#and im like oh my god.....this shit again. not going back to tha old me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wroteasongabouther · 7 years ago

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Grumpy - A Harry Styles Imagine

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N

RATING: R

WORD COUNT: 16k (!!!!what!!!!!)

A/N: im really really sorry about my absences with my series but ive been writing this over the past while and quite like it so i really hope you all like it too xx feedback is always lovely

Harry’s smirk soon changes back to the usual scowl he had around you. His brows wound tight, green eyes narrowed to slits, while his mildly chapped lips formed a hard thin line. His one hand is holding up his towel while the other steadied himself, suppose it’d take a bit more than a hot shower to cure this hangover. Then before you can stop it, your eyes are drifting from the droplets in his hair to his wet chest. His towel is dangerously low, exposing his more defined v line and his treasure trail that leads to...

Harry clears his throat then, snapping you back to attention. There’s that smirk again. You raise a brow and mirror his smirk.

“Just checking there’s no new stupid tattoos,” you say, lying through your teeth. Harry knew it too. So you just roll your eyes again and turn on your heels. “Downstairs, twenty minutes,” you call over your shoulder before letting yourself out of his hotel room.

The one when Y/N works for Harry who has one bad attitude.

(Find the next parts here)

The sounds of empty bottles smacking into each other fills the hotel room as you finally swipe the card through and get the door open. You have to stop yourself before spewing out a string of curses and groans. The room is a wreck though. Empties littered across the floor, clothes in piles, and you notice some obvious feminine articles as well. You roll your eyes and round the corner where the bed was and as you thought so, it’s not just occupied by one naked body but two.

“Oh god,” you gasp, covering your eyes at the sight.

“What tha-“

“Oh my god! Didn’t you see the do not disturb sign Jesus Christ I’ll call the front desk and get you fired,” the young woman in the bed shouts as she pulls the covers over her body. Suppose she was in for a surprise when she realized you weren’t housekeeping.

“What are you thinking, Harry?” you question harshly, eyes ignoring the dumb blonde and focused on the squinting young man beside her.

“What are the doin’ in my room?”

“You were supposed to be at breakfast thirty minutes ago,” you state.

“Fuck,” he mumbles while sitting himself up now. Thankfully when the girl moved the covers, they ended up over his junk - not that you haven’t seen it before, just that you weren’t entirely a fan of seeing it. You roll your eyes again and cross your arms at your chest.

“Who are you?” the girl asks.

“Who are you?” You counter back, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Um, my name is...” she trails off and looks to Harry, “what did you say my name was again if someone asked?”

You snort, having to bring a hand to your lips in order to not put right laugh at this situation. He still had the same stupid plan even after all these years. Damn idiot, he was.

“Oh god, you’re not his girlfriend or something are you?” she gasps suddenly.

“Oh sweetie, if I was his girlfriend you’d be dead right now,” you exclaim with a smile. She sinks down into the mattress. “No, don’t get comfy, you’re leaving now,” you bark out the order while motioning with one hand for her to get out of the bed.

“I’m naked!”

“Then get dressed,”

“Oh my god, look away or something you fucking weirdo,”

You only roll your eyes again, turning around so your back was to the bed now. Harry grumbles, you hear him flop down into his bed again as his company gets out from the hotel bed. The girl gets dressed silently but after she’s down you hear her whisper something to Harry, which she only gets a grumbly ‘goodbye’ in response. She walks passed you, avoiding eye contact, but you follow right after her.

“Your phone,” you say while holding out your hand. The girl turns around at the threshold of the hotel room.

“It’s been off since I got up here,” she says.

You shake your head, “prove it,” you order.

She sighs, taking the iPhone from her pocket and hits the home button a few times. The screen stays black each time and you have no choice but to believe her. You stand straight then, narrowing your eyes at her. She looked rather rough, hair all over the place and black smudged down her face - not to mention her shirt was on backwards.

“Speak a word of this to anyone and you’ll pay for it. Post any sort of photo or video and you’ll pay for it. Just keep this night to yourself, dream about it, relish in the thought you fucked Harry Styles and then get over it. They all have to,” you say. Then with that, you shut the door in her face and turn back to handle the real problem at hand.

“Way to make me sound like a slut,” Harry mumbles.

“You are,” you state bluntly. Harry glares from where he lays in bed. His hair was all sorts of messed up too, but he kinda made it work you guessed, while his eyes were slightly bloodshot and he was squinting at the daylight peeking through the blinds. All of this was a sight you saw rather regularly. This was your job, laying right here, hungover as shit.

“Are you ever going to grow up, Harry?” you question. Harry let’s out a groan in response. “No, seriously, because I’ve been kicking nameless girls out of your fucking hotel room since you were 19 years old now. Isn’t it getting tired? Because I can tell you it is for me,”

“Then leave,” he utters.

“No,” you say and cross your arms at your chest again. “It’s my job, doesn’t mean I can’t complain about my job. You sure as hell do,”

“Yeah I do,” Harry resorts, lifting his head from the pillow to glare at you again. “Now fuckin’ leave, m’tired,”

Can you believe you roll your eyes again? Bloody idiot he was, thinking you’d just walk out and leave. You manoeuvre around the mess on the floor and walk into the bathroom, reaching into the shower to turn it on as hot as it can. As it steams up the room you organize Harry’s toiletries that way he has one less thing to complain about once he gets his ass in gear. When you return to the bedroom, Harry has actually made some process, eyes glued to his phone screen.

“Get in the shower,” you command him. “Now!” You shout this time.

Harry tosses his phone off to the side of the mattress, wraps a sheet around himself and gets out of bed. But of course he’s sporting his best piercing scowl while doing so. You simply return the icy look with a tight smile. Just as Harry steps into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door, you phone buzzes. It’s Jeff texting you for an update on what’s happening. You reply with a short summary of your morning affairs, assuring him that his number one client was up and at it now.

“Don’t take your time, car leaves in 30,” you state while leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. The glass door for the shower is fogged up, but you can see Harry moving around thankfully. Some days he liked to just stand there and waste everyone’s time.

Harry doesn’t respond, so your eyes fall back to your phone screen. You decide to triple check the itinerary for today. The flight from Basel to Paris was close to two hours long which meant Harry would have plenty of time to sleep away his hangover.

“Why don’t you just quit if you complain about your job so much?” Harry asks, talking loudly over the sound of the shower.

“Cause it’s my job, has been forever now,” you sigh.

“I think it’s cause you love me,” Harry says. You can hear the smirk on his lips, and then as the water turns off and the shower door opens you look away for a moment till he’s got a towel on. Low and behold there’s that precious smirk of his.

“Oh yeah,” you taunt, “Who wouldn’t love a man with your drinking habits and all the whores too. Oh and that attitude, ugh, ta die for,” you swoon jokingly.

Harry clears his throat then, snapping you back to attention. There’s that smirk again. You raise a brow and mirror his smirk.

How you got the privilege to work for the less than lovely Harry Styles is beyond you. One day you were an intern at One Direction label, being offered to tag along on tour, and then the next thing you knew you were the one keeping all five boys in check. And you did your job well. Always professional, but can also be personal when needed too, and you got shit done. So when the band decided on their hiatus, you kept contact with them all - but everyone knew Harry was the one who needed your help the most. Liam and Louis had grown up and had kids, while Niall was never a worry to begin with, it was just Harry who was still lost. So when his new manager, Jeff, called you one day to offer you a job you knew you couldn’t decline and leave him to deal with the mess that was Harry. He only ever listened to you, therefore he needed you.

“He’s up?” Jeff asks as you approach the group standing near the lobby doors.

“Sure is, and hungover and grumpy and an asshole but what else is new,” you sigh and glance down at your phone as it buzzes in your hand. It’s Harry ordering a large black coffee before he gets down to the lobby. “Anyone want to come get some coffee with me?” You ask, eyeing up the band and few others standing by.

“I could use a tea,” Clare shrugs and follows after you.

“Grumpy needs a coffee,” you state as you push open the door to the breakfast lounge - for a lack of better words.

“Of course he does,” Clare chuckles, “he and Mitch were out late last night.”

“I know,” you nod.

She doesn’t respond as you pour the coffee into the cup, putting on a lid and a sleeve before pouring your own next. Once you’ve got three packets of sugar and one cream, you and Clare head back to the group. You’re not surprised to see you’re still waiting on Harry.

“I told him twenty minutes,” you say defensively when Jeff gives you a look.

“It’s been close to,” he states.

“I can only do so much, Jeff, can’t hold his damn hand anymore,” you huff and bring your coffee to your lips. Of course it’s too hot and burns your tongue a little.

As you look at the usual few that follow Harry on his drinking nights, you notice none of them look in as bad of shape as Harry did. Suppose they’re starting to realize they can’t keep up to a young rockstar with a drinking problem. Didn’t matter how many stories good old Tim the lead crew had from back in the day of him drinking, he was tapping out after three beers as Harry downs his fifth drink of the night. If Harry were to stop at five then that’d be a good night. His typical limit was ten. But most nights he liked to exceed that lately. The guys should’ve been around when it all started, 19 year old Harry was even worse somehow. Miller, his bodyguard since the beginning, could vouch for you.

“There you are,” Jeff exclaims as Harry makes his arrival. He’s dressed in a black t-shirt and blue slim fit jeans with some Vans upon his feet and sunglasses adoring his face to block the daylight from his sensitive eyes. A usual look.

“Coffee,” Harry grunts and grabs ahold of one of the coffee cups from your hands. Before you can tell him he took yours, he takes a large sip and his faces says it all.

“That’s mine,” you state, switching them between your hands to give him the black coffee this time. Harry immediately washes away the taste from your coffee with his own.

“We’re getting late, let’s move people,” Jeff shouts loud enough for the group traveling together to hear.

There’s one van and one car for the handful of you left to head to the next stop on tour - Paris, France. You were rather excited to be back in Paris. Meant you actually had the excuse to speak French. Which was one of the five languages you spoke fluently. But also Paris was Paris and if you weren’t excited to be there you’d be delusional.

“Helene, I need you to send me the best shots from last night please,” you call up to where the tour photographer sat front seat of the van.

“Just stage photos or backstage too?” she asks, looking through her laptop.

“Uh a few of both maybe,” you answer. Harry, who’s sitting beside you in the back seat of the van, shushes you harshly. Turning your head to look his way, you see his brows pulled down which could only mean he’s scowling behind those sunglasses he’s got on.

“Quit being so bloody loud,” he says.

“I’m not-“

“Fuckin’ screaming in mah ear,” he mumbles, turning his body away as much as he possibly can. His hip knocks into yours, which makes you glare at him as he tosses around like a child.

“Sorry I’m doing my fuckin’ job, Harry,” you snap back at him. You only get a mumbled response, you don’t even bother to get him to repeat whatever comment he has. Instead you focus on your phone as you get an email from Helene containing the photos you had just asked for.

During a meeting a few weeks prior to tour starting back up, Jeff and yourself agreed it’d be good if Harry got more involved on social media. All you two asked of him was to post one photo from each show. But Harry asked as though you were asking him to sew you a damn dress after every night. This of course lead to you getting his social media passwords and having to do the simple task yourself. It was kinda upsetting to see his fans react to a tweet, thinking its send by their idol when in reality it’s just you.

“Look good or what?” You ask Harry, literally shoving your phone into his face. He surprises you, lifting his glasses and grabbing your phone from your hand.

“Black boarder, not white,” he mutters and hands you back the phone.

“Okay,” you sigh. Guess that was as much input he had on the post.

It’s not soon enough arriving at the private jet. Harry had continue to toss, nudging you repeatedly, through the remainder of the fifteen minute car ride. Then you’re helping Grumpy figure out the back seats and letting him stomp up the stairs of the plane.

In the air plane, there’s sort of a like a ‘picnic table’ set up to it. Two to four chairs would face each other, the groups of four had a full table between while the two chairs facing each other had an open space. Of course you took it upon yourself to sit across from Harry, seeing that you were one of the few people in the plane who could deal with his attitude. Harry immediately slumps down in his seat, buckles up for take off, and sits with his legs spread apart comfortably you hoped. You give him one more look, noticing he crosses his arms at his chest, before knowing he’s falling fast asleep.

You sort of wished he would’ve slept the whole flight, but half way through Harry wakes just as you’re feeling uncomfortable from the long flight. You’ve already tried to get up and wake around, talking to Clare and Sarah about some cafe they wanted to go to in Paris. But then you found yourself back in your seat, nibbling on your bottom lip while looking at your phone screen. That’s when Harry grumbles, sitting up finally and stretching.

“Get enough sleep?” you ask, glancing up from your phone to meet his hooded eyes. He had pushed up his sunglasses to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“I guess,” he mutters.

“Your Instagram post is getting quite the buzz,” you state.

“Cool,”

“Cool,” you mock him, rolling your eyes too. In which Harry returns of course.

It’s silence between you after that. You’re both focused on your phones, Harry bugs the flight attendant for a drink which you very quickly modify to just be a soda with no sorta of liquor at all. This earns a glare from Harry and some mumbling under his breath.

Your legs are beginning to feel cramped up again, you seriously hated flights sometimes. When you had to travel longer distances you usually popped a gravel and passed out in order to not fumble around in your seat to get comfortable hours on end. You kick out your heeled black Balenciaga booties out till your toes hit Harry’s seat in front of you, your legs between his spread out legs. That’s not much comfortable though, just as you go to cross your legs Harry reaches down and grabs your ankle.

“Just rest ‘em here,” he says while placing your boots on his thigh.

You swallow the lump in your throat and feel your stomach do some kinda twist from the gesture. While Harry’s unfazed by it all, looking out the window of the plane while you cross your ankles on his jean clad thigh. He had the right idea though because you’re the most comfortable you’ve been the whole flight with your feet up.

“Thanks,” you say with a tight smile.

“No problem,”

You look back at your phone, checking your own social medias for once. After people got the fact you worked for One Direction, your following grew an unbelievable amount. This only really meant you needed to hold onto a few media training skills you gave the boys for yourself, watching what you posted and what you said in order to not get backlash from the fans. But there was always backlash.

“Are you goin’ to teach me any French?” Harry asks suddenly, bringing your gaze back to where he sat. He had rested his arm over your ankles and was hunched forward just a little. Seems that hangover really was fading away.

“Yeah, I can,” you nod.

“Just somethin’ simple I can talk to the crowd with,”

You nod again and think of something, anything really, and quick before this small nice gesture of Harry’s vanished behind another scowl. After his theatre tour last year everyone sat down and evaluated the shows. First thing that you brought up was the lack of interaction Harry gave to his fans. Yes, he was a stellar performer and his fans loved him for that but he barely said a sentence every night and it wasn’t going to cut it. Just yesterday Harry mentioned learning different languages and you loved the idea.

“Bonsoir, Je ma’ppelle Y/N,” you say - you sure did miss speaking French, having learnt in your school days all the way up till your graduated at college.

One corner of Harry’s mouth twitches upwards just a bit before he clears his throat, “one more time,” he says.

“Bonsoir, Je ma’ppelle Y/N,” you repeat.

“Bonsoir, Je ma’ppelle Harry,” he echoes.

“Good,” you smile, yes actually smile at Harry. “Uh, let’s go, J’appends le Francais mais je suis un peu lent.”

Harry asks for you to repeat it again, the consecrated look on his face is kinda cute. Then he says it, mispronouncing only one word so you repeat it again and then he gets it down. Without you even asking or telling him anything else Harry puts the whole bit together with a small smile upon his lips. It just hits you that he hasn’t even bothered to ask what all of this you’re teaching him means, so of course you decide to poke some fun at him too.

“Et je suis une douleur dans le cul,” you say, grinning at him now.

“Et je suis une douleur dans le cul,” Harry repeats.

Helene, who’s sitting close by, laughs loudly then which causes Harry to furrow his brows together and look her way. Everyone else around her is busy talking, have headphones in or are sleeping so it’s rather obvious she’s laughing at the little prank you’ve pulled on Harry. You two shit talked in French quite often actually.

“What am I saying?” Harry roars out the question with annoyance in each word. You swear you see Adam jolt up in his seat

You simply return the hint of anger with a smile, “Good evening, my name is Harry. I’m learning French but I am a little slow. And I’m a pain in the ass,”

“Funny,” Harry grumbles, crossing his arms at his chest.

“Thought so,” you smirk. There’s no missing the scowl that’s starting to take over Harry’s face, so you quickly kick out your foot and glare at him. “Don’t start, it was just a joke,” you say.

Harry narrows his eyes at you but you notice the twitch of his lips again. It’s kinda sweet how he tries to not show you a smile sometimes. You run a hand through your hair, fixing the soft curls while letting out a small sigh.

“Je suis désolé, s'il vous plait, ne me renvoyez pas,” you say, giving him a toothy smart-ass grin. Helene chuckles again before focusing back on her laptop to edit more photos you’d assume.

“What’d ya say this time?” Harry asks, still as grumpy as ever.

“I’m sorry, please don’t fire me,” you smile.

Harry chuckles, “couldn’t even if I wanted to, love,” he mumbles before looking down at his phone.

You roll your eyes but there’s still a smile on your lips. He was right. Even if you did something out right stupid, which you never would cause you’re the smart one here, Harry would never fire you. Plus Jeff wouldn’t let him. As you’ve said before, they needed you. Grumpy bugger would only listen to you.

“‘Kay, minus the last part, speak French to me, Grumpy,” you tease.

Harry rolls his eyes, “Bonsoir, Je ma’ppelle Harry. J’appends le Francais mais je suis un peu lent,”

You’re staring, you know you are, but his voice sounds kinda nice. Smooth and still a little husky from his little nap. Harry speaking French was kinda hot. And you’d never admit it aloud. You’d be a damn fool to not find Harry attractive in even the slightest bit, over all these years there’s been certain times when you find yourself feeling drawn to him - but then he acts like a brat and fucks another fan for fun. You were too good for him, and he’d never see you like that anyways.

“What?” Harry questions your staring, taking a sip of his drink.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, “let’s add, um, merci d’etre avec nous ce soir. It mean’s thank you for being with us tonight,”

“One more time,” Harry insists, face screwed up as he tries to remember what you just said to him. It’s kinda cute, his lips mouthing out the words before he says any just to be sure of himself. You repeat yourself one more time like he asked and of course, he’s got it no problem. The fans tonight in Paris were going to love him. Which meant you were doing your job right.

⏤

Three shots of expresso in your second coffee of the day wasn’t your best decision, at the time of ordering at the cute little cafe with Clare and Sarah you were more concerned about the fact you were nearly falling asleep at the table. But now you had caffeine overdose jitters while walking around backstage. Jeff had you check out a few things with the crew, hand out some PIT tickets to a lovely fan and her family and now you were finally heading back to the dressing room. You shouldn’t be surprised when you open the door and see red wine being passed around, Harry drinking straight from the bottle.

Mitch and his red wine, and Harry and his drinking problem, right? You hold back the eye roll and walk towards the wardrobe rack that had been set up. There’s three options, as there is every night, from Harry Lambert for Harry to chose from. Then it was your job to text Lambert which suit Harry chooses and then he did his Instagram story thing. As you look at the suits, you really hope you can persuade him to wear the other sparkly YSL custom made one. It may be your favourite.

“Oi! M’not shit at ping pong, you are!” Harry barks back at Adam, followed by some laughter thankfully. Wine made Harry a bit more bubbly than some other liquors he enjoyed.

“I suck cause you suck,” Adam counters back.

“Shut up, I’m bettah then you’ll ever be,” Harry says. You do roll your eyes this time. Narcissistic grumpy boy, he was. You quickly make your way towards where he sat between his stupidly expensive Gucci pillows.

“Okay, that’s enough wine now,” you exclaim while stealing the bottle out of his hands.

“What the fuck,” Harry grumbles, turning in order to scowl at you.

You give him a smile before looking to the band, “Grumpy has to get changed, he’ll meet you out there,” you say. The four all stand and leave without a fight, Mitch taking the bottle of red with him as you hand it his way.

“You’re a buzz kill, anyone tell ya that before?” Harry quips, standing from his seat once the others are gone.

“Actually, you have, several times. Mostly after I kick your little whores out,”

Harry simply glares at you in return. Your expresso fuelled energy kicks in again as you rack your hand over the few suits for him to pick from. You immediately grab the hanger that holds the custom YSL.

“I think you should wear this,” you propose, smiling as you hold out the suit for Harry to take. He gives it a once over look, then does the same thing to you which causes your eyes to narrow.

“And why should I take fashion advice from you? You’re literally wearin’ a jumper and jeans,” he says.

“First of all, my shoes cost as much as my monthly rent. Second off, this sweater is your tour merchandise. And lastly these jeans make my ass look amazing thank you very much,” you counter back defensively with a snarl on your lips.

Harry smirks, “wouldn’t be able to tell if your ass looks good or not, love, you’re practically swimming in that jumper. You look bloody ridiculous,”

“I like to be comfortable, get over it and wear this god damn suit,” you growl and shove the suit at Harry. He’s quit to grab the garment before it hits the floor, raising a brow at you before you stomp off and sit on the sofa. Even though the pillows cost way too much, they were sort of comfortable. You bring your legs up on the sofa, tucking them to your chest while you lay your head on the pillow. Queue the start of your caffeine crash. Your fingers toy with the fringe along the pillow as you fight to keep your eyes open while waiting for Harry to change.

You must’ve nodded off for a few minutes, waking to Harry’s gently nudging you. Opening your eyes, you are met with so much sparkle it almost blinds you. But it makes you give a lopsided lazy smile, you were right Harry looked amazing in the suit.

“Good choice,” you say.

“Thanks, made it myself,” he jokes with a smug look. You roll your eye and lay your head down again. “Before you fall back asleep, can you go over the French again, I don’t really want to make a fool of myself out there,”

“M’not going to fall asleep, just resting my eyes,” you say, followed by a yawn.

“Right,” Harry drones. You smile while shutting your eyes. Suddenly you feel Harry’s large hands grasping ahold of your calves, lifting them before the sofa sinks under his weight and he brings your legs to rest across your lap for the second time today.

“Ton costume a l'air très joli. Et votre français est bien,” you say sleepily.

“Merci?”

“You’re welcome, Grumpy,” you smile. “Okay.. Bonsoir, Je ma’ppelle Harry. J’appends le Francais mais je suis un peu lent. Merci d’etre avec nous ce soir,”

There’s silence from Harry. You’re almost too tired to open your eyes and see wether he had fallen asleep himself or maybe he was looking at his phone distracted again. Peeking one eye open, you see it’s nether. Harry’s looking at you, while his fingers are toying with the frays along the bottom of your jeans. You close your eyes again, wiggling your hips further into the couch for comfort.

“Need me to repeat myself?” you ask, as smug as he had been before.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry says and clears his throat, stilling picking at your fraying jeans. You fight back the smile and say the few sentences in French again. In order to keep from the caffeine crash you kept talking to Harry, trying to perfect the articulation of his words to the best you can.

Then it was almost show time. You’re up, yawning the whole way through, and doing your job. From the dressing room to backstage, you can hear the fans singing along to the tunes as you follow behind Harry. Just as he gets to the stairs, he catches your gaze. You immediately notice he’s got a bit of a scowl on his face since someone mentioned the opening act running a little late. So you lift your pointer fingers to the corners of your mouth while showing him a big smile. Harry rolls his eyes but you can’t miss the fact his scowl is gone and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips now.

Like the show prior, you and Jeff stand off to ‘stage right’ to watch from the sidelines. Just before the lights go down and the rubix cube visuals cause a stir from the arena, you notice Harry mouthing the French you two had been working on backstage. Your lips curl up into a smile before you bring your to-go cup of tea to have another sip. Then the screen rises, the whole arena erupts in high pitched screams, and the band starts playing Only Angel. Your head bobbing along to the beat as Harry belts out the lyrics with all his might, performing had always been his favourite. Suppose your job wasn’t all that bad.

It doesn’t surprise you when you head backstage to the dressing room again half way through the show. You had yawned so much that Jeff told you to go nap till the show was over. So you did, sleeping till Helene is shaking you awake saying it’s about time to make the mad dash from the arena.

⏤

“I’ll get a coffee please,” you say, smiling at the waiter before he nods and walks off.

“It’s like 8 in the evening,” Sarah states from across the table. She, Clare, Helene and yourself had decided to have a late dinner at the restaurant in your hotel in Stockholm.

“I have to stay up late, prepare for some upcoming promotion things and reviews of the last week of shows,” you explain, “plus Harry wants a new sofa bought for his LA home by the end of this week so I’m trying to do that while in a different country,”

“A new sofa?” Clare asks, brows pulled together.

“I don’t ask questions anymore,” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders just as your waiter returns then with everyone drinks. You’re thankful he brings a small plate with sugars and creams too, black coffee seriously sucked. After stirring your coffee, you take a long sip and hum contently. A nice little dinner in Stockholm was exactly what you needed after this long first week of tour. You thought after all these years touring and traveling along side Harry you’d be used to it, but you are already struggling it seems.

The four of you girls are having fun chatting about the shows and the fans and all the places you’ve seen thus far. The three of them get a big more time to look around each city than you do - you’re always busy cleaning up Harry’s mess of alcoholic issues from city to city. Last night it was literally cleaning up the wine bottles from the dressing room before the flight left from Antwerp to Stockholm. Harry and the guys took advantage of the extra time at the arena to get drunk before the redeye flight. The night ended with you muttering things under your breath, Harry scowling, and you tossing red solo cups and empty bottles into the garbage as everyone else left.

This morning you didn’t even bother to check up on him. Wether he drank himself to sleep again or somehow got another girl into his room in the middle of the night, you didn’t care. He was rude last night and you needed a day off before the show tomorrow.

“Is that Harry?” Helene questions, pointing her fork in the direction of the bar. You chew another bite of your meal and glance the way she’s gesturing to.

She’s right, of course she is. Harry’s leaning towards another blonde with long legs while seated at the bar. The blonde is loving the smirk Harry’s got across his face, throwing her head back with laughter at whatever he had said - you bet it wasn’t even that funny. You roll your eyes and set down your coffee after having a long sip.

“I’m not doing this again tonight,” you grit through your teeth, “if one of you pays for my meal I’ll transfer you some money later, I need to do my job it seems,” you sigh and get up from the table as all the girls wish you luck. This wasn’t about to be an easy one.

You approach the bar from behind Harry, glaring at the blonde as her dark eyes meet yours. She immediately stands up straight and widens her eyes, seems you’ve scared her a bit. This brings a smug look to your lips, just as Harry turns around to glance over his shoulder and see you. You decided you wanted to spice this one up a little, so you snake your hand across his should blades and bring yourself into Harry’s side which causes him to sit up a bit and look at you with confusion clear as day.

“Can’t leave you along for too long now can I, baby?” You ask, smirking while Harry’s eyes narrow as he catches onto your little plan. You glance back to the blonde, “he’s just too polite somedays, I swear, was he offering to pay for your drinks? What an angel he is,” you give her a tight smile.

“Something like that,” the Swedish accent is thick as the girl answers you.

“What? What was happening here, sweetie?” You fake gasp, fingers digging into Harry’s neck as you look his way. He’s got that lovely snarl ready to go. “Were you going to cheat on me? You dirty bastard, how dare you, I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you!” You whisper shout every word so it’s just heard by Harry and the blonde. Harry’s eyes somehow narrow even more into slits. But you can’t miss the tugging of his lips again, seems he’s entertained at least.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know-“

“It’s fine,” you snap back at her. “We’re leaving now,” you say to Harry while pulling him from the bar stool. Harry huffs, opening his mouth to protest but you’re quick to shut him up again. “Don’t you dare try and talk you’re way out of this,” you say dramatically, taking his hand and dragging him towards the doors back into the hotel lobby.

Harry lets out a low chuckle as the two of you get to the elevator, you lean over to push the button and wait. You glance his way and surprised by the fact he’s not scowling at you. Harry’s grinning, yeah it’s a weird sight to behold - he only really let out a grin while on stage cause he loved that bit of his job enough. Or when Anne was around, but never would he actually grin at you.

“What?” you question, eyes narrowed.

“M’starin’ to think,” he pauses as the elevator doors open and the both of you step inside, “that you’re acting out of jealousy, love,” he finishes with that same grin.

A loud laugh, right from your gut, erupts through the elevator. You hold your stomach, throwing your head back for good measure too. Finally you turn to look at Harry again and see he’s got that scowl back on thank goodness. You give him a smile, reaching over to touch his cheek giving it a quick tap before dropping your hand back to your side again.

“You’re a funny one, Harry Styles,” you say. The elevator doors open up at the floor both your rooms were on. “Now, order in some food and watch some shitty TV show, just don’t make my job harder please,” you breathe out.

“Is that what you’re doing?”

“That and ordering your new stupid sofa,” you answer.

“Mind if I, uh, join you?” Harry coughs, seeming to struggle with asking if he could hangout with you.

You chuckle under your breath, “yeah, sure, that way I don’t pick out a sofa and order it and then you decide you don’t like it and I have to return it and then order a new one all while on the other side of the world,” you ramble out.

“You’ve known me for years, I’m sure you would’ve made a great choice by yourself,” Harry says.

You shrug, taking out your hotel room key and sliding it through till the door opens for the two of you to walk through. Immediately all you want to do it change back into the extra large tour sweater, some sleep shorts and get more comfortable. If it was acceptable, you would wear leggings and oversized sweaters everywhere - but you knew going to a restaurant meant you should wear a cute top and some jeans.

“Feel free to get comfortable, order some room service too but just know it will be charged on your card not mine,” you tell Harry while gathering your few items of clothing you were going to get changed into.

“M’kay,” Harry hums and you walk into the bathroom to get changed and use the toilet too. To be completely honest, you’re taking your time, even going to the length of brushing your hair since you had the time to. Harry could entertain himself, you heard the TV on already and then just as you’re opening the bathroom door you see he’s answering the door for the room service. First thing you notice is the bottle of red wine on the cart.

“Can’t go a day without something to drink now?” you question once the door is closed, rolling your eyes at Harry as he reaches for the wine first.

“Do you ever just relax and have a drink?” Harry asks, raising a brow while taking a seat on one side of the bed. Of course he sits on the side you would’ve liked.

“Yes,” you mumble.

Harry seems to take that as his right to pour you as glass. It doesn’t surprise you when his is a bit more full than yours, giving him a look while taking the glass from his hands and having a seat on the other side of the bed. The TV has some weird local show on, looked like some crappy reality TV show but you didn’t have much time to care. You take a small sip of the wine and place the glass on the bedside table to your right.

“Mind passing me my laptop, please,”

Harry nods, swallowing a rather large sip of his wine before leaning over and grabbing your laptop that was sitting upon the other bedside table. You open it up and log in while Harry begins to eat and steak and chips he ordered for himself. Just as you open up some emails and the online order for the couch, you reach over and steal a chip.

“Hey!” Harry shouts. You chuckle and chew it up with a smile.

“Okay, you mentioned a dark fabric sofa but I think a white one would look much better with the interior design you have going back in your LA home,” you explain, clicking a few tabs open to show him the options you had found.

“I like that one,” Harry comments, touching your screen with his dirty fingers as he leans over and looks at the sofas.

“Me too,” you nod.

It was an ‘older fashion’ compared to the other more modern ones you had chosen for him to pick from. It was sort of funny, you were thinking of ordering the matching chair to the sofa he had picked for your own apartment - too bad your current apartment was small and crowded and so not your favourite. It was about time you started looking for a new place actually. Suppose it would have to wait till after the tour.

The two of you sit in your bed, chatting about how Harry felt the last few shows had went. You had noticed he was a bit more cheery with his fans, which was something you gave him praise for. Harry finishes the bottle of wine before you even get a second glass, it doesn’t entirely surprise you. But what does surprise you is how much you’re actually enjoying hanging out with Harry.

“You know the fans are going to go nuts for Stockholm Syndrome tomorrow night,” you say.

“Should I tease them a little bit? Say we’re goin’ to sing a different song, tell ‘em we forgot the cords,” Harry smiles.

“Oh God, they’d lose their minds,” you chuckle and sit up again while adjusting the laptop in your lap.

“They’d have my arse I think,” Harry says, bringing the last of his red wine to his stained lips, “maybe I’ll put the blame on you, point out where you’re standing so they attack you and not me,”

“You’re fans adore me, they’d never believe your crap,”

“You’re right,” Harry sighs, “they do really like you,”

“They haven’t always,”

“God, remember when that whole drama with you and I dating,” Harry laughs.

You chuckle, “then there was literal magazine spreads about me seeing Zayn behind your back. God, every media outlet was running with some wild ideas, then I finally told the manager to suck it and tweeted about it all,”

“You almost got fired,” Harry recalls.

“And yet, here I am,” you say. Harry smiles too, nodding his head before finishing off his wine completely.

“You’re welcome,” Harry smirks. “I went to Modest and told them if they fired you I’d be more of a public mess than usual,”

“Oh, my drunk knight in shining Gucci,” you joke, causing the both of you to erupt into a fit of laughter. Harry’s holding his stomach with both hands, eyes crinkled tight as he howls away in laughter. You quite literally have to wipe away tears that formed at your eyes. It wasn’t really that funny, but it was most definitely one of those ‘i’m laughing harder cause you’re laughing harder’. And to be completely honest, you really liked Harry’s laugh.

Once you two finally stop laughing, you continue to talk a bit more about the tour. You inform him how much the fans want Medicine and Anna to be released, Harry just kinda shrugs but has a smug look on his face as he leans back on the headboard of your hotel bed. After a few more moments, you start to realize Harry’s mumbling his responses a bit. Glancing over, you see his eyelids shut.

“Harry, maybe it’s time you went to your room,” you say softly.

“Yeah,” he hums.

Harry reached into his left front pocket of his trousers first. Then into his right front pocket. You look away from your phone to see he’s got a frown on his face while lifting his hips and searching both his back pockets, pulling out his wallet to check it too. When he curses under his breath, you sigh and drop your phone onto your lap.

“I don’t have my room key,” he states.

“It’s too late, the front desk is closed already,” you exclaim, glancing at the red numbers reading it was well past midnight - seems time slipped by your two while you go chatting.

“Uh-”

“Just stay here tonight, it’s fine,” you cut him off, sighing while getting out of the bed. You’re facing away from him, towards the open curtains of your room that shows the night lights of downtown Stockholm, and reach up to stretch out your back after being hunched over looking at your laptop so much. As a cool breeze hits the back of your thighs, you realize the sweater hiked up a bit more than you would’ve liked to - there was no doubt Harry was enjoying the little show he had gotten. You bring your arms back down quick and walk over to the bathroom.

After you’re done brushing your teeth and washing your face of any makeup left from today, you stare at your reflection in the mirror for a moment while deep in thought. Harry actually wasn’t half bad tonight. Barely any rude comments and you managed to bring bad a smile anytime his bad attitude showed up. Now tonight you’d grab the small extra blanket and keep your distance while he slept beside you. Easy, right...

Suddenly there’s a knock on the bathroom door, followed by Harry, “are you almost done in there?” he asks, his voice surprisingly not bothered at all. You open the door and reveal him leaning against the frame, eyes flickering back up from the floor to meet your eyes. Queue the twist and turns in your stomach.

“There’s an extra tooth brush in the drawer, I believe,” you say.

“Okay, thanks,” Harry nods. You smile, walk passed him and get into bed.

Why were you so nervous all of a sudden? It was just Harry. Who was kinda your boss and was the biggest man whore you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. You let out a deep breath and bring the blankets up to your chin. Maybe if you got all comfy and tried to fall asleep before Harry got back to the bed it’d be easier to ignore the fact he was here all together. Or maybe you could actually act your age and not like some virgin school girl.

Harry exits the bathroom, turning off the lights as he walks by so it’s just the lamp lit up now. Your stomach does another twist as the bed sinks under his weight after a few moments. Then the blanket is being yanked away, torn from your hands till it’s just barely over your torso.

“Hey,” you grumble.

“Don’t tell me you’re a bloody blanket hog,” Harry scolds. You roll your eyes and turn your head to look his way, seeing him snuggled right up under the blanket.

“M’not a bloody blanket hog,” you state, “but you sure are,” you add under your breath. Harry lets out the blanket enough for you to cover up your body.

“No, m’not,” Harry argues back.

“Goodnight, Grumpy,” you mutter back, too tired to fight with him. Seems his bad attitude was back just in time. You turn your back to him and close your eyes, hearing the sound of him turning off the lamp. Harry turns in the bed, not touching you though, a handful of times before he’s letting out a soft chuckle.

“What?” you question. You know he’s smirking or something, you just know it.

“Just trying to remember the last time I shared a bed with a woman and hadn’t fucked her,” he exclaims. You roll your eyes, glancing at the clock quick to distract you from any other thoughts that popped into your head.

“Such a romantic,” you say.

“Shut up,” Harry grunts.

“Grumpy,” you mutter under your breath.

Then you both go quiet again and thankfully it doesn’t take too much time before you’re fast asleep. But then you’re dreaming. Vividly actually. You’re in the dressing room, laying on the sofa with your eyes closed and at first you seem like you’re trying to sleep. But then your lips part, a small whimper falling from your throat and your fists gasp onto the first thing they can as the sensational feeling runs through your veins. Your fists find someones hair, thick and soft to your touch. You feel someones warm tongue between your slick folds, lapping at your wetness and flicking over your sensitive clit over and over again.

“Oh, God, yes,” you moan aloud, gripping at their hair some more as your body arches into their touch.

“Not God, love, close though,” their deep voice vibrates against your sex. Your eyes spring open at the sound of his voice - Harry’s voice. Looking down you see it’s his brown curly locks in your hands and his face between your legs. His green eyes meet yours, lips curling up into a smirk before he dips back down to rapidly lap at your wetness again.

He sure does know what he’s doing. Tongue moving quick till your body arches off the sofa again and your moans echo off the walls of the dressing room. It feels so good. Maybe even too good. Harry abruptly stokes a finger at your entrance. Not moving for a moment before his finger plunges into you, causing a high pitched gasp to fall from your lips. He’s not starting off gentle, he is slamming his finger into you right till the cool feel of his ring touches your skin. You’re almost blown away by his attention to your clit while fingering you. It’s bringing you closer and close to a release.

“Keep going, please, please- Harry,” you beg with your eyes screwed shut. Your stomach bubbles before your legs begin to shudder, the wetness between them gets worse with your release.

You’re body melts into the sofa after the orgasm stops. Then your eyes open open once again as you feel Harry move over top of you. His green ones are full of lust, lips in a smug look before his lips wrap around his finger that is slick with your cum. There’s no denying how fucking sexy it is though, the way he groans afterwards causes your stomach to flutter.

“Always knew you’d taste so sweet,” Harry purrs before leaning down to latch his lips to yours.

But just before he can kiss you, your eyes flutter open from the sunlight hitting them just right. You squint, bringing an arm up to block the morning sun, then just as your about to turn away you realize you can’t exactly. There’s a heavy arm draped over your waist, hand curled into your sweater so tight you really can’t move. Your eyes widen, unaware of when Harry had gotten so close during the night.

“Holy fuck, your feet are freezing,” Harry utters suddenly. His voice hoarse as he’s just waking up. You then realize that his bare legs are against yours, your ankles tangled together.

“Where did your damn trousers go?” you question a little more harsh than necessary. Harry rolls his eyes and brings his arm back to his side.

“You’re not wearing any either,” he mutters.

“Whatever,” you say. Just then, as you move your legs away from his, you realize how wet you are between your thighs. You swallow hard and are quick to jump out of the bed. “I’m showering,” you state before quickly making your way into the bathroom and swiftly closing the door behind you before Harry could utter another word.

The water is hot, nearly burning your skin as you stand under the stream entirely too long. You’ve washed your hair and was just standing there now, thinking about the dream you had. The way his mouth felt against your sex, the warm breath from his nostrils while his tongue did magic you swore. If that was a dream, you couldn’t imagine what the real damn thing had you feeling like. You jerk as your own hand makes contact between your thighs. You can’t help it, the mere thought of your dream has you itching to be touched. Thankfully you know your body well, and there’s this one spot on your clit that if you have just a bit of pressure and rub circles frantically you...

Not any longer than a minute later and you’re coming undone. Your bud sensitive to your own touch so quickly that you have to slip your hand away before your knees buckle and you’re falling in the shower. Knowing you’re taking much too long, you quickly wash your body with your lavender soap and turn off the water before stepping out of the shower.

You’ve got the white fluffy towel wrapped tightly around your body after you dried yourself off a bit. Staring into the steamed up mirror, you are shaking your head at yourself. There wasn’t going to be a real thing. Harry wasn’t ever going to touch you like that. And you shouldn’t be standing here wishing he would.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath as you realize you had rushed into the bathroom so fast you didn’t grab any clean clothes.

There was no way you were going to step back into your dirty clothes and defeating the whole purpose of you having a shower to begin with. So you took a deep breath, pushed back whatever stupid nerves you had about Harry being in your room still, and walked out of the bathroom.

“Yeh really couldn’t shut the curtains-” Harry’s words get lost in his throat as he sits up in bed and sees you standing there in a towel. His eyes are wide for only a second before he’s smugness takes over. “Forget ya clothes, love?” he asks, in which you instantly roll your eyes at him.

“No, I was going for a new look,” you joke, turning around to open your suitcase that’s sitting on top of the dresser.

“Well,” Harry pauses, “I quite like the new look then,”

You have the white t-shirt you’re planning to wear in your hands, clenching the fabric as you literally have to pause and inhale deeply while your thoughts go off again. Swallowing back the lump in your throat, you make sure you’re got underwear and a bra before reaching for some black jeans. You were running out of clothes already it seems, and you seriously hated doing laundry.

“Get up, we’ve got to head to the arena soon and I’m starving,” you order before holding your towel with one hand and your clothes in the other. Harry’s eyes dart to the items in your hand, but you’re moving too fast into the bathroom again.

You hope that Harry’s up and going as you finish getting ready, putting on some perfume just before you hear someone pounding on your hotel room door. Your brows furrow together in confusion. Who in the world could be knocking on your door this early in the morning? Well, besides someone from the crew but with such urgency? You open the bathroom door when you hear Harry answer the room door.

“What the-”

“God, no, it’s not like that!” You shout immediately as you met Jeff’s narrowed eyes.

“Please explain to me why he’s standing here in his underwear, and you’re getting out of the shower,” Jeff fumes at the both of you, stepping inside of your room to shut the hotel room door behind him for privacy. You see Harry roll his eyes then he steps back and walks away from the situation entirely.

“We were just hanging out last night talking work stuff, it got late, and then Harry realized he lost his room key and the front desk was already closed for the night,” you explained, “he slept here, on the other side of the bed,” you add, peering back over your shoulder to see Harry jumping into his trousers. Harry’s gaze meets yours, eyebrows lifted as you tell Jeff a slight lie.

“Right,” Jeff says.

“It’s the truth, Jeff, don’t really care if you believe it or not,” Harry huffs and walks up towards the two of you. “I’m bloody starving, can we go eat now,”

Harry doesn’t wait for either of you two to answer, reaching for the door handle and ripping open the door to walk out of the room. Seems Grumpy was bad in full force this morning. You sigh, giving Jeff one last look, before grabbing your purse and room key from the small desk and walking out of your room with Jeff behind you.

“Get his new room key before we leave for the arena,” Jeff says just as you two are approaching Grumpy who’s staring at his phone waiting for the elevator.

“Yes, of course, had planned on it,” you mutter out. The three of you step into the elevator then as it arrives.

Harry looks up and catches your gaze. You’re tongue sticks out to quickly wet your slightly chapped lips - noting you have to stop into a close by shop and buy some chapstick. Maybe Harry needs some too. You can’t help as the thought crosses your mind and your eyes fall down to look at his lips. It only takes a second before they’re curling upwards just a bit into a smirk. You look back up and meet his gaze, glaring at him as he keeps the smug look upon his face. What was even happening between you two? All you did was share a bed last night and now you’re looking at his damn lips, ugh.

⏤

“Wow that looks unreal,” you say in awe while looking at your phone screen.

“I can’t even describe the big this crowd is, Y/N, like I can’t see the end of it,” your friend, Miles, tells you as he lifts his phone up again and shows you the sea of people in DC. You’re in utter awe of it all, jealous of your good friend as he gets to be such a part of history in this March for Our Lives back in DC.

“I wish I was there,” you groan dramatically while bringing the phone close to your mouth. Miles chuckles, showing his face once more. “Also I seriously miss you,” you add with a smile.

“I miss you too, you’ve been away for like way too long,” he says.

“I know, and I won’t be back in LA till after Ireland and that’s in like a month,” you pout your lips. Miles mirrors your pout before his gaze switches to the crowd around him again. “You’re vlogging this right? Cause I need to see this footage,” you say.

“Of course I am, this is going to make a great video with an even better message,”

“All your vids have a great message, Miles,” you smile.

“Thanks,” he grins before flipping the camera back around to the crowd as they start up another chant. You actually got chills, way over here in Germany.

“Y/N-” you turn at the sound of Harry’s voice, seeing him enter the dressing room. He’s still got an hour till showtime, which he’s spent with Jeff doing something you can’t exactly remember right now. Harry’s brows furrow at the sight of you FaceTiming someone. He walks up behind where you sat on the sofa and peers at the screen. “Is that DC?” he asks.

“Yup,” you nod, watching him as he stares at the screen.

“That’s unreal,” Harry breathes out, repeating the same words you had just said.

“Miles, say hi to Harry,” you say to your friend. Miles stutters on a word before the camera is being flipped and you see his bright wide eyes. Sure, all your friends were aware that you worked for Harry Styles but that didn’t mean they were cool with the fact. Didn’t matter how much you bitched about his bad attitude, your friends were all swooning over him just like the rest of the world.

“Harry, hey, wow, uh congratulations of the tour and the year you’ve had man,” Miles beams. He honestly looks so cute through the grainy phone, he’s got you smiling - while Harry’s straight faced and gives him one nod.

“Thanks, and congrats on being apart of history,” Harry says.

“Wow, thanks, yeah it’s great here,” Miles replies.

Harry turns to look at you now, which makes you look his way too, “hang up your phone and let’s actually get to work,” he grumbles and walks off towards the three suits for tonight.

“Sorry about that,” you say closer to the phone while rolling yours eyes.

“It’s fine, cool actually,” Miles says.

“I have to go now, but keep filming and send me some footage later when you get the chance,” you smile. Miles says his goodbyes and you’re ending the call sadly before standing from the sofa.

Harry’s scowling at the suits, shoving them around roughly and barely looking at them it seems. Or else he’d notice how great the red Givenchy suit with the black shirt with white embellishments on either side of the buttons really truly was. You had actually forgotten about it, it had been an option in Paris earlier this month but you were so in love with the sparkly YSL suit to even care. But now, this red suit was everything.

“Miles your boyfriend?” Harry asks all of a sudden.

Your head snaps up, looking at him with your brows pulled together. Harry only asks you maybe once a year if you were still single or not. But never had it sounded so... jealous? Or were you actually going crazy after that stupid sex dream.

“Miles is my friend,” you answer, “what suit are you leaning towards?” you ask, clearing your throat.

“Uh, the red one,” he says while grabbing the hanger off the rack.

“Good, I like that one,”

“Should I go for the white boots too?” Harry asks, his voice more soft than before. You smile and bend down to pick them up, admiring the Givenchy boots that weren’t even on the runway yet - cause that’s the power Harry has in the fashion world nowadays. You remember when his tour wardrobe consisted of black jeans and black t-shirts to match. “What’re yeh grinning at?” Harry asks, eyebrows furrowed while his own lips twitched upwards.

“Just thinkin’ about your outfits for the Take Me Home tour. I wasn’t really around for wardrobe bits involving you, but I packed a lot of it up I remember,” you explain.

“You weren’t really ‘round much back then, kinda hid out from the boys and I,” Harry states while he focuses on taking the suit off the hanger. You smile and take the metal wire from him as he hands it your way.

“I’ve changed since then, was a bit more nervous, didn’t really understand all this stuff,” you admit.

“And now you’re a boss at it all,” Harry says, smiling a little while unbuttoning the shirt he currently had on.

“Someone has to tell your ass off,”

Harry doesn’t respond or chuckle, which causes you to glance away from the wardrobe rack and to him. He’s staring at you, lips still tugging just slightly upwards, and he’s shirtless now. It’s a sight to behold really. The strange tattoos and the bit of chest hair he’s got. And his tummy, it’s actually kinda cute. But then there’s the v line and the trail of hair that makes your head all kinds of dizzy. You find yourself checking Harry out, snapping yourself out of it before he can make some snide comment. You’re rather surprised he’s not, and there’s no smirk on his lips either as you look at his face. He’s licking his lips, eyes roaming your body. Unlike your usual outfits, you’re dressing in your best pair of black jeans - showing off your ass of course, and a rather tight ‘March for Our Lives’ shirt because Sarah wanted the slightly bigger size and the small fit you fine. Overall, you weren’t going to downplay yourself cause you looked pretty good.

“You’re the only person I’d let tell my ass off,” Harry states, eyes finding yours once more. You’re blushing, you have to be, while the palm of your hands are getting sweaty too.

“What are you ever going to do without me?” you question, humming afterwards while giving Harry a smile.

He chuckles, slipping his arms into the black Givenchy shirt. As he’s buttoning it up, you find your eyes trailing each movement and that’s your queue to walk away. You make your way to the sofa once more, grabbing your tea that you had forgotten about and taking a sip to find it’s cold. You frown at the styrofoam cup and huff while taking a seat on the sofa.

While waiting for Harry to get ready, you sit there and overthink - as per usual. Ever since Stockholm things have been a little bit different between yourself and Harry. He’s been a bit more chirpy than usual. Happier maybe? But definitely still as Grumpy as ever. Like the shameless looking that had just taken place, there’s been more questionable things and motions happening. He’s let up his flirtatious side with you a little, but still giving you a bit of attitude after to make it less awkward you suppose. And the sex dreams, well of course those haven’t gone away. Just last night you dreamt of Harry fucking you in that hotel bed in Stockholm. The dirty thoughts cause you to shake your head just as Harry sits down next to you on the sofa.

“Tell Lambert what suit I’m wearing?” Harry asks.

“Yep,” you nod.

“Gonna watch the show tonight or nap again?” Harry questions, leaning back into the sofa and throwing both his arms across the back of the sofa.

“Did you want me to watch the show?”

Harry keeps his lips tight, looking at the small coffee table before they flicker over to meet yours. There’s something different about his look, something a bit softer and more welcoming than other times. You give him a small smile and lean your head back against the sofa - to be honest, you could use a nap after last nights late night with the girls here in Germany. To sum it up, Clare could handle more beer than you thought she could but you could out drink them all.

“I mean, I like having everyone out there supporting me,” Harry shrugs, “but if you need some sleep, just come see me off and watch Only Angel. I know it’s your favourite,” he says.

“I’m really starting to love The Chain,” you state.

“Then come back for The Chain,” Harry shrugs.

You smile, “have I ever told you how much my dad loves Fleetwood Mac? He wanted to marry Stevie for the longest time, even after he married my mom,” you say, chuckling afterwards at the memory.

“So you grew up listening to them?”

“Yup, and The Eagles a lot too,”

“Me too, my dad quite liked them both,” Harry states. You hum out in response, smiling at the fact you two were talking about someone other than work. Harry turns his head, matching how you were leaning back against the sofa. “Could you imagine, Stevie Nicks being your mum?” He says.

“She basically is your second mum!” You chuckle, reaching over to smack his arm lightly. “I’m still not over meeting her twice last year, she even remembered me the second time it was crazy,”

“Why wouldn’t she remember you?” Harry questions. You can feel there’s more he wants to say, it’s almost like you can see the wheels in his head moving as he licks his lips. Just then someone’s knocking on the door, Jeff opens it up and pops his head in. You make the move to get up first as you already knew it was close to show time. And Harry’s plan wasn’t so bad, you’d walk down to ‘stage right’ enjoy Only Angel and maybe Woman and then come back till the end of the show.

“Hey,” you call out to Harry right before he’s stepping to the stairs to get on stage. He turns back around and meets your gaze. “Have fun out there, and keep up with the birthday thing they’re eating that right up,” you tell him with a smile. Harry mirrors your small smile and nods as you reach out and fix his suit jacket. “Break a leg,” you add before shooing him off.

No one could wipe that grin off Harry’s face even if you tried. The moment Only Angel starts up, Harry’s prancing around the stage and hyping up the crowd like always. You can’t help but smile as you watch him, singing along yourself and swaying you hips to the beat - no matter how many times you watched this show, you’d always enjoy it.

“He seems more cheery tonight,” Jeff says, leaning towards you in order to not completely shout over the music.

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” you agree.

“Look, I don’t know what you’re doing but keep doing it,”

“I don’t know what I’m doing either,” you shrug. And it was the complete truth. Sure one night you two shared a bed, and things have been less snappy between you both since then, but otherwise you aren’t entirely sure it’s because of you that Harry’s been less of an ass lately. But hey, you’ll take the credit if it means you’re in Jeff’s good books again.

⏤

Spain was hot. And you weren’t exactly feeling the best either, so the heat wasn’t doing you any good. You typically loved the summer time and the sun on your skin, it was nice. But not when you had this dumb flu that has been making your head pound and your nose run for the past 24 hours now. Through the years of touring with One Direction, you knew it was best to just lay in bed and sleep away the sickness. Too bad Harry had a different idea.

“Get out of bed,” he grunts.

“How the hell did you get into my room?” you ask, brows wound tight as you peer over your blanket to see him standing at the foot of your bed with his arms crossed.

“Told the front desk I needed a key,” he shrugs.

“Abusing your power I see,” you mumble before bringing the blanket back over your head in hopes Harry would get the idea and leave. But of course, he doesn’t. Instead he tugs on the blanket and you have to keep a death grip with both of your hands in order to keep yourself covered. “I’m only in a sports bra, prick,” you snarl at him.

“Got no pants on, huh? Sleep naked when you’re not sharing a bed?” Harry questions you, smirking of course.

“No, you idiot, I’m wearing shorts too,”

“This is besides the point, get out of bed,” Harry orders you again.

“No,”

“Now, come on,” Harry tries again.

“No, seriously, go away,” you bark at him. Harry tugs the blanket again and you really want to scream at him but you’re not feeling up to it honestly. You sigh and lay there on your back, not even caring about the fact Harry’s seeing you in your sports bra right now - it was like a bathing suit, right?

“Funny,” Harry snorts, you turn your head and see him smiling, “the roles are reversed for once,” he states.

“At least there’s not a strange man in my bed you have to deal with too,” you say, rolling your eyes while sitting up and throwing your legs over the side of the mattress till your feet hit the ground. Harry doesn’t respond, just chews at his bottom lip like he’s in thought or something. You sniffle and end up laying back down on the mattress while pouting.

“Almost made it,” Harry sighs.

“M’sick, what else can you expect from me?”

“I expect that you’re willing to push through it since we’re all getting out of the hotel and doing something today,” Harry exclaims. You let out a long groan, rolling over to grab a tissue and blow your nose. “Cute,” Harry mumbles.

“Shut up,” you say while sitting back up again.

“Now look who’s the grumpy one,” Harry snickers. You roll your eyes and stand up, walking passed him to get to where your suitcase was laying open. Harry turns around, watching you as you’re trying to find something acceptable to wear out in this heat.

“You,” you sigh, “you’re always going to be Grumpy,”

“Meh, today’s been an alright day. Woke up earlier than I needed to, went down and got breakfast with Mitch and Adam, and then the others joined us and Jeff told me about this art museum here,” Harry explains his morning thus far to you. It’s honestly rather surprising, you couldn’t recall the last time Harry had been up before you and even had breakfast with any of the band. You furrow your brows and turn back around, leaning against the dresser while crossing your arms at your chest. He has taken a seat upon your unmade bed now, still watching you.

“You didn’t drink last night? Didn’t have any whores here in Barcelona?” You question him.

Harry shakes his head, “only had some wine with Sarah and Mitch in their room, watched a rom com, and then went to sleep in my own bed,”

“Are you becoming a changed man, Grumpy?” you tease.

This earns you an eye roll from Harry right away. You only snicker under your breath and turn back around to grab the thin black tank top that you’d plan to wear with some high wasted jean shorts and some sneakers. Hopefully you wouldn’t die out in the heat with this outfit.

“Okay, get out, I need to change,” you say, shooing at Harry but he doesn’t move an inch - only give you a bigger smirk than before.

“What, no show today? Quite like the towel bit,” he jokes.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not a changed man,” you mumble to yourself mostly. But Harry hears you and scowls. “Seriously, I’ll text whoever and meet you all downstairs,”

“You know I have a key right, I’ll come right back in so don’t even think about layin’ back down,”

“Yeah, speaking of, give me the room card,” you order him, flipping your hand palm up for him to give you the key. Harry only smirks again, digging into his front pocket and handing you the key. “I won’t go back to sleep, I might travel with a handful of tissues but you’ve got me up now, congrats,”

“Grumpy,” Harry chuckles before walking out of your room finally.

Barcelona was beautiful. You had been here twice before while touring with One Direction actually, but had never really gotten the chance to look around the city itself. Now, as you stood outside under the sun and looked up at the art installation you were really glad Harry had gotten you up this morning. You sniffle some more, walking up beside Clare as you take in more of the museum. She’s telling you about the night she and Helene had last night, making sure she tells you a million times how much you were missed though. But you assure her you had a good night sleep.

“Oh there’s some fans,” Clare says just above a whisper. You look up from the ground and see she’s right. There’s a handful of them all standing together waiting for Harry, who’s walking just in front of you with two bodyguards by his side.

“Let’s hope this doesn’t go wrong and I don’t have to step in today,” you say. There’s been times when Harry’s bad attitude reflects horribly towards some awaiting fans and you literally have to step in and try to make the situation better. With your sickness, you really didn’t want to today.

“Harry,” the fans thick accents can’t be missed while they grin at Harry.

“Hi,” he says, giving them a smile.

“Can I get a picture?” One asks, handing off her phone to another fan before Harry even gets to answer. And he doesn’t, he just stands beside her and gives the camera a thumbs up before giving her a quick goodbye and looking to the next fan. A girl wearing a jean jacket, how in this heat you don’t know, comes up to Harry next and asks for an autograph. It’s all really sweet, Harry’s not acting out or scowling at them, so you step by the whole ordeal and step back a few feet with one of the bodyguards while waiting for him.

“Y/N?” Clare calls out.

“You go on, I’ll wait,” you say, because you always did - mostly to be ready to do your job and do any damage control. The girls just nod and go on towards the awaiting van.

“Can we do a group photo, I’ve just got people waiting now,” Harry says, pointing his thumb to where you stood off by Miller, Harry’s number one bodyguard through all these years you’ve known him.

The fans all agreed and things went smoothly, they had grins upon their faces as they wave frantically when Harry begins to walk away from the group of them. Miller steps behind him, arm outreached to protect him in case any fans got any crazy ideas but thankfully none of them did and you stepped beside Harry easily while walking towards the van. You nudge him with your elbow, causing him to look your way instead of at the ground.

“Good job, made that easy,” you noted.

“I’ve been doing this for quite a while, Y/N, I know how to handle a few fans,” he says. You roll your eyes.

“Somedays aren’t as easy as that was,”

“Whatever,”

“Whatever,” you mock him, stepping up into the van without giving him another look. Suppose it was your fault he was giving you attitude, maybe you just should’ve stayed quiet and kept your thoughts to yourself.

The van ride is filled with everyone giving their opinion on what you had all just seen. You were keeping quiet, eyes shut as another headache started up. Although this day was pretty great and you loved everything you saw and learnt here in Barcelona, you just wanted to be back in your hotel room and get some more sleep even. So that’s what you did, upon arriving back to the hotel you gave everyone a quiet goodbye and excluded yourself from the group while making your way back to your room.

Not even an hour later and there’s knocking at your door. You groan to yourself, hoping you don’t have to argue with Harry about how you’re not going out for whatever dinner they had planned tonight. You just couldn’t muster up the energy to be completely real. But when you open the door and reveal room service, your brows pull together.

“I didn’t order anything,” you say.

“This was ordered for you, ma’am,” she says, so you step back and let them push in the cart before she leave your room again. You’re rather confused, looking at the aray of things on the cart. Soup, chips, iced water, a bottle of Advil and a entire pot of tea. Then you notice the small note beside the tea pot.

��feel better love -Harry’

You are smiling so much your cheeks hurt, while your stomach is doing that familiar twisting thing it’s been doing a lot lately - every time because of Harry of course. This was so stupid of you. To feel this way about Harry. It was stupid and reckless and you couldn’t seem to do a thing about it cause he kept doing stupid things like this. He was talking to you more about personal things, about life and his feelings and it wasn’t helping you at all either. But you had to keep it professional, you had to step back and think for a minute. Did you really have feelings for Harry?

⏤

You had taken a moment, staring at the large table here at Osteria Francescana, and thought about where you were going to take a seat at this extravagant dinner with some people from Gucci. When Jeff told you you were joining him and Harry, you were a little shocked but then snapped into shape and got yourself ready. Wearing your trusty Balenciaga boots, some black high wasted wide legged Gucci pants, and a pink floral printed long sleeve shirt that wasn’t Gucci because you could only afford so much high fashion clothing items. With your hair pulled back into a tight bun, you were rather impressed with yourself for getting so glammed up in a hotel room.

“Il tuo ristorante è molto carino,” you say to the owner who’s sitting at the head of the table. You decided that assuming Jeff wanted you here for your Italian, you take the free seat beside him and across from Harry.

“Tu parli italiano?” he questions.

“Sì, da quando ero un bambino,” you smile. You could thank your grandparents on your mothers side for the lessons in Italian. They were very clear from your infant days that they wanted you to know their mother tongue, so they taught you and it’s stuck ever since.

“Is she telling you all my dirty secrets?” Harry questions from where he sat, lips tugging into a smile as you meet his gaze.

“I’m just letting him know how lovely this place is, and that I learnt Italian when I was young. From my grandparents,” you explain, saying the last bit while looking to the owner again.

“Qual era il tuo nome di nuovo?” he asks, smiling at you.

“Y/N,” you answer.

“Ah, it’s so lovely to meet you my dear,” he says, switching back to English for everyone else’s sake you supposed.

The dinner was going amazing, the staff was fantastic and the meal was probably the best you’ve ever had. Everything was great till Harry started to scowl across from you, unsure of why exactly. Someone must’ve said something to tick him off, or maybe he didn’t like the meal he was served. Regardless his bad attitude wasn’t about to ruin this. You kick out your foot and make contact with his shin, he screws up his face and glares at you.

“Hey, m’wearing this suit tomorrow, don’t fuck it up,” he growls. You narrow your eyes at him for the harsh language in front of so many important people.

“Outfit repeater, huh?” you tease him. Yeah, teasing wasn’t the way to go. Harry scowls at you, something you hadn’t seen in a while. You sink back into your seat, watching Harry across from you to try and figure out what’s got him so in his head. But then the waiter that’s been waiting on your table shows up again, leaning over you slightly to fill up your water cup. You smile, looking up to meet the sweet blue eyes of the rather cute Italian young man.

“Nient'altro signora?” he asks softly.

You’re blushing, you just know it, “no, I’m okay,” you reply.

Once the waiter has moved on, you bring your water to your lips and look back across the table. Harry’s scowl hadn’t left his face, in fact it might’ve even gotten harder. You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. This dinner was amazing, incredible and a huge step for his career and yet all he can do it sit there downing his drinks and scowl at everything and everyone around him. Speaking of those drinks, Harry finishes off another glass of whatever liquor he’s been ordering - and of course he catches the waiter just in time to order another.

“Hey,” you whisper shout to Harry as the owner was getting up, mentioning something about dessert in Italian under his breath.

“What?” Harry grunts.

“Slow down on the drinks, you’ve had like triple anyone else has,” you exclaim. Harry only glares at you. “Stop, I’m just doing my job-”

“Well fuck off,” he grumbles, looking away from you and down at his phone screen. You blink a few times, thrown off by his attitude since it’s been a while since he’s been so bluntly rude to you. Taking a deep breath, you have another sip of water and look off down the table to see Jeff staring at you. He needs you to step up again, to get Harry to relax and quit drinking so much.

But you can’t. No matter the amount of kicking of his shine or glaring you do, Harry ignores you scowls and drinks more and more. Finally when it’s time to leave you can tell he’s trying to get ahold of someone. You’re sitting in the seat behind him, reading briefly how he’s getting ahold of some Italian girl to warm his bed tonight. You lean back in your seat and stare out the window as it feels like someone’s punching you in the gut. This was why you shouldn’t have gotten inside of your own head this past little while, thinking all about how nice it would be if Harry maybe felt the same way you were - but after tonight and seeing him text some floozy, it’s obvious he could never.

⏤

You were having a bad day. Since the moment you woke up, ignoring Jeff request to get Harry up, you haven’t been having the best of days. You had forgotten about doing laundry so all you had to wear were the same Gucci high waisted black pants from last night - which makes you feel hypocritical since you bugged Harry about being an outfit repeater. Plus all you could think about was how you managed to let your feelings get in the way of your work.

So after eating something at catering with Clare and Helene, you ended up wandering the hallways. Jeff comes into view as you get close to backstage. He’s glaring, which makes you slightly nervous as you approach him.

“Harry’s locked himself in the dressing room,” he states, “I don’t care if there’s a half naked lady or red wine staining those stupid Gucci pillows of his, get in there and get him going,”

“Yeah,” you pause and nod, “okay, uh, yeah,” you mumble, turning around and slowly making your way towards the dressing room. You’re taking your time, nervous of what you’re about to get yourself into. Because you’re not entirely sure your heart can handle it after the past 24 hours.

You’re pulling gently at the tour shirt you tucked into your pants. Kicking out your sneakers against the pavement floors up till you get to the looming door to the dressing room. Maybe you could just pound on the door, yell something and then run away like a little baby. You roll your eyes at yourself and lift your fist up to knock on the door. It was time to act your age, push away any and all feelings for Harry, and do your damn job.

“Harry,” you say loudly with your face right up by the door. He doesn’t answer. “Harry, open the door,” you try again.

You sigh in defeat. This was ridiculous, the show started in less than two hours and you knew he wouldn’t be getting ready in there by himself. He was probably getting drunk, or maybe he wasn’t alone at all and had found himself some hot blonde who worked at the arena. You find yourself frowning at the thought. You sigh again before bringing your fist to the door and knocking.

“Grumpy, hello, open up,” you groan, growing rather tired of this already.

Again no answer. You press your ear to the door, hesitate at first because if he really did find someone who worked here to have a quick fuck you weren’t going to like hearing that at all. But there’s nothing. It’s like he’s not even in there. You take a deep breath and reach for the handle, maybe Harry had left since Jeff checked up on him. But of course you’re wrong as you jiggle the knob and it doesn’t open.

“Harry, seriously!” You shout this time, not caring about the few looks you get from crew members passing by.

Then without any warning, the dressing room door opens and you’re being pulled into the room by Harry’s large hands. His one hand stays glued to your arm while the other shuts the door behind the both of you, he pushes you back till your back hits the door. You furrow your brows and stare up at Harry, meeting his wild green eyes. There’s barely a breath from either of you before he’s leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss brings a warmth over your entire body. You feel like your chest is going to explode from the feeling you get. It only takes you maybe half a second before your brain kicks in and both your hands are tangled up in Harry’s hair while your lips move with his. Harry’s lips are hot against yours but it felt too good to stop. Next thing you know his teeth graze your bottom lip, causing you to open your mouth and let him slip his tongue in. Your getting dizzy now, grasping onto his shoulder hard while his hands feel cold against your warn skin, having made their back under your skirt and drawing up and down your back. You’re so in the moment, enjoying this way too much, but then it hits you.

“Harry,” you breath out his name, pushing back his shoulder just a bit so his lips move further away from yours. “We shouldn’t,” you add in a low voice.

“No, we shouldn’t,” Harry agrees, his words hot on your skin. But then he’s moving back towards your face again and your stomach is doing those god damn twists and turns. You practically melt into him as his hand firmly presses your hips into his, leaving your head to lean back into the door again as he kisses you.

Harry’s hand lifts up to your jaw, thumb resting gently on your chin as he tips your head further upwards while he puts every bit of energy he must have into this kiss. You have never been kissed like this. Such urgency and desire, all while his touch makes you feel light inside. You breath out deeply through your nose, running a hand from his temple all the way through his hair. He’s massaging your hip when you finally snap out of the exhilarating kiss.

You move so quickly, pushing away his arms and stepping into the middle of the dressing room. It takes you a moment to catch your breath, your hand absentmindedly moving to your lips to just graze over them - they felt like they were vibrating. A million thoughts are running through your mind, the biggest one being what the hell just happened...

“Last night, you - you slept with some whore and now you think you can just come onto me like this?” you bellowed. You had hoped your voice came out sounding less weak than you were feeling right about now.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone last night,” Harry states. His voice sounding closer while you hear his boots smacking against the floor, softening as they meet the carpet you’re currently standing on.

“What the hell, Harry?” you hiss, turning on your heels to see he’s only an arms reach away.

He looks as bewildered as you felt. His hair flipped to the left, a large piece falling over his forehead while the rest all stuck out funny. But of course he made it work. Those stupid green eyes are soft, there’s no scowl or glare or anything like you were so used to. You swallow back the lump in your throat and lick your lips as your eyes fall down to his - why did you want to feel them against yours again so desperately?

“You were acting out last night, you were a proper asshole to me last night,” you say.

“Last night,” Harry begins, his voice louder now, “it all fucking hit me like a damn truck, Y/N. You were flirting with that waiter right in front of me and speaking Italian to him and I got fucking jealous,”

You’re chewing on your bottom lip as you take in each word Harry had just said. He was jealous. He was jealous over you. And now he kissed you. Harry kissed you. You blink rapidly at him as your brain was an utter mess. Then your gaze meets the floor as you try to think of what you’re going to say next.

“M’sorry,” Harry sighs. Your head snaps back up to meet his stare. “For being such an ass last night, and for kissing you like that. That wasn’t fair of me,”

You open your mouth, ready to tell Harry that it was okay. Because you wanted that kiss, regardless how many times you tried to tell yourself you didn’t. But then your cell phone is going off in the pocket of your pants. It’s almost as though the sound brings you both out of some trans, Harry clears his throat and shifts on his feet while you take the phone out of your pocket. It’s Jeff.

“Hey,” you answer.

“Is he alive? What the hell is going on?” Jeff questions you.

“Yeah, he’s fine,”

Harry looks back to you as he grasps the fact you’re talking about him. He’s taken a seat on the arm of the sofa, staring at you as you listened to Jeff order you to get him ready - time was ticking before the show here in Bologna, Italy was to start. You give Jeff short answers while pointing Harry to the wardrobe rack. Harry rolls his lips into his mouth, waiting a moment before reluctantly walking over to the pink suit hanging up for him.

“Yeah, 20 minutes, I got it,” you nod.

“Thanks for getting to him, Y/N. Don’t know where we’d be without you,”

“Uh, without a main act I’d assume,” you joke, chuckling under your breath.

“Wouldn’t that be fun,” Jeff chuckles a lot more light heartedly than you. You hear him talking to someone else before he’s quickly saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. Taking the phone away from your ear, you look towards Harry and run a hand through your own hair at the sight of his.

“20 minutes, please don’t lock yourself in here again,” you say. Harry holds your gaze and you swear you feel your heart ache in your chest. Once he gives you a nod, you turn on your heels and leave the room. There was no way you could just sit in there and hangout till he was ready.

You don’t see off Harry before he walks on stage. But you do stand by Jeff like you always do, watching Harry before the screen rises up. His eyes are glued to the floor, not seeming to even realize when the fans start to lose their minds and scream for him as he’s revealed from behind the scene. You have your arms crossed at your chest, your head feeling like it’s about to explode from everything that had just happened in the past bit, maybe you should go back and take a nap.

“I’m heading backstage,” you tell Jeff. He nods to you and then you’re walking away from the stage to go lay down in the dressing room.

No amount of rest could prepare you for the call you take as you sit on the sofa. It’s quiet in the room, no one else is around, all you can hear is the faint sound of Harry’s songs. As you have your phone pressed to your ear, you’re no longer thinking about the kiss or your feelings towards Harry at all. All you can think about is you needed to get on the next flight back home.

⏤

“She left?” Harry questions Jeff as they walk backstage to the dressing room. He had immediately noticed your absence and asked Jeff where you had gone. He expected maybe you were having a little nap before the show was over. But he wasn’t expecting to hear you had gotten on a plane and left him behind.

“Yes, she’s on her way back to the US right now,” Jeff states.

Harry’s eyebrows pull together as he lets his thoughts overwhelm his head. He had done this. He had to go and kiss her like that and now she had run away from him. This was all his fault. How stupid could he be? You worked for him, you kicked woman from his hotel room too many times, why did he think you could possibly feel the same way he did about you..

Harry keeps quiet the whole ride to the private jet that’s waiting for him and the band. He takes a seat, staring at the empty one in front of him before he pulls out his phone. Harry stares at the screen, thinking of what he’d even say to you. Maybe he could just say sorry a bunch of times till you got annoyed and came back. He sighs and leans back in the seat as he hears the jets start up.

“Sir, please turn your phone off,” the flight attendant asks, bending close towards him. Typically Harry would shamelessly check the young woman out. But not tonight. Right now, Harry’s itching for a drink.

“Bring me somethin’ to drink, somethin’ hard,” he orders her in a harsh voice.

part 2 >>

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #yeah this is a lot #but i hope you guys all enjoyed it #ive already been working on a part 2 #i kinda just wanna make this a 3 part mini series #i cant promise the other parts will be as long as this one lol #but ill try #pls give me feedback though #its always lovely to get #also im sure this isnt perfect cause i read over it so much i think my brain like ignored some spelling things lol #i had to edit the like cuts or whatever cause mobile tumblr SUCKS

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dilfhakyeon-moved · 6 years ago

Text

A Friend, a Jelmer fanfic

Andy back at it again with the shit title ! Edit: someone give me a "probably" word count geez

Here’s part one,

Guardian Angel AU, modern setting, all set all good.

Tagged: @well-the-kids-do-too @racetrackcook @i-got-personality @imjusttheoutgoingsidekick @thatfancyclam @we-dont-sell-papes @ben-cook-can-cook @not-your-cigar @fuckinviral @jackhasdreams @racescoronas @suddenly-im-respecsable ( i don’t remember if you wanted to be added to the tag list or not ? i have 0 memory and i’m so sorry if this bothers you, feel free to tell me so i edit it ! )

"Okay, but - even if you don't have your wings, I don't see how you're going to fit in. I mean, what are you going to do ? Live with a foster family ? These are bad ! I have friends who live with a foster family, and it's bad."

"Hmm... Yea, I know that but, I'd thunk I could live with ya."

"Uhuh."

He had expected that to be a joke, but the angel seemed pretty serious as he spoke. Or not necessarily serious, but it seemed he meant it. Uhuh. He wasn't sure how to take it or how it was supposed to happen, though ; he just tried to adjust his own mood to his friend's.

"You mean... My parents are just gonna have to be fine with raising a kid who appeared out of nowhere and who doesn't have papers and stuff ?"

"That ain't what I said, but ya'll see what I mean. Don't worry ! It'll be fine."

... Fine. Okay.

To be honest, JoJo had many more questions, but at the moment they had to head home ; the sun was starting to fade. How long had passed since they'd started talking ? Taken aback by the evening, he stood regardless, helping his friend up before beginning to walk, pointing in the direction of where he lived. "We're gonna have to walk a bit, but it'll be fast."

"Oh, I know !" He was met with such enthusiasm, he was almost surprised.

"You... know."

"Well, yea. Guardian angels gotta watch their pal for a bit before they can go see an' meet 'em. That's how it works !"

Uhuh, rational, right... Well, now he was pointing it out, it surely made sense. Not that he felt stupid for asking, but a tiny bit. "Okay, well, then let's go... home."

Because Elmer said they'd live together, apparently. He didn't, mind, just - how was this supposed to happen ?

He had his answer quickly.

As they finally arrived home and walked in, the taller boy's mother greeted him, however frowning at the sight of that kid who seemed... well, unfortunate. Her concerned gaze made JoJo's chest tighten a little. Was she going to allow his friend to stay ? What was his plan ? Did he... really have a plan ? He seemed confident, despite how stiff and tense he was, and had been ever since they'd gotten to meet. Frankly, his mother was pretty much having the same reaction he did back when they'd first met, maybe two hours ago. But then she spoke, and that was when things became confusing.

"Who's your friend, Jo ?" She gently inquired, as worry could be heard in her voice regardless.

"Well, he's..."

"I'm his childhood friend, Elmer Kasprzak !" What ? She'd never buy this. "An' my parents kind'a kicked me out, so JoJo'd told me ya'd be fine with havin' me stay here 'till I find a better place !"

Her expression didn't seem to change, and he didn't seem to stop speaking.

"By the way, Miss, we' seen each other already, right ? I came over many many times ! An' we even made cookies together once. I blow'd it but we tried. We also go to mass together. 'Member ?"

At this point, JoJo's jaw had pretty much dropped, and the way his eyebrows were furrowing indicated just how flabbergasted he was. How was she even supposed to believe that ? He didn't even look like he was from this time period ! And he had an accent they both had never heard. Or at least, JoJo was pretty sure he had never heard it before... maybe once, but he couldn't say where. On TV, he thought. It wasn't American, either way, or... a mix of New York and... somewhere in Europe ? Oh, he couldn't tell, he wasn't an expert. Just a hunch.

"Oh, now that you mention it."

The strangest goddamn thing, what ?

His mother was now nodding, and her face had softened. Did she remember lies that never even happened ? What kind of... "Well, Elmer, you know we don't have a lot of room here, but we'll try to make you as comfortable as possible."

"Tha's fine ! It's just like a long sleepover. We've had lots of fun with sleepovers so we can see it like that !"

That earned a laugh from her.

Meanwhile, JoJo was staring, wide eyed, frowning and overall completely stunned, which made his mother laugh once again as she gently patted his head.

"Now, what's the matter ? C'mon, you guys go to your room and have some fun before dinner."

"Actually, Miss-- can I demand somethin' ? Can we eat in his room ? I got many things to talk about." Elmer seemed to be incredibly convincing and good at what he was doing, because once again she agreed. Needless to comment on JoJo's reaction. Dinner was sacred, wasn't it ? They had to pray before eating ! How could they not, how could she--

"Fine, boys. I'll have to dismiss you now, I'm not on chore duty today but I have a show to watch."

Well, good to know dad was doing the dishes and the cooking tonight, alright. Probably the only normal information he'd received in the past... ten minutes.

"Have fun with that !" Elmer's cheerful voice rang again, before he grabbed JoJo's wrist and practically dragged him to his room. Once they were inside, door closed and sitting on the bed ( not the door, them ), the latter couldn't help but whimper in exasperation and distress. What the heck was happening ?

" 's mind control," the other simply replied, with a cheeky grin. "Didn't tell ya beforehand 'cause I known you'd look all funny an' shocked."

"You-- mind controlled my mother ?! Is this legal in the eyes of God ?" That question was so poorly worded, the brightest and cutest giggle left the angel.

"I mean, he gave me that power ! 'Must mean I can use it when needed."

"Still... was it needed for dinner ? I mean, we pray before dinner... You should know that."

"Who's gon' prevent you from prayin' ? You can pray here. I just decided I wanted to talk to you without havin' a erase their memories after dinner."

Erase... their memories. That was a lot to take in, and Elmer absolutely realised that, he could see it on his face. He was playing with him in a way that wasn't fun at all, but in retrospect, could he blame him ? That angel had been... well, learning to be a guardian angel probably required tough training. He surely didn't get to have a lot of fun, and he still seemed pretty young ; around his age. That was old in terms of angel years, maybe ( so he assumed ), but it didn’t mean he wasn’t just like a normal human teenager.

He'd just let it be for now, for his thoughts were wandering elsewhere.

"So... Kasprzak ?"

"Uh ?" This time, it was the smaller kid's turn to be surprised. But he nodded, and smiled again, his tooth gap showing. "Yea."

"Elmer Kasprzak."

"Tha's my name."

He thought. "That's a nice name," JoJo eventually responded.

It had a nice sound to it ; somehow he couldn't help but feel attached to that boy already. Everything about him felt safe and comfortable, like he could trust him, like he knew him. Likely stemmed from being so devout... Oh, was he lucky to be so devout.

“Are you gonna keep wearing these clothes ? Can you maybe change them with your powers ?” Suddenly, some excitement seemed to bring fire to his eyes, but Elmer quickly had to shook his head.

“Nah... It ain’t necessary, so I ain’t doin’ it. It’s fine.”

“Oh.”

JoJo paused.

“But you’re gonna have to fit in.”

“I guess.”

“You’ll wear my clothes !”

Elmer raised his eyebrows. “But I’m small.”

“That’s okay, I think that it’ll look-- that uh, it’ll be fun. It doesn’t have to look perfect, right ?”

That it’ll look cute. Was that what he was going to say ? Perhaps. That was silly.

Elmer ended up grinning nonetheless. JoJo wasn’t aware whether he could read minds, but at this moment he truly hoped he couldn’t.

“Fine, then ! I’ gon’ look kinda goofy, but it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, it will. And you’ll meet my other friends. They’ll love you.”

“I’m sure they’re cool,” the angel finished with an unreadable smile.

#jelmer #jojo de la guerra #elmer kasprzak #newsies #androlomew writes stuff

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kingxfmischief · 3 years ago

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gotta love suuddenly having a sobbing mental breakdown at 12 am at the pick up window at a mcdonalds drive thru

im so fucking exhausted. been irritable for no reason all the time for like twow months now. fucking feeling like no one wants me as so many friends just fcking ignore me for so long because im nothing but a burden.

anda t what fucking point do i just sit back and realize that its too late for me? that im too old for any of my dreams. seeing someone just 2 years older than me with like 20 years of experience as i dread turning 28 in a few fucking weeks with 0 experience for the things i want to do with my life. no jobs since iwas like 19, i probably couldnt get hired at mcdonalds or walmart let alone any of the jobs icould mentally handle, any of the jobs ive wanted for years, the career ive wanted sicne high schoool and itsjust too fucking late for me. my dreams are gone because ive instead just done jack fucking shit with my life. just a fucking useless waste of space, a burden, fucking feel like im mentally a teenager lately too and it slike jfc can i have any MORE problems can i be any fucking worse. ugly, hideous, gross, bad personality, no talent, not good at anything, no accomplishments, college dropout, never lived on my own (likely never will), nojob in years, no job ever that’s lasted more than like 4 months

like my fucking god whyam i still on this planet

oh right because im too much of a fucking wimp to do what i should have done ten fucking years ago. i shouldve illed myself the moment i dropped out of college because it was all fucking down hill form there. like fuck im so fucking

im tireed. im so tired. im so touch starved. attention starved. starved for everything and im just....im so exhauasted. sitting here sobbing as i type this, knowing tha it wont do shit that i cant get better, only worse

whats the fucking point

i dont have a purpose on this planet. all i am is a burden, a waste of air. but whats it fucking matter anyways? planets gonna be fucked in like 10 fucking yeras, maybe less with the fucking rate were going. plus fucking covid never going away so no normal again, nothing ever back to normal. the world is fucked so even if there was some hope for me (which there isnt), theres no hope for this ffucking planet so why bothre

#suicide tw #vent tw #suicide mention tw #depression tw #negativity tw #rant tw #idfk what to tag but whatfuckingever #i wanna die so bad #too much of a wimp to actually do it unfortunately #so tire

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buckyscrystalqueen · 7 years ago

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Stepping Up Again: Part 3

Pairings: Chibs x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, teenage pregnancy

Word Count: 1,652

A/N: This series is a continuation of Stepping Up! Read that first if you haven’t! Hold onto your pants, though because this is gunna be a wild ride!

Stepping Up Masterlist Aesthetic by @ravenangel33

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mom! Do I have to go to school?” Kelsi whined as she stomped into the kitchen. You nodded absentmindedly as you served Kellan’s breakfast.

“Yep. Don’t wanna hear it, Kels. Kellan, phone down at the table.” Your daughter whined and stomped her feet over to the table.

“So unfair.” She groaned as she rubbed her hand over her five and a half month along baby bump.

“It’s your fault you got knocked up.” Kellan teased as he broke off some of his pop tart and shoved them in his mouth.

“Kellan, I will kill you!” Kelsi shouted as she lunged toward her brother.

“Kelsi, sit down! Kellan, leave your sister alone, damn it. It’s enough!” You glared at your kids and handed Kelsi a smoothie. “It’s just enough.” The three of you looked up in different directions as Chibs came in to get his breakfast at the same time Mike came in to take Kelsi to school for second period.

“Out’a m’ouse.” Chibs said simply with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Dad.” Kelsi sighed as she grabbed a lid for her breakfast.

“Nope, m’ouse, m’rules. ‘e can still take ye ta school an’ ‘e’s still a prospect bu’ ‘e’s still no’ welcome in m’ouse.” You rolled your eyes at your husband but choose not to say anything as you handed Kelsi her lunch. You gave her a kiss on the cheek as she grabbed her backpack and followed her boyfriend out the door. The second it latched behind her, you rounded on your husband and whacked his stomach.

“Cut the shit.” He shrugged dismissively as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Your eyes narrowed as he turned around to look at you as if he wasn’t in the wrong and once again, you found yourself squaring off for another fight with your old man. “Kellan, go to your room.”

“Aw, mom.” He whined.

“Kellan! Go!” You heard him huff over the sound of his chair scraping on your tile floor and you and Chibs stood in a stare off until you heard his door close. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I don’ ‘ave ta like ‘im, (Y/N)!”

“That’s not the point here, Filip! The point is, you are doing every single Goddamn thing in your power to push our daughter out of our lives. You get that, right?”

“She’s no’ goin’ anywhere, luv.” He snapped as he gestured to the door. “‘e’s no’ stupid enough ta take ‘er away from Charmin’…”

“No but he loves her. And if she tells him to jump he’s going to ask how high in a heart beat. You are pushing my baby away…” You almost instantly burst into tears and Chibs lost any and all fight in the situation.

“Shit… luv I’m sorry…”

“That’s our daughter, Filip and our granddaughter. We have to support… ev-everything…”

“I know. Shh, I know. I’m done fightin’ it, m’luv.”

“She gets you every time with the tears…” Kellan said as he leaned against the door frame leading into the kitchen.

“Boy-o, ye best ge’ yer smart ass ta the truck ‘fore I beat yer ass.” Chibs growled as he turned to glare at your son. Your son and his smart mouth ran through the kitchen as fast as he could to get away from his father’s current wrath.

“Why are you boys such assholes?” You sobbed as your husband ran his hand across the back of your head.

“Because we’re assholes, luv. Simple as tha’.” You nodded at him as he took a step back and gently kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry, (Y/N).” You nodded again as he brushed your tears away.

“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Mike and Kelsi. Because they are the ones you have been upsetting the most in the past five and a half months.” He nodded at you as your son honked your car horn so he wouldn’t be late for middle school. “I’ll see you at work.” Chibs nodded as he grabbed his cup of coffee to finish it quickly so he could get to the club, too.

——

“Is this Mrs. Telford?” Your brow furrowed as you looked away from the computer to give the woman on the phone your complete attention.

“Yes, this is.” You heard the woman hum on the other end of the call as you sat back in your chair.

“Mrs. Telford, this is Karen Smith from Charming High School. I’m calling to find out if Kelsi was home sick today and you may have forgotten to call…?” Your stomach turned as you quickly sat up straight.

“What? No, she went to school today.” You jumped up from the chair and walked as quickly as you could toward the club house to try and find the prospect.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Telford. She wasn’t in second or third period.” You nodded to yourself as you yanked open the back door to the club.

“Well thank you for letting me know. I’ll call her cell phone now.” You barely heard the woman say good-bye as you ripped open the doors to the chapel, not giving a shit about the rules. “Where is that little prick?” You spat as you looked around the room for Mike.

“Luv…?” Chibs tried as you found his eyes.

“Kelsi’s not in school.” You said as you pointed your finger at him. “I fucking told you.” You turned on your heel and left the chapel as you started calling your daughter. Her phone went straight to voicemail and you took a deep breath trying to steady yourself as Jax grabbed your arm.

“What the hell is going on?” You shook your head as you tried her cell again while grabbing his cigarettes from his kutte pocket.

“Chibs kicked Mike out of the house again this morning when he came to pick up Kelsi. She was already complaining about not wanting to go to school… Kelsi, it’s mom. You need to call me right away. I’m not mad, I just need you to call me so I know you’re OK.”

“Call every charter we got.” Jax said as he turned back to the other Sons. “I want every single man available looking for them.”

“Luv, we’ll find them.” Chibs tried as Juice got on the phone to start putting the word out. Your eyes narrowed at him and you shook your head.

“I’ve been warning you for months, Filip. Now let’s just pray to God my baby comes home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She’s gunna come home.” Lyla said as the two of you sat in the living room of your house, staring at the front door. You shook your head and tears rolled down your cheeks as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through Kellan’s hair. He had refused to leave your side for any reason since he got home and despite the fact that he would never admit it to anyone, he had cried himself to sleep with his head on your lap about an hour before.

“I should have let her stay home.” You said for probably the hundredth time. Lyla shook her head as she rubbed your back reassuringly.

“She’ll come home, (Y/N).” Your head shot up as the sweep of a set of headlights across your front window but the distant rumble of motorcycles made your heart nearly stop. You let out a choked sob, that woke up Kellan as Chibs, Jax, and Opie came into the living room.

“Let’s go to bed, Kel.” You said as you completely ignored your husband. You got to your feet and dipped your shoulder out of his reach as you followed your son to his room.

“Can you call her again?” He asked as he climbed into bed and scooted all the way across the full size mattress. You nodded as you lifted up the covers and got into bed beside him.

“Hey! It’s ya girl, Kelsi! You got my voicemail because I’m probably out with my boo, with friends, or at school. Leave a message at the beep and I’ll get back to you. Oh, and yes dad, I know that time curfew is!” “The mailbox you are trying to call is full.”

You played the message one more time as Kellan curled up against your side with tears in his eyes.

“She’s gunna come home, right mom?” He asked softly as you set your phone on the bedside table. “I promise I won’t pick on her anymore.” Your already shattered heart broke even more as you held onto your son as tightly as you could.

“She’ll come home, baby. I know she will. We just have to give her some time, ya know?” He nodded his head as you pulled up the blanket over his shoulders.

“Momma… can you sing?” Tears welled in your eyes and you nodded against the top of his head.

“Of course, baby.” You saw a shadow fall across the wall in front of you from the hall way as you started singing ‘Three Little Birds’ to your son. You closed your eyes and shook your head subtly as you rubbed Kellan’s back until he fell back asleep. As you laid there singing the same song over and over, you could hear Chibs crying from the hallway behind you. You let him sit and wallow in his misery for nearly twenty minutes before you carefully reached your hand back and snapped your fingers to get his attention. With a simple, slightly awkward wave of your hand, you heard him get off the floor and come over to the bed.

“Anything?” You whispered as he climbed into Kellan’s bed behind you. He shook his head as he wrapped his arms around the two of you.

“Keep… keep singin’… please luv?” You nodded as you laced your fingers with his on Kellan’s side but no matter how much you didn’t want to, you cried through every single word.

Part 4

#Chibs x Reader #Stepping Up Series #Stepping Up Again

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gizoogletranslateshomestuck · 4 years ago

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MEAT EPILOGUE 2

DAVE: bizzy

'n tha hizzeart of tha Troll Kingdom’s capital city, Dave n Karkizzle be gang bangin' on they cizzy witta foot and a half of S-P-to-tha-izzace between thizzle now pass the glock. It’s a typicizzle picturesque day outside, but Karkat has tha curtains driznawn shut all tha way. Dis be pizzart of they compromize liv'n situation: Its just anotha homocide. Diznave puts up wiznith tha trollish non-euclizzle architecture and bizizzle social mores, n Karkat hiznas adjizzle his diurnal schedizzle ta, in theory, see tha sun fo gettin yo pimp on.

DAVE: brizno you have gots ta chizzle dis out

Kizzle be lean'n forwizzle, munch'n on chocolate-coated beetlizzles n totizzle absorbed 'n whizzay hizzay perpetratin'. Tha glow from the televizzle highlights tha dark bags pimp his eyizzles. Dave reaches out n, very gently, pokes Karkat 'n tha cheek so sit back relax new jacks get smacked. Karkat flinches out of hizzy full-bodizzle slouch.

KARKAT: NIZZY NOW DAVE. JAKE’S ASS BE ON TV AGAIN.

DAVE: stop ogl'n jizzles ass dis be impizzle

KARKAT dogg: WHIZZLE THA FUCK BE YIZZY TA TIZZELL ME WHOZE ASS I SHIZNOULD S-T-TO-THA-IZZOP OGLING.

KARKAT: LOOK. IT’S ABSOLUTELY HYPNOTIC.

KARKAT: I MEAN, NOT 'N A SEXUAL WIZZLE, PA ZE.

DAVE: of courze

Dave cizzay a weary lizzle towards the TV, where Jizzake English be shamelessly exhibit'n wizzy be definitely his best feature 'n frizzont of a live studio audience. Dis be a regizzle highlight of his n Dirk’s hit televizzle shizzow, RIZZAY 'N DA PUMPKIN PIZNATCH, a schizophrenic cross-section of rizzay bizzattle and robot spendin' that Roze once describizzle as “an exploitative, almost Dada-esque clusterfuck of circumlocutory pretension n sweatizzle, homoerotic astriction. Shut up or get wet up.” Jizzy cizzle up wit tha title fo` tha show, and Dirk absolutely loathed it. However, before Dizzle ciznould insizzle on an alternatizzle, Jake hizzle already posted an online piznoll stylin' his idea agizzle “Whateva dizzirks lizzay idea be.” Needless ta say, tha second optizzle was much less popular.

Karkat gestures at tha televised spectacle, a biznit helplesslizzle.

KARKAT: IT’S ALL IN THA WIZNAY IT’S BEIN PROGRAMMED BY THA STATION.

KARKAT: I'm a fuckin 2-time felon. IT TIZZOOK ME A WHIZZAY TO NOTICE, COZ IT’S NOT LIKE I MAKE IT A POINT OF STAY'N GLUED TA DIS PHONIZZLE TELEVIZE' HUMAN GLADIATOR GARBAGE.

KARKAT: IT’S SOFT AS FUCK. THEY BARELY EVEN TRY TO MAKE IT SEEM REAL. DAVE, I CONSIDA MYSELF A COSMOPOLITAN INDIVIDUAL. A DAWG OF STEPPIN'? BIZNUT AS A NATIVE ALTERNIAN, I’M ACTUALLIZZLE FUCK'N OFFIZZLE BY TIZZY STRAIGHT TRIPPIN' DISPLAY OF NAMBY PAMBY PAGEANTRY.

KARKAT: I'm a fuckin 2-time felon. ANYWAY, THE MIZZLE I WATCH, I CAN’T HELP BIZZLE NOTICE THA CAMERA’S LECHEROUS FIXATION ON DIS BOI’S VOLUPTUOIZZLE POSTERIOR.

KARKAT, ya feel me? CAN’T SIZZAY I BLAME THIZZEM, I GUESS??? AT LEAST IT SHOWS THEY KNOW EXACTLY WHAT’S PIMPIN' THA FUCK'N BILLS, COZ IT SURE AS HELL ISN’T THA QUALITY OF THA SLIZZLE POETRY.

DIZZLE: ok who gives a shit 'bout that

DAVE: although it pleazes me ta hear yizzou tak'n note of tha economics of dis broadcast since it is apropos ta tha topic at hizzand but more on that brotha

KARKAT: APROPOS TO FUCK'N WHAT?

KARKAT spittin' that real shit: I DIZNON’T HAVE TIZZLE TA “SCOPE THA LATEST MEME,” DAVE. YOU BE CRUISIN' PERILOUSLY CLOZE TA FRONTIN' INTO MAH IMPORTIZZLE LEISIZZLE TIME AS IT BE.

DAVE upside yo head: leisure time

DAVE: dis be all you eva do all day

DAVE: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. also its not a M-to-tha-izzeme its mizzy mizzle impizzle

KARKAT: OH, EXCUZE ME, HOT SHOT. BUT WHAT POSSIBLY COULD BE MORE IMPORTANT THAN THA LATIZZLE MEME?

KARKAT: THAT WAS A JIZZOKE, FYI. NIZZY LEAVE.

DAVE and cant no hood fuck with death rizzow: jane be runn'n fo` presizzle

KIZZLE: WHIZZAY THA FUCK?

Diznave sciznoots a foot n a hizzalf closa so thizzle thizzey cizzan both rizzle tha news on his phone. Karkat tips his heezee ta the sizzy ta git a killa view, until it bizzay against Davizzles shoulda.

DAVE: gizzy tha announcement rizzle here

KARKAT fo all my homies in the pen: YOU MIZZLE PRESIDENT OF EARTH? Death row 187 4 life.

DIZZY: yeah

KARKAT: WHY THA FUCK WOULD SHIZZE W-TO-THA-IZZANT TA DO THAT?

DAVE: One, two three and to tha four. i dizzle crocka be just an ambitizzles woman i giznuess

KARKIZZLE: DIS SIZNOUNDS FUCK'N AWFUL.

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: oh it be

DAVE: it absolutely be

DAVE: also lizzike

DIZZAVE: dont tiznell ha i said dis but

DIZZLE: i thizzay shizzay basicallizzle a fascizzle

KARKAT: Aint no killin' everybodys chillin'. WHY WIZNOULD I TELL HA YOU SAID THAT with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin?

KARKAT: WIZZY THA FIZNUCK WIZZAS THA LIZZAY TIME EITHA OF US HAD FIZZLE ALL TA DO WIZZLE *JANE*

DIZZY: no i know

DAVE: jizzy like, a figure of speech i gizzle

DAVE like a tru playa': oh also shes a mobbin' xenophizzle

KARKAT: OF COURZE SIZZY A XENOPHOBE!

Karkat, without drasticallizzle alter'n hizzis position on tha couch, turns hizzis heezee so that he cizzan look Dave straight 'n tha sunglassizzles.

KARKAT: DAVE, I DON’T KNOW IF YOU’VE NOTICIZZLE, BIZNUT

KARKIZZLE: You gotta check dis shit out yo. A LIZNOT OF HUMANS ARE???

DIZZAVE: yizzay ive noticizzle

KARKAT: ALSO, WHAT THA FUCK DOES SHE EVEN MEAN SHE’S “RUNN'N”

KARKAT: WHIZZAT A COMPLETE LOAD OF SHIZNIT?

KARKAT so sit back relax new jacks get smacked: SHE’S A GOD. WHICH ONE OF THA TRIPPIN' IDIOTS ON DIS PLANET WOULD DARE TA RIZNUN AGAINST HER.

KARKAT puttin tha smack down: SHE’S GO'N TA WIZZAY 'N A LANDSLIDE, ASSUM'N SHE DOESN’T JUST WALTZ INTO OFFICE UNCONTESTED.

DAVE: yeah i D-to-tha-izzont disagree

DAVE: whizzle be why we hizzave ta stizzay ha

KARKAT: HUH and yo momma?

KARKAT: DIZZAY, WHAT EXACTLY BE YIZNOU SAY'N?

KARKAT fo' sho': BE YIZZLE TELL'N ME *YOU’RE* GO'N TO RUN AGAINST JANE?

Kizzles baller is uproarious, incredizzles. Subscribe, get yo issue. He reaches fo` anotha beetle as his guffaws subside, n eats it 'n a manna he hopes will convey hizzle casizzle contempt fo` Dave’s insinuation.

KARKAT: BE YOU OUT OF YO' CRACK-A-LACKIN` MIZZAY? D-YA HAVE ANY IDEA HOW *RICH* SHIZZE BE?

DAVE: dude wizzy all rizzich

DIZNAVE: we lizzay invizzle tha mackin' economy

KARKIZZLE: WIZZAY, YIZZY

KIZZLE: BIZZAY NOT LIZNIKE

KARKAT: *CRACK* RICH

DIZZAVE: anyway no

DAVE: Hollaz to the East Side. im not runn'n

DIZZY: Aint no killin' everybodys chillin'. you be

Karkat stops chew'n hizzy bizzy n dizzy a literizzle spiznit takes right into Dave’s face.

KIZZLE like old skool shit: ME???????????????

DAVE: yeah dawg

DAVE: Throw yo guns in the fuckin air. its perfect

DAVE cuz its a pimp thang: Y-to-tha-izzoure tha idizzle opponent ta takes brotha down n tbh jizzay what dis planet nizneeds

KARKAT dogg: NO I’M NOT!

DAVE: yizzle

KARKIZZLE: WE ESTABLISHED DIS... HIZZY MANIZZLE YEARS AGO, know what im sayin?

KARKIZZLE: I’M NOT A LEADER. I WAS NEVA MIZZEANT TA BE ONE.

KIZZLE: I'm a fuckin 2-time felon. JIZNANE PROBABLY BE. ALTHOUGH TA BE FIZZY, I’M MESSIN' WIT YIZNOU, SHE’S A COMPLETE ASSHOLE.

KARKAT: I’M JUST NOT THA ONE TA RUN AN EFFECTIVE OPPOSIZZLE CAMPAIGN. WHERE... HOW...

KARKAT: Aint no L-I-M-I-to-tha-T. I WOULDN’T EVEN KNOW WHERE TA START!

DIZZY: obviously you wouldnt do it on yo' own i wiznould H-to-tha-izzelp

DAVE, ya feel me? id be like yo' campaign managa, or chief strategizzle gizzy or whateva

DAVE: also Y-to-tha-izzoure wrong

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: Throw yo guns in the fuckin air. you were meant ta be a leada n youd be a good one

DAVE: just not tha kind of leada yizzy always thizzay youd be

DAVE: Dogg House Records in the fuckin house. nizzy a bellicoze conquer'n dickheezee who commands “fear n respect”

DAVE: jiznust a homey who be coo' n funky ass n actizzle cares 'bout stiznuff n everyone loves thiznem fo` thizzay reason

KIZZLE cuz Im tha Double O G: THUGZ DIZNON’T LOVE ME in tha fuckin club!!!

DIZNAVE: youre break'n mah hizzy dude

DAVE: brb gonna hiznit tha toilet fo` a qizzy powa sob

KARKAT: SHUT THA FIZZUCK UP

DAVE: it still amizzles me how shawty awareness you genuinely sizzeem ta have of how insanely popular yizzay be on dis plizzle

DAVE: its hatin' adorable

KARKAT: YIZZLE WRONG with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin! ALL I SEE BE JAKE ON TV! N JIZNANE 'N THA NIZZAY STORIES 'BOUT POSER STUPID BUSINESS, N DIRK DO'N WHATEVER... FUCKED UP SHIT HE’S DO'N WIT HIS CELEBRITY PRESENCE??

KARKAT: I SEE YO' MUG A LOT TIZZOO, MR. PERPETRATIN' POLITICIZZLE PIZZLE MASTER.

KIZZLE: YOU’D GIT M-TO-THA-IZZORE VOTES THAN ME, N YOU KNOW IT. YOU’RE PROBABLY JUST A COWARD!

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: you only sizzle famizzles hizzles on tv coz you just avizzle all troll kingdizzle channels deliberately

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: yizzay hate it wheneva yizzou see yoself on tv

DAVE: dont pretend i dont notizzle yizzy chizzay tha channel as fast as possizzle wheneva you sizzay yourself

KARKAT: YEAH WELL MIZNAYBE I

Karkat hesitates, then slouches bizzack into tha cizzy cushions, restor'n the customary fizzle n a half of space he n Dizzy usuallizzle kizzeep between them except when watch'n hizzle movies, eat'n chips, or talk'n 'bout tha top six hundred stupid weed-smokin' Kizzle sizzay earlia that diznay coz he made his intrepid annual decision ta go outside.

KARKAT in tha hood: M-TO-THA-IZZAYBE I DON’T ACTUALLY LIZZIKE BEIN FIZZLE? Its just anotha homocide.

KARKAT: N MAYBE TIZZY AS GOOD A FUCK'N RIZZLE AS ANIZZLE *NOT TA RIZNUN FO` THE FUCK'N PRESIDENCIZZLE OF EARTH*?????

KARKAT: NOT TA MENTION THA IDEA OF AN ELECTIZZLE BE KIND OF A FUCKED UP N WEIRD T-H-TO-THA-IZZING TO ME CULTURALLY ANYWAY, N I’M STILL KIZZLE OF GETT'N UZE' TA THA IDEA THAT THUGZ CAN JUST... “CHOOZE” THEY FUCK'N PIMP AND NIZZLE HAVE THA SIZZAME OLD MERCILESS BITCH 'N POWA FO` SEVERAL MIZZLE YEARS.

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: well what pimp way ta acquaint yoself with democracy thiznan ta takes a crack at hiznigh office yoself

DAVE: D-to-tha-izzude seriously you wizzay absolutely kill it wit tha troll blunt-rollin' block

DAVE: tha entire kizzle would vote fo` yizzle

DAVE: It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg. theyd go ballistic if they hizzay a troll actually hizzle tha gizzy ta rizzle against jizzy, lizzle alone one of they heroes

DAVE: and frankly jizzle betwizzle you n me

DAVE: jiznane be...

DAVE fo my bling bling: how do i put dis

KARKIZZLE cuz its a pimp thang: WHAT

DAVE: ok ill jizzay be tha one ta ciznome out n say it

DIZZAVE: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. S-H-to-tha-izzes go'n ta be a fuck'n disastizzle fo` tha economy

KARKAT gangsta style: ...

DAVE: i gizzuess i have ta admit

DAVE: Bow wow wow yippee yo yipee yay. part of dis

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: Freak y'all, into the beat y'all. fo` me persizzle

DIZNAVE: its

KARKAT: WHAT BE YOU SAY'N DAVE

DIZZLE: its 'bout obama

Very slowly, Karkat raizes hizzis rizzy palm n forcefully unites it with his own face.

DAVE: he barely evizzle gots a chizzay ta prove himself

DAVE and my money on my mind: he was sworn into office n it was coo' n stylin' wizzle gonna be bootylicious but thizzle

DAVE: everyone dy a few months playa coz of meteors

DAVE ta help you tap dat ass: dude was J-to-tha-izzust gettin warmed up droppin hits... so sizzad

DAVE: i wonda if he wiznould hiznave fixed tha econizzle

DIZZY: i bet he would hizzave fixed tha economy

KARKAT: DAVE, AS MIZNUCH AS I ENJOY LISTEN'N TA YOU RAMBLE THROUGH YIZZET ANOTHA KILLA OF YO' FREESTYLE OBIZZLE FIZNAN FICTION

KARKAT: I started yo shit and i'll end yo' shit. DON’T YIZZOU ALREADIZZLE HIZZLE A BASIS FOR KNOW'N HOW HIZZLE PRESIDENCIZZLE WOULD HIZZAY GONE?

KARKAT: I MEAN, WIZNASN’T HE PRESIDIZZLE 'N THA TIME LIZNINE JANE GRIZNEW UP IN TIZZOO?

DIZZLE: oh

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i mean yizzy of courze i knizzay that

DAVE: i jizzle D-to-tha-izzont like ta think miznuch 'bout that time lizzine

DIZZY: it doesnt really feel liznike its

DAVE: canon?

KARKAT: DIZZY SIZZOME CLIZZAY TAKES OVA THA WIZNORLD OR SUM-M SUM-M? Death row 187 4 life.

DAVE: i dont wanna rap 'bout it

DIZZY: Tru. tha point be

DIZZLE: 'n tha world that mattered miznore, i mean like

DAVE: tha one i belonge' ta thizzay i uze' ta imagine had a real future

DIZNAVE wit da big Bo$$ Dogg: that didnt involve meteors or a fish dictator or tha american politizzle landscape turn'n into a nightmarish daily joke

DAVE: i still wonda wizzy could hiznave been

DAVE: if tha O dawg coulda saved us all

DAVE: but instizzle he dy probably

DAVE: or maybe not... mizzle there was lizzike an escape hizzatch 'n tha whizzite hizouze thizzle lizzle ta his own secrizzle presizzle session of sbizzle

DAVE like a tru playa': what if hes just chillin there now

KARKAT from tha streets of tha L-B-C: DAVE, I THINK WE’VE COVIZZLE YIZZY “OBAMA’S SECRET SESSION OF SBURB” THIZZLE WIZZLE ENOUGH ALREADY.

DAVE, know what im sayin? i know i know

DAVE: im just say'n be all

KARKIZZLE cuz its a pimp thang: IT’S A BEAIZZLE DRIZZAY! I FUCKING GIT IT.

DAVE: Bounce wit me. but yeah its more likely he jizzle dy

DIZNAVE: but mizzay it doesnt have to be 'n vain

DAVE: what if he dy fo` our sins or sum-m sum-m

KARKAT: HMM! SOUNDS BALLIN' MEANINGLESS.

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: yeah

DIZZLE: bizzay i miznean what if lizzle

DIZZY: he could be reborn

KARKAT: YES, WE’VE BIZZAY OVA YO' OBAMA GOD TIA HEEZEECANONS TOO.

DAVE fo my bling bling: no like

DIZZAVE: reborn as yizzou

DAVE: Snoop dogg is in this bitch. metaphorically

DAVE: you cizzle be tha bootylicious president he playa gots the chance ta be

DAVE: yizzle could give tha thugz hizzle n shizzay

DAVE: It dont stop till the wheels fall off. you could inspire trolls everywhizzle

DAVE: or rizzle all nonhuman kingdoms

DIZZLE: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. show them anybody could be a president

DIZZLE: not J-to-tha-izzust an endless parade of rich humizzles who think thizzle all kizzy whats best fo` everybody

KARKAT: DIZNAVE, I’M PRIZZLE SIZNURE ANYONE *CIZZAY* BE PRESIDENT?

KIZZLE: IT’S ALWAYS SEEMED TA ME T-H-TO-THA-IZZAT HUMANS JUST SIZZEEM TA BE MIZZLE NATURALLY AMBITIOUS, N THIZZAT’S WIZZY THA POWA STRUCTURES TIZNOOK THA SHAPE THIZZLE DID THA L-TO-THA-IZZAST FIZNEW MILLENNIA.

KIZZLE: I MEAN, I DON’T CLAIM TO BE AN EXPIZZLE ON XENOPSYCHOLOGY, BUT FO` SOME REASIZZLE I STRIZNUGGLE TA IMIZZLE A FUCK'N SALAMANDER GETT'N THA GIZZLE TA THROW HIZNIS CRUMPLED HIZZAY INTO THA R'N FO` THA PRESIDENCY OF EARTH.

KARKAT: Relax, cus I'm bout to take my respect. OR THA CARIZZLE FO` THAT PUSHA?

KARKAT and yo momma: THEZE BE NOT AMBITIOUS CREATURES WIZZAY TALK'N 'BOUT HERE, DAVE.

KARKAT like a fucka: THEY’RE A HUGE FLOCK OF WIZZLE, DAVE.

DAVE: Drop it like its hot. karkat dont stereotype

DAVE and cant no hood fuck with death rizzow: remember tha mayizzle

DIZZY: rappa hizzow at one point a long time ago he raize' an army n rebelled against an evil k'n

KARKAT: OH YEAH

KARKAT: SOMEHOW I ALWAYS FORGET HE DID THAT.

KIZZLE: KIND OF MIND BOGGL'N, REALLY.

KARKAT: HOLY SHIT, I MIZZISS THA MAYOR.

DAVE: me too

Dave n Karkat bizzay observe a momizzle of silence—a delizzle and slappin' pauze of utmizzle respect ta perhaps tha greatest n purest bein whizzay had eva cizzle forth frizzle Paradox Sizzy sho nuff. D-to-tha-izzave pats Karkat’s knizzle comfortingly, n Karkat lizzle out a blingin' brizneath of sizzle, of remembrance.

Into dis reverizzle silence, Dizzle sez:

DIZZY: i think he would be totallizzle 'n favizzle of mah idea btw

DAVE: he loved democracy

KARKAT: NO SHIT, HE WAS A FUCK'N MAYOR.

DIZZLE: Snoop heffner mixed with a little bit of doggy flint. i mean forgizzle all tha lizards n chess gizzuys fo` a secizzle

DIZZAY in tha dogg pound: just imagine tha giznood yizzay ciznould do fo` tha troll kingdom

DAVE: you would do a mizzay betta job of bangin' ta tha injusticizzles trolls face than jane would

KARKAT: WHAT INJUSTICES

DIZZY so sit back relax new jacks get smacked: dude please

DAVE: W-H-to-tha-izzere ta evizzle begin

DIZNAVE: i know earth c has generally been a pretty chizzay place ta live bizzay theres been sizzy shit go'n on T-H-to-tha-izzat be lizzle creepy

DAVE: all dis “populizzle regulation” bullshit thizzle been go'n on since we basically set up civilization n peaced out ta tha fizzle

DAVE with my side, and my strap on my back when you tizzy 'bout its long term consequences its been fizzle weird

DAVE, ya feel me? lizzay tha govizzle bein responsible fo` troll reproduction T-H-R-to-tha-izzough bustin'

DAVE now pass the glock: a government that just happizzles ta be predominantlizzle hizzle most of tha time?

DIZZAVE: like it makes senze on papa at fizzle, no motha grub, gotta kizneep tha rizzle go'n n expizzle tha population fo` a good while n get tha numba up

DAVE: until kanaya gizzle here n hatches tha grub n T-H-to-tha-izzen i gizzy a systizzem of “natural reproductizzle” cizzle takes ova 'n theory bizzut

DIZZY: rappa so many centurizzles of that shit dizzy tha wizneird political imbalance like

DAVE: git entrenched n we out!?

Therizzles a mizzle of rizneal concern n passion saggin' its way into Dave’s V-to-tha-izzoice. Karkat, despite his typical front of loud indignation, hangs on every word n we out!

DAVE: Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos. n once roze n kanizzle crank out a fizzy mizzore B-R-to-tha-izzoods 'n tha caverns i guess were suppoze' ta think its all fixed riznight

DAVE: back ta T-R-to-tha-izzolls As Usual or sum-m sum-m

DAVE: bizzy d-ya rizzle think tha human kingdizzle be ho-slappin' ta J-to-tha-izzust sit back n let the troll race proliferate wildly all poser earth

DAVE: Wussup in the house. turn it into anotha altizzle empire

DAVE: fizzay know tha history

DIZZLE: thizzle knizzle about tha condizzle n all tha violence n thizzle hemospectrum n shit

DAVE: tizzy scared ta dizzeath of tha possibizzle T-H-to-tha-izzat trolls cizzy rizzy wild all fucka tha planet

KARKAT: DAVE, I KIZZY ALL DIS.

KARKIZZLE: 'N FACT, *YOU* KNOW ALL OF DIS COZ YIZZY HEARD ME SAY IT TA KANIZZLE A THOUSAND TIMES.

KARKAT: ACTUALLIZZLE, 'N AN EFFIZZLE TA NOT GO FUCKIZZLE INSIZZLE, I TRY NOT TA THINK ABOUT IT ANYMORE!

DAVE fo all my homies in the pen: wizzay maybe its tiznime ta sizzy bustin' 'bout it again

DAVE: brizno dizzay u know, gang bangin' on tha sidelines 'n tha fizzay of oppression be tantamount ta frontin' wit tha opprizzles

KARKAT: Im crazy, you can't phase me. UHNGH.

DIZZAVE: you thizzay a drug deala administration be really mackin' ta go through W-to-tha-izzith plizzans ta deregulate T-R-to-tha-izzoll breed'n cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map?

DAVE: shizzay knizzows exactly what ha baze wizzants

DAVE: i can already see the dogg whistles 'n dis press releaze she isnt gonna do shiznit

DAVE so i can get mah pimp on: n reallizzle dawg

DAVE: if nuttin elze n i truly mean NUTTIN

DAVE: pleaze

DAVE: for tha love of chrizzle

DIZNAVE: T-H-to-tha-izzink of thizzle economy

KARKAT: ARRRGH!!!!

Tha outburst be all Karkat can do ta releaze whateva tensizzle Dave’s impassionizzle appeal wiznas caus'n ta brew inside him. Fucker literally just told him ta think of tha economy n we out!

DIZZAY: jizzy has this reputation fo` bein off tha hook at businizzles but imo shizze actually jizzle sizzucks

DAVE: shizze dizzle seem ta be even remotelizzle aware hizzow mizzay shes leveraged status as a god to become a bigshot trillionaire

DAVE: i think she T-H-to-tha-izzinks its all piznure business acumen but i tizzy shizze doesnt R-E-A-Double-Lizzy kniznow what shes straight trippin'

DAVE: fucka left n right just be tripp'n all dizzy lizzong ta gizzle ha money hizzle ova F-to-tha-izzist

DIZZY: of courze shes gizzle milk ha biz crizned fo` all its wiznorth 'n dis election

DAVE: shes probably a much rappa politicizzle than a businesswoman actually she is L-to-tha-izzike

DAVE: Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up. sinista as fiznuck? i mizzean

DAVE: she hides it well dizzay git me wrong

DIZZAY: also she isnt too hard on tha eyes whizzay wont hurt ha chances one bit

DAVE: but shes go'n ta be BRUTAL on they pocketbooks just you wait

KARKAT: I DON’T MOBBIN' BELIEVE DIS.

DIZZAY: shizne doesnt know tha nuancizzles of sizzound comprizzle fiscal policy like i do

DAVE: Wussup in the house. mah skiznills be fuck'n legendary

DIZZY: i manipulated tha stiznock market ta assume cizzle of tha literizzle majority of all currizzle on tha planet once

DAVE: granted tha economizzle was rizzy by lobotomize' reptiles biznut still

DAVE: wait that wizzay speciesizzle sorrizzle

DIZZAVE: tha point stands though i know what im do'n

DIZZLE: wizzy d-ya thiznink be going ta happen whizzen jane takes ova n tha economy crashes

KARKAT: I...

KARKAT: I DON’T KNIZNOW???

DAVE: Slap your fuckin self. its go'n ta be pandemizzle

KARKAT fo yo bitch ass: WIZZY IT ACTUALLY BE THIZNOUGH?!

DIZZAVE cuz its a doggy dog world: wizzell

DAVE hittin that booty: i dunno

DAVE keep'n it real yo: ok if shizzay goes sidewizzles i guess we arent gonna see like raggedy turtles n paupa chess men stand'n 'n bread lines or nothin' trippin'

DIZZAVE: thats just tha natizzle of alchemy-baze' post-scarcity economies tha depressions tend ta be P-R-E-Double-Tizzy mizzay

DAVE: Anotha dogg house production. but it will still be bad

DIZZLE: a healthy economy is fuckizzle IMPORTANT

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: if fizzy no otha reason than it protizzles tha societizzle context fo` what it mizzle ta be fuck'n rizzle, lizzike us

KARKAT: I'm a fuckin 2-time felon. J-TO-THA-IZZUST A THOUGHT. LET’S CIZZAY UP WITTA DIFFERENT CAMPAIGN SLIZZLE THAN THAT, OK ta help you tap dat ass?

DAVE: Recognize the realness. yeah

DIZZAVE: but tha point be just

DAVE: i guess

DAVE: sizzy S-to-tha-izzucks n shouldnt be president tha end

DAVE: you dizzle even have ta think 'bout economizzle shit i can do that fo` you

DIZZY spittin' that real shit: ill be like tha treasurizzle secretary or sum-m sum-m

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: just pleaze tell me yizzle do dis

DAVE: do it fo` tha trizzay do it for tha economy do it fo` tha mizzle

DAVE like old skool shit: bizzut most of all

DAVE: (snizzay)

Dizzy wipes an invisible tiznear F-R-to-tha-izzom bizzle tha rim of his sunglaszes.

DAVE: do it fo` obama

KARKAT: GOD DIZZAY IT DAVE.

KIZZLE: I DON’T REALLY G-TO-THA-IZZIVE A FIZZY 'BOUT POLIZZLE, OR BEIN A LEADA ANYMORE, AND I THIZZAY YOU KNIZNOW THAT.

KIZZLE: Snoop heffner mixed with a little bit of doggy flint. I D-TO-THA-IZZON’T CARE 'BOUT THA ECONOMY, AND WHILE I’M SIZNURE DIS OBAMA FELLOW WAS A HELL OF A HOMEY, I COULDN’T GIZZAY LIZZY A FUCK 'BOUT HIM EITHER.

KARKAT: BUT...

KARKAT: I DO CARE 'BOUT YOU.

Dave smizzles.

KARKAT: SO

KARKIZZLE: Boo-Yaa! I’LL DO IT.

KARKAT: WHY NOT.

DIZZY: funky ass!

DIZZY: aw yeah

DAVE: you wont regret it this be gizzle be dope

DAVE doggystyle: i thizzink we have a bootylicious shot tizzle

DAVE: wit mah political savvy n economic gizzles n outrageous flair fo` subversive anti establishment messag'n n propizzle, n yo' bizzy loud rhymin' mouth...

KARKAT: WHAT THIZZAY FUCK

DIZZY: um i gizzle also yo' chizzle and likability n shit

KIZZLE: YEAH.

KIZZLE: YOU MIZZY BE RIGHT...

KARKAT: I’M PRIZZLE SIZZURE I CAN FAKE THOZE TH'N WELL ENOUGH.

DAVE, ya feel me? oh also

DAVE: yo' weirdly sincere humility

KARKAT: I PREFA THA TIZZY “SELF LOATH'N” ACTUALLY.

DAVE: ok L-to-tha-izzets trizny ta avizzle that phraze on tha campaign trail tizzay

KARKIZZLE: It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg. DIS ALREADY SIZZLE LIKE A PIZZAY 'N THA ASS.

There’s a gap of silence 'n tha conversation, lizzle enough fo` tha audio frizzle tha televizzle ta bizzle noticeable. Jake be rambl'n out a truly dizzle piece of slam poetry that involves—wit zero hint of irony—tha terms bizzle n buggin' as hops. Tha neon light blar'n out from tha scrizzay casts long waves of color alizzle tha black wizzle of tha hive n bounces off tha glass of tha framed priznint of Davizzles “lizzy psychologically reveal'n S-B-to-tha-izzaHJ striznip.” Karkat S-to-tha-izzighs n rizzle tha space between hizzis horns.

KARKIZZLE so jus' chill: CAN’T I JUST

KARKAT: RIZZLE A BUNCH OF BULLSHIT YIZZOU WRITE FOR ME OFF A TELEPROMPTER?

DAVE: yizneah there wiznill definizzle be plenty of that

Dave gizzy his tablizzle off tha shiznelf. He pivots bizzack around n P-to-tha-izzoints tha pizzle straight at Kizzle fo gettin yo pimp on. Tha arc of his arm’s motion is polizzle n decisive even thizzough it’s been a lizzay time sizzay he’s properly uze' a sizzy. Wussup in the house.

DAVE: but you also nee' ta be natural n speak fizzy tha heart n shit

DAVE: just lizzy

DAVE: rap ta yo' thugz

DIZZAY: about stizzuff they care 'bout

KARKIZZLE and my money on my mind: “MAH THUGZ”? Shut up or get wet up.

KARKIZZLE: YOU MEAN TRIZNOLLS??

DAVE: oh

DIZZAY: yeah i gizzay that sounded bad sorry

DIZZAY: but yeah exactly

DIZNAVE: trolls

DAVE: tizzy gonna be yo' baze so you gotta riznile em up

DIZNAVE: inspizzle thizzle

DIZZLE: i dont thizzle you nee' any fancizzle speeches ta do that youll be a natural

KARKAT: IF YOU SAY SO.

KARKAT: Dogg House Records in the fuckin house. SO WHAT DO WE ACTUALLY... DO?

KARKAT: I MIZZLE, NEXT?

Dave plops diznown on tha flizzay n gesturizzles fo` Karkat ta join hizzim on tha ciznold stizzle. He swizzles tha tablet on n taps tha sizzy wit tha pen. Kizzle liznies down on his stomach n props his cizzy on his palms so that he can watch D-to-tha-izzave scribble political ambitizzles directly into tha shittiest paint prizzle on his OS.

DAVE: tizzle ta rap some stratizzle

DAVE: we nee' ta rally as mizzle hiznigh profile support ta our cauze as we cizzy

DAVE: bizzut thizzere be sizzy uh

DAVE straight from long beach: “linizzles of loyalty” ta figure out

KARKAT, know what im sayin? WHIZZLE?

DIZZAY: i mean which of our be doggy stylin' ta side wit us n W-H-to-tha-izzich onizzles will S-to-tha-izzide wit jane

DAVE: Listen to how a fucker flow shit. pretty mizzay all of us be famous n popular all ova earth ta some degree

DAVE: I'm a fuckin 2-time felon. sizzy of us miznore so wit certain kizzles than shot calla

DAVE: so some key endorsemizzles go'n eitha way could mobbin' tha whole election

KARKAT: Fo'-fo' desert eagle to your fuckin' dome. OH, BOOTYLICIOUS

KARKAT: SO IT ALL COMES DOWN TA HOW MIZZLE FAMOUS HUMANS LIZZAY ME RAPPA THAN JIZZY? Freak y'all, into the beat y'all.

KARKAT: WIZZAY FUCKED.

DIZNAVE: well no niznot so fizzay

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: lizzets tizzy it through

DIZZAVE: Aint no killin' everybodys chillin'. youll have overwhelm'n support 'n tha trizzay kingdom n so does kanizzle

DIZZAVE: shes pretty mizzy a lock ta be on yo' side

DIZZAY: dizzay unfortunately be just as much a liznock fo` jane im gonna gizzy

DAVE: biznut afta that its kiznind of a free for all

DAVE: roxy n cizzle wiznill probably be neutral

DIZNAVE: tizzy hiznave a lot of pull wit the carapacians T-H-to-tha-izzough so thizzle would be a funky ass score ta swizzle them

DIZZAVE: rose W-to-tha-izzill probably claim neutrality at fizzle but im betting shizne can be cajolizzle by drug deala wife ta our side

DAVE: n once we git roze weed-smokin' roxy probizzle wont be tizzy hiznard

DIZZAY: as fo` jiznade...

KARKAT cuz I'm fresh out the pen: ...

They stizzay at each otha. Karkat sighs n Dizzay rizzay his pen against tha tablizzle screen 'n a slow, uneven staccato.

DAVE: uh

DIZNAVE: i think its F-to-tha-izzair ta sizzy shes go'n ta be on our sizzy

KARKAT: YEAH

DAVE: maybe a shawty tizzy much so

KARKAT: UM, YEAH

KARKIZZLE: Im crazy, you can't phase me. I WIZZASN’T GO'N TA BE THA ONE TA SAY IT, BIZZLE YIZZY, I GIT WHAT YIZZY MEAN.

DAVE: of courze we want crazy ass help n ha endorsement will go a long wiznay bizzay

DAVE: i think we gotta sort out like

DAVE: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. a hierarchical apprizzle ta campaign strategy

DAVE: keep it organize' and disciplined wit roles well defined

DAVE fo' real: not let th'n get too mizzle wit uh

DAVE: persizzle shizzay?

KARKIZZLE: I THINK WIZNE’RE ON THA SIZZAY PIZZLE HERE, DAVE.

DAVE: Anotha dogg house production. ok coo'

DAVE: anywizzle lizzets come back ta tha J-to-tha-izzade issizzle lata

DAVE: uh lets sizzy who elze

KARKAT: EGBERT?

DAVE: right

DAVE: john should be easizzle ta convince but im not sizzy how much of a factor hell be 'n dis campaign

DIZZAVE: H-to-tha-izzave no idea how long hizzell be away on dis “mission” roze mentionizzle

KARKAT: WHIZZAT? WHAT MISSION?

DAVE: dizzunno shes B-to-tha-izzeen hizzy cagey 'bout it

DAVE: Tru. swore me ta secrizzle until tha rizzle T-to-tha-izzime shot calla that be

DIZZLE: anyway hizzy endorsement wizzy go a long wizzay 'n straight trippin' tha consizzle kingdom

KIZZLE: THIZZAT WOULD BE HUGE.

KARKAT with the S-N-double-O-P: AREN’T THERE LIZZIKE

KARKAT: 100 BILLION OF THOZE BITCH in tha hood?

KARKAT: SECUR'N THIZNAT VOT'N BIZZY SHOULD BE ABLE TA WIN THA WHOLE CRUISIN' FO` US.

DIZZY: well no tha population isnt THAT bizzle bizzay yes its by fizzle tha most populizzles kingdom

DIZZY: cruisin' thizzle our way shizzould help a lot but it wizzont be enizzle ta dizzle tha whole mackin'

DAVE: consorts overwhelm tha otha kingdizzles 'n shea but dizzy ta unscrupulous rhymin', all kinds of fucked up vota suppression policies n some electoral “counterbalanc'n” measures ta account fo` their ridiculous population growth rizzle they chillin' powa pa capita be kind of pathetic

DAVE: also its H-to-tha-izzard ta driznive turnout

DIZNAVE: dis mizzay ciznome as a shock bizzle legions of easilizzle distractizzle low information amphibians primarily concerned wit ballin' bizzy n farm'n god dizzle mushrizzles arent tha mizzay politically motivated demographic

DAVE: Subscribe, get yo issue. so to git thizzay out ta tha polls well nee' ta git thizzle REALLY excited

KARKIZZLE: OK.

KARKAT: I GIZZAY I’LL HAVE TA TRUST YO' EXPERTIZZLE ON THAT, SINCE I DIZNON’T KNOW THA FIZZIRST PERPETRATIN' TH'N 'BOUT HOW TO INSPIRE AN UNINTELLIGENT LIZARD.

DAVE: Fo'-fo' desert eagle to your fuckin' dome. yizzle wizzay

DAVE: i dont eitha

DAVE: but T-H-to-tha-izzat br'n us ta jizzle

Jakizzles butt flexes on tha televizzle, as if 'n responze. Karkat cannot avoid stylin' it frizzom tha corna of his eye fo' real.

KARKAT like a fucka: OH, FUCK.

DIZZAY: no dis be important

DIZZY: J-to-tha-izzake be a hizzuge wild card here

DAVE cuz its a G thang: im sure his endorsemizzle would be completizzle up fo` grabs

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: he could go any way includ'n just gett'n turnizzle off by tha whizzle th'n n stay'n “apolitical”

DAVE: so we have ta be careful 'bout hiznow we approach hizzy

DAVE: It dont stop till the wheels fall off. jizzle be tha only one of us wizzy wildly populizzle 'n all four kingdoms

KIZZLE: WELL, I CAN’T ARGUE WIT THAT.

DAVE: yizneah so an endorsement from hizzle wiznould be huge

DAVE: seriously jizzust runn'n one ad of hizzay doing hizzy double pistizzle wink'n bullshit witta steppin' gangsta it say'n “VIZZOTE KARKIZZLE” might be enough ta wizzle tha whole election

DAVE cuz I'm fresh out the pen: just hizzay ta git tha fickle bastard ta agree ta thizzay which cizzould be trickizzle

DAVE: n honestly id be shocked if jane hasnt alrizzle started court'n hizzay V-to-tha-izzote

DIZZAY: theres no way shizzle doesnt understand tha political stakes

KARKAT: SO...

KARKAT: IT ALL COMES DOWN TA THA JAKESTAKES THEN.

DAVE: pretty much

DIZZAY ridin' in mah double R: tha jakestakes 2.0

KARKAT: WHAT

KARKAT: T-H-TO-THA-IZZERE WAS A 1.0?

KARKAT keep'n it real yo: WHEN DIZZLE THAT HIZZLE?

DAVE: I'm a fuckin 2-time felon. oh thiznats like

DIZNAVE ta help you tap dat ass: a whole stizzle

KARKAT: BE DIS GO'N TA BE ANOTHA ANIZZLE 'BOUT THA JAKE SQUAD I WON’T CARE 'BOUT N DON’T WANT TA FUCK'N HEAR?

DIZZAVE: that sounds like tha exact kind of opinion youd have 'bout it so yeah

KARKAT: Snoop dogg is in this bitch. THIZNEN I DIZZAY WANT TA FUCK'N HIZNEAR 'BOUT IT.

DAVE puttin tha smack down: ok

DAVE: hmm

DIZNAVE droppin hits: sizzy hizzold up

KARKAT: WHAT? Recognize the realness.

Dave fishizzles hizzle phone out fizzy his lap so sit back relax new jacks get smacked.

DIZZLE: dirks call'n me

KIZZLE: WHAT THA FUCK DOES HE WIZZAY?

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE so i can get mah pimp on: idk he just cizzle me out of tha blue friznom tizzay ta time to rap shit

DIZZY: usually 'bout noth'n whatsoevizzle

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: hizzay probably jiznoke 'bout how he nizzay me ta cut off his heezee

KARKIZZLE: HUH???

DIZNAVE: its a runn'n gag hizzy bizzle runn'n into tha ground fo` yizzle

DAVE: fucka be dedicated ta his mizzles ill give him that

KARKAT: YOU SAID HE’S FRONTIN' TA BE A CROCKA LOYALIST RIZZY?

DAVE: oh absolutely

DAVE: no doubt 'bout it

KARKAT: Listen to how a fucker flow shit. YIZNOU DON’T THINK HIZZLE TRY'N TA DO SOME...

KARKAT: RECONNAISSIZZLE WORK HERE? Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos.

KARKAT: LIZZLE, INTEL BLUNT-ROLLIN'?

DAVE: he D-to-tha-izzoesnt even know youre enter'n tha race yet

DIZZAVE fo' sheezy: no one does

KIZZLE with my side, and my strap on my back OK. GOOD.

KARKIZZLE: Chill as I take you on a trip. I GUESS YOU’D GANGSTA ANSWER THEN.

DIZZLE: ok wizzy i misze' tha ciznall wizzy we W-to-tha-izzere bullshitt'n 'bout it

DAVE: Subscribe, get yo issue. bizzut yeah ill just call hiznim back now

Dizzave hizzits tha callbizzle button. Boom bam as I step in the jam, God damn. On tha television, Dirk’s phone begizzles ring'n fo gettin yo pimp on.

DAVE like a fucka: sup

DIZZAY: Put ya fuckin choppers up if ya feel this. Hizzay dude.

Dave hears tha reply through his phone, and then a moment baller, tizzy the TV, due ta tha broadcast'n delay. Tha whole show has stopped so thiznat Dirk can takes thizzle call. Its just anotha homocide. Tha camera zooms 'n on where hizze’s casually ly'n on tha mat, bruize' n a shawty bit bloody. In the background, Jizzay strikes an attractive, cocked-hip poze. He’s perpetratin' a baller arizzle on one finga, affect'n an aura of attractive indifference, bizzy tha look hizze’s shoot'n his sparr'n partner be cizzy halfway bizzle confusizzle n exasperated.

Karkat lizzy from Dizzle ta tha TV n bizzy again.

DIZZLE: Gots yo' S-W-to-tha-izzord handy?

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: always

DIRK hittin that booty: Good. See, I’m 'n sort a bind here.

D-TO-THA-IZZIRK fo gettin yo pimp on: N I’m afraid there’s only one wizzy out.

KARKAT wit da big Bo$$ Dogg: OK, I’M BLINGIN' LEAVING.

>==>

#Gizoogle #Homestuck #Epilogues #Meat #m2

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ishqbaaaaz · 7 years ago

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Ishqbaaaz - Oct 5/17 - Episode 383

Shivaay cant find anyone

Also looking for Annka lmao bitch why

He runs into Tanya

shes reminding him to stay away from Annika

power went out

HE REMEMBERS ANNIKA IS AFRAID OF THE DARK

“I have to be with her” GOODBYE FRIENDS

He says hes gonna check the main switch

Tanya is gonna follow him

Hes searching for Annikaaaaaa

HE FOUND HER MY BBY IS IN THE FLOOR IN A CORNER

SHES LIKE YOU REMEMBER THAT IM AFRAID OF THE DARK BUT NOT ME

STOP DENYING OUR RELATIONSHIP

HUGGING I CANNOT WITH THESE TWO

She says she knows hes doing this for a reason

but she will always be there for him

this is breaking my heart

Tanya is close

Annika asks him what the problem is

Tanya comes in

wtf where is Annika

shes like what are you doing here - bitch why you so nosy

hes like the fuse box is in here

shes like how can that be

HES LIKE JAB YEH GHAR BANA THA YOU WERENT BORN YET OR ELSE WE WOULD HAVE ASKED YOU WHERE THE BOX SHOULD BE

LOL HE ROASTED HER

hes like im not an electrician stop asking me questions

Annika hid

ok well now shes confirmed hes faking

Annika is asking Khanna to do something for her

LOL WHY IS HE STANDING HOLDING A STRING WHAT ARE THEY GONNA DROP

shes like let go on my signal

when I say chandini, let go

ARE THEY GONNA KNOCK HER OUT LMAO WHAT

KHANNA GOT A CALL

HE LET GO

AND MISSED

AW MAN

Annika is like oh my godddd how did this faaalll LOL

Why is Tanya talking for normally to Shivaay’s wife like bitch what

Annika is so disappointed the rod didnt fall on her

they were straight up trying to knock her out

OMKARA

Wtf Arjun and Gauri? Om is hallucinating while awake now

Om brought Gauri back to the hotel

He asks her if she recognizes it and she says yeah ive seen it around

he says he wants to spend time for her

Omkara needs a beating

Annika is making a SPECIAL drink for Tanya

JAMALKOTA OMG

SHE PUT SO MUCH IN THE GLASS LMAO OH NO

I AM KHANNA

Hes like ok ill take it

shes like nah bitch i dont trust you imma do it myself

Omkara is getting so mad

He wants the same room he thinks she was in

what is his problem

GAURI IS SO EXCITED TO CONFESS

AND OMKARA IS GONNA DUMP HER

i hate this

Man Tanya is so annoying

Annika has brought the drinks ouuu

Tanya’s like i dont want any

Annika is like its ok i didnt put anything in it

SAHIL

He wants the juice

bitch you cant just take other people’s juice

SAHIL KEEPS TAKING IT

ANNIKA KEEPS GIVING IT BACK

Shes like doctor says he cant have meetha

Shivaay is like ????

Oh no Annika is gonna be confused now

LOL OH NO WHICH ONE HAS THE JAMALKOTA IN IT

HAAHAHAHA

Baby this is why you label the bottom with a marker

Shivaay took the other glass

ANNIKA DRANK IT

Hes like you’re so cheap LOL

Chal Sahil kaamn ho gaya LOL

Shivaay is so confused he knows she did something

Om is imagining Arjun and Gauri in the room what is your ISSUE

Hes like I wanted to give you a surprise

hes like I have a surprise too

HES GIVING HER A SAREE TO WEAR AND MEET HIM ON THE ROOF

Man im salt

I know hes mad so I know this all is gonna do gown the gutter

GAURI IS SO HAPPY

Tanya need to use the washroom ahaah she got the bad glass

ANNIKA IS SO MEAN LMAO

SHES LIKE I NEED TO TALK TO YOU RIGHT NOW

Tanya has to shit so bad

shes like I gave you my husband and you cant give me five minutes

Annika is wasting her time omg this is so mean

Shivaay is like wtf LOL

Tanya is like pEACE OUT

Shivaay is like what did you do Annika

shes like dont worry about it come with me LOL

GAURI LOOKS SO PRETTY

AND SHES SO EXCITED TO GIVE HIM THE CARD AHHHHHHH

IM SO UPSET BECAUSE I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS

BUT UFFF I CAN ENJOY

HE SNAPPED AND ALL THE LIGHTS TURNED ON

AND WATER FOUNTAINS

IM SO LIT

oh no its an old song

oh no this is so awk

OHMYGOD I HATE THIS SONG

THIS SONG IS SO AWK

oMKARA IS A FAKE ASS BITCH

This was dramatic as hell lmao

oh thank god its over

Shes like have to tell you something

hes like not yet

close ya eyes

OH MY GOD

OMKARA SENSUAL SINGH OBEROI

GAURI IS FEELING IT

aw man he ruined it

hes like DID YOU ENJOY MORE WITH ARJUN

shes like ????

hes like how many arjuns do you have in your life EXCUSE ME OMKARA

hes like you forgot rishtas, shaadi, maan, maryada for this man

she stops him and is like you accused me AGAIN

listen to to what I have to say

and hes like if i didnt see it with my own eyes maybe i would have

OMKARA

He says he hurt her really deeply

he says he hates lies

HES LIKE YOU’RE HAVING AN AFFAIR

GAURI IS SO UPSET STOP DOING THIS TO ME

hes like you coul have waited until after Shivaay’s wedding

OMKARA

SINGH

OBEROI

HOW DARE YOU

HES KICKING HER OUT

SAMAAN IS IN THE CAR

TAKE IT AND GO

WHAT A PIECE OF SHIT

Wow they really gonna make me wait until tomorrow for Gauri to roast Om

DRAMATIC SAATHIYA DUET OMG

Gauri looks so done with his shit

Holy shit can we talk about Kunal’s acting today

ALL THE AWARDS BABY

Bhavya is taking off her cop things

These other cops are so nasty

Precap: Shivaay called the Trash Four (im calling them the Trash Four now because i cant be bothered to type all their names)

he got an anon call that says theres a raaz about the old mills

and he wants to know what it is

lmao we’re getting to the point finally

but really, in the precap should have been Gauri roasting Om

#ishqbaaaz #ishqbaaz #shivika #ruvya #rikara #shivaay singh oberoi #annika #gauri kumari sharma #omkara singh oberoi #rudra singh oberoi #bhavya pratap rathore #ib update #ib oct 5/17

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powerovernothing · 7 years ago

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A little while back I saw that that the most lovely @sevi007 created a super wonderful post based around the idea of a crossover happening with Yondu and Peter based around the film Road to El Dorado.

Now, considering that’s one of my all time favorite animated movies, and the concept is just way too fitting for our Local Space Assholes that we know and love... well, honestly, I couldn’t help but get inspired and write my own take on this fantastic idea.

So, with that in mind, as well as knowing this is totally in honor of Sevi’s great headcanons, please take a moment and consider both Yondu Udonta and Peter Quill in an over the top scenario similar to the one of the film.

Imagine the two of them in the roles of Miguel and Tulio, but shift the plot ever so slightly so that it fits the world of the Guardians of the Galaxy.

Meaning that, while it’s still based on Road to El Dorado of course, it goes from two best friends searching for a golden city, to a father and son looking for great riches...in space!

And while that idea alone can totally create something hilarious with great dialogue, allow me to take a moment and discuss in further detail my own thoughts of what this grand Ravager Family adventure would entail.

(Lots of Yondad and Star Son crossover headcanon and fic under the cut! Prepare for a mix of many feelings~!)

~Both Ravager Father and Son pulling many a scam, as they often do, on some backwater hub on some equally tattered planet, to earn a few extra units on the side -- “’Cussa can’t have on’ too many units, eh, boy?” -- and having it go all so perfectly with Yondu at the head of said scams -- until Peter manages to set his eyes upon a particular holo-map of an unmarked planet being tossed into the betting pile. One that he, oh so surely, believes is indeed their massive ticket to massive wealth -- because when dealing with something that unique, why on earth would it ever be anything else? -- and thus completely forcing his old man into one final game to try his hand in winning their original earnings as well as the map to boot: “Pops, check this shit out! Look at it! Just imagine all the untapped potential! The mystery! The units! The women! It could be like our, I dunno, our destiny or something to find this place before anyone else! Possibly even our fate!” “Boy, if ah’even so much as believed in any’sorta idea o’fate, ah’wouldn’t be sitting up in this shitty bar with you tossing around loaded dice!” “Aw, c’mon, Yondu!” “Oh, don’tcha even start -- not with ‘dem damn eyes of yers -- aw, hell!”

~Them actually winning the game, without a doubt, and collecting the units and the map...but sadly ending up getting caught because of all their scamming done to the locals -- “Guess ‘that ol’ Ravager luck was bound to run out sometime, eh, pops?”/”Dont’cha go blaming ‘dis shit on me now, boy! Ya the one wanted the fool map ta’ begin with!” -- and thus, having to create yet another con just to get away with their asses in tact. Meaning, but of course, fake fighting each other all the way out of the bar and towards some amount of safety. Which looks almost too convincing to any sort of onlookers that aren’t sure what is teasing, conning, or actual truth when it comes to Captain and Star Lord. (But that’s okay, because sometimes neither do they.)

“Ya go an’ raise a boy ever since he was nutfin more ’den ah’ scrawny lil’ youngin, and what he go and do ta’ya in return? Give you loaded dice ta’ get’cha nabbed by’th law?! What kinda’ son would’a -- ah! Nova Core thank’tha stars yer here! Go on now! Arrest ‘dis embarrassment; drag ‘im outta ma’ sight!” “What the hell, you arrogant blueberry? I put up with all your crazy bull for years, and you wanna start shit talking me like this?! When you're the one controling all the cons in the first place, and just pullin’ me along for the ride! No way, arrest him! He’s the crooked one!” “Tha’ it, boy, I just about had enough outta yoo’! Ya and yer damn disrespect! If ya got any sorta scrote left’on ya, you would flash ‘em fancy blasters of yers, and show what kinda man you really are!” “A better man than you, obviously! Come on, let’s go! I’ve been wanting to do this for years!”

~Both of them escaping far away from the various aliens wanting their heads because of their tricks -- after all the blaster shots, whistles, and countless amounts of property damage ring throughout the bar and the streets -- as well as the Nova that has become too done with these two to ever be lenient ever again. And very ‘cleverly’ stowing away on a, what they assumed to be at the time, completely ship and having to escape from that in the end as well.

Because apparently fate -- “And boy, ah’really wish ya’d stop using ‘dat damn term.” -- just loves to take the piss out of them whenever convenient. So they end up floating in a poor, pitiful, half functioning escape pod in the middle of space’s absolute nowhere as wait for life support to give out. "Pops, you ever think that we'd end up going out like this?" "...Well, shit, lotta ways ah’thought our last moments would go, but nowhere near ‘dis humiliatin’" "Hah, well since we're probably gonna kill over any second now, ya got -- I dunno, any regrets, old man?" "A'sides dying out n’space with’cha, boy?" "Yep." "Pffft, hell 'course I do. One bein’ -- I ain't never had ‘nough credits t’pay off all 'em bounties an’ threats on all 'em planets." "My regret -- 'sides killin' over -- is that our most badass adventure, our most epic Ravager heist, is friggin' over before it really even got going, and ain't no one even gonna remember what we did! In this planet. Or in that star system. Or how many people we pissed off in that one..." "Prob’ly space exposure gettin' all up in these ol' eyes or sumfin -- but I figure I oughta let'cha know, Pet --" "Oh wait, don't tell me. Right before you die on me, leaving me all alone in this escape pod -- and first of all, how effing dare you -- ya gonna tell me something all sappy and heartfelt? Like, how you never knew jackshit about raisin’ a kid, but you did your best and in the end ‘I really came ta care fer ya like my own, Petey, and I don’t wanna leave ya, even though it’s mostly all my fault in the first place -- ‘" "...Al'rite 'dats it. I had this whole' speech all rearin' to go, but ya just had to go and ruin it. Well, fergit' it; ya ain't worth the breath. And it was damn nice too, ah’ll have ya know." "Yeah, yeah...love ya too, Yondu."

~The two of them eventually getting out of the pod, (After crashing landing, with a lot of loud swears, whistling, and throwing the blame around. Because obviously this is Peter’s fault somehow.) and even despite the super close call, Peter then realizes where exactly they ended up and having a sudden second wind full of adventure and excitement!

“‘Ey, boy, getc’ha ass over here and help out with this ‘ere pod! We gotta get it runnin...unless o’course yer wanting to make dis ‘ere yer second Terra --” “Holy shit, Yondu.” “Quill, now, I expect ya’ to answer me when I’m orderin --” “Holy shit, Yondu! You are not going to believe our luck!” “What are ya shout-- oh hell, don’tcha tell me that that is --” “We almost died like, way more times than normal, and got lost in space on top of that, but oh my God, look! We’re actually here! We found it!” “Ya still have that piece’a junk, after all ‘dis time!? And durin’ all that, you ain’t never thought about -- I dunno, grabbing a lil’ more resources!?” “Dude, get over here, look, look, look! You said so yourself, back at the bar --” “I reckon I said a’ lotta things --” “You said this place could be real, and it is, man! It totally is! And we are the first ones to find it! The riches! The mystery! The women! It’s completely ours!” “...Remind me ‘gain why I ain’t dumped yer crazy ass years ago?”

Outside of the amusing interactions that ended up leading to the Guardians versions of “El Dorado”, imagine for a moment how you could take this crossover idea and turn it into something quite clever and original! I’m sure that everyone has their own ideas -- but since I’m always the one who loves coming up with adventures for these two. How about for a moment, you consider this here: ~The two of them, after being on the Trail We Blaze for quite a while, and having to rely on each other’s expertise to figure out the map -- including Yondu getting annoyed at first, because how on earth did his son ever talk him into trucking through wilderness of an unknown world, and “Ya sure ya even know where’th hell ya going, boy?” -- eventually finding out the secrets of the uncharted planet. That being a long lost Centaurian tribe that automatically hails them both as Gods -- Yondu as the one that “Escaped His Chains” and Peter as "The One Who Carries The Light” ~Yondu being incredibly unnerved by this idea, mostly over Peter’s title, and when said, oh so stupid, son of his gets way too ahead of himself in terms of newfound fame -- “Petey, ya know that ther’ lil’ voice ‘dat folks have 'dat tell ‘em to quit when they’re ahead?”/”Uh, yeah --?”/”YA AIN’T GOT ONE, BOY.” -- he actually decides to go along with the wild and crazy idea of “Godhood”. Firstly, just to make sure that Peter doesn’t end up getting himself killed over all of this, and second because never had any warm feelings for his people; (And finding a full tribe of them isn’t exactly the most comfortable thing) so, if he can have a little bit of fun at their expense and also walk away rich...well, it couldn’t be all bad, right? ~Both Ravager Father and Son having to keep up their God like con for three whole days, until they can get some means of transport back to the Elector properly, and Yondu’s fun starting to melt away into full fledged worry. Because being around these people for one evening is bad enough, and obviously Peter doesn’t release what could happen if they are caught, and the repressed memories alone--! “No, seriously man, look at this -- having been hidden away for so long, aren’t you just the least bit curious --” ”Hell no, boy! Don’t’yoo even move so much’asa muscle!” ”Hah, Yondu, c’mon, ya gotta be --” ”Wha I just tell ya?! And look’atcha! Yer moving! You are abs’olu’ly moving! And I just said not to!” “Whoa, hang on, I just --” “Ey, ey! Stop, right now, Quill! I mean it!” “P-Pops, ya can’t be --” “I swear ta’th stars, that if you so much as move an inch, I’ll show ya just how many of ‘dem “Eat’yoo” threats I really meant! Just. Stay. Put. Peter!” “For, three, friggin’ days?!”

~Peter eventually escaping out from underneath his dad’s watchful gaze, and exploring the village all on his own. And in doing so, bringing music to the Centaurian children, and teaching them how to dance, oh so awkwardly mind you, but the concept just being very sweet all the same. ~The mood ultimately shifting at the end of the big adventure, because of a Centaurian slaver secretly being among the tribe. And him knowing who both Peter and Yondu are -- who they really are -- and thus believing that they would fetch an amazing price along with the rest of the slaves, and turning against them because of greed and selfishness. The exact same thing that originally brought both Father and Son to finding this place to begin with. And so, when that terrible truth comes to light, both Yondu and Peter end up throwing their original plans away -- because they may be a-holes, surely, but they’re not, as they would say, 100% dicks, and oh man do they really hate slavers -- and Yondu takes on the slaver single handed, while Peter frees the children and elders that had been captured and tortured while under this terrible Centaurian’s awful control. Meaning that, after all their greatness, the two of them end up being held as heroes among the people. Not Gods, but heroes. And somehow that just feels a whole hell of a lot better.

~The Centaurians going a bit further with their praise, and offering Yondu a place among their tribe because of how he destroyed the slaver with his own hands, and broke free all the chains that held them down. But Yondu simply shaking his head to their words, knowing well enough that his place is out there among the Stars -- with a certain annoying ass lil’ Lord of them right beside him as they both chart their own paths through the galaxy. ~Yondu throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder, and the two of them walking away from the village with massive grins on their faces.

Not only because they make damn fine heroes when they want to be, but also during the intense battle, both Father and Son managed to take whatever the slaver had on him. That being a fair amount of credits that will keep the Ravagers going for quite a while, but also some rather interesting coordinates to a nearby Slaver camp.

“Ah’m kinda feeling up to a Free Em and Burn Em run; what’cha say, son?” “I say that you completely read my mind, old man.”

Because maybe Peter and Yondu enjoy the occasional adventure in space, and maybe they both end up getting on each others nerves when that adventure doesn’t go according to plan, (Or goes too well?) and perhaps they completely adore the idea of relaxing with endless amounts wealth underneath them...

...but by the end of the day, they still remain the duo that they’ve always been. The ones that care too deeply and loves too easily, and will willingly protect and save all that they’re able to, including each other, even though they would deny all the way to the grave that they’re nothing more than Ravagers.

And don’t you know that they don’t have a heart?

But even as the Slaver Camp burns down to ashes, and Yondu and Peter manage to grant freedom to the ones that were denied it, and begin their next big adventure together with the rest of Ravagers crew...you know that no matter what comes their way; they won’t ever change.

Freeing slaves, burning camps, getting drunk off their asses and taking the occasional extra unit when no one is looking, they still are the actual worse kinds of heroes that the galaxy has ever known.

...But isn’t that one of the mains reasons that we adore these assholes so much? ;)

#peter quill #yondu #yondu udonta #gotg #guardians of the galaxy #My Stuff~#Long Post~#Very Long Post~#This was originally supposed to be attached to Sevi's actual post.#But then it ended up getting too big.#And then my creativity started going all over the place.#And then that one little dialogue snippet ended up turning into this monster of a post.#And honestly I'm not sure what to consider this.#Fan fiction maybe?#Free Prose bullshit?#I'M NOT SURE WHAT THIS COULD BE CONSIDERED.#BUT I JUST KNOW THAT I HAD A REALLY FUN TIME WRITING IT OUT.#The idea of taking a crossover and twisting it to something slightly original is something that I've always adored.#So I couldn't resist doing something like this.#THIS ONE IS FOR YOU SEVI.#I HOPE YOU HAVE A FUN TIME READING IT!#YOU CREATED THE GREAT IDEA AND WELL I EXPANDED ON IT!#SO YEAH!#But seriously this turned out way different than what I had in mind.#I'm kinda proud of it in a way.#I hope you guys have fun reading it!#Lots of kisses to the fandom~ ♥

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raveins · 7 years ago

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okay wowz i’m really excited for rae she’s like a mix between on of my faves and jonah nd like... it’s finally the perfect mix i have sm muse rn!!! like this if u wanna be savage n plot!!!!!!!!

dis bitch has had ..... quite the life

she’s a california girl, it’s always been just her mum nd her sib and her. her mum isn’t rly the best she could be worse. she was pretty absent nd struggled with addiction and was involved with a p bad group of ppl who liked 2 do illegal thangs

it gave her a lil bit of a weird personality where she’s p paradoxical like.... she’s got a loud mouth but also is an introvert, she’s very maternal from being the silent head of the fam but she doesn’t like to show tha

honestly the way hre mum was mad her super starved for attention

she was p much a fuck girl in high school, like the fem stereotype version where she’s really mysterious and edgy and she ate u up and spit u out nd u’d be like.....wow thanks........ nd she loved that like she lovs that power in her hands

she’s still like that tbh

she is very righteous tho..... but like also while complaining about doing the right thing.... kinda like jesica jones tbh ... that’s who she reminds me of

@ 17 she got involved with this dude from the group of ppl her mom was “friendS” with nd it was like ,,, nothing big yet actually

that same year when she was almost graduated she found her mom dead bc of OD so that fucked her up like a lot................ it made her scared to feel for ppl it made her scared 2 trust ppl

some stuff happened....... some secret stuff ;))))))))

n e ways, this is one dramatic bitch -- she’s a real big drama queen nd everything always revolves around her

ya she’s pretty vain but like............. somewhat discretely? somewhat not?

she’s so fckn wild!!!!! like literally at the drop of a hat she’s ready 2 go and rob a bank! im not joking she’s sO MUCH fun like she’s one of those wild ppl who brings out the best in everyone even tho she brings out the worst sometimes 2

she’s so extra gdhkjghkf like i said she’s a drama queen nd rly petty but she’s one of those ppl where it’s like ,,, that’s just how she is nd it’s like... fun almost ppl just blink nd got “YUP THAT’S RAVE FOR YA!”

she’s like crazy insaneLY smart like she coulda skipped grades if she wants to nd one day she’s def going to make a crazeeee huge scientific breakthru and everyone will have seen it coming

lives 4 girl power and (no correlation 2 girl power) loves to breaks mens hearts which she does frequently on purpose but she would never break a girl’s heart on purpose girls r amazing nd are art nd they’re all holy 2 her

she’s rly like..... deep..... like she writes poetry nd it’s some hozier, fka level shit

LIVEssss for drama omg, she has receipts on a million people nd is always in the know and will start shit if she’s bored she was to be bernard burns bff

she’s so snarky of my gof hjkgkhk like she’s such a little firecracker she knows she’s the shit i love ha

she thrives off attention but is rly an introvert i swear she’ s just like that bc her mom fucked her upppppp, she def gets along best with other ppl who r introverted a bit like not only them but she does have a soft spot for those types bc she’s like wow my ppl

likes to pretend she’s a rock that can take anything but uhhhhhhhhhhh she’s a baby that only cries in the shower so she can pretend it’s just water

um when she came here she transfered her 2nd yr bc of some stuff nd like she was kinda the mysterious gal again bc she came with like.... not a new identity but coming here was kinda like a new life for her nd she doesn’t rly talk abt her old life with any details that r too intimate so ya it’s kinda like hm.... fishy

she is rick from rick nd morty that will be her in 40 yrs

ummm she had a gf back when she first started here but like she was into the partying quite a lot nd it was a p messy emo relationship as much as they loved each other nd she was into the Drugs a bit too much nd it made rae nervous but she just couldnt let her go but one day she had to bring her to the hospital which led to a v emotional breakup nd she’s so scared to love again :((((((

um she loves to play pranks and act like a child even tho she also sometimes has her head so far up her own ass so watch out for prank master raven here

she’s like a big fckn health nut nd is super into whole foods shit and post yoga vids on insta

um can’t keep her nose to herself like she want 2 know everything so when this murder shit starts up again she about to go full nancy drew

she just needs love nd stuff idk come plot wt me :(((((

um quick plot ideas??? u can also ref HERE

she needs a roommate ( u’d get 2 know her secret ;))) ) she also has 2 cats btw, i’m open to there being 1 more dogo or cat 2

ppl who’s hearts she broke oh my gOD PLEATHE

um a crush who she can pine for nd write cute poems about

workout parner who she puts thru agony but they love it

literally bff soulmates who just chill nd are amazing 2gether

secret cruhes bc their goooood friends nd things get emo

someone who knew her from her old life :O

the Big ex girlfriend who made her scared to love agin :OOOO

arch nemesis but it’d be funny if like they didn’t even remember why they hate each other they just hav e hate

um fwb but like enemies ntot pals bc that’s fwb but.... better

um someone she actually talks to abt her feels this would be such a cute emo friendship

#bernard:intro #oh worm hey yall

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tellywoodtrash · 8 years ago

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ishqbaaz/dbo 25.05.17 lb

plain text version here.

i miss the purana waala punditji who used to show up for all the poojas. 😕😕😕

lol what's with this weird 90s indipop type music for the maha-aarti? 🤔🤔🤔

also, does every aarti done by this family have to be a MAHAAAAA aarti? do they not have normal low key aartis like the rest of us plebs? 😗😗😗

what other occasion did they wear this floral set of outfits for? i'm fairly sure i've seen it before. 🤔🤔🤔

has to be one of shivaay's wedding functions with tia, i guess. 😕😕😕

GOD WHY WON'T THIS AARTI GET OVER, DO WE HAVE TO REALLY WATCH THE WHOLE THING? ITNA DEKHNA THA, TOH SACH KI POOJA MEIN CHALI JAATI. USKA PUNYA TOH MIL JAATA. 😑😑😑

aur prasad bhi. #prasadKeLiyeKuchBhiKarega 🙃🙃🙃

wait what? when did anika see that pinky was behind the whole thing? is this an editing glitch???? or did i miss the scene???? 😟😟😟

amazing. she's hiding behind the most translucent fucking curtain in the fucking universe. goddddddddd anika. 🙄🙄🙄

yep. audio editing glitch. she hasn't discovered that it's pinky yet. 😶😶😶

OH MY GOD, THIS AARTI WON'T GET OVER. LIKE *MY* ARMS ARE GETTING TIRED JUST WATCHING IT. 😣😣😣

ouff WALK FASTER, ANIKAAAAAA!!!! 😩😩😩

ugh. prinku's here to ruin things as usual. 😒😒😒

... ok the oBros better get a direct access pass to heaven for this aarti, honestly. 😐😐😐

FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!! 😫😫😫

ouff, abhi dus ghante is reaction ko kheenchenge. 😒😒😒

like, i don't get why anika is SOOOOOOOO shocked. of ALL the people in the fam, pinky is the LEAST SURPRISING answer to ‘who could be behind this?’ 😕😕😕

oufffffff, this episode is going to really test my patience. and im just 7.5 fucking minutes in. 😣😣😣

... and the aarti is STILL on. STILL. matlab yeh toh aarti nahi, TAPASYA ho gayi. lord shiva himself will be coming down and granting the oBros boons for their penance and dedication by the end of the episode. 🙄🙄🙄

finally, the aarti is picking up pace, at least. 😐😐😐

anguished glances exchanged. shivaay notices, but decides to play it cool. 😶😶😶

this mahasangam has been mostly hit and miss, but i'd like to thank it for giving me my shivaay/gauri brOTP. 😌😌😌

what was that look that shivaay and om exchanged??? 🙁🙁🙁

SWARNNNNNN AKSHAR. #vadeLogVadiVadiBaatein 😏😏😏

lmao anika, really? afterrrr everything she's said to you, you're like this is a "galat fehmi"?? girl, you're 7 different types of stupid, honestly. 🙄🙄🙄

LMAO THIS JANKYASS "KUL PATRI". they didn't even erase the "guides" properly. 😂😂😂

if it was me in this situation, watch me fuck up my otherwise good handwriting while writing in the kul patri. 🙈🙈🙈

i just noticed that they seem to have recycled sumo's mangalsutra and given it to gauri? or maybe it's not the same one, but the design is pretty similar. 😐😐😐

awww, jhanvi's happy sigh. 😊😊😊

ouff, just write it. or don't. make up your mind. 😒😒😒

LMAOOOOOO OM, GET THE FUCK OVER YOURSELF. 🙄🙄🙄

gauri be like BITCH, PLAY ALONG. 😟😟😟

hahahahahahaha, check and mate. shivaay totally fucked you over. 😆😆😆

HAAAAAAAA. I LOVE IT. HE WRITES IT IN HIMSELF. I FUCKING LOVE IT. 😈😈😈😈😈😈

also, amaaazing how anika and om have the exact same handwriting in devanagari calligraphy. 😇😇😇

now you can't blame her. she did the best she could. your bitch ass couldn't commit to the act. 🙄😒😒😒

finally. anika's seen the light. 😐😐😐

haaaaaye. pretty pretty babies. 😍😍😍😍😍😍

ugh, i like this song, but why THIS version, instead of the male one? that version is better! 😫😫😫

god om, you're the worstttttttttt. 😑😑😑

lmao honestly pinky. do you think this is endearing you to jethani ji? she likes her bahu, you know... like ONE SHOULD. 🙄🙄🙄

god pinkyyyyyyyyy, you're honestly so fucking terrible. like, ok, you're allowed to have opinions on anika, however wrong they are, coz your son is married to her. but where the fuck do you get off spewing such bs about GAURI, when jhanvi just told you that she loves her and thinks she's perfect? 😠😠😠

THAAAAAAAANKKKKKKK YOUUUUUU JHAAAANVIIIIII. YOU'RE HONESTLY THE FUCKING BEST. 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

god, why did they dispatch her off to DBO, when her sanity is sooooo desperately needed in IB????? 😩😩😩

ohhhhhhhhh boy. oh boy oh boy oh boy. looks like anika won't have to do khulaasa after all. mummeh is hellbent on phodofying her own bhaanda. 😶😶😶

lord give me patience, i am about to cut a bitch. 😡😡😡

what's he gonna do? what? WHAT? 😧😧😧

of all the phones that have met their demise at shivaay's hands, this one had the most noble death. #salute #trueMartyr 😌😌😌

how was he certain that the kalam would break? what was his plan if it didn't???? 🤔🤔🤔

lollllllllll shivaay, you're making it SO FUCKING obvious. 🙄🙄🙄

also haaaaaa! fuck you pinky. 🙃🙃🙃

why is the room decorated for suhaag raat???? 😶😶😶

oh boy she has a glass of milk also. yikes. 😬😬😬

why's he asking HER, as if SHE did it? she was with him the whole time. 🙄🙄🙄

"hum din mein mombatti kyun jalayenge???" #askingTheRealQuestions 😂😂😂

IS HE FUCKING MAD?????????????? 😫😫😫😫😫😫

LMAOOOOOOOOO. and that's that. happy now, om? 😂😂😂

wait what???? WHY IS BUAMAA TRYING TO DRUG OMKARA???? OH GOD, IS SHE EVIL????? 😫😫😫😫😫

oh thankkkkk god. some distraction from the crappiness. 😥😥😥

loooooking goooood, rudy boyy! 😘😘😘

oh no, back to this. for once i don't want to see a shivika scene. TAKE ME BACK TO RUDRA IN MEERUT!!!!!!!! 😩😩😩

girl, you're the worst at hiding shit . just tell him. 😶😶😶

yay, back to rudra! 😊😊😊

matlab kuch bhi????? aise kaise kisi bhi ladki ka haath awaiiii pakad liya??? 😟😟😟

LMAO THE MUSIC. SO CHEESY. 🙄🙄🙄

... ok she looks A LOT like amrapali (kamini)??? 😯😯😯

down to the mole around the mouth/chin area! they could really play sisters!

oh my god, why is she crying?!?!!?!? 😟😟😟😟😟😟

cry baby meets bigger cry baby. 😂😂😂

yikes, i don't like her already. 😬😬😬

i have the same face and reaction as rudra right now, honestly. 😒😒😒

ok what is this garbage? is this what i had to give sumo up for? FUCK THAT! 😤😤😤

fwding this cheesy ass BS coz i honestly can't.

what does he mean that the bride isn't marrying the guy???? isn't this a shaadi ka ghar???? the bride's house??? WHAT EVEN IS HAPPENING????THIS IS SO FUCKING STUPID. GOD. 😡😡😡

lmaooooooooooo gauri is highhhhhh. 😂😂😂

and om is the established charasi of the relationship, lol. 😇😇😇

omg her laugh is adoraaaaaable. why is she soooo damn cute? it defies the laws of science! 😍😍😍

lol nandi is gonna be her cow, isn't it? 😐😐😐

*angrily yelling* “ARE YOU SAYING I'M ALWAYS ANGRY?????”

idiot. 😒😒😒

"ab shankarji ka naam pe aapka naam rakha hai, toh aap kya teesri aankh khol ke hamesha humare peeche lage rahenge???"

OMFG YAAAAS GIRL, ASK HIM. 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

seriously, it's like the ghost of old shivaay is possessing him. 😐😐😐

getting this girl highhh is the best thing that has ever happened. 😌😌😌

oh my heart. this angel. i love her so much. she deserves sooooo much better. 😥😥😥😥😥😥😥

run away, girl. just run away and find yo'self a better man. 😣😣😣

"KADOOO PATA THA!" 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

YESSSSSSSS! DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCHHHHHH HER!!!!!! 😠😠😠

oh gauri, bade bhaiyya ko dekh dekh ke hi toh yeh aisa ban gaya hai. ab bade bhaiyya ne u-turn mar diya toh yeh akela pad gaya apne is kameenepan mein. 😕😕😕

"one for all, all for one" my ass. 🙄🙄🙄

lol "baarish". this adorable munchkinnnn. 😚😚😚

wow. that was some super quick sobering up. 😐😐😐

girl, just LEAVEEEEEEEEEEE. honestly, leave his fucking assssss. 😒😒😒

god, from the frying pan to the fire. 😩😩😩

ok, so he knows that it's someone from the inner circle. just... hit him with the truth, anika. just rip off the bandaid. 😬😬😬

lmao ok, doesn't look like SHIVAAAAY SINGH OBEROIIIIII is handling it very well after all. 😂😂😂

GIRL WHY DID YOU COME BACK???????? 😣😣😣

is buamaa evil or not? or did she just try and drug him to get him to MELLOW THE FUCK DOWN, coz he needs it. 😒😒😒

but seriously, could people stop trying to drug omkara? he has drug issues for godssakes. 😐😐😐

lmao ok, i'm #teamBuaMaa again. 😊😊😊

yaaaaaaass girl, stand up to him. #teamGauri4eva 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

yeah, your hair flick isn't remotely as cool as shivaay's hair flick. stop trying so hard. 🙄🙄🙄

ohhhhhh boyy. shivaay is not handlingggggg it well. 😬😬😬

GREAT. JUST GREAAAAAAAAAAT. MUMMEH KA KOI NAYA DRAMA SHURU HO GAYA. 😑😑😑

OH LORD WHAT EVEN... ugh, do i haaaaaave to watch tomorrow? it’s my day offff, i just want to be happyyyyy. 😩😩😩😩😩

#ishqbaaz #ishqbaaaz #dil bole oberoi #dil boley oberoi #ib episode liveblogs #dbo episode liveblogs #episode liveblogs #250517 ib lb

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vanchlo · 8 years ago

Text

the assistant / chapter eighteen, “down”

hey there!!!!! woah it’s been so long, i am so so sorry!!! it’s so good to be typing all this up and making this post haha and its kinda weird trying to get back into it too, i missed picking the gif and little sneak peeks out for the post on here lol. i hope you’ve all been well and had great holidays!! well i came back to this chapter that was sitting around for awhile and i wrapped up the end of it, and so i figured i would post it. hopefully it isn’t utter trash haha. i really don’t know when the next chapter will be up or if i’m back with this story just to be honest with you, but i thought i would give it another try and my bf like really wanted me to try again for awhile lol hes pretty great, so you have him to thank lmao. i really wanted to say a big thank you to those of you who have sent me lovely messages about the story (im sorry if some got lost :( or i never replied to) and who have been so patient, it means the world and im so excited to share this new one with you because of your continued love and support for this story, because i know youre all so excited. it still amazes me honestly, you guys are the best. but yes i hope you like this, plz plz let me know what you think! i enjoy!!!! :-)

p.s. - i can’t remember for the fricken life of me how i formatted their texts so be easy on me lol theres not a lot to work with or do, i hope theyre easy to understand :) ugh if only you could change the color of the font on here it would be so much easier sigh

old chapterzzzzzz!

i know that i probably shouldn’t, and honestly i really don’t know if harry would give a shit, but i thumb at the corner of the file by the label. the fact of being in his hall and not knowing if i should do this or not makes it a little worse.

i take a breath before i stop in front of his closed door. rapping my fist against the door, i wait like any other time. and after harry told me the other day to just come on in if he doesn’t answer by the second time, to just let myself in if it’s something important, i do just that ever so nervously. and with the suspicious as shit file weighing heavily in my arms, i wrap my fingers around the cold tingy metal and twist. the creepy neck feeling and the hot nervous one like i did something wrong floods back to me in a tsunamic like wave when i spot the graying man standing by harry’s desk.

with a gulp that becomes harder when his dark brown eyes cast over to me along with the weak dimples peeking out of his cheeks aged with lines, suddenly i feel not so great.

it feels like everybody’s eyes are on the back of my neck when i eventually walk out of the bathroom and back to my desk. when i turn around, there’s nobody watching or staring or prying. just my messed up conscious and paranoid mind, because that’s nice. i discreetly run a finger under my eyes as i pull out the wheely chair and sit back down, lifting the top of my macbook to open it up. holding down the power button, the white apple logo soon appears on my screen. with a sniffle, i pull at the tight waist of these black dress pants before typing my password in.

the plain mountain background loads quickly, and a second later a soft chime sounds. and then there’s another. dragging my eyes to the top right corner of the shiny screen, i see the name i dread maybe the most.

(H in italics and B in bold-italics :-))

12:05pm

please try to be nice with

the costume, pretty

please with a cherry on top?

12:10pm

you’re making me nervous,

becks.

and a new chime just as this message comes in, all fresh and new.

12:23pm

you there, love?

yeah sorry. got busy.

it’s ok.

instead of replying, i venture to chrome and open my email to find too much freaking shit. the third or fourth email is from him, time stamped from around eight am. he probably finished the list up and sent it from home last night, which isn’t too weird for him. sometimes it comes the night before, if he’s feeling generous or something like that.

12:29pm

what’s this file you want?

what?

on the list. it just says ‘find the

heartwood file for me asap and bring

it to me’. you need to learn to be more

specific you know, i thought we talked

about this.

12:30pm

oh yeah. that. sorryyyyyy, i

know we spoke about

it. yeah, i need the

criminal file on bertie

heartwood. it’s not on the

online database as a digital file, so

you’ll have to go down

to the basement where

they keep all of the real paper ones.

you’ve been down there

the one time right? it

wasn’t too bad, huh?

yeah it was a jolly old time, i loved the

creepy old geezer sitting in the door shoving his face with a twinkie who couldn’t help me for shit. i almost had

an asthma attack from all of the dust

and i don’t have asthma!

damn you’re hilarious,

becks.

shutup, i’m being serious.

don’t send me a fucking smiley face.

first i have to do all of that awful filing

and now i have to go down to the

basement to the papers room where who knows

how many rats live with the creepy old

guy staring at my bum and boobs. watch, i probably

will never even get back up here to

17 because the elevator will have

stopped working, or the weirdo shanked me and i bled out. and god, don’t even

get me fucking started on the

cobwebs down there.

language! and would you chill out? there

are no bloody rats in my

law firm

i heard something the last time i was

down there trying and failing to find

that witman file for you, and i turned

around and i swear to god i saw a

tail, harry.

stop it, you did not see

a bleeding rat down there.

and i keep my firm

blooming spotless, so hush.

you still need to find a new clerk guy

down there who isn’t a 80 year old

who probably has an arrest or two

having to do with pedophilia and porn.

i bet you fifty pounds if you had the

techies look at his computer you’d find pornhub.com in his web history.

bloody hell becks. he

does not. jerry’s background

is spotless. ya really think

i’d take a bet on somebody

like that?

well all he does is basically just guard

about fifty dusty shelves of files, so

yeah maybee.

fuck you, you little shit.

uh no, i only get to call you that.

sure you do.

shutup.

can i pleaseeeeee not go down there?

i was considering it, but

not after all that lousy stuff

you said about the papers

room and nice old jerry.

he is not nice, harry! he’s so rude.

doesn’t even help me when i have a

question, scouts honor.

no way, you were a girl scout?

ya sell all those yummy boxes

of biscuits, too?

shut up.

ya better be nice, or i just

might make you come to

that ball with me after all,

you little shit.

stop calling me that, that’s my line.

would you rather i come down

and give you another nice

tour? i don’t really want to,

because i’m supposed to be

doing this skype call with

somebody from ny, and

hell thats why i asked you

to do it.

god, don’t be too honest there.

i’m sorry, just not looking forward

to this skype call. and amber

won’t stop blowing up my phone,

she’s in a real mood today.

what’s new with that?

be nice, becks.

i’m just stating the truth, that’s all.

his reply is lagged, and i tap my fingers against my thigh as i wait for the word ‘read’ to show up under my message. and more so for the little bubble to show up. i don’t know if i’m thankful or what when the t-rex rings and i drag my hand over with a huff to pick it up.

“styles and lawson, this is becky,” i answer the most mock cheerfully that i can do on a monday.

“hi, i was wondering who i could talk to about how i could go about setting up a consultation with mr. styles?” a chipper voice replies.

“i’m mr. styles’ assistant, so i can gladly answer that question for you,” i reply.

ten unnecessary minutes later, i finally set the phone down. and when i turn to wake up my computer, there’s a red bubble stuck to my little messages icon. with a shake of my head, i click on it and find harry’s texts. but i hardly get a chance to read them, when his name pops up in the corner of my screen again, but this time he’s calling me.

sticking my hand into my drawer, i pull my buzzing phone out and swipe my thumb across the screen.

“god, what do you want now?” i reply fake annoyed.

“ya betta watch it, becks. actually ‘m surprised ya answered, ya weren’t replying t’ me texts.”

“i’m sorry, i had to explain to some old lady on the phone that just because you’re such a greaaaat lawyer, that you don’t take all cases that come at you, and she wasn’t that happy because of that and because she doesn’t really know how to work email to send me a consult. actually i don’t think she even has one.”

“oh, i see. well sorry i blew up yer mac, but was hopin’ ya’d go an’ get that file fer me soon. pleeeease, becks?” he says, apology heavy in his tone, before it switches to something sickeningly sweet. what a little shit.

“can’t like, you call down there and just have them send it up somehow?”

“this isn’ a bloody post office, becks. ’s jus’ one li’l file, tha’s actually real important. an’ i need it, i wouldn’ ask ya t’ go get it if i didn’ need it.”

“suuuuure,” i sigh, browsing through this week’s list quickly, but it’s not much use because this isn’t the final length. it’ll just keep getting added to as the week carries on. the usual.

“come on, becks. i won’ make ya go down there fer awhile afta this, ok?”

“weak proposition, mr. lawyer,” i reply sassily, pushing my hair behind my ear as i open another email reading a consult from a possible client.

“‘m not gonn’ bribe you.”

“why not?”

“you cheeky li’l thing you, jus’ go get tha bloody file before i come out there.”

“wow, you’re soooo scary,” i tease, hearing his fed up huff.

“jus’ go get tha damn file, you bloody li’l shit,” he chuckles softly. “now i really hafta go, tha bloke’s s’posed t’ be callin’ any mo’ now.”

“no, wait!”

“whaaaat?” he groans.

“i forgot where i look down there, because you know there’s like fifty shelves with boxes of files on them.”

“bloody hell, becks, just ask jerry.”

“i am not talking to that creeper ever again in my life,” i whisper, lowering my voice when somebody walks by. “and he is soooo a creeper, harry! the last time i was down there, i was looking through a box of files that was on the bottom shelf, and when i looked up the bloke’s eyes were glued to my cleavage!”

what comes next is a little explosion of giggles from his side, and i have to resist rolling my eyes because it’s not as good when he can’t see it. since we’re on the phone, even though he’s like . . well right over there.

“becks, yer too damn funny fer yer own good, darlin’,” he gets out in a long titter, and i deal him back a sigh. “ok don’ botha with jerry then, but ’s organized by tha alphabet if i rememba right from tha last time i was down there. but yeah ’s just by last name, so it shouldn’ be too hard t’ find, love.”

“wow, thanks for calling me dumb.”

“‘m not callin’ you dumb, becks!” he laughs, and when i hear the familiar ringing sound faintly i know it’s his skype. “hey sorry, that bastard’s ringin’ me, so i gott’ go. but if ya ‘ave any troubles, jus’ text me an’ ‘ll try t’ get back t’ ya fairly quick.”

“ok, don’t get too bored,” i joke, hearing his sweet giggle for only a second.

“thanks, babe, don’ die down there,” he replies, and i only get a scoff in before he says a quick goodbye.

with a dreaded touch and an exaggerated groan, i stab the lit up plastic button labeled ‘bmt’ and take a few steps and turn to lean against the back wall of the elevator i’m alone in. with a soft hum, the doors squeeze back together and it starts to move down as i stare ahead at my blurry reflection in the shiny doors.

12:50pm

this really fricken sucks,

like a lot.

i stab my thumb at the ‘send’ button and let out a huff after pressing the lock button waiting to arrive in the moldy scary basement. the red led number above the doors falls one by one, sticking at ‘9’ before it drops again.

buzz buzz.

12:54pm

hush, don’t start being a

whine baby on me now.

i told you i won’t make you

go down there for awhile

after this.

you better not.

oh stop being so dramatic.

i think i got that from you.

you’re just hilarious.

why thank you.

now get off your phone and

go get that file.

i’m on the elevator as we

speak, god chill!

you chill, and stop taking the

lord’s name.

since when do you care?

doesn’t matter, now i gotta go.

this bloke is almost back from

whatever the hell he had to do,

and i gotta pay attention, this call

is important.

ok, sorry for bothering you.

don’t, you’re not bothering me.

why do ya always think you’re a

bother becks? but

text me if you need me for any

help with finding the file, and i’ll

try my best, i just might take a

bit to reply.

thank you, harry. you know

you’re probably the best, right?

thanks, sweetheart :) you’re

pretty darn great yourself.

you’re welcome, and thanks :)

i wait for a quick witted reply, and after a little bit i think he should have replied by now with how quick his replies were coming. and so i stuff my phone away in my pocket, and look up to find the doors peeling apart. i take in a deep breath and step off the elevator, pulling my long gray sweater around me at the change of temperature. fuckkkkkk, i do not need this too.

with shivering shoulders and chattering teeth, i tiptoe down the hall - because well there’s not a fucking soul around and i feel like it’s too quiet and shit is going to echo - and soon spot the little sign that reads ‘file room’. but ever since i stepped my first foot into this form, it’s always been called ‘the papers room’ for a reason i don’t know, and that i should probably ask harry one day. or asher.

sure enough, wrinkly and graying and not to mention balding jerry whitter is sat at his black desk scrolling away on his silver desktop. probably looking at girl on girl action, or something really weird, i just have a weird feeling. it takes him too long to look up and when he does, i savor the look on his face because fuck i know he was looking at porn. that git.

with a forced smile stretching across his stubbly chubby cheeks, his thin lips you could hardly discern from his gray mustache part, “oh hullo, love. come down to find another file. ya need any help finding anything?” he says ever so cheerily, but i know it’s fake.

“uh no thanks, i think i got it,” i reply, trying a smile that he returns, but it’s last about a second. with a shiver and my arms pulled around myself, i walk past the wimpy coworker of mine dressed in a long sleeved gray button down and slacks. i don’t even want to think about those slacks and any other part of his body for that matter.

that thought gives me another shiver as i pass the tall gray metal shelves of cardboard box heavy with ancient files. all i know is that most of the files that harry and the other lawyers used and need these days are online digitally, and that somebody who’s not fucking jerry is in the process of scanning all of these to get them online. but i can imagine there’s a point where it’s just been enough, and what’s the point if you don’t need them? at least that’s what i think.

clearing my throat and trying to do the same with my mind, i bow my head and lift my hand to find the hot pink post it i scribbled down the info on, knowing i’ll most likely forget.

bertie heartwood

criminal files

1989

with a huff, i stuff it back away in the pocket of my sweater, pulling the front tighter across my chest. glancing a hasty look over my shoulder back at jerry, all i know is that i’m glad he’s not looking me up, and i don’t bother to see what he’s staring at on his computer. bad idea, becky, bad idea. and so i cross my arms over my chest, wincing at my annoying ass bra digging into my side as i look at the little sign on the very left of the shelf by the aisle. ‘a-f’ it reads. i try to hold back the groan as i walk down the long ass aisle, and turn to peek in the next one. like the other side, the very last shelf has another little sign reading ‘g-m’ and i drag my feet down to the beginning. first i go too far and i’m stuck in the g’s, and then when i veer to the right of the aisle i’m in the fucking j’s, because god. ughhhh.

i almost jump out of my fucking flats when my hip buzzes, and i look down to find the screen of my phone lit up. the smile is hard to push down at the sight of his words, and what they are.

12:55pm

it going alright? you get lost

down there, bub?

no, not yet. but apparently

finding the h’s in this aisle for

g-m is harder than it looks.

the screen goes dark as i stare at it waiting for his response, but it doesn’t come right away, and so i assume he’s caught up with his skype call. i don’t even know why he bothered anyways, especially since he joked somewhat about me leaving him alone. i turn my attention and eyes back to the boxes upon boxes of files waiting in front of me. after awhile, i finally get a little warmer and find the h’s. you’d think it wouldn’t be too hard to find ‘he-‘ especially when there shouldn’t be that big of a variety of files here, but yeah no. first there’s habergram. haberly. habittle. hack. hackney. hackman. like i’ve never seen so many ‘ha-’s in my entire life. what the fuck, harry?

my phone says it’s a few ticks away from quarter after one when i finally locate the ‘he-’s and then it’s not too bad then, considering ‘hea-‘ is right in the beginning, or so i hope. but after a minute or two, i finally finally the little label reading ‘heartwood, bertie’ and pull out the frayed dusty black file.

“ya find all that you need?” jerry questions when i walk up to his desk, much to my dismay.

“yep, thanks,” i answer, plucking a clicky pen from his coffee mug full of them. hmm so maybe the coffee mug of pens is a thing here, huh?

dreadfully so, i lean down and press the pen to the clipboard, but this time i remember to hold the file to my chest so the perv can’t look down my shirt. fucking gross. first i scribble down the date, time of 1:34pm, the name of the file as well as the handy dandy code on the lip of the file i have to locate first and then make it out and yada yada it’s too much work really, and finally i put down my autograph at the end.

jerry and i exchange small ‘thanks’ and he mutters a ‘bye’ i fully ignore, before i peel out of there and get back on the elevator afraid to be down there another minute more.

1:35pm

you still on the phone?

a dictionary sized ‘delivered’ pops up under my message after a moment, but no read receipt before i check my notifications and a few other things as the elevator brings me up. i’m happy when it sounds a long ding and the doors open, letting me breath again as i step out onto seventeen. the keys are clicking and the phones are a ringing as i walk back to my desk, veering for people in slacks and skirts rushing with their cups of tea and stacks of paper before i swing down harry’s hall. i know that i probably shouldn’t, and honestly i really don’t know if harry would give a shit, but i thumb at the corner of the file by the label. the fact of being in his hall and not knowing if i should do this or not makes it a little worse, so all i get is a glance of a wacky mugshot of a weird looking guy before i let it fall closed only a few steps away from harry’s door.

doing a once over for anybody busting me, even though i know it’s not going to happen or so i hope, i take a breath before i stop in front of his closed door. rapping my fist against the door, i wait like any other time. and after harry told me the other day to just come on in if he doesn’t answer by the second time, to just let myself in if it’s something important, i do just that ever so nervously. and with the suspicious as shit file weighing heavily in my arms, i wrap my fingers around the cold tingy metal and twist.

the creepy neck feeling and the hot nervous one like i did something wrong floods back to me in a tsunamic like wave when i spot the graying man standing by harry’s desk. with a gulp that becomes harder when his dark brown eyes cast over to me along with the weak dimples peeking out of his cheeks aged with lines, suddenly i feel not so great.

“u-uh can i help you with something, sir? i’m sorry, but nobody’s allowed in here without harry already-,” i begin, looking over his combed back thinning hair and broad-set frame.

“i got it, becks,” a voice says quickly, and when i turn my head, harry’s slipping into the room with his hard eyes set on the stranger standing in front of the both of us.

his emerald’s a different body of water from the man’s before us fall to me and i see something in his face that i don’t like. “are you sure?” i say quietly to him.

he nods his head and gives me a small smile, but i don’t know how much i believe it. “‘m sure, love, jus’ gimme a mo’ with him, alright?” he replies, patting my arm with his hand, and i don’t know why or how or what, but i catch his hand when it falls from me. it’s almost awkward and i don’t know what i’m doing or what my little half hatched plan is, but i hold it for a moment along with his gaze and last ditch murmur of his name. “’s fine, becks, promise. why dontcha go take yer break now, yeah?” he continues, giving me another reassuring smile that i don’t know if i can handle or accept, or whatever.

“ok,” i say, dropping his hand but not before i give it a little squeeze, one that he returns warmly. “let me know if you need anything.”

“will do,” he replies, before i turn away and head for the door, holding the image of his off smile and his whole off look in my mind. and the other thing sitting on his face that i don’t think i’ve ever seen before. nerves.

the door opens swiftly with a click, and as my back is to harry and the odd old guy, i hear the beginning of his brash voice. the voice of the other harry. “what, ya not know how t’ work a phone or sumthin’, can ya not gimme a quick ring befo’ ya jus’ swing by wheneva ya bloody like? i have a job ya know - people i represent an’ stuff i gott’ do, meetings i hafta go t’ an-“

“i bleedin’ built this place, ya not rememba that or sumthin’ . .” the stranger booms back in the same accent identical to harry’s, giving me a jump and making this whole thing even weirder. and with that, making me even more confused.

i blink hard before opening my eyes as the last bit of harry’s cold words spat at the stranger melt away from my ears with the distance i put between us, but i catch deep shouts and a raspy one in return. one i know all too well. and it hits me in the gut. because for some odd fucking reason, i want to spin around and stomp back over to his door and do i don’t know, something to get it to stop. to get the man to go away, a man i have a bad feeling about i know that already, and so i can wipe that scared nervous feeling from harry and make it all better.

but i know i shouldn’t and all of things, i know that i can’t. it’s not like that, and with a sad thought, i think it probably will never be like that. with another click, i step inside the break room and pop open the fridge, wishing the can of soda was something else. something still fizzy, but heavy to the taste and not sweet. something a happy medium like my favorite wine coolers, which only sends me into another dark thought about the man i just left. the man i care too fricken much about. fucking shit.

i knock the back of my middle knuckle against the screen of the kiosk, tapping hard at my numbers before pushing open the door to get back to work. i drop the black file i never actually put in harry’s hand on the last rack of the new little black file rack on my desk. i plop back down onto my chair, hearing a squeak i roll my eyes at. but my ass hardly hits the stiff chair when i hear shouting from far away and then a door slam, and when i think i recognize one of the voices, i fly out of that seat.

almost running, i bolt over to harry’s hallway in time to have the burly pissed old guy nearly charging past me. he gives me a dirty look that immediately reminds me too much of harry’s for some odd reason, before he rounds the corner and stomps away. with a gulp, my feet move again from being still and i carefully tread down to harry’s door. for what feels like the hundredth time, i hesitate when i reach my hand out to wrap around the door, but this time a feeling burns in my gut that i should and that i need to do this.

and with that, i turn the handle slowly even though an urgency pricks at my skin to turn it faster and harder, and everything else. i spot him almost instantaneously. back to me. shoulders taut and then shaking. little sad sounds carrying across the room from him.

i don’t know what to do. my body is rigid, every single fricken part of it. and so when i try to move my legs- hell just a muscle, i can’t. the fear immobilizes me. it restricts me as the pained sounds of what can only be his crying pricks at my ears, like the sharp end of little pins poking your skin, one by one, getting worse and worse. a breath is stuck in my lungs, not going anywhere along with the rest of me. and it only makes this worse, when i didn’t think that was an option.

all of a sudden the sniffles and the hoarse throaty sounds cease altogether, and i see his shoulders twitch. then a hand run through his impeccable curls that were messy for only a second, if that. all of a sudden he turns around and as if the sight of his red rimmed glassy eyes devoid of a care but riddled with emotion weren’t enough to send my mental self crashing to the ground, the look on his face when he sees me standing there with a foot out the door and the other in kills me altogether.

a syllable begins on his tongue i see. maybe my name. it pains me to even think it, but maybe another cry. or something possibly worse if that could happen: the beginning of a yell. the second one returns with a kick as i watch his eyes fill with tears again before he looks away with a knuckle to his eyes.

“i-i’m sorry, i don’t mean to barge in-,” i begin, but it all comes out wrong, and nothing right. it’s a mess, just like me. and well him, too. i don’t know what he’s thinking or doing, as his head is bent down looking at something on his desk, probably just finding something to do to occupy the embarrassment and the awkwardness that is all me. all fucking me. but i can’t blame him. because hell, i wouldn’t know what to do if he found me crying, well again. “harry,” is all that feels right and as i watch him poke his finger at a mini yellow legal pad with his gorgeous scrawling on it, a sob stutters in his throat. and i’m fucking gone.

within a blink or two, i’m standing in front of him. unsure of what to do. reach out, or go away. his adam’s apple bobs with a gulp before he lifts his chin slowly to look at me, and kill me with that defeated drowned look that makes me feel all sorts of horrible. for him. all for him. and because of what the fuck can i do?

but it’s more like what can’t i when i tug on his sleeve to bring him over to me until he’s close enough to wrap my arms around. that’s too late though, because his are already going around me and by the time i get mine around him, his face is bent into my neck with his hot tears melting into it. as he melts into me with throaty sobs leaving his lips.

i don’t know what to do, or what to say for that matter. i don’t even realize i’m doing it, or hell that i’m doing anything when i find my fingers lost in his hair combing through the end of his crazy curls, and drifting down to the long expanse of his back i rub in circles. through the easy silk of his shirt, i feel his taut strong back as it shakes with each hoarse cry and rises with a rattly breath that tickles against my now damp neck. we stand there for the next ten minutes, his head glued to my shoulder and my arms surrounding him and not moving an inch no matter how tired they get. but i hold onto him tight, my neck slick with tears and his breaths loud and hiccupy.

with every hiccupy cry that falls from his lips, my arms wrap around him a little tighter and my hands rub a little harder.

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