gaze lower, because he’s a stranger and right in her space, and it lands on his groin. Spider-Man bucks suggestively and MJ immediately raises her eyes from the bump in the front of his close-fitting sweatpants. Jesus, is it warm in here? Somebody should do something about that before Liz gets home, fiddle with the thermostat or, or something…

So turn out the lights! the singer’s voice rockets up and goosebumps ripple up MJ’s arms as Spider-Man’s hands smooth down them in his fingerless gloves. He bounces low into a crouch and can’t be more than an inch away from the fabric of her dress as he rolls up her body, face in her lap for, I’m goin’ down slowly. Her pounding heart and rapid breathing almost push her boobs into his forehead when he reaches her chest.

Don’t tell me what’s right, just tell me you want me.

When their heads are level, Spider-Man surprises her by sitting lightly on her lap, nearly chest-to-chest. He takes her hands in his―MJ’s sufficiently stunned to allow him to break her grip on the seat―and guides them to his head, making her push his hood off. It’s strange to feel the mask under her palms. Wondering what his hair looks like really shouldn’t be a main concern right now.

Oh, tell me you want me. Just tell me you want me, want me, want me!

The more insistent the song becomes, the more persuasively Spider-Man gyrates in her lap. Sliding a hand over his head shouldn’t be this seductive without visible hair to push his fingers through, but the way his arm bulges with the motion makes up for it, in her opinion. MJ doesn’t know what to do with her hands. They hover in the air between their bodies.

Let’s make it, baby! the song explodes as he thrusts forward powerfully, throwing his head back.

Well, let’s make it, baby!

His hands go to his shoulders.

Well, let’s make it, baby!

He works his vest off, revealing the rest of his chest.

Let’s make it, baby!

He flings the vest toward the sofa. MJ doesn’t know whether or not it lands there. She doesn’t turn to look. This is… more muscle than she’s ever seen in person on a single human body. Once more, he takes hold of the back of her chair, but it’s with both hands now and his forearms squeeze her in, compelling her to lean forward as he grinds across her lap, forward and back, to, Come, come, come a little bit closer. His face angles into her neck; she feels his nose brush her skin through the mask. She can hear him breathing and it electrifies her. The only reason she clamps her thighs together like she does is to give him more room to straddle her. Really, it’s for his comfort, as a professional. Because this is all just… very professional.

She hasn’t determined where to lay her hands, which is fine because he has another use for them.

I wanna play doctor, the singer drawls while Spider-Man brings her hands to his pecs. Is his heart beating as hard under there as hers is right now or is she imagining it? He effortlessly takes gentle hold of her wrists and encourages her hands down his body. She doesn’t even notice when he lets her go to peel the gloves from his hands and push his sneakers off, leaving MJ to trace the thick, defined ridges of his abdomen.

It keeps gettin’ harder, harder, harder to keep it away!

With the end of the line, Spider-Man rips the sweatpants off―a series of metallic popping sounds too close together to count. Not that counting’s on her mind. Eyeing the cherry-red boxer-briefs that are even tighter than the sweats, she swallows. She can’t remember how to exist on the outside of this. She can’t find the door. Believing that this guy―who’s not really Spider-Man, just like she’s not really a birthday girl―understands, that they’re sharing the scorching intimacy she suddenly feels, is naïve. MJ is not naïve. She just can’t exactly explain why what should be an obvious (skillful, but obvious) pantomime of sex is working on her like real foreplay.

I wanna taste the sweat…

She swears he’s breathing harder than the dancing alone can explain when he palms her knees and pries them apart. Her legs are slack and willing. She is sweating.

…that’s runnin’ over your body.

Tucking his fingers into the backs of her knees, Spider-Man jerks her forward on her seat. It raises her hem to mid-thigh and her pulse to low orbit. He hikes her legs around his hips and she crosses her wrists behind his neck without guidance as he stays in what has to be a strenuous squat to body-roll. Everything comes forward in a delicious wave, from his shoulders to his crotch. From lots of angles, it probably looks like he’s fucking her into Liz’s kitchen chair.

In actuality, there’s no contact between them―not anyplace interesting―until…

Get the sheets all wet!

MJ doesn’t know if his hips nudge between her legs accidentally or intentionally on an overzealous roll. She’s never been given a lap dance before! Is this right? Is this permitted? He seems ready to run with it, repeating the action with greater certainty.

Yeah, I wanna make ya feel nau-nau-nau-nau-nau-nau-nau-naughty!

When the singer quits stuttering out the word, Spider-Man lifts MJ right off the chair into his arms. She inhales hard, desperate for air as the song returns to, Let’s make it, baby! And let’s make it, baby! Well, let’s make it, baby! And let’s make it, baby, baby! He has one hand grasping the underside of her thigh, the other clutching the middle of her back. He thrusts toward her through the chorus, shy of nudging the way he did before. The motion sways MJ fairly gently, thanks to his sure grip and ability to carry her weight with ease, but she might as well be tumbling around inside a washing machine for all she currently knows of up and down.

The animal urgency of the chorus drops down to the slow lull of instrumentals and Spider-Man sets MJ on her feet. She just about rolls her ankle and plans to never admit this made her weak in the knees. As irregular drumbeats keep her on edge, he sneaks around behind her and takes her wrists, raising her arms over her head as she fights the instinct to turn and stare at this guy’s mostly-naked body. She hasn’t dated anyone since before the pandemic, but it’s more than that. While she holds her arms up there, Spider-Man rocks against her from behind, the inside of his thigh rubbing the outside of hers, messing up her skirt, confusing her heartbeat. His hands clamp down on her hips and work them in a circular motion with her ass pressed directly against him.

Wait.

―

Peter’s hard. Of all the things that have definitely gone wrong (having to make up a routine from scratch after blanking in the face of a woman 20 years younger and 500 times more beautiful than who he expected to find) and probably gone wrong (he hasn’t shaken the exhilarating feeling that he’s almost certainly at the wrong house), this is the most serious. He’s in so, so far over his head and sinking deeper, metaphorically, as the woman he’s wrapped around cautiously returns the pressure, pressing his erection.

He was so nervous after meeting her that he went straight to setting up his music and forgot to ask for her name. It’s not like he can casually ask now. It feels like things have gone too far for that. Wasn’t he supposed to feel some layer of detachment, doing this? Stripping’s supposed to be a part-time job, like taking pictures for the Bugle. Maybe he’s too used to caring about people to set himself apart from this. Maybe it’s the shock of her youth and the feeling of touching a real-live person after practicing with an empty chair over months of physical distancing.

Maybe he’s just horny.

The instrumental section goes on and on and Peter yearns. This is a job, he thinks, running his hands up to her waist and back to her hips. As the musical intermission’s finally drawing to a close, he improvises again, scooping the woman up into his arms in a bridal carry just to eliminate the sweet friction against his dick. Where does he go from here? He knows what the tutorials told him, what really gets the target of a lap dance/strip show going. Could go with the couch and push his red vest aside, but the soft rug underfoot beckons.

Now turn out the lights! Bon Jovi rasps as Peter moves gradually to his knees and nuzzles his masked face into the woman’s chest because, at this point, why the hell not? She smells so good. He hears her gasp, then her fingers dig fleetingly into the back of his neck like she wants to hold him there. But she lets go and he lays her on her back in the valley created by leisurely-migrating silver balloons. The light refracted on the woman’s face is crisp and ethereal.

Don’t tell me you love, love me, no… Just, just tell me you want me.

Peter springs on top of her, arms braced and locked, and performs an exaggerated horizontal roll, his hips close above hers. This is the million-dollar (or, like, twenty-dollar) move. The one that unambiguously mimics sex. Though it’s so overstated, so dramatic, the tutorials claimed that, by this stage, the person being performed for would be so wound up, so aroused, that they’d just about believe it was the real thing. He watches the woman’s shaky breathing and flushed cheeks, feels her hands caress his abs, and thinks he’s doing pretty damn good. Too bad he can’t count this as a performance. The desire he feels when he lowers himself closer to her is not an act.

Don’t tell me you love me.

The skin-tight front of his underwear skims her dress. And, though she should really keep her legs out straight to do her part in preserving the distance between them (because he’s fucking failing), she slides her foot along the floor, raising her knee. Peter snatches hold of that knee with the feeling that they just signed some kind of contract and grinds himself against the fold of skirt between her legs. The woman’s chest heaves as she pants. His balls ache for him to stop playing.

Oh, tell me you want me, want me, want me, want me, want me, want me, want me! Bon Jovi and Peter’s sex drive demand, from a rumble up to a scream. Let’s make it, baby!

The woman beneath him tosses her head and bats away a balloon that clings to her hair. Her birthday crown’s askew.

Well, let’s make it, baby!

Peter’s hand is on her ribcage, too near her breast.

Well, let’s make it, baby!

He huffs, loud inside his mask, as he thrusts against her like she’s not some accident, like she asked him to meet her here. For this.

And let’s make it, baby!

Distinct lyrics burst into a high, expressive shriek of noise that sounds enough like a woman being pleasured to send a tingle up Peter’s spine. He grinds down hard, gripping the woman’s hip. By the second shriek, her back’s bowing, her hands commandingly squeezing his arms. By the third, she’s moaning as she rocks against him, tearing an appreciative grunt from him in response. The fourth shriek finishes her right before the song. Peter’s breathing hard on top of her, on the jaw-clenching edge of climax himself, feeling her writhe as the music fades out. It just leaves the two of them here, damningly entangled.

After a long silence, his playlist moves on. Peter stares down at her another few seconds as she strokes her fingers across her mouth, then her eyes snap to where she can’t see his through the goggles.

“Oh shit,” he mutters.

The woman laughs awkwardly like those two words are an understatement for the degree to which this has not gone as planned. She didn’t even know the plan, but anyone would know this was not the intended conclusion―a stripper dressed up in a novelty Spider-Man costume should excite, entertain, inspire lust. But he should stop short of dry-humping his client to completion. Yeah, that has to be an unwritten rule someplace. Peter really shouldn’t have needed to read it to know better though. This has just gotten incredibly out of hand and he has no idea what to say or do.

“LIZ IS ON HER WAY!” a female voice yells from the back of the house, maybe the kitchen that the other woman vanished into earlier.

Peter jerks to his feet, still rigid in the front of his underwear. He thinks the woman he just, uh, danced for is requesting help up, but she’s actually pointing. He looks and sees the bathroom just off the stairs.

“I’m good,” she says. “Go before Cindy sees you.”

Snagging his pants from the floor and the vest portion of his sweatshirt from the couch, Peter bolts for the bathroom as the woman sits up from the rug. Inside, his hands quake with adrenaline as he zips his sweatshirt and refastens all the snaps on his pants. He does his best to adjust things so his waning erection’s not too obvious. For a minute, he yanks the mask from his head and stares at himself in the mirror as he breathes. This is not the side-hustle for him. This was his first and last gig as the Spider-Man Stripper.

Mask back on, he returns to the front room to find the woman he was grinding all over standing with her arms crossed protectively as her friend appears to grill her under her breath. They both look at him as he stuffs his feet back into his shoes and grabs his gloves and the blue sleeves of his sweatshirt. He’ll just carry them. If he stood here and began redoing them, he’d probably die from mortification before he got the last snap snapped. He collects his phone, stopping the music mid-song. He doesn’t know what’s playing. Could be his favourite song in the world and he wouldn’t be able to hear it right now over the volume of the look his ‘birthday girl’ is giving him.

“I’ll just, um, show you out,” she offers, shepherding him away from the woman he takes to be Cindy. She doesn’t volunteer anything about the other person, Liz, who they seem to be expecting.

“Great.”

He’s thankful that Cindy gives them a little space and doesn’t follow. They pause in the entranceway. The woman presses two fifties into his hand, avoiding eye contact. Peter clears his dry throat and nods, closing his fingers over the money because he’s more uncomfortable about the idea of prolonging this with a back-and-forth over him saying it’s too much while she insists than he is about the idea that she’s kinda paying him for sex, even if thinks she doesn’t mean to.

She pulls the door open and Peter jumps aside for two women, one very pregnant. There’s a flurry of voices all of a sudden and when he slips outside onto the step before someone can ask who he is and what he’s doing here, he doesn’t expect the birthday girl to come after him.

“MJ,” she blurts out.

He grins under the mask.

“Peter.”

He never gets to tell people that when he’s in disguise, but she doesn’t know he really is Spider-Man. The honesty feels good.

“So, that was…”

“This wasn’t supposed to be… Um,” he starts again, swinging his arms slightly. “That was my first time. Doing this. I’ve never done a routine for anybody before, so I want you to know I haven’t, like, done that with a bunch of people. I’ve never done this. And I think, uh, based on what happened in there, that I probably shouldn’t.” Peter’s laugh is strained. “I really don’t―”

“Do you want my number?”

He chokes.

“What?”

“I… thought I might as well ask,” she says, clearly self-conscious, looking prepared for rejection.

“No, of course I do,” Peter tells her quickly, holding out his phone. “Please.”

“Ok.” MJ gives him a quick smile, then looks at his screen as she adds herself as a contact. He’s grateful she’s the one putting the numbers in. He really can’t be trusted with that. Peter’s not nervous now, just excited as he thinks about using the money she gave him to buy her dinner.

Though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer, he says, “This isn’t the right house, is it?” as she hands his phone back. She laughs.

“No.”

“Yeah, I… kinda had a feeling.”

“Hey, whoever she was, her loss was my gain,” MJ says bluntly, then blushes hard. Peter chuckles to himself, looking down.

“Ummm…”

“Well, I should get in there. Baby shower.”

“Right, yeah, sure, you gotta.”

“But call me.”

“I will. I definitely will.”

“Maybe you can even show me what you look like without the mask,” she says.

Peter nods, body nothing but a cage for a butterfly swarm, then turns. Behind him, he hears Cindy’s voice as MJ steps back inside.

“Did you just give him a hundred bucks?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what you owe me for going in on the stroller!”

“I’ll go to the bank and take out another hundred right after the party if you want,” MJ offers, sounding unconcerned.

“But a hundred bucks? MJ, he was here for ten minutes!”

“Trust me, Peter earned it.”

“Peter?! That’s Spider-Man’s name?”

“Cindy, come on, he’s not actually Spider-Man.”

The door shuts. Of course he’s not. Peter could no more be Spider-Man than he could fall half in love with a woman simply because of the way she smelled and the fact that she wouldn’t let him off the hook for a lap dance. He starts down the sidewalk with a skip, smiling wide beneath his mask.

[bambisfuneral]

Warnings: Mentions of suicide

Ｅｎｔｅｒ ｐａｓｓｗｏｒｄ： ＊＊＊＊＊

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Ｗｅｌｃｏｍｅ Ｇｕｅｓｔ Ｕｓｅｒ

——————————————————————————

Sunlight soon covered your half sleeping form, it made you throw your arm over your face to shield you eyes from the light. After what felt like ten minutes which was only ten seconds, you slowly sat up and stared at the bulletin board that hung above your desk. Instead of there being only two pictures, there were now four. The first one was a candid picture of you writing in her notebook, the second one was of Tendou with a wide smile holding up a peace sign and you in the background pouting at him.

“So you know how I said I used to be in your same position? I used to be a patient too, and in this psych ward. I just kinda..... I didn’t have anybody else admit me here I signed myself up, but with the way people treated me and how they talked to me, it sorta felt like they were the ones that made me sign up. It was like everything I did and said was wrong. Y’know I played volleyball when I was in school? That was where my heart was at, but people took it so serious. Like what’s the point in playing if you can’t have fun doing it?” I listened intently to everything he said nodding in agreement, it did suck being treated like you were beneath any and everybody so I knew how Tendou felt.

“That was my paradise, but my last year of high school, my team lost nationals and after that, volleyball for me was no more. Actually, all those guys you seen in the staff room? We were all on the same team, he wasn’t here but this guy Ushijima, I think he was my first true friend. He was never scared of me! To him, I was just another guy. Can you believe that? I was actually normal to somebody for once, I was never a monster. But I didn’t know that growing up, I was so used to people calling me a monster that I eventually became one........”

Tendou had stopped talking and I looked up from the food he gave me to look at him, he was looking up at the stars and he had a longing look on his face. Eventually a small smile replaced that, “I was lucky though, I healed eventually. Not everybody gets the chance to do that, so I wanted to do better and be better. So I went to college to be certified to be a doctor here, it feels nice being able to connect with people in this field. And then it feels even better knowing you played a part in making other people feel like they’re something, even if it’s just for a second”. He had looked over at me and his smile grew, “oh by the way, that’s Semi’s left overs so you might wanna thank him for that the next time you see him”.

The memory swallowed your mind and it was like you was glued to her bed as your eyes stuck to the picture of the red-haired doctor, he was an odd one. But he kept you company and was definitely a lot more accommodating than most doctors. Maybe you should just relax today. You rolled your eyes crossing your arms stubbornly. I’m being serious Y/N, you beat yourself up a lot for things that aren’t your fault. You don’t want Satori to come back tomorrow figuring out that you’re putting yourself in an unfixable predicament. “Kenma it’s fine! I told you that I got it under control, I’ve been feeling okay” Yeah Tendou’s right, you are full of shit. You watched Kenma hop up on your desk swinging his legs, “Oh I didn’t realize I was here to get tag teamed by you two” and you’re right, you’re not. You’re here to get better, but you can’t do that if you’re making yourself feel like crap all the time. I’m telling you, being around Satori’s gonna be a good change for you. You bit your lip and changed into a fresh set of clothes tossing your dirty ones in a corner.

“Hey doll, I know you’re not gonna like this very much, but I’m not gonna be here tomorrow. I got the day off and I got things I need to do, but I’ll drop you off some lunch and dinner so you don’t gotta eat the crap that they serve in the cafeteria. So.... what do you like?”

“So what am I supposed to do when he’s gone?” You muttered to yourself frowning. Ummm maybe socialize? Go eat breakfast? Maybe go talk to one of Satori’s co-workers? Kenma was talking to you like you were slow and it frustrated you but knowing he was just looking out for you, you decided to let it go. “Okay well I guess we can find that one guy I’ll Dr. Tendou was talking to in the staff room last night, it’d be easier if I could just ask around but I don’t know his-” Dr. Semi Eita, you’re welcome.

“Okay so it’s your turn to share now, and IIIII knooow you want to ask me stuff. I can see it on your face” Tendou’s eyes to match his sly smirk and he poked my cheek repeatedly before I slapped his hand away, “I mean.... you said you weren’t mad but I’ve never seen you lash out like that and it didn’t happen until after you and that guy talked”. I watched as his smirk dropped and his eyes darkened, “Doll you’ve never seen me lash out, not even in the least. So listen to me when I say I wasn’t mad. Now what else’s on your mind?” My lips pursed to the side as I looked away from him and clenched my fists together on my lap, his hands covered mine and he slowly opened my fists. I could tell by his gaze that he was still waiting for me to answer his question.

You walked up to the marbled counter with a glass wall surrounded it, behind the glass was an older bigger woman with brown hair which was starting to grey. Her fingers cracked against the keyboards for what seemed like a good five minutes before she stopped and looked up at you coldly. The woman was looking at her over her glass before pushing the frames to the bridge of her nose, “can I help you?”. You looked over at Kenma nervously and he was leaning against the wall with a thumbs up, you just huffed and turned back to the lady behind the counter. “Yes um.....” Y/N...... I swear, you spent eight minutes in your room just trying to figure out what you had to say and you spent an extra ten minutes reciting what you were planning on saying. Stop overthinking it and get it over with. This made her eyes widen and fists clench tightly, “I was wondering if I could see Dr. Semi? I’m assigned to Dr. Tendou but he’s not here today and he said if I needed to talk to somebody then to ask one of his doctor friends”

There was a moment of silence with the lady staring at her with amusement dancing in her eyes. A few seconds passed by before she pressed one of the buttons on a metal board off to the side, “Dr. Semi? Yes you have a patient here to talk to you, so if you would just come around to the front to come get her that’d be great. She said she’s one of Dr. Tendou’s patients”

“I was wondering if tonight could be our first official solo therapy? And maybe whenever we have them, we can have them up here?” I asked meekly only to be met with silence and then a thundering laugh, “That’s all? Yeah I doubt that was the only thing that’s been going through your brain these passed thirty minutes”. My lips curled downward while I shook my head, “Obviously not but I can’t just sit here and dump all my thoughts on you all at once!” A small smile was given to me which seem like a sign of appreciation, “Okay well we can start with that solo therapy then, how’s every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday at eight sound?”

The man from last night came around the wall next to the counter and gave you a warm smile. “Dr. Semi?” He just nodded and reached his hand out for you to grab, “You can just call me Semi, it’s fine. Let’s go into my office” you followed behind him and you looked back to see Kenma grinning to himself. He gave you a reassuring smile before turning to leave, you wanted to call out after him but you felt eyes boring into the side of your head. When you turned back to face Tendou’s co-worker, he was looking at you with a patient look but sort of threw his head motioning to go walk inside his office, so into his office you went. As soon as you walked in he patted the other end of the sleek burgundy couch he was sitting on, “so, is everything okay? Tendou told you he was off today right?”

You just nodded your head making yourself comfortable on the cold material you were sitting on, “Yeah I just wanted to know if he’s gonna be back tomorrow, and I was kinda wondering if I could have a solo therapy session with you? And maybe you could record it so you can show it to Dr. Tendou?” Semi smiled softly at you nodding. “Yeah, of course! I’m assuming that things are going smoothly with you and him because of what you just asked of me? And thank you for feeling comfortable enough to talk with me” This made you mirror the smile on his face as you dropped your hands in your lap, “Yeah! I was pretty indifferent at first, but Kenma convinced me that this would be good for me. And yeah, I figured that if Satori knew you in high school and you were still friends that you couldn’t be all that bad. Especially with how he is....... but I have a question”

Demi’s eyebrows quirked up at the use of Tendou’s first name, he barely allows anybody to use his first name so it took him by surprise, his predicament must’ve been more serious than he let on. He stayed quiet but gestured for you to continue with your question, “Last night when you and him were talking, why did he ended up so...... not mad but....” you didn’t even know what to say to described how he was and how it felt being near him during that ride up to the roof but it seemed like Semi understood what you meant because he chuckled knowingly.

“Yeah see, it’s not really my place to tell you this, but I’m sure Tendou’s already told you about him being a passed patient here. He gets a certain attachment to people easily and he used to be very co-dependent to the individuals he was attached to, it was very unhealthy what he was going through. He’s actually still bettering himself about it. So he was just telling me some things and I was trying to understand the situation and tell him that things aren’t always what they seem, then he just..... sort of became frustrated. It’s hard to explain but I hope you understand, maybe tomorrow you can talk to him about it. Now about that session, let’s begin?” You nodded and on cue he hit the recording button on his voice recorder, “So Miss Y/N, why are you here?”

“So doll, are you gonna tell me why you’re here? Did you sign yourself up orrr....” Tendou didn’t finish the last part to his sentence but I understood where he was going with it, “um..... okay so I was actually signed up by my parents, back in my first year of high school. The doctors at the ward I was assigned to said nothing was wrong with me, but then my parents told them about my habits, how I acted, what I did, all that fun stuff, and so the doctors deemed me to have a type two bipolar disorder, schizophrenic, aaaand a compulsive liar”. I seen Tendou grinned to myself and my brow raised in confusion, “Yeah I seen the compulsive liar part in your files and I started questioning that, cause you haven’t been showing any signs of being a liar”

I huffed and rolled my eyes in irritation, “it’s because I’m not! My parents were so hellbent on trying to convince them that I was suicidal, but I’m not and I never was! I just know my life’s gonna be cut short eventually. But it’s life, it happens to everybody eventually so I was never phased by it and they just deemed it as me being suicidal...... okay so I lied, I was suicidal but that wasn’t until after they prescribed me Zoloft because of my bipolar disorder. After they started making me take Zoloft I was in a very dark place. I wouldn’t take showers for days, I never wanted to get up, I woke up everyday not seeing the purpose in life so I never wanted to do anything....... I was at the lowest of the low and I didn’t know what to do.”

I looked over at Tendou trying to read his face but he just smiled at me almost innocently which gave me the confidence to keep talking, “okay so this went on until I graduated high school. They had me taking online courses which didn’t go too well. But guess what? It turns out that the doctors at that specific ward were giving all the patients that were showing even a minor sign of being upset Zoloft because they knew that the patient would eventually commit suicide. So the ward shut down” the disgusted look on Tendou’s face matched mine and he frowned deeply. “It took..... three years for them to get that piece of shit ward to get shut down? That’s beyond me” I just exhaled a breath and pursed my lips, “Yeah I know, but they just ended up transferring me to a different ward but I was legally an adult so they gave me a choice and well..... I have a friend, he’s actually in this ward also! He actually convinced me to stay, but not for him. It was for my own benefit, me and him have been friends since elementary school!”

Tendou had a look of shock and confusion on his face, “oh..... really? What’s his name?” I nodded my head happily and smiled widely. “Kozume Kenma!”

Ａｒｅ ｙｏｕ ｓｕｒｅ ｙｏｕ ｗｏｕｌｄ

ｌｉｋｅ ｔｏ ｓｉｇｎ ｏｕｔ？

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Ｗｅｌｃｏｍｅ Ｄｒ． Ｔｅｎｄｏｕ

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Tendou had just walked you back to your room and he was headed back to the staff room with long and fast steps, when he reached the door it swung open due to the force of him pushing against it. It slammed against the wall behind it and his friends were once again still sitting down at the table bewildered, “Tendou? What’s wrong?” He shook his head conflicted before pointing at his silver haired co-worker. “Come with me”

He led him into his office and walked up to his computer without closing the door behind him or sitting on his chair, he just pushed it out of the way. His fingers slammed against the keys rapidly, “What’s wrong now Tendou?” Semi came up behind him with a puzzled expression. Tendou just stayed quiet and kept typing on his computer, “Okay so look, Y/N said that she has a friend at this ward right? But if you look in our files, there are no results for a Kozume Kenma” Tendou mocked Y/N’s voice when he said his name, “She also mentioned that he was roomed with her. Buuuuuut if you got to the files of the first ward she was at, their files say a guy named Terashima was roomed with her”

Semi sucked a breath in before thinking silently, “We could make a call to the second ward she was transferred to and ask the big guys that work there about her” Tendou nodded deep in thought. “Yeah.... yeah that could work” it was silent as the phone line rang, Tendou tapped his fingers against his desk timidly and Semi was sitting down on the previously unoccupied rolly chair. The phone rang a few more times before a deep voice answered, and Tendou made eye contact with Semi. “Yeah this is Doctor Tendou Satori at the Shiratorizawa Psych Ward, who am I talking to?......Alright Mr. Kuroo, well I’m assigned to this woman, L/N F/N, that was recently transferred from you guys. She told me about a Kozume Kenma but there are no results of one in your files?”, Tendou hit the speaker button and the voice on the other line inhaled deeply before letting out a long sigh.

“Yeah..... there was no Kozume Kenma in our ward. But the three of us were friends growing up, Kenma actually committed suicide when we were in secondary school. That was when Y/N started showing major signs of depression and schizophrenia, she started seeing and hearing Kenma everywhere she went but when she transferred to our ward, I made sure that I was the one assigned to look after her. It seemed like she was getting better but I could tell being around me was holding her back from fully healing, so I transferred her again.” It was like Tendou and Semi were having a staring contest the entire time, Tendou’s lips were parted with a loss of words.

“Oh..... alright thank you for this new information, well have a good rest of your ni-” He was cut off by Kuroo, “Hey listen.... Tendou was it? How’s she doing? How is Y/N?” Tendou sucked air through his teeth feeling lost. “I thought it was going pretty good, but with what you just told me? It’s like I’m back at square one with her” The line was silent before a knock was heard on the other side, “Okay look, I gotta go but I’ll email you my personal number alright? We can talk more about it if you want, and maybe.... you can keep me updated on her?” He just nodded like the man was right in front of him to see.

“Sure thing, alright I’ll let you go. Have a good one” The phone clicked and Tendou sighed letting his head drop, “Semi?....... I gotta do it” he turned his head to the side to meet eyes with his friend and Semi just sighed crossing his arms. “Only if you genuinely feel like it’ll better her wellbeing”

Ａｒｅ ｙｏｕ ｓｕｒｅ ｙｏｕ ｗｏｕｌｄ

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[charmed-henry]

13. Write a crack!ship au for one of your characters. 

(Read more is just for length, this is just extremely fluffy so no warnings just be aware that there’s a dumb amount of fluff)

Magnets: A Phinry Story

When Henry was just about to begin his first schooling lessons and meet other children, his mother sat him down and took out a set of magnets. She had wanted to be a science teacher, in another life, before the realities of being a woman in the Order had fully descended on her and her career options narrowed for her. But Henry’s mother had still gone and purchased some of the demo items, because she liked looking at them and thought they could be useful now and then in character education.

“Now, Henry,” his mother started. “People are a little bit like magnets.”

Henry peered at the magnets closely, determined to understand his first lesson of school, even if it wouldn’t show up on his report card.

“Do you see how when you put the two plus sign sides together, they repel? And same with the two minus sign sides?” She demonstrated, trying to push the magnets together and meeting resistance. Henry reached for the magnets, determined to see for himself. He frowned. “Exactly,” Henry’s mother smiled.

She turned one of the magnets around this time, so the positive met the negative. They snapped together. “But, you see, when they’re different, they stick together.”

Henry looked up at his mother, amazed by the little miracle.

“So remember, Henry: Don’t turn your back on someone just because they are different from you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There was one boy in Henry’s class who clearly did not belong there. He was a first-year student, wore a sweatshirt for the business school all the time, and yet here he was in Abstract Impressionism: Understanding Pollock. He sat at the front of the class and raised his hand to ask questions that most students would never ask except maybe in their very first intro class. Basic stuff. This was an upper-level course, and if you didn’t know the things you were supposed to by now, you kept your mouth shut.

Unless you were Phineas Flynn, apparently. 

Nobody else really seemed bothered by it, though. Henry complained about Phineas to the other members of the study group-- his million questions, his know-it-all attitude despite that, what a business student could possibly be doing in a class about Jackson Pollock-- and was met with blank stares.

“Honestly, I didn’t think about it that hard, mate,” Callum shrugged, not looking up from the diagram he was labeling meticulously. 

“Yeah, he’s probably just knocking out a requirement. Every module has one like that,” Riva added, looking thoroughly done with this conversation. “Cal, can I see what you have for number four?”

So Henry stewed silently. He knew when to drop something, at least in a conversation. But Phineas just wouldn’t go away. Figuratively or literally, considering he was walking over now.

“Hey, mind if I sit here?” he said, already plopping his books down next to Henry, who was just about to protest when Riva gave him a lazy wave of acknowledgement. Well. Henry didn’t want to be the asshole here, after all.

Henry got significantly less work done that afternoon than he normally would. At first, because Phineas wouldn’t stop asking questions and cracking jokes, and then because Henry found himself actually laughing at those jokes and answering those questions, and, really, because how could he focus? It was like a magnetic force, pulling him away from the work he was supposed to be doing.

And toward Phineas.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Phineas had gotten significantly bolder since graduating from Swynlake Secondary about going after what he wanted. Life was too short, and he didn’t want to be known as that guy who pined after the same person for months. So he made himself a promise, a sort of new-school-year resolution. The minute he met someone he had a little bit of interest in, he would ask them out. If they said no, well, Phineas thought that getting used to rejection was a good life skill.

It turned out that was easier said than done, though. In his first two weeks of Pride U, he had already invited multiple people to get coffee with him, one of whom turned him down, one of whom accepted and then spent the entire time trying to recruit him to a multi-level marketing scheme, and two of whom Phineas had a great time getting coffee with, but realized he had no real romantic interest in. Casting a wide net, it turned out, was very safe. If you only considered people who didn’t really interest you, then you never got hurt.

Basically, it was like this: if you were playing Mario and you only wanted to fight the Koopas, you would never win the game.

And if those little coffee dates were Koopas, Henry Charming was Bowser.

Phineas didn’t know what it was about him. He just kept finding himself near Henry, in the library or in line at the dining hall or walking around campus. Like some force was pulling them together. He rehearsed it a few times, the way he would ask Henry out to coffee. In the mirror, and even once in front of Mei, who was a love witch after all. She had told him what he already knew, though: if he didn’t ask Henry out, he would never know. If he did and he got rejected, then he would know it was over. And if he did and Henry said yes, well, there was a whole world of possibilities. 

The Bowser comparison was apt, Phineas thought, as he walked into class that day. The whole room felt like a freaking lava planet.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They didn’t get coffee. But they did end up at a party together, as Pride U students often do. Henry’s acapella club threw a new member recruitment event (once they abandoned the creepy-cult-ritual thing as a recruiting strategy) and Phineas, maybe in another act as part of the universe’s magnetic pull, wanted to join.

He finished one red solo cup of liquid courage and felt braver. And maybe a little queasy, because beer never really agreed with him. But it was a college party, and this was what you did at college parties.

Henry was outside, standing by himself and shivering in his polo shirt in the unusually-chilly September night. Phineas didn’t know it, but Henry was psyching himself up for the same thing Phineas was. Talking to one another.

But because Phineas was doing this new thing this year and he had to prove to himself that he could do this because he put these arbitrary markers of success on himself, he was the one who burst through the back door, quickly enough to trip over the step and go flying right at Henry. Like some force was propelling him forward.

“Blimey!” Henry exclaimed, stumbling backward as they both caught their balance. “Too much to drink already?”

“Actually, literally the perfect amount,” Phineas blurted out, before he could even stop himself. It was now or never. “Would you like to get coffee with me?”

“What?”

“Coffee. Or dinner, or lunch, or I dunno, I think some people like to go on dates in the art building if you’re into that, I suppose--”

A smile twitched at the corners of Henry’s mouth. “So this is a date.”

“...Yeah,” Phineas said hesitantly. Oh god. Code Red. Abandon ship. This was it. This was exactly what he had feared. The word vomit started and he couldn’t stop it. “I just thought, you know, we really hit it off, but obviously, if you didn’t get the same vibe, that’s totally fine, like, you know what? Actually, I’ll just go.”

Phineas started to walk away, but before he could, Henry grabbed his hand. “Wait!” he said. And it felt like more than a magnet meeting its match; it was more like an electric conductor. Phineas froze and turned around.

“I’d like that.”

And then there was a pause, and they looked at each other for a long time, and then, like some kind of magnetic force took over both of them, they were somehow pulled toward one another in a kiss.

[berniedette]

Walls by Louis Tomlinson First Listen Album Reaction

Alright, I have my good earphones plugged in and I will be listening to the whole album in order, no skipping. Let the Brit come and invade my ears and mind. Here we go...

Track 1: Kill My Mind

I’ve heard this before. Upbeat. Devil in my brain. Ease the pain. I really love the bridge to this. The energy. Yessssssss

Track 2: Don’t Let It Break Your Heart

I’ve heard this before. This is the track version now. Little bit longer intro than the single version. I love the lyrics to this a lot. It’s already helped me in my personal life. It’s just so so nice and comforting and reassuring, but it never crosses the line to cheesy. I think it’s cuz it’s sincere. It’s saying yeah it fuckin hurts and you feel like it’s killing you… but DON’T. LET. IT. Also, the guitar towards the end is just magnificent.

Track 3: Two Of Us

I’ve heard this before. The keyboard on this song is absolutely killing me. The swells in this song is just heartbreaking. The chorus is just so passionate. One Life For The Two Of Us. It’s sad, yet hopeful. OH MY GOD the outro. That might be my favorite part. It makes me want to give him a hug, not because I think he needs it but I think he just deserves it for being so strong.

Track 4: We Made It

I’ve heard this before, but it’s hitting me so hard right now. The melody of this song is something special. The big pop chorus swells aren’t there, and without it, the song just has a flow and a tempo and a rhythm that kinda says, “yeah, we made it,” We’re here. We’re not stopping. We’ll keep going. We’re “never coming down.” SO. WHAT. The almost spoken-word style of this song just makes one need to listen to the lyrics all that intently. It’s a statement. Some of the verses talk about a relationship with somebody, yet the chorus and feel of the whole song makes me think that he’s just talking about himself. He could also be talking to his fans, but I like my idea that he’s talking about himself. Maybe to the person in the mirror, idk. And the quip about the “singing something poppy in the same 4 chords” lyric is hilarious when compared to the style of pop of this song. I really like this song. Favorite so far.

Track 5: Too Young

Oh wow okay. Echos. This style seems so familiar to me, like a songwriter or a producer I’m familiar with made this. I don’t know what I feel about this song. I’m not getting sadness, it seems like it’s just so matter of fact. And that’s weird cuz Louis’ voice normally (and so far in this album) have been so expressive and emotional. This is weird. It might be how much echo there is…. this is weird. His voice kinda sounds distorted, like it’s been edited to sound even more soft and tender. Creeps me out a little, like listening to asmr. Maybe it’ll be better if I didn’t have earphones in.

Track 6: Walls

The title track of this album. This was released a few days or weeks ago. I might have listened to it once, but I haven’t even watched the music video yet. This vocal is so much better than the last one. “Nothing wakes you up like walking up alone.” I hear that. That’s happened to me once or twice lol. There are a LOT of instruments in this already, and I haven’t even gotten to the first chorus yet. I like the vocals in the chorus actually. Up and down, and up and down. Okay, I’m sorry did this man just rhyme lost and because???? I love that! That’s a quote right there. I really like the melody of this chorus. Oh wow. End with the opening line. Okay, Mr. Tomlinson, I see you.

Track 7: Habit

He really likes the combo of acoustic and electric guitars huh? OH MY GOD excuse me mister baritone wtfffffffff. Where did that come from??? LEMME START OVER. THAT THREW ME OFF lmfaooo. Aw, this is so sad. Aw, he misses crack cocaine. KIDDING!!! I like this song. Yeah, compare that person to a drug. I love that. I love this song, wow. “I was better with you”? Oh honey nooooo. Awww, I usually love bridges and Louis writes really good ones, but the lyrics in this song’s bridge is not okay with me. :( This is a fantastic song tho. Second favorite so far.

Track 8: Always You

Damn okay. Uptempo it after my heart just broke with the last one. I like the opening chords. OH WAIT, are these even chords? Whoah hold up. It went SUPER POP rn. Sounds kinda dance-y. Is there gonna be a bass drop in this song? I’m calling it now lol. What the fuck?? Bro. Wtf. This is SO POP I cannot even. I can’t focus on the lyrics cuz my head in is spinning. Is there a fuckin feature on this???? What the fuck is this. Okay, it’s over. What. The. Fuck. Was. That. Why the fuck was that song in this album??????? That’s so weird. Who let that happen??????? It’s so out of place!! I can’t. I have to move on.

Track 9: Fearless

Are those sounds of children? Ew. Wait a sec, is that shade? OMG These lyrics are soooooo shady. Yesssss I love this sound for him!!! It’s anger. YESSS. YELL BABY!! Claps. Who is this song for??? Who is the umbrella under?? Who are we shading, honey? I NEED TO KNOW omg. “Tell me do you still remember feeling young” YES BABY ROAST THEM. This is fuckin hilarious and this just knocked down Habit as my 2nd fave.

Track 10: Perfect Now

Strumming an acoustic. Awww, the lyrics of this song is so sweet. This would be a great song for him to sing by himself on stage in concert, him playing the guitar. That would be so sweet. I know there’s some violins, but the song don’t need that live. “I guess some queens don’t need a crown” It’s true hun, but it’s obviously the perfect accessory. “You make me feel like being someone” is such a fantastic line.

Track 11: Defenceless

Ugh, the British spelling, I guess lol. Okay lyrics, you’re strong. Okay kickdrum, you’re working overtime. I really like this. Nice drums on this one too. It felt kinda busy at first, but it works. “By YooOoUuUu.” I feel like I’m getting attacked. And I’m fucking defenseless (that’s not the British spelling lol).

Track 12: Only The Brave

The title sounds like an army thing lol. Okay, is this the 60s? I like the sound actually, it’s pretty cool. Retro. Wait, it’s over already?!?! I gotta listen again wtf. I didn’t even understand a word. I just heard that he went up to head voice thrice. Okay, again. “I’m breaking all my rules, I’m crying like a fool.” Wow. I get the sound now. I appreciate this a lot. I gotta read these lyrics. Seems to me he sang “it’s a solo song and it’s only for the brave” which wow. Amazing end of album line.

Final thoughts:

Louis Tomlinson is a very talented singer and songwriter. He has his sound and he’s not floundering about. This album proves it. I’m not mad at it at all. I liked almost every single song at first listen and I’m sure the only one I have a problem with will grow on me. I thought ending on Only the Brave was absolutely perfect. It is a very strong song to end on. Lastly, if you’d excuse the lame metaphor, this debut album is a strong wall which he can build more onto (with tours and more singles and more albums) so that in no time, he’d have a very tall building that can touch the sky.

My Top 3

3. Habit

2. Fearless

1. We Made It

Special Recognition to Only The Brave for being hauntingly raw and honest

[where-fading-princesses-live]

What is your opinion on Rolf’s scenes in the movie?

((Sorry this is going to be long. I’ve been trying to finish this for the past three days.)) So just going off from what everyone else said, I agree that Rolf’s scenes could have been trimmed down some, or at least utilized in a more productive manner. He’s all geared up like some hardcore Indiana Jones, looking ready as ever to whoop some serious ass, but he never really does anything. I mentioned it before, but it’s as if the writers just didn’t know what to do with him…

(Credit for art goes to Marlushion)

That pretty much sums it up.  

Granted, I don’t hate Rolf’s scenes. Far from it, actually. I just feel like he could have been slightly more on track. His scenes not only go on for too long, but in the entirety of his screen time, all he does is… fry an egg (???), pour some ‘’Rö suk’’ on a car seat, yells at Wilfred, mutilates a perfectly good muffin, yells at Wilfred some more, milks a cow, drinks unpasteurized milk, yells at Wilfred, gets a meat grinder stuck on his head… so yeah, basically, Rolf’s scenes are, as everyone described, just the very definition of filler. Which is a shame, considering Rolf is one of the most interesting and complex side characters.

In fact, Rolf isn’t the only three-dimensional supporting character that had less to do in this finale. Jonny and Jimmy also take back seats in their subplots, and they, too, have been the most developed of all the supporting cast. Maybe it’s just because these three characters had so much character development throughout the series that there just wasn’t anything left for them to do, and so the writers decided to shift focus onto characters that had very little development, like Sarah, Kevin and Nazz. The before mentioned characters were always the least interesting and least popular among fans, so I was surprised by how much screen time they received in BPS. Not only that, but their subplots are fairly interesting, at least compared to the more popular secondary characters like Rolf. I suppose it all boiled down to time constraints. It was more important, anyhow, that the Eds had their dramatic conflicts resolved and their time to shine– the rest of the cast just had to pick up the left-overs. Still, it would have been nice if Rolf, Jonny and Jimmy had the opportunity to be as great in BPS as they normally are in the series– even if they had plenty of development prior to BPS, this was going to be the last time we would ever see these characters, so to have them do nothing due to time, well, again, it’s a shame. EEnE was one of the few shows of its era that had a very strong supporting cast, so even if we watched it for the Eds, it was still a treat to see the others, too.

I think the majority of fans dislike Rolf’s story arc mainly because it lacks comedy (or at least, the usual Rolf antics we’ve come to expect). I like @mundane-ededdneddy-headcanons theory in that Rolf has been alienating himself further from the group and becoming more and more introverted as the series progresses. This is true. Towards the end of the series, Rolf has had some more serious moments than usual, moments that reflect his more introverted nature. For example, in ‘’Too Smart For His Own Ed’’, it’s revealed that he suffers from stage fright and has a phobia of public speaking. Yes, this same kid who bravely performs in front of his friends without a hint of shyness…

… loses the Spelling Bee due to social anxiety. 

‘’No Speak Da Ed’’ is perhaps one of the darkest Rolf-centric episodes, the plot which heavily draws upon past childhood trauma. So it’s not as if Rolf was never serious before BPS. Even before Season 5-6, Rolf had some heavy material in his episodes, such as ‘’Wish You Were Ed’’ and ‘’Dueling Eds’’.  So again it’s not like Rolf can’t be serious– but because he’s more beloved and popular for his comedic timing, I guess his story in BPS fell a bit flat for some. I think the criticism mainly stems from the fact that even in his more serious episodes, the writers always made sure to pull it back to comedy. In ‘’Wish You Were Ed’’, it begins kinda sad, but then it gets pretty outrageous. 

Same goes for ‘’Dueling Eds’’, which handled a pretty serious topic of Eddy unintentionally hurting Rolf’s feelings… it begins normal enough, but then escalates into… insanely… weird… shit… 

Even ‘’No Speak Da Ed’’ ended on a comedic note. So if BPS handled serious frustrated Rolf in the same way they handled these episodes, maybe fans wouldn’t be so nitpicky about it?

Maybe the meat grinder was meant to be hilarious, but it’s actually just kinda sad. I mean, the kid loses everything… all the possessions he can carry, his pig, his shoe… I mean, he’s kind of a wreck at the end. I don’t know about anyone else, but I wasn’t laughing, and maybe I was supposed to be?

But going back for a moment, maybe fans just weren’t thrilled with the idea of Rolf being so cut off from the rest of the group. Granted, he has really always been an introvert, just not in the pure sense of the word like Jonny and Edd. Rolf’s more of an extroverted introvert, in that he enjoys the company of his friends, but he’s also not afraid to go solo. We’ve seen moments of Rolf alone before– but that’s all it was, moments. He’s revealed to be a slightly different person when he’s alone as opposed to in a group. In fact, he’s more serious when he’s alone. In ‘’Pick an Ed’’ we see him sitting alone under the bleachers, dwelling over his poor grades. His frustration here mirrors exactly how he is during the entirety of BPS: talking to himself, talking to his pig. But I think because we’re not used to seeing him alone so long, it was maybe a tad unsettling to not have him bounce off of anyone and vent his anger and frustration in other ways– such as through comedy. The same would be true for the rest of the cast. It’s interesting to see how the characters react when by themselves, but they are much more interesting when bouncing off each other. I could say the same for the Eds– they wouldn’t be nearly as interesting by themselves. So because Rolf is alone for the majority of BPS, he doesn’t have the opportunity to be as fun as he usually is.

He isn’t playing comic relief in his story at all. Like Kevin, he’s terribly frustrated and solely focused on revenge. But even though we as fans sit here and analyze these characters like we created them, we didn’t, and maybe there was a creative reason why Danny–who obviously knows his own characters better than we do–decided not to go with comedy for Rolf. Maybe he felt it would be too inappropriate for this type of setting? I mean, all the kids have pretty dramatic moments in their stories… but then again, even in their most tense situations, they still have room for comedy. I’ve seen several responses already suggesting Rolf should have at least tagged along with Jonny or acted as a third wheel in the Kevin X Nazz X Bike subplot. Either one would have been good, but maybe Danny just didn’t want him around to crack jokes? Maybe he felt as though Rolf could be more than that? Maybe he just wanted to give us something we wouldn’t expect? The way they paired up the kids was a no brainer– but again, maybe there was a reason why they wanted Rolf alone with his pig instead of with his friends. I think there were other ways to make his story work without interfering with the other kids, one of the suggestions being the previously mentioned pitch that all he needed was more comedy. He could have still bounced off Wilfred the same way he bounces off the other characters, and in a less cruel way. That’s another criticism of mine, having him be so unreasonably harsh towards Wilfred. Rolf has never been shown to be extremely abusive of his animals before. Maybe he was just taking his anger of the Eds out on Wilfred… but it was still a tad extreme and slightly out of character, even for Rolf. I’m almost glad Wilfred bit the shit out of him.  

One last thing to add. Towards the end of the series, Rolf has been taking on subtle traits of Double D by not only improving his English and expanding his vocabulary but also…

Not only does he better his English, even though he can’t excel in school despite working his ass off to little avail, but Rolf also starts to embrace science and technology, as if an excess of Double D’s annoying habits rubs off on him. Season 1-4 Rolf is behind the times, often resorting to animalistic tactics and do-it-yourself conduct, using natural resources and living off the land. The only hint of ‘’technology’’ in his antique-ridden old-world colonial-style home is a dated television set with foreign characters on the control dials and limited channels. But in BPS,  he goes full Steampunk mode while tracking the Eds, which, as cool as it seems, is a little out of Rolf’s passé character. Though Steampunk incorporates modern technology with the aesthetic of 19th-century industrial steam-powered machinery, it also seems very advanced for Rolf, who in previous seasons, would use traditional, natural remedies like Carbuncle of the Flesh Stew to heal acne and other skin blemishes. Analyzing egg whites to uncover evidence of missing persons in a forensic-styled science experiment sounds more like Double D’s mojo, not Rolf’s, no matter how DIY. Oh well. He may have temporarily stolen Edd’s thunder but he looks badass, so who gives a flying cow?            

Oh, also…

It might be safe to assume that science and agriculture aren’t so different after all, so perhaps Rolf’s retrofuturistic tendencies in eventual installments isn’t so bizarre.

[senorshawn]

Best Mistake AU- Part 2

Warnings: Alcohol, partying, unedited wtf have I written???

The golden sun rise seeped through the cracks between the curtains in the spare room that you had slept in last night. The light displayed itself across the wooden floor boards and on to the bed that you laid awake in. You were procrastinating going down stairs and facing Shawn after the events that almost happened.

Obviously your stomach didn’t seem to get the memo, as it grumbled and turned from it’s empty state. Without thinking twice, you threw the covers off behind you and quickly got up, the cold floor shocking your bare feet.

Shawn was leaning over his kitchen island, cup of steaming tea in one hand and phone in the other. Geoff, still half asleep, eyes dropping, was sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone.

Upon hearing your quiet footsteps trudging down the stairs, Shawn shot his head up, sneaking a peek at your smooth bare legs, carrying you towards him,

“Morning,” you said to him, causing him to blink out of his trance, and catch your soft y/e/c orbs,

“Hey, morning,” he responded,

You looked around the counter space for any trace of a fresh morning meal to settle your gut, “Breakfast?” you asked to either of the sleepy men in the conjoined rooms,

“We’ve been waiting for you to get up and cook it,” Geoff called from his spot.

You rolled your eyes, looking to Shawn for confirmation if what he said was true or not.

He smiled cheekily, crinkling the corner of his slightly squinted eyes, and tilted his head subtly to his left shoulder, “Pretty please,” he asked in a sugar coated voice.

After cooking an easy bacon and eggs breakfast, Shawn was considerate enough to help wash the dishes, since Geoff ate and ran out the door. However, you wish he wasn’t because of all the water he was splashing on the floor and your toes, “Shawn stop, there’s more water on the floor than in the sink!” you informed him.

He took a small step back, keeping his wet hands over the sink, and inspecting the growing puddle on the floor, “It’s not that bad,” he said,

“ ‘not that bad’? I could swim in it!”

“You’re exaggerating, be happy I’m actually doing the dishes,”

“This is your house, you should be doing the dishes!”

With a simple lifting action from Shawn’s forearms, he doused the front of your navy shirt in lukewarm, soapy water. You stepped back and gasped, your arms spread on either side of you, reacting with the shock of the wetness. Shawn struggled to hide his laughter as he avoided eye contact as well.

Lunging back to the sink, you grabbed a cup full of water. His eyes widened with realization and put his hands out to guard himself, “Okay, Okay I’m sorry!” he tried.

You laughed at his pathetic attempt at bargaining, and threw the water out of the cup, over his head. His once walnut brown curls were now a dark, damp mop drooping over his eyes. Taking a moment to absorb your actions, he shook his head back and forth with a huff, like a dog shaking excess water off its fur.

A mischievous smirk then tainted his lips, “No,” you warned him immediately, with a pointed finger,

“What?” he teased with honey dripping from his lips,

“You know what I meant, stay where you are,”

He then lunged for you, arms out in front of him, wrapping one arm around your torso, and his other hand grabbed your forearm to prevent you from smacking him. You crouched down, struggling to avoid him and escape his grasp, but this only gave him more leverage. Leaning his head down, he began to wipe his soaked hair across the side of your face,

“Ew, get off me you dog!” you giggled,

“On one condition-”

“No!” You interrupted him. He  scoffed at your comment, and shook his head,

“Go to Brian’s costume party tonight,” he said

“Why?”

“Because I’ll be there,”

“That’s more of a reason for me not to go,”

This only encouraged Shawn to rub his wet hair against you again, “Alright, I’ll go!”

He released his grip and you immediately began trotting out the room, but the sound of Shawn’s voice only made you stop and turn around, “Oh and y/n, it’s a costume party so, wear something delicious,” he winked.

You flipped him off.

“This better be a good party, or else I’m not sticking around,”

You glanced over in the mirror from your earring to Jaimie, standing behind you,

“You hardly ever go to parties, I don’t think you know what a good one is like,” she said smoothing out her costume and keeping her eyes on herself in the full length mirror, “although, this one should be interesting since one of your lover boys will be there,”

You quickly spun around in your chair and gawked at your best friend, “’one of them’? You think I have more than one? You think I even have one?” you fired off,

“Shawn and Brayden. Maybe Brayden will make an appearance and you’ll have double the fun,”

“Ew, I can’t believe you said that. Brayden is just a friend and nothing is happening between Shawn and I,”

You turned back around and readjusted your ponytail in the mirror. You were attending the party as Rachel Green, in a red plaid skirt paired with a white long sleeve, and Jaimie was going as Monica Geller in a red tank top tucked in to light wash jeans.

“Well do you want there to be something between you and Shawn?” Jaimie asked looking at you this time.

You thought on it for a moment, thinking back to the other night and the intoxicating feeling when you thought he was going to kiss you but was interrupted, and this morning in his kitchen as you were washing dishes and playing around.

“No,” you hesitated, “I don’t know,”

Your best friend offered you half a smile, “C’mon then, lets go have some fun,”

The party was mobbed with people dancing, drinking and stumbling around. You kicked a red solo cup out of your path to the kitchen, and dodged flying arms.

The upbeat music was muffled in the kitchen, where you found Matt, Brian, Geoff and Shawn, all matching in black jeans, white shirts and black leather jackets with their hair greased back,

“It is so adorable when couples coordinate couples costumes,” Jaimie teased, causing all of their heads to turn to the two of you standing in the doorway.

“There’s the ladies!” Matt called, raising his drink up in the air as if gesturing a cheers,

Shawn stood up from where he was leaning, and set his drink down, “You gals want a drink?” he asked,

You raised an eyebrow at his word choice, “’Gals’?” you repeated to him,

“It’s all part of the persona baby,” he gestured to his greaser outfit.

Shawn went on to mix you and Jaimie some drinks which you gladly accepted, knowing his concoctions always turned out delicious.  

A few refilled cups later and you were feeling a good buzz. Clinging to Jaimie, you squeezed your way through the crowd, to one of the couches in the livingroom. She plopped you down next to Shawn, and he instinctively wrapped his arm around your shoulders, “Havin’ a good time?” he asked, leaned in close to your ear you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

You nodded, and scooch closer to him, the heat radiating off his body luring you in. Shawn peaked down at you, taking in your appearance, and feeling the sudden responsibility to care for you in your drunken state, and he didn’t mind it, “You look amazing tonight,” he told you.

You looked up to see him grinning ear-to-ear giving you a fuzzy feeling in your gut, “And you always look amazing,” you complimented, resting your head on his shoulder and resting your eyes.

Sitting peacefully in the middle of the noise and sweaty bodies, you would’ve fallen asleep, if you hadn’t heard someone call your name. You opened your eyes, and standing infront of you, with his hands in his pockets was Brayden, “Um, hey,” you said slightly confused, not at all expecting to see him here,

“Are you uh, busy right now?” he carefully asked, looking between you and Shawn,

“Yeah she is, if you couldn’t tell,” Shawn answered for you quickly. Even with your delayed senses, you could still feel tension begin to thicken,

“I was talking to her,” Brayden snapped, alarming you.

A tense pause settled in as both boys glared at one another. You felt awkward just sitting there, so you thought up a lie, “Well, I was just telling Shawn that I was ready to head home... because he is my D.D,” you slurred, “So,”

“So lets go,’ Shawn jumped in, rising to his feet and offering you his hand that you instinctively took, keeping a tight grip as you tried to pull yourself up, leavinf Brayden alone and ticked off.

Shawn stopped infront of his car and turned to you, “Did you really want to go home?” he asked. You bumped in to him, not anticipating his sudden stop,

“Yes I do, and you’re only driving me if you’re sober,” you stated,

“Relax, I’ve been drinking pop all night,”

Shawn helped you out of the S.U.V, and walked you to your door in silence. You clumsily unlocked the door and opened it ajar, turning back to Shawn. He was already smiling at you, with an unrecognizable glimmer in his eye, that egged on your adrenaline, “You gonna give me a kiss goodnight Greaser,” you asked, you heart was pounding and you kind of enjoyed this new found courage the alcohol in your system was giving you.

He raised his eyebrows and chuckled, “You are very drunk, Miss Green,” he stated.

Riding on your adrenaline, you slowly backed in to your threshold, bit your lip and beckoned him in with your finger, and added a wink.

Shawn shook his head, unable to turn you down, leisurely following you in, and closing the door behind him.

[trash-and-recyle-fics]

Slightly gone

“Hey goodnight I’ll see you tomorrow!” Jensen called out as you started to head to your trailer and you waved. You have been on spn for a while now and your character is supposedly on a solo hunt that will last the episode but will let you have some days off in your real life.

You waved back and went to the assigned trailer. Quickly showering off the fake blood and sweat from the day you gather clean clothes and head out to your SUV. Your bodyguard Stephen sat passenger, mainly because you always insisted on driving.

As you get out onto the freeway about 45 minutes away from your apartment a car comes up on your ass. Not slowing down and slightly drifting from side to side in the lane. You sped up hoping to ditch the guy but he kept pace. Soon enough he moved over to the left and started to pass you. It happened all so quick. His rear end hit your front end and the car spun out of control. Stephen has his arm across your chest and you had your back pressed to the back of the seat. Nothing could have stopped the car from rolling and other cars tried to swerve out of the way. You car came to a rest upside down when another car tried to avoid the jam and hit your side of the car head on. The suv went skidding across the freeway and you blacked out.

—————————————

“Wait what do you mean accidents.”

“It was a pile up. After the first car hit us the rest tried to avoid our car and one hit her side of the SUV.” Stephen was speaking to your coworkers. Who just so happened to be finished with work for the day. When they found out what happend they left and came to see if you were ok. You weren’t though all you saw was black but could hear everything. People talking, beeping and the rush of footsteps. You couldn’t feel anything. Probably a good thing at that. Soon enough though not just doctors entered your room it was your family. Not your mom and dad they were still in the states and most likely don’t know what happened yet. But your other family. The one you had been with since you were 10 years old. You had been living with your aunt but now had your own apartment. Jensen, Jared , cliff, Stephen and misha were there. The doctors apparently had made an exception for them to come in and visit you.

“Hey Y/N.” It was Jared’s voice but distant.

“We miss you.” Cliff gruffes put this time even more far off. Then you started to feel warm... and light. The beeping started to fade from your ears and the voices went with it. Then you heard this...this crying. Like a baby. The light got brighter and the crying did too. The mumbling of doctors and nurses became present. Then the weirdest thing.

“Is she okay?” A voice echoed through the room.

“She has ten fingers and ten toes. Health is looking ok.” You throat was scratchy and you were cold.

You weren’t in heaven or hell but a new life all together.

————————

Time skip 15 years

*you have no memory of being born again or of your past life*

“THEN JUST KILL YOURSELF.”

Your cracked out mom screamed. She was screaming at you. She was foaming at the mouth and had her hand in her hair. She hasn’t been herself lately but this, this was new. You ran down the hall and put a bag together just throwing in clothes. You jumped out your window and ran down the street. Your feet hit the pavement at an alarming rate and you didn't stop. You ran past the run down movie theaters and the family owned diners. You kept running. You ran until your lungs burned and until there were no more street lights to guide your way. Just the lonely sound of crickets and the occasional owl. 

By this point in the night it had to have been close to 40 degrees and only a couple cars have passed, the damp air was hard to breathe through and the wet pavement was starting to make your feet ache. The low rumble down the road was barely audible, yet you could see the faint glow of headlights. You readied yourself. you stopped and held out your thumb. You walked into the empty lane and prepared. The car started to slow down and stopped a few yards away from you. you walked up to the driver window and you met eyes with a women. She would have had to be mid 30s if not almost 40. Her dark hair was cut into a pixie cut and her eyes looked concerned. 

“Are you okay?” You meant to lie but instead the truth came out. 

“No.” Tears welled in your eyes as a shiver went down your spine. 

“Get in honey.” you walked to the other side of the car and hoped in. 

“I’m Jody Mills. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” She nodded. Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”

“I can’t go home.” Seeing your mistake you tried to make it sound less like you were an easy target. Jody must have seen the look on your face. 

“Hey it’ s ok I’m a sheriff. You aren't in danger.” she opened the center console and pulled out a badge. “Why are you hitch hiking?”

“My mom told me to kill myself so I ran. Don’t take me back there i’ll just run again.” She nodded. Obviously seeing your fear.

“Okay but I got two of my own girls at home and I wouldn’t want them to be roaming waiting to get abducted so you are coming home with me. You can sleep in the guest room. If you steal anything though I will arrest you. Got it?” You nodded.

“It’s about 15 minutes away from here. When we get home i’ll get you some clean pajamas and if you want you can take a shower. How long have you been out here anyways?”

“I think I left around ten.” 

“Geez kid it’s two in the morning.” 

“Oh.. I walked awhile then.” 

“Yeah you did.”

The car slowly goes forward and you buckle in. The radio was on and Jody was tapping the steeling wheel. Sleep was heavy in your eyes and body but you just couldn’t let go. As you pull into the driveway there was a truck with big letters saying sheriff on it and another car. A bit older but still drivable.

“Comm on.” You slid out of the car every movement wanting to just lay down and sleep. Jody unlocks the door and lets you in first.

In the couch was a girl with blonde hair watching a movie.

“Who are you?”

“Claire. This is Y/N. She is staying with us tonight.” She just nods excepting the fact there is a random person in her living room.

“I’ll get you some clothes the bathroom is down the hall you will see it.” You head down to the bathroom and stare in the mirror. Your eyes are red and puffy, your hair stringy and greasy. You were damp from mist and sweat. Jody knocks on the door and hands you a stack of clothes.

“I have some dinner on the table for you shower and come on out to the kitchen.”

“Hey uh thanks. For uh not kidnapping me.”

“Well your welcome but if I ever see you doing that again I’ll take myself out of the equation and get the cops involved.” She said it with a smile and shut the door.

While in the shower the warm water washed away the sweat and chill from your skin and got the dirt from hair. The raw memory was fresh. Not easing from your mind, not going anywhere. It was haunting you and there was nothing you could do.

“Hey Y/N. You ok?” When Jody knocked it snapped you out of your trance.

“Yeah be out in a minute.” You turned the water off and scrambled to get the pajamas on. As you walk to the kitchen Claire is no longer on the couch and the tv is off. Jody sits alone at the table and was eating. She to was in pajamas. You sat down next to her and started eating. The more you ate the warmer you felt. Not physically but like you were safe. Not happy but content.

“So I will wash your clothes tonight and you can sleep in the guest room but what is the plan for tomorrow?”

“The plan?”

“Yes the plan. Are you going to run again or are you going to stay. Those girls, I adopted so I wouldn’t mind you stayin too but you got to let me know.”

“I mean..”

“Are you still in high school?” You nodded.

“Okay well how bought you stay here until you graduate and go to college?” Before any words could leave your mouth. She nodded like she made her mind up.

“Okay. So it’s settled.” Jody picked up your plate and put it in the sink.

“Go on get to bed. I’m the morning we will go and sign you up for school.” You rose from your chair not really knowing what just happened.

The room was plain and had not much in it. A dresser a closet and a bed. It was good enough for you. You laid on the plush bed and fell into a coma like sleep immediately.

HEYY OKAY SO THIS IS PART ONE!

might make it into a short series...

TAGS

@unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt

If you want tagged in this series or any future series/stories then let me know via ask box

[lifeasitis21]

That’s Private

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader

Request: Henry x reader where they’re a couple and during an interview, questions get brought up of their sex life.

A/n: Thank you for the request anon! I hope this is close to what you were thinking. It was super fun to write!

Working on this movie with Henry had been like a dream come true, and there was never a moment when you wanted it to end.

Getting to work side by side with the love of your life every day seemed too good to be true, and it had its ups and downs but with Henry, it was mostly ups. You called it your ‘love child’ because the two of you spent countless hours brainstorming the entire project together. 

Henry was used to huge movie production sets and teams of thousands, but when you showed him part of the screenplay you wrote, he jumped on board right away. You worked well together, which was a bonus, of course. You had balance, it’s what he always called it. A balance of give and take, balance of creativity and realism, you just worked.

Along with acting beside him, you also got to direct with him. The two of you played a couple on screen, which came naturally for the most part. You thought the hardest part of it would be the amount of time you would spend together, but you were yet to tire of each other.

One thing you loved about him, was that he always took the time to reassure you without even being asked. On set, when you would worry about memorizing lines or coming off as genuine, he would walk you through every scene even into the early hours of the morning. And on days when that didn’t work, he would fuck you sleepy and hold you close to his chest until you drifted off to sleep.

Now that filming was over and the haze had begun to lift, you were faced with the reality of the press tour interviews.

Because it was a small movie, you only had a few interviews in place, regardless of the fact that reviews on the project had been everything you hoped for and more. One of the biggest you had coming up was The Tonight Show. It would be your first time doing something like this, Henry’s, not so much. He was amazing in front of a camera, obviously. But more than that, he had a presence about him that affected everyone in the room. 

You didn’t go on until 10:30 tonight but you’d been preparing all day. Henry’s agent arranged the schedule to where you wouldn’t have to be present at every interview, and today was Henry’s day for solo interviews. 

With only 3 hours until you had to leave for Fallon’s, he was due back any minute now though.

You had your outfit laid out on the bed of your hotel room. And like a good partner, you set out Henry’s suit as well. You stood in the bathroom with your robe wrapped around you. With a swipe of your hand, you cleared the fog from the mirror and started working on your makeup. You turned on your playlist as you did, mouthing along to the words of one of Henry’s favorite songs. 

You fondly remembered how he insisted on contributing to your morning playlist with some of his favorites that he made sure to refer to as ‘purely classic.’

Close to exhausted, Henry trudged through the door of your room and tossed his jacket on the couch in the lounge room. 

He began to call out to you, but then heard the muffled sounds of music coming from the bedroom.

A soft smile formed on his lips as he pictured you rolling your hips, singing along to your music. The longer he thought about it, something else also began to form.

He quietly walked into the bedroom, where he found the bathroom door cracked open, with steam still seeping out from your shower. Perfect timing.

To get a head start, he loosened his tie and threw it onto the bed. After kicking out of his shoes, he began unbuttoning his shirt, only leaving the last three for you to undo later. 

As he pushed open the door, he watched your eyes as they found his in the mirror. You smiled, and almost looked away, before noticing his bare chest under his shirt.

You kept your eyes on him as he walked up behind you. Slowly, he wrapped his hands around your waist, the tension pulling your towel down just above your chest.

“I missed you.” He whispered, lowering his lips down to the nape of your neck. He breathed out as he ran his tongue over your warm skin; the contact sending a tingle to your center.

He tug his hands down into your hips and pulled you back against himself. You could feel his length just below your ass and you loved how hard he was already. Just like he craved, you pushed and grinded back against him, causing him to tug a little more on the towel near your hips. As it fell to the floor, he took in the sight of your naked body. 

“We can’t be late Henry.” 

With one hand he gently pushed your chest down towards the counter and with the other he moved down towards your wetness and with agonizing patience, pushed two fingers inside of you.

“We wont be.”

Hand in hand, the two of you sat on stage, waiting for the countdown to the show to begin. Henry absentmindedly placed a kiss to the back of your hand, then smiled up at you when he noticed you watching him.

Off screen, the camera man began counting down so the two of you got situated. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the tonight show! We have some amazing guests with us tonight. Give a round of applause for Henry Cavill and Y/n Halloway!”

You smiled bright as the room erupted in applause. Beside you Henry gave a wave to the crowd, but then turned his attention to the host.

“We’re so happy to have you two.”

“Well we’re happy to be here. This is amazing!” You said, an over exaggerated amount of peppiness in your voice.

“It’s good to be back, thank you for having us.” Henry ran his hand over his thigh once, before placing his hands back where they were, something you noticed he did in almost every interview he gave.

By now, you had lost count and so had he. He was truly a pro at this part of the job. Every question asked, he answered with prose and excitement, always eliciting further conversation.

The questions ranged from filming process, to future projects, to anything in between. 

You had been doing much better than you thought you would. The whole thing was actually more fun than you expected, and 30 minutes in you’d fell into a flow with Henry. Completely in sync.

“The two of you play some, badass assassin lovebirds on screen. And we know--at least we hope you’re just a couple off-screen. Did this whole process bring anything out, into the--into the open?”

Henry smiled at the question after looking over and seeing the smile on your own face. 

“Do you mean negative things, or?” He asked.

“No! Nothing bad, I guess, did you learn anything about one another?”

“Henry is a very...energetic man.” Before you even had a moment to process your own words, the audience began to woop and applaud at the misunderstanding of what you really meant. As the host’s eyes went wide with laughter, you glanced over at Henry and barely held it together as he shot you that knowing smirk.

“Oh my god-- that is not-- what I meant by energetic is he is constantly on the go. Like, if it’s between sleep and work, he chooses work every time.” You barely made it through without another fit of laughter, but once you did, and the crowd settled, the host pulled you out of the hole you’d dug yourself.

“Right right. So nothing was ever quiet done. There was always something that Henry needed to be doing.”

“Exactly.” You responded with a smile. Now both you and the host looked to Henry, as if waiting for him to ask the question posed earlier. 

“What did I learn?” He asked himself, bringing his finger to his chin and narrowing his eyes at you. It brought a smile to your face, the way his eyes sparked when he looked at you.

“Y/n is, amazing at quiet literally everything she does.” That one made the crowd aww and brought a little heat to your cheeks as he kept his eyes on you. “She’s better than anyone I’ve ever known in every single way.”

Suddenly, the host burst out in laughter. “Woah now, Henry. That could mean a lot of things. What is it that she’s so much better at than everyone else? Do you mean what I think you mean?”

Everyone was completely engaged now if they hadn’t been before. But Henry was quick on his feet. He looked to for a moment, for approval, which you gave with a smile. 

“Yes? Yes. That’s exactly what I mean.” 

The host wasn’t sure how far he could push this, but you both seemed comfortable so he kept talking.

“I think it’s great you feel that way! No--really! It’s an important part of any relationship and as if you guys couldn’t of gotten anymore perfect, we now know you have an outstanding sex life.”

Henry laughed his heart warmingly big laugh and glanced over to you as he continued. “Well yeah, she really is amazing. It’s like--euphoric. Every time--like--” he was one beat away from continuing when he realized what he was about to say probably shouldn’t be said on television. “I’ll just--It’s important. It really is.”

He began looking back and forth between the two of you now, a mischievous look in his eye. “This is all sounding very--present tense..”

At that, Henry gave the floor to you, not wanting to go further than he already had and than you were comfortable with. But when he looked to you, whether you really meant to or not, you answered. “It is. It really is.”

Henry was exuberant beside you. Laughing and making eyes at you, all the while never coming off as fake or insincere. You’d never felt as safe and at home with someone as you did with him, which made this all feel okay. More than okay. It made it right.

That marked all the time you had left for the interview, and you genuinely believed that no one in that room wanted it to end. You said your goodbyes to the audience and let Henry lead you backstage by the hand. 

As soon as you were out of the public eye, he pulled you in close and brought your lips to his mouth. He held you there for a long time, and you let him, savoring the smell of his cologne, the feel of his hand holding your face.

“You’re my world.” He said, after releasing you. “My entire world.”

Tag List: @jaderbugz @a-girl-who-loves-disney @chillnadia @posiemax @samdean-67 @smexy-bucky-waifu  @maragaretcarter @supersleepyfangirlthings @shortstoryimagines @omg-fuck-i-love-you @peachlar @thebutterflyxx @tomhollambucky @loviee14 @ign-is @wisdombeyondher-years @maxtothemoff @avntsmay @princess-of-the-fandoms @marvelouslyme96 @witchywrter @marvelite1998 @manofsteel7712 @d0ntjudgemy50shades @henrycavillstalkingmustache

[nimbus-cloud]

Ken-Chan’s Fan Event!!!

I basically died and ascended so I’m writing this from beyond this world.

Have a peek under the Read More if you guys are interested in hearing about this fan event!  Unlike the Donut Conferences, I don’t think he’s making a DVD of this one.

OK so ken-chan's event was in this little basement cafe with like... 60 people max. Super close quarters, and I saw him and Hiroki and Justin closer than when we were second row at Takato's event. UGHHHHH HE'S SOOOOOO CUUUUUTE They all were, but obviously Ken-chan in particular.  Especially with his current longer hair, he looks especially boyish.  

At first he just like quietly appeared out of nowhere from the back and everyone was like wait, what? what?? lololol Then he made his way over to the "stage" area and took the microphone to say hi to us, make sure that we grabbed food from the buffet, etc...  He actually started the event with circling around the tables and taking photos with everyone (which I think took everyone by surprise because that's usually done last). So he took photos with everyone and was restricted to 20 seconds at each table to chat lol.  The staff kept him on-time otherwise I think he would’ve definitely gone over.

I told him it was my first time at one of his events, which made him happy and then he asked me how I got to know about him, so I said Engeki, and then I told him I came from America to watch it and to come to this event and he was happily surprised. He was gonna ask me another thing but time was up!  Not much anyone can say in 20 seconds if you’re trying for an actual conversation lol.

For the guest corner he kept giving us clues and I think we all knew who they'd be but everyone was shy so nobody spoke up to guess who. And then Justin and Hiroki came out and there was cheering and clapping~♡♡♡  (There’s a part of me that is deeply amused to have seen Hiroki twice in three days and both times at some other actor’s event where he was a ‘secret guest’ LOL.  For not going to an Ino Hiroki event, I’ve seen him quite a bit lately lol)  Instead of going to Ken-chan first, Hiroki decided to be a little shit (like always) and he went for the buffet table instead and Ken-chan was like, “Later!  You can eat later!”

Ahhhhhh seeing the three of them together like old times was sooo -clutches heart- And they were really happy about it too. Hiroki and Justin hung out just yesterday with Kage-chan to watch the World Cup, and Ken-chan knew about that but he doesn't know anything about soccer.  But he actually decided to watch some yesterday and thought Senegal's coach was really cool, and then he said the Japanese goalkeeper was cool and the other two were just like, “yeah.... no comment.”  I also don’t know anything about soccer, but my twitter timeline seems to have mixed feelings about the Japanese goalkeeper and I’m assuming Justin and Hiroki don’t really like him lol.   Justin had been a guest at a previous donut conference, and Hiroki has gone to one before, and he asked, “How is this any different from a donut conference?” Since this particular fan event is named differently and stuff lol.  But the whole theme of this one is to just “relax” so for example, there’s no Kenko appearance, and based on the DVDs I’ve seen, the donut conferences tend to be a little bit more elaborate in content.  More like Takato’s event that I saw probably.  But this one was meant to be smaller, more easygoing, more intimate.

If there was ever any doubt that the "Today's Third Years" videos were ken-chan's idea, no more reason to doubt lol. The other two were whining about being tired after Engeki performances but Ken-chan would always come up to them with, "So for today's theme!!"  Justin pointed out how much thought Ken-chan put into those themes all the time.  Hiroki apparently wasn't overly fond of the one where he was the boy catching bugs and Ken-chan was the cicada and Justin was the mantis. Which cracked me up because that's probably one of my favorites and also Hiroki arguably got the best part since he wasn't a bug lol  But Hiroki likes to complain tho lol. And still he admitted that because Ken-chan was always so excited about them he'd get into them too, and Justin agreed to that.

Keeping with the Engeki stories: Apparently one time in the dressing rooms, Justin's personal makeup mirror was missing, but his and only his, and he was confused and wondering, “...are they telling me not to wear makeup??” And Ken-chan said, “You could just go on stage without makeup, you look good enough to not need it.” But Justin replied, "Ok but like, Asahi is Japanese. And I have this foreigner face. And I have to try and make my eyes look smaller." So then Ken-chan asked the crowd, “Who does their make-up in the mornings and tries to make their eyes look smaller?”  Obviously nobody raised their hand and Justin answered, “Pretty sure it’s just me.  Just me.”  

English became a topic at one point and Justin admitted he's stopped taking English lessons because he’s gotten too busy to go. That and, "I also realized I could just practice by talking to my family." And Hiroki was like YOU SHOULD'VE REALIZED THAT FROM THE START!  Hiroki also wanted to brush up so he recently bought a textbook for self-study, but he said it was too hard.  Lots of unknown vocabulary. Then Ken-chan said he actually remembers the first English word he ever learned, which was "sacrifice" and the others were like WHAT A WEIRD FIRST WORD??? But it's because a friend of his from grade school used it kind of weirdly and after he asked the teacher what it meant, he realized better what his friend was talking about, thought it was profound and then remembered it forever.

Hiroki was like, "I kind of understand how you could be friends.  He sounds weird like you." Actually Justin and Hiroki called Ken-chan "weird" a number of times lol, like it's his defining feature or something. That and he texts them in their three-person group chat like a “girlfriend.”

He’ll send them selfies and go, "Here's today's Akisawa Kentarou!" and Hiroki is always like dude, what? Or out of nowhere he’ll tell them, "It's cold out so take care and don't catch a cold ok!" And Justin was like, “It's kind of like having a girlfriend.”

For a little question corner someone wanted Justin and Hiroki to say something they liked about Ken-chan and also one thing they disliked. Justin loves ken-chan's bright and warm personality. He feels like Ken-chan gives him extra energy and strength and that he always gets caught up in Ken-chan’s pace.   Hiroki loves that when it comes to Ken-chan he can really feel like he cares for each individual in their own unique way.  Like Ken-chan is mindful of different people and holds a different kind of love for everyone. WHICH I THOUGHT WAS KIND OF DEEP I DUNNO I GOT EMOTIONAL.  Justin agreed and Ken-chan said how happy he was to hear that.  

Another question was, if the three of them could appear together in a play again, what kind of roles would Ken-chan imagine for everyone?  And honestly it got kind of weird and convoluted, but he assigned Justin to be a monk, and for Hiroki to be someone completely plain and normal.  Because Hiroki’s done a lot of different types of roles as an actor and since his normal personality is kind of out there, he thought it would be a challenge for Hiroki to be as plain and as normal as possible.  And Ken-chan himself would be like... the bad guy running an evil organization, but then he found religion and converted... but it was a trick... it got weird.  Justin was nodding his head and kind of getting into it, but Hiroki’s face just kept getting more and more confused LOL.  And at the end he was just like, “What is this?!  This would definitely have a bad ending!”  ( 絶対バッドエンド！) Justin just went, “Yeah this just all reminded me of how amazing Ken-chan is.  He just comes up with stuff like this.”  Hiroki was just giving these super doubtful looks, oh my god, he looked so funny honestly.  

When the guest corner wrapped up and Ken-chan said goodbye to them, he tried to kiss Hiroki’s hand as he shook it, and Hiroki was just giving him the funniest stink-eye for the next two whole minutes as he slowly, slowly backed off from the stage area lololol.  (Again, HIROKI IT’S NOT LIKE YOU DON’T TRY TO SNEAK SMOOCHES FROM PEOPLE, I JUST SAW YOU TRY TO SMOOCH TAKATO TWO NIGHTS AGO; HE’S SUCH A LITTLE SHIT I LOVE HIM).

After that, Ken-chan treated us to a song, and my heart was soaring because I love his singing, and he picked such a sweet song with sweet lyrics, and UGH.  I need to see him live in a musical someday.  He was all nervous before he started too, saying that he was bad at singing and everyone in the room just VEHEMENTLY shook their heads like WHAT ARE YOU EVEN TALKING ABOUT?!?!  But the space was small and he wasn’t on an elevated stage at all, so I’m sure the intimacy of the setting made it a little more nerve-wracking singing a solo song in front of 60 people.  

Then for his good-bye message he thanked us all for supporting him and for making events like this possible.  He even gestured to me where I was sitting and said, “Even coming all the way from America!  She’s here from America, everyone!” and the other girls did the “Ehhh???” thing at me and OMG I just kind of bowed meekly.  But then another girl in the front raised her hand and said she was from China studying abroad, and Ken-chan was all, “I’m global!  Global Kentarou!”

Then for the send-off, he would shake our hands and try to spend at least another 20 seconds talking to each of us as he gave us our individual good-byes.  If you ordered his donut conference DVD, there was the option to have him give you your copy at the end of the event, so obviously I did that lol.

He also prepared these little handwritten cards for everyone with small felt roses attached, so I now have a handwritten card from Ken-chan~

When it was my turn, he took my hands and shook them and thanked me for coming all the way from America to see him.  He asked me how long the trip takes, and I told him that from Seattle to Narita is about a 10-hr flight, and he was like, “That’s so far!”   And then I showed him the donut earrings I wore for his event, and he poked one gently and pointed them out to his friend who was assisting at the event (It was Shouma, who helps him at every event I think) and was just like, “Look at her donut earrings!  They’re so cute!”  And then he complimented my Japanese, wished me a safe trip home, and held my hands again (how do I ever wash these hands again?) and said, “Have a nice day!!” and I dunno.  My heart just like... melted.  Also my gift for him this time was a black shirt that has “have a nice day” embroidered on it so it was also a bit... not deja vu, but ANYWAYS.  I’m so proud of myself for not tripping up the stairs as I left because oh my god the euphoriaaaaa~

My photo with him is going to be one of my most prized possessions forever probably.  

----

Oh!  Also the three of them made a video after the event (x) but since Ken-chan and Hiroki are “graduated” from being Karasuno third-years, it’s not titled the usual “Today’s Third-Years.”  Now it’s “Today’s Adults... or wannabe adults anyway” 

[ours-is-feral-love]

sleep now

A/N: Typical Darcy/Bucky nonsense. Enjoy.

Summary: She finds him asleep in her bed.

She is exhausted when she finally reaches her apartment door. The meeting was meant to go until five, but of course it actually went until ten, because their client's family doesn't trust that she--a perfectly capable woman with the same law degree as her partner and a higher LSAT score--can get the case dismissed. She even started wearing more conservative clothes to their meetings in case it was the slight dip of her cleavage she allowed to be seen that was the thing bothering them, but they still refused to listen to her. Misogynistic assholes--even the mom, which stings Darcy the most.

So, she is tired, frustrated, and out $100 dollars thanks to yesterday's shopping spree. All she wants is to strip off this damned dress and climb into her bed.

Unlocking and opening the door, Darcy is immediately on alert as she steps inside the apartment. The lamp beside the sofa is on. She didn't leave it on. That's one of her things, saving electricity. She'll oftentimes sit in the pitch black just to applaud herself for not contributing to the pollution the earth's atmosphere via power plants.

Why is this light on, then? With her heart pounding, Darcy quietly toes off her heels and closes the door behind her with the softest click. Her apartment is silent. She stands between her kitchen and her living room listening for any sound, but none reach her. The first thought that assaults her is that the remnants of HYDRA found out her secret. He swore they wouldn't, but this is HYDRA, and even she knows they aren't to be doubted. Her second thought is that she simply left the light on. But she wouldn't do that, so obviously the former is correct and any second now a gunslinging assassin is going to burst from concealment to murder her.

Or maybe they'll just kidnap her. Use her to lure him out of hiding. Then, when he inevitably comes rushing in to save her with no plan, they'll kill her in front of him and then torture and kill him.

Darcy takes in a shuddering breath. Her lungs are tight. She steps further into the apartment, seeing for the first time that her bedroom door is ajar. He would kill her if he knew that she was about to walk inside a room that potentially housed a HYDRA agent waiting for her. But if there is a HYDRA agent waiting in there for her, then he won't actually have to kill her, because she'll already be dead.

Her steps are light as she approaches the room, skin vibrating. Pushing the door wider, it creaks and she halts, waiting for the gunfire to start. But it doesn't, so she continues on with her stupidity and enters the room with no plan, no weapon, and no regard for her own wellbeing.

There is somebody sleeping in her bed. They are curled into a crescent shape, their face half-buried under the covers.

Relief floods Darcy. Then confusion joins the party. Reaching the bed, she sits on the mattress and reaches out to pull the duvet down, revealing his face inch by inch. He is sound asleep. The lines of his forehead are smoothed. He isn't snarling, or frowning. But there are deep claw marks down the side of his face. They reach his neck, his shoulder. They are fresh and raw. Her white sheets are lightly stained with blood.

With fear returning, Darcy shakes him hard. "Bucky," she says, ignoring his groans, "Bucky wake up. Now."

His blue eyes slip open. "Darcy?" he says.

"Who were you expecting? This is my apartment."

He sits up--well, he tries. Darcy has to help him. "I was expecting you," he says, "five hours ago."

Right. The never-ending meeting.

Concern for the soldier dripping sweat and blood in her bed washes away her annoyance. "What happened?" She strokes the uninjured side of his face, her knuckles grazing the sharp stubble.

His non-metal hand encircles her wrist. He looks pleadingly into her eyes. "I'm sorry about the mess," he says.

"Just tell me what happened. Why aren't you with Steve?"

"Solo mission. Steve's off in Europe with Sam. I didn't know where else to go."

Only her boyfriend would apologise for coming to her.

She smiles at him, her insides tingling when his warm mouth presses against her palm.

Retracting her arm, she slides off the bed. "I'll grab some things to clean you up. Are you feeling okay?"

"I've had worse," he says.

Oh, she knows. She turns for the bathroom, pushing memories of seeing him at the Avengers' facility with bandages wrapped around almost his entire body. He had to stay in the hospital for weeks. And that was right after they started seeing each other, when the boundaries between friend and lover were confusing and blurred and she didn't know what to do.

She returns to the bed with gauze and butterfly bandages and ointment and immediately starts patching him up. He sits silently while she works, and when she is done he looks like a badly done up mummy, a sight which she can't help but laugh at.

"You should've gone to a real doctor," she says, pointing to his reflection in the full length mirror hanging on the closet door.

"It looks fine," he says, lying back down and pulling her with him. He scans her body. "Is this a new dress?"

"Yeah," she says with an eye roll. "But I think I'll return it. I only bought it for this specific client, and it didn't work."

"How do you mean?" he asks, his voice thick with sleepiness.

Darcy turns on her side and resumes stroking his face. She hasn't seen him in nearly a month, and this surprise visit reminds her just how much she misses him when he's gone.

He smiles up at her, his eyelids dripping. "What?"

She shakes her head. Securing her mouth over his, she says, "Nothing. Go to sleep. You need the rest."

Normally he would complain, but whatever happened earlier must have wiped him because as soon as she says the words, his eyes close and his breathing evens out.

Darcy watches him carefully. People are still afraid of him. There was a survey in the news that announced almost fifty percent of New Yorkers still thought he was evil. Even after all he did in the fight against the giant purple grape.

She is so angry at those people.

"Hey." Darcy startles. Bucky's eyelids crack. "You should sleep too," he suggests.

"Fine," she grumbles, stripping out of her uncomfortable dress and snuggling underneath the covers.

Bucky holds her to him. She drapes an arm over his chest. And they sleep like that, entwined, linked, until the jealous sun rises, blinding them with his light.

[apriki]

WARS OF THE STARS

So ya homegirl finally saw the last jedi and oh, there are THOUGHTS to be HAD below the cut for spoiler purposes but guys. GUYS.

I LOVED IT

I LOVED IT 

IT WAS WEIRD AND AMBITIOUS AND OVERTHREW THE CONVENTIONS OF THE STAR WARS UNIVERSE IN A WAY FORCE AWAKENS SPECIFICALLY DIDN’T AND I LOOOVVVED IT

when luke threw the lightsaber over his shoulder at the very start i was like OHHHHH YES BITCH...... ITS FUCKIN ON

‘this isn’t going to go how you think’ INDEED

my heart siezed when i saw leia ugh.... and this film treated her with the gravitas she deserved and i loved that 

POE IS A COCKY FLYBOY BUT OKAY THE HUX SCENE WAS LEGITIMATELY FUNNY and domhnall gleeson is having THE MOST FUN 

ROSE’S SISTERRR and i feel like this film took pains to show a more diverse range of people in the resistance and also in the background on the star destroyers? and i really loved that

snoke’s red room of pain lmaoooooooooo. and his mara jade bodyguards

snoke forcing kylo to take his helmet off because he knows kylo needs it to disconnect shut the fuck up

kylo tantrum™ and him wrecking the mask because snoke shattered its meaning to him but also YOU DON’T GET TO WEAR THE MASK IN THIS MOVIE, KYLO. A BITCH IS GONNA BE OUT HERE VULNERABLE AS FUCK

the timeline of this movie was... odd? i feel like we were meant to think rey was with luke for weeks but the rebellion plot was suuuuuper super fast. i employed some mental time dilation to make sense of it lmao

KYLO NOT BEING ABLE TO TAKE THE SHOT AND KILL LEIA

EMO SON LOVES HIS MOM 2K17

holy SHIT i really thought they were going to kill leia off 20 MINUTES IN for a hot minute there

but then she FORCED HER WAY BACK INTO THE SHIP? SUCK ON THAT DUDEBROS WHO SAID SHE WASN’T STRONG WITH THE FORCE LIKE DIE

SPACE LAURA DERN

We Need To Talk About Rey And Kylo’s Sense8 Plot

THAT FIRST SCENE WHERE SHE DIDN’T HESITATE, BITCH

and he FELT IT. HE FELT THAT BLASTER

THEIR FACES when they force felt each other what the guuud FUCK

kylo: you will lead me to skywalker

rey: i think the fuck not

‘i don’t see where you are... only you’

BI.......TCH

THE REST OF THE WORLD FADED AWAY AND THEY WERE STUCK WITH ONE ANOTHER

luke’s sad hermit routine lmfao

luke: the jedi weren’t shit really

me: absolutely fair and true

when rey was like ‘please take this lightsaber and all the responsibility that comes with it’ and luke was like ‘this bitch empty YEET’

porgs are whatever. i wouldve eaten that one on the stick lmao chewbacca is a softie

am i the only one who like doesn’t remember the millenium falcon’s dice in the mirror lmao

sidenote like, adam driver’s voice. right? right?

KYLO CALLING HIMSELF A MONSTER WAS WHAT MADE REY START TO BELIEVE HE WASN’T? WHAT KIND OF BYRONIC NONSENSE......

‘i’d really rather not do this right now’ / ‘yeah me either’

I CACKLED. 

THESE TWO SHIT KIDS WITH A SENSE8 CONNECTION THEY DON’T WANT DROPPING IN ON EACH OTHER’S NARRATIVES

I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS MOVIE IS REAL.

i heard that kylo ren had a sixpack. that kylo ren is shredded

DON’T YOU HAVE LIKE, A COWL OR SOMETHING?????????????????????

MAZ KANATA IS LIVING HER OWN ACTION FILM SHE DOESN’T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR BULLSHIT

loved the casino world that was so obviously based on monaco and dipping into the muddy waters of arms dealing and showing how deep the fight between tyranny and freedom runs in the galaxy. it can get quite baroque with the skywalkers and their drama and i felt like it was a smart smart move to have finn team up with rose to see how exploitation and cruelty don’t always have to be in the form of sith lords or first orders

this movie is so busy dismantling the ideas of heroes and villains. it’s just people making choices and that’s the point and it’s TRRRUUUUUUE

benicio del toro is the new era boba fett and i love HE

poe getting SLAPPED and BLASTERED like multiple times lmaoooooooo like i like him well enough but bitch listen to your betters!

i kind of loved that finn and rose went off on this grand plan to save the resistance and it.... didn’t work. like everything they kept trying just DID NOT WORK but there was still hope at the end? friends it was beautiful

YOU’RE NOT ALONE

KYLO SLIDING OUT INTO THE CORRIDOR IS UHHHHHH THE STRAIGHT UP BEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN

HE’S A SIXTEEN YEAR OLD LINKIN PARK FANATIC AND I LOVE

rey in the rain

the first time she’s ever felt it?

and then the world goes QUIET AGAIN

WHAT KIND OF WOLFGANG AND KALA BULL SHIT

and okay the end of this scene where kylo pulls his hand away

AND WIPES OFF

THE RAIN

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

CANNOT

I CANNOT.

WHAT IS THIS AGE OF INNOCENCE FUCKING BUFFONERY SCREAAAMM

‘did he tell you what happened?’

and like, kylo could just say it himself

but he knows rey wouldn’t believe him 

and luke fucking LIED

‘THAT SKYWALKER BLOOD’

me two years ago: what’s an adam driver

me now: (laughing nervously) what the f

‘why does the force keep connecting us?’ BITCH ME TOO LMFAO 

the way the world STOPS ALL AROUND THEM

oh my god the flashbacks

like i feel like we got more than enough of this alluded to in force awakens but some people need it in black and white i guess and HERE THE FUCK IT IS

‘and the last thing i saw were the eyes of a frightened boy whose master had failed him’

and okay WOW @ ME EVERY SINGLE PERSON WHO HAS CONTINUALLY SAID HAN, LEIA AND LUKE DIDN’T FAIL KYLOHE LITERALLY TRIED TO MURDER HIM

look.

i am the most stoic bitch in a movie theatre. like shit does not phase me but i fucking teared UP my face just CRUMPLED LIKE UGHHHHH

AND ADAM’S DRIVER’S STUPID FUCKING FACE AND HIS DUMB EYES

HIS PARENTS SENT HIM AWAY BECAUSE THEY WERE AFRAID OF HIM AND HIS UNCLE TRIED TO FUCKING MURDER HIM

‘YOU WERE WRONG TO THINK HIS HEART HAD DECIDED!’

and THIS is what’s at the heart of the last jedi - dismantling the myth of the hero. there are no heroes, only people, and luke is the embodiment of thatto rey he’s a myth but to kylo he was a man and that’s how he stumbled but he stumbled because he believed his OWN myth i’m just..... dying slowly

THEIR HANDS TOUCHING

THEIR FINGERS

FUCK OFF

THE ELECTRICITY

I FEEL THE CONFLICT IN HIM

REY CRYING AND KYLO TEARING UP

GOODBYE BITCHES I’M FUCKIN OUTTA HEEEYYYYA

rey: i saw you at my side

kylo: well i saw YOU at MY side

me: fellas,

REY BLASTING OFF RIGHT INTO THE HEART OF THE ENEMY CAUSE SHE BELIEVES SHE CAN SAVE BEN’S SOUL

REY GOING INTO THE DARKNESS AND NOT BEING AFRAID

AND TRYING TO SEE HER PARENTS BUT ONLY SEEING HERSELF

snoke claiming that he mainpulated rey and kylo looks up in FURY because he realises he was manipulating him too

LIKE HE ALWAYS KNEW

BUT HERE IT IS IN BLACK AND WHITE

his fingers twitching 

the saber moving

me in my seat: boy he bout to DO IT

AND KILLS

HIS

TRUE

ENEMY

i SCREAMED

well i didn’t scream because i was in a theatre but i screamed on the inside. i would watch kylo or ANY character kill every person who ever manipulated abused used them and HOW oh my GOD 

HE COULDN’T KILL REY AND HE KILLED SNOKE INSTEAD.

HE COULDN’T KILL LEIA AND HE COULDN’T KILL REY

JUST A BOY IN A MASK

THE EYES OF A FRIGHTENED BOY

like he just wants someone to to TRUST and they all keep FAILING for all his talk to rey of her constantly looking for parental figures like all he fucking wants is to belong to something??

it’s whatever.

like i can but i also can’t believe we actually got this character so shaped and formed by abuse and manipulation KILLING HIS ABUSER. like KNEELING IN FRONT OF SNOKE and being beaten down and down and FINDING THE STRENGTH TO KILL HIM ANYWAY

the conflict of this series is happening in the galaxy but it’s also happening in ben solo’s heart and that’s just about enough for me to mcFREAKING lose it

THE WAY REY CONSISTENTLY CALLS HIM BEN.’

BEN. BENJY. BENJO BOY

REY AND KYLO FIGHTING

BACK TO BACK

BACK! TO BACK!

REY WITH THE CROSSGUARD SABER KYLO WITH ANAKIN’S SABER

KILLING THOSE RED DUDES MAYBE THE KNIGHTS OF REN? THE SLOW MO

FIGHTING TOGETHER................. 

POETRY

I DIED

I FUCKING STRAIGHT UP ASCENDED

REY CALLING HIM BEN AND HIM FLINCHING

EVERY

SINGLE

TIME

‘you’re nothing to the story - but not to me’

LOOK,

LISTEN,

I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS MOVIE IS REEEEAAALLLL

when kylo asked rey to join him i swear to god i heard the opening synth of carly rae jepsen’s ‘run away with me’

FORCE FIGHTING FOR THE SABER

DARKNESS AND LIGHT TO MEET IT

BUT ALSO DARKNESS IN HER AND LIGHT IN HIM

THE BALANCE

THE BALANCE!!

THEY’RE EQUALS THEY’RE SO EQUAL THEY FUCKING

TORE

THE SABER

APART

i seriously thought this was going to be the film’s climax but there was like 40 more minutes after this ksadjfkdsfj

LAURA DERN AND LEIA wow that was some BUSINESS 

and leia explaining to poe about doing the right thing vs. looking like a hero MY GOD this film is on another level. how the fuck did it both take star wars to town over like its most fundamental conventions but still feel true to the series and respectful and genuine? I AM... AGOG

LAURA FUCKING DERN LIGHTSPEEDING INTO A SPEED DESTROYER HOLLLLYY SHIT

and the no sound CRACKING APART of the cruiser the LIGHT 

this movie was shot so beautifully thanks disneymarvelfox conglomerate

honestly i’m still astounded that a film so rooted in nostalgia, nearly dependent on it in a way, firmly and deeply embedded a ‘let the past die’ moral through its narrative. LIKE, WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF BLOCKBUSTER???????? but i loved it, i loved that luke and kylo were both so determined to bury the past and rey was equally determined to dig it up. because how can you have balance without it? 

the whole hoth version 2 snow planet was beautiful and the BURGUNDIES the contrast i love an aesthetic!

(tastes red substance hesitantly) ‘Salt.’

i want a crystal wolf

LMFAO YODA JUST BEING A FUCKING TROLL WHAT THE HELL

they couldn’t phone ewan mcgregor for a yung hot jesus obi wan cameo? i’d be into it

LUKE’S FOOT NOT SHOWING A RED PRINT THAT’S WHEN I KNEW HE WASN’T THERE

kylo: .........i’ll destroy the girl

luke: no you wont

kylo: yeah no i wont u right u right

LUKE AND LEIA OH MY GODDDD the GRAVITAS of mark and carrie!!! it was so beautiful

when kylo gave an order and hux repeated it super loud and kylo GAVE HIM THE WILDEST SIDE EYE I FUCKING CHOOOOKEKEKKEKEKED

i’m glad somewhere along the way they realised hux is like the biggest joke character lmfao

bye phasma

finn’s storyline really god sidelined this movie huh? i loved rose a LOT and i loved them together but did we need the poe plot like really

all the scenes with the og trio have been so layered and beautiful you can 

though i thought luke died in the fire and it was his force ghost not him like force astral projecting lmao

LUKE WALKING OUT OF THE RED SMOKE FROM THE GUNFIRE DDDAMMMMNN

‘do you think you got him????????’ KDBFKSHDFKHDS

ooof that final confrontation scene though

damn right you should apologise luke lmfao

SEE YA, KID

kylo’s anger in the last third is just wooooof like he thinks he can destroy every person and every remnant that rejected him but he’s just running on his own anger until he realises luke isn’t really there and there’s nothing else for him to fight

OOOOF

THE BINARY SUNSET

that GOT me i was verklempt

rey and poe meeting was cute

i hope they’re not setting up a love triangle cause like that shit is tiiirrreeeedddd

i like finn and rey and also finn and rose like im happy to go down whatever road they take

THAT FINAL SCENE

SNOKE WAS WAY FUCKING DEAD BUT THEY WERE

STILL

CONNECTED

HIM BENEATH HER ABOVE

YES BITCH LOOK AT EACH OTHER

and shutting the door but like the FALCON

I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S GONNA BE TWO MORE YEARS

is the fucking novelization out yet?

or the script?

i want to swim in this movie god stay tuned as my thoughts #develop and #grow

[peaches-of-1]

Demon AU: 666 So Fresh- Chapter 1

I have tried to tag everything I think should be tagged. If there’s something else that you’d like me to tag, anything, please let me know. If you want more warning tags here at the beginning as well, please let me know. The last thing I wanna do is trigger trauma for anyone.

Warnings: Attempted rape, attempted suicides (by a member), violent scene descriptions

Type: Angst, fluff, romance

Taehyung (V), Yoongi (Suga), OC Zula

Summary: College sophomore Zula is a demon. Yoongi is a Demon. Taehyung is a demon. Well, sort of. Two of them are half demon and have gotten into some deep trouble recently. This trouble helped them to find each other and more importantly, their freedom from human confines. What will they do with this freedom? Read and find out. Bonus points if you get the reference, aka the basis for this story.

Zula knew she should have just stayed home. This was her first time at a frat party, and everything sucked. If only her roommate wasn’t fucking in their dorm right now. She decided to sit on the porch in her short tennis skirt and a crop top with The Beatles on it to catch her breath.

“Want a sip?” A familiar voice asked her.

Zula looked up and it was one of the frat brothers who offered her a red solo cup filled with something strong in smell and blue in color.

“No thanks, Jungkook. I don’t like to drink. Dulls the senses too much.” She turned her attention back to the campus scenery.

He sat next to her, “Your loss.” He drank the liquid and then looked at her. “I see you around campus all the time, but you mostly keep to yourself, don’t you?”

Zula nodded in reply. “If I were a brand, I’d be the Anti Social Social Club.”

Jungkook laughed, “You’re such a girl next door, but like, with an edgelord twist. I like it.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled.

Jungkook was called away and some Frat Bro took his place talking to Zula. She wasn’t interested. He was a joke of a human. Laughable.

“What are you into?” He asked, drinking out of a green bottle.

She tapped her daggers-shaped earrings, “Knives. I think they’re cool.”

He started talking about his knife collection. “I live here at the house, so we can go up to my room if you wanna see them.”

Zula said she would go up to see the knives and nothing more. He put his arms up in mock surrender and promised it would only be for the knives.

Yoongi knew he shouldn’t have used his powers in public especially when his targets were also demons. He had just shown his horns for intimidation. Either way, it didn’t work and now he was being chased by humans and demons that looked like humans.

It was just his wallet this time. They were stronger Spawn than him, so he ran. He had to lose these guys. Yoongi bolted down the new pathway only to be blocked by a wall, so he turned around. They were already there. Fuck this shit.

Yoongi just laughed as an inhuman hand grabbed his collar and another punched him. Survival instincts kicked in, and his Demon form came out. The others couldn’t keep their human forms either and revealed their true selves in their scaled glory. The actual humans ran away screaming at the sight, hoping to blame it on the alcohol come morning.

“Run, run, fast as you can!” Yoongi giggled until he passed out from pain.

Taehyung’s fascination with death had always been. Not all death. His death. Ever since he was young, people always called him a sick freak because of all his attempts and now refused to help him. Maybe if they hadn’t written off his terrorizing of girls as liking them, he would have gotten help. He would have been normal now, not this laughable shell of a human.

He sighed. Welp, it was too late for that. Time for death. What would be today’s method? He looked at the options before him.

He’d suffocate by putting a plastic bag over his head. Yeah, that seemed cool. He used tape to secure it to his throat. This version of death felt so cool. This version of leaving this planet. And yet like every time before, it wouldn’t come. Taehyung was forced into this place that acted as a sort of in between, it was like–

Ripping the bag open, he returned to the world of the living. Well, another attempt failed. He sighed and used his dead mother’s lipstick to make a mark on the horizontal mirror on the wall. There were hundreds of marks in different shades of red and orange that had accumulated over the years.

“I’ll go for a walk.” He said to himself. Maybe if he got out, the world would finally crush him.

Frat Bro took the knives out of the closet, and she ran her fingers over their curves. Noted the colors. He placed his hands on her hips.

“So, is it sexual?” He pressed himself against her back. “Your knife thing. Does it get you off? If that’s what you’re into, we can do that.”

She furrowed her brows, “I’m not. No! Get off of me!” He caught her arms as she turned and tried to push him away. “I said I just came for the fucking knives, I’m not the type of girl you want.”

Her body twisted as she tried to get free. His hands slid over her sides.

A dirty smile on his lips, “I just have to have you, though.”

“I said, NO!” Her whole body felt ripped apart. She blacked out. The music covered the screams, so no one bothered to intrude.

Yoongi woke up alone and in pain around dusk. Had he spent the day passed out in an alleyway? Hell Spawn healed quickly, so a good stretch, and he was good to go.

He thought it’d be the usual routine. Sneaking into bars. Stealing stuff. Drinking. However, when he got to the bar, the devil in him got a bit too excited and wouldn’t be satisfied with a wallet or two.

Not tonight. He needed a ride. Which idiots left their keys out in the open? Two chicks at the bar, dressed up in sequins and smelling like an entire bath bomb. Bingo. He acted rowdy and threw both arms over them.

“Ey, pretty ladies, which one of you wants a good time with me?”

The two shoved him off, “We’re girlfriends, asshole!”

“Sorry, sorry, my bad. Cute couple!” He backed away after grabbing their keys and heading to the parking deck to see which ride they belonged to.

Zula woke up and looked at her throbbing and wet hands. Why were they red? Blood. The walls were covered with it. The floor was dyed with its hue. Oh fuck oh fuck. There’s no way she could have done all of this. Zula tried to clean up the mess. She wasn’t strong enough to do this on her own.

So, Zula grabbed one of his zip up hoodies, put it on, and ran. She always had a bunch of stamina, so she ran for a while. She had to get away, far away from this place. The more distance there was, the less they’d suspect it was her. Walking was better for thinking though, so she slowed her pace.

What happened? What would she tell the cops if she was found out? The truth: He tried to rape her. Lured her to his room with the promise of knives. Didn’t he deserve sex then for showing her something she liked? No, no, that’s not how it worked. People don’t deserve sex for being nice. Besides, she only went with him because he said he wouldn’t try anything.

Wait, where was she? Didn’t matter. Wherever she was, it was awful quiet for a Friday night. She was trembling so much that she couldn’t feel her legs.

She looked at herself in a shop window. Her eyes looked more reptilian, more gold than their regular hazel. Not possible. It was just Zula’s brain freaking out. She was just in shock. Obviously. That’s all it was.

The girl stopped in the middle of the road and looked at headlights. There was also a face. It wondered what the hell was she doing. It was the first human she had seen in a while.

The owner of the face opened the door and called out to her, “Are you gonna stand there all night, or ya gonna hop in?”

Nodding, Zula got in the car and the two drove off. She was waiting for his questions. He surely had to have a few. She was a mess, but he looked sort of messy too. Now she had questions, but no one said anything. He just handed her a beach towel that was left in the back seat.

After a quick glance, she took the towel and wiped her hands of the still wet blood. Why was he acting so ok about this? Zula was about to ask when a figure stepped in front of their car.

Taehyung wandered empty streets. Bright headlights caught the corner of his eye. A car. He’d never tried that before.

Tae smirked and stepped out in front of it. The gravel sharp against his skin as he tumbled across the road. Maybe a few broken bones if he was lucky. A new sensation. This was the most he’d felt in a while.

Someone grabbed the front of his shirt and was screaming something.

“What the hell was that, dude? What sort of demon just walks in the middle of the road in front of a car like that?” Yoongi yelled, pushing his face into the road.

Demon?

“Demon?” It seemed like the girl he was with was trying to hold him back, but he pushed her away.

“Yeah, Demon. You’re one. I’m one. He’s and idiot, but he’s a demon too.” He spoke as if it was obvious. “Why else would I have let a person looking like you in anywhere near me? You’re covered in blood, for Lucifer’s sake!”

“Demon’s don’t exist, you crack pipe!” She screamed.

A deep voice filled with glee spoke, “Am I really a demon? How would you even know if I was or not?”

Yoongi looked at the stranger in his grasp, “Your eyes are a dead give away. Not to mention you’re Hiding yourselves right now.”

Zula spoke. So it wasn’t just her mind playing tricks on her, “My...my eyes? What do you mean Hiding?”

He looked at her then back at the man who was smiling and bleeding, “Are...are you serious? You really, you guys really don’t know what you are?”

“Hopeless.” V chuckled.

“A sophomore in college who is way in over her head!” She paced in the middle of the street and put her hands on her face.

Yoongi stood and put his hands on his head, “Oh my Hell. Just get back in the car. We’re taking him with us. I can’t have two demons who don’t know they’re demons acting crazy and outing us like this.”

Zula did as told while the first stranger lifted the crazy stranger over his shoulder and put him in the back seat of the car. He was crazy attractive too. He didn’t say anything more, just sort of watched. Yoongi got back into the driver’s seat.

“What year where you guys born?”

“1995″ He said.

“1998″ She said.

Yoongi nodded, “That explains it. From ‘95 until 2000, there was a spike in Spawn who fraternized with humans. You guys are Demi-Spawn. Like Hell Spawn, aka Demons, but half.”

Neither believed what they were hearing. It explained so much about them. According to the strange man, going through times of high emotion would activate a Demi-Spawn’s powers which depended on where their parent came from.

Zula spoke up, “So, one of my parents came from Hell?”

“Right.”

“And I killed a guy using demon powers? My demon powers.”

“Yeah. If you don’t mind me asking, what was he doing that made you wanna kill him?”

She swallowed and folded her arms, “He tried to rape me.”

“Lust, thought so. The highly negative but sexual encounter awakened you.” Yoongi’s eyes flickered to the back seat. “As for you, your mom or pop is probably from Wrath.”

“And you?” Taehyung asked.

“Greed.”

V spoke up, scratching the lower part of his mullet, “So, should we tell each other our names or something?”

“No, no names. Once we get to the middle of nowhere, you're gone. I can't--”

“Please.” The husky voice said. “Let’s stay together. I’ve been searching for this all of my life. You can’t just drop us.”

Yoongi set his jaw, “We’ll see.”

They drove all night in silence. Yoongi looked at them. Unlike him, those two needed sleep. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they stuck together.

Mstrlst | Next ->

[hotgirlinahotcar]

🤘🏿 + freakytits

send me 🤘🏿+ a ship and I’ll put my ipod on shuffle, first 5 songs + and I’ll tell you…

@governingmouse​

notes:   I had this ridiculous idea that I couldn’t shake… so I did my thing and just full force cracked it the fuck wide open… // I did the shuffle first 10 songs thing and wrote up the list, but after that I took my time replying to these. // character name links are fake for formatting reasons

and in the anything else category we have…-¦- IRON FUCKING MAIDENS -¦-   The one and only   -¦- freakytits -¦-   heavy metal coverband! {yeah, I went there… so far down the rabbit hole i even slammed together a quick gif for ya…}-¦- joan -¦-  obviously, is the lead singer as well as drummer. Lead status notwithstanding, -¦- vera -¦- gets main vocals on their songs almost equally as often. Aside from that, she also plays the keyboard and all the epic guitar solos. (When -¦- fridget -¦- tag along, they’re in charge of bitches & beer merch & groupies.)

their fav lyrics from them

when/where/how they discovered the songs

who/what they remind them of and/or why else they resonate with them

anything else that might be pertinent

Amorphis - Shatters Within-¦- vera -¦-   »   Once I was there   »   Standing outside   »   Looking in   »   Beside my window   »   Smiling face, shattering-¦- joan -¦-   »   And I turn my back to the world   »   Well I don’t care   »   What can I say if I see you all as deadThey played at the same festival/event as Amorphis at some point and caught that song while they were going to the stage for their own set.-¦- vera -¦-    has two very distinct memory-strings that flash before her eyes when she listens to it. For one there were all those times during her childhood and adolescence that more or less played out the same, when a happy moment on the front porch was ruined by her mother who’d been spying on her. Every time something evokes their entire life from her earliest recollections up to her mother’s death, be it song, movie or conversation, Vera gets so emotional that she’s almost glad this song also brings up all the times she was passed over for promotion and all the other governors she had to watch sitting in the office that finalfuckingkly is hers now.-¦- joan -¦-   regards it as more of a fight song, really. After all, there’s talk about being fearless and avoiding mushroom clouds. Aside from that, according to these lyrics it’s more than understandable - acceptable even - to just disregard all the fucking brainless ants who call themselves human beings. Their lives never have meant anything and never will mean anything. The only reason they exist is to be toyed with and get crushed when they become bothersome.

{this one I was planning on making anyway tho… had the clip already saved and everything… but yeah, have a gif of Joan looking like she wants to crush my lil shrimp there… so fucking classic}

J2 feat. Cameron The Public - Man In The Mirror-¦- vera -¦-   »   And No Message Could HaveBeen Any Clearer   »   If You Wanna Make The WorldA Better Place   »   Take A Look At Yourself, AndThen Make A Change-¦- joan -¦-   »   I’ve Been A Victim Of A SelfishKind Of LoveThat is literally the only part of the lyrics that Joan as much as kind of likes…  Vera thinks the song has an important message that everybody should take to heart but doesn’t really associate much else with it. She already knew the Michael Jackson version, but Gidge was the one who introduced them to this particular cover. After listening to the first few lines Joan saw right through her though. This wasn’t actually a suggestion for a song they could cover, but an attempt at sneaky psycho-nonsense. So she only listened to it that once and never again.

SEE - She Cries-¦- vera -¦-   »   When your minds are aligned through the glass it’s clearer for you-¦- joan -¦-   »   Take a second to unwind and feel your lungs expand inside of you   »   Take a second to decide and change your eyes from seeing gray and blueThis song makes them think of each other. Neither one of them remembers who came across it when and where first, but it’s one of the songs one of them discovered during rockier times in their relationship.-¦- vera -¦-    is reminded of their (near) break-ups, all the pain of those heartbreaks and all the tears she shed over Joan. That one line particularly hits the mark because it will never not remind her of realizing the truth about the former governor.-¦- joan -¦-   actually attributes positive images to this one. Yes, it’s a sad song about breaking up, and like Vera, she too is reminded of all the times it was as good as over between them. What’s different for her is that even though she claims not to, she actually does remember the first time she heard the song. And that was long before they ever were more than co-workers. Apprehensive that the woman under her command had become too suspicious of her, she’d been snooping through investigating Vera’s house while the petite brunette was at Wentworth. Not fearing any interruptions, on a whim, she’d started listening to whatever was still in the CD player, and had then put the song on repeat immediately after it was done playing. Hearing it over and over again had then helped her come to a few conclusions.   »   And oh but it isn’t enough   »   She cries, she criesEvery time she heard that part she couldn’t help but picture Vera crying herself to sleep because of her. She knew that her protégé wanted more than Joan was willing to give - even professionally. And there was no doubt in her mind that the other woman was just as emotionally affected on a personal level. Until Vera Bennett that sort of thing had never even slowed her down though. On the contrary, she’d always just used it to her advantage - taking the feelings being developed towards her and turning them into an efficient blade was something she considered to be a bit of a speciality even. Of course there had been women she too had been infatuated with, but actually allowing herself such a folly was a mistake she’d paid for dearly and she’d sworn to never let herself be that vulnerable again.That stupid song then went and opened her eyes to the fact that this time things were very different though. Times had changed in general and it wasn’t like either one of them was ever going to be an inmate. Thanks to that, like the song said, she took some time for intense considerations and allowed herself to leave the prison of it all out of the equation completely. A strict separation between work and private life could minimize any complications after all. And it wasn’t as if she’d have to reveal everything about herself. So, maybe, just maybe, as long as she kept her guard up at all times, there was the potential for some companionship here. So she’d gone back home and had started to come up with a plan that would allow them to explore whatever it was that connected them.

The Script feat. Will.i.am - Hall Of Fame-¦- vera -¦-   »   Dedicate yourself and you can find yourself-¦- joan -¦-   »    You could walk straight through hell with a smileThis one is way too motivational for it to have come from a source other than Bridget Westfall.{blegh… I’m not trying to be like ‘they get half their shit from Gidge’… but that sneaky psychology thing just seemed like such a thing she’d do and then this one with the we can be heroes attitude… that just screams Gidge to me.}{So, yeah, let’s just assume they saw it on Fridget’s blog, cause obviously, TIFM would have a tumblr and whatnot. Or twitter or facebook or whatever you wanna think of where they communicate digitally. Either way, it’s on Bridget’s motivational shit playlist… which now exists.}-¦- joan -¦-   doesn’t need a stupid excessively cheerful song to remind her that she’s better than everybody else. Why don’t people ever write songs about how fucking inferior the masses are? Maybe she and Vera really should start thinking about adding some original songs to their repertoire…-¦- vera -¦-    would actually love to do a cover version of this one with the Maidens, but knows Joan (and her taste in music) better than to even suggest it. {yeah… other than the sounds like Gidge thing, this one didn’t inspire me even sort of… :/ }

K’s Choice - Paradise In Me-¦- vera -¦-   »   And I wonder what it’s all about   »   To close my eyes and finally see   »   A piece of paradise in me-¦- joan -¦-   »   Consuming far too much   »   Ignoring the will to touch   »   The ones who don’t have food at all…-¦- vera -¦-    discovered K’s Choice when she was a teenager and fell in love with the band not only because she thoroughly enjoyed their music but because so many of their lyrics rang true for her but at the same time they made funny songs that also made you think. There was just something about them that she connected with immediately and that is still there whenever she happens to hear one of their songs again.{that’s basically my own K’s choice backstory, but I liked it for Vera for some reason… I hope that’s okay. If not, scratch that and she just doesn’t remember cause it’s been so long.}-¦- joan -¦-   - to her this song is all about the beginnings. Literally, with the first lines also being her favorites, but more importantly so in several figurative ways. For one, she was introduced to the band by Vera when their relationship was in the early stages and they realized just how much they had in common that no one ever could have expected. This song in general, as well as Vera’s favorite passage from it always reminded her just how lucky she was to have Vera. Of course that was something she’d never ever say out loud, but deep down she knew that she had a lot to be thankful for with Vera, including that cheesy paradise thing.And then there is that particular passage. It brings back memories of the time when she first started having these… notions towards her second in command. Trying to starve those out had been the beginning of the end for her when Jodie Spiteri had come forward. 

6-10 ➟ fridget (is started but not finished, so: will be posted at some point in the not so distant future…)

who proudly still buys Vinyl and/or CDs and who has an ipod like a pirate ship-¦- vera -¦-       ◦ Of course she does have a digital music playing device too, but unless the songs came from one of the pirating minxes, they were downloaded legally.-¦- joan -¦-       ◦ If they really wanted your money, they wouldn’t have made it sofucking easy to drink the milk for free… not that she doesn’t everactually buy stuff, but most of the time she refuses to pay for somethingthat can be obtained without money changing hands and requires minimal effort on her part.

who makes all the mixtapes/playlists-¦- vera -¦-       ◦ If Joan wants a mixtape/playlist for some reason, she gets Vera to make it for her.

who would last longer in a mosh pit-¦- joan -¦-       ◦ She’d be the last one fucking standing, her face sporting that ‘Seriously? Is that all you got?!’ expression as she looks around to make sure they’re really all down for good… or til the next song anyway.-¦- freakytits & fridget -¦-       ◦ None of them would be among the very first people to fall, but Vera and Bridget usually go down first and second out of their group. Between the two of them it could go either way though. Sometimes they even do it on purpose and go hang out by the bar instead. Probably not even having noticed that, Franky would eventually start struggling and a misstep then lands her on the ground. But she always jumps right back up and keeps going until she needs a break. And Joan would just keep going til the bitter end, meaning until she feels like she has defeated everybody else. And don’t even bother trying to tell her that it’s not a death match competition.

who would win the gold medal if stage diving was an olympic discipline-¦- vera -¦-       ◦ But only because Joan is her coach and puts her through a strict training schedule and has all the best angles and routes and jumping off points and whatnots planned and perfected down to the smallest details. Never in a million years would she ever do the crowd surfing thing herself though. All those filthy people touching her? Don’t be ridiculous.

who has more band shirts and who wears them more often-¦- freakytits -¦-       ◦ They have about the same in quantity and wear em equally as often… all of the shirts are from the same band though: -¦- IRON FUCKING MAIDENS -¦-

who randomly starts dancing/singing-¦- vera -¦-       ◦ maybe… I don’t know. I can’t really see either one of them just randomly jump up and bounce around or break into song… they do have band practice after all, and when it’s just the two of them and they’re in the mood to jam, they will, but never without something resembling a reason. Vera would be more likely to than Joan though, I think.

who knows all the classics by heart, who has the most awesome random and obscure stuff and who discovers all the new bands-¦- freakytits -¦- aka -¦- IRON FUCKING MAIDENS -¦-        ◦  d’oh… cover band XD-¦- joan -¦-       ◦ I know she was canon born in Russia cause that was in her file… so assuming she at the very least knows people from her (family’s) past over there… they share the raddest Russian stuff with her and she then circulates that around Melbourne. bonus song: Red Elvises - Juliet-¦- vera -¦-       ◦  is the one who actually does the research on said new discovery, regardless of which one of em actually stumbled across them first.

who drags the other one along to all the concerts/festivals/CBGB’s type venues etc-¦- joan -¦-       ◦ Vera makes suggestions, but they really only go to whatever Joan approves of. And the same goes for all the gigs the Iron Fucking Maidens book. If Joan isn’t feeling it for whatever reason, it’s not happening.

who messes with the car radio as soon as a song they don’t like starts playing-¦- joan -¦-       ◦ Like she’s gonna tolerate one more note than necessary to recognize that shit? Please. It’s fucking -¦- JOAN -¦-

anything else that might be pertinent